Greetings, my fellow Tales of... players! :)

'Alive' is a little fic that came up during my second ToV playthrough and I was like "How the hell did he get out and caught up to Heracles so fast?" o.O So here you go. There's really nothing else to say, just enjoy!

Also thanks goes to dib07 for beta-reading this for me! Thank you soooo much ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tales series characters, if I did... well, that's for M-rated fics ;)

The walls were crumbling around him. He could hear the slightly muffled sounds of canon fire from above and with each hit, the whole shrine trembled. The floor was sinking beneath his feet and the ceiling breaking over his head. Blood and sweat, mixed together, trailed down his face and stung in his eyes, raven hair plastered to his forehead and cheeks. His whole body was trembling with exhaustion, yet he somehow endured, keeping the giant chunks of stone and earth from collapsing entirely.

"Must be gettin' soft in my old age." he murmured to himself with a scoff as he watched their backs disappearing from view in the swirl of dust.

His hermes blastia was shining ever so brightly from the strain, consuming the remainder of his vitality at an alarming rate to compensate for the extent of its wielder's demands. The energy being drained out of him, manifestating itself in a tingling sensation, was spreading throughout his already broken, beaten body. Those kids were strong. Even if he'd gone all out on them, they still defeated him with ease.

Another humorless chuckle escaped his parched lips as Schwann's knees gave way at last and he toppled to the ground, unable to hold onto the already overstrained sinews of his life any longer. The stone ceiling of the Shrine of Baction gave a rumbling sound and for a moment he could swear he heard Karol's voice from somewhere overhead. He shut those thoughts away, ascribing them to his own mind playing tricks on him and barely a single breath later the room caved in, knocking him out while burying him underneath what felt like miles and miles of rubble. The last thing he felt were the mountains of rock pressing down upon him, threatening to crush every bone in his body.

Yet the fact that he still remained remotely aware of the discomfort of being curled up underneath the ancient crumbling structure stroke him as odd.

After what might have been minutes as well as hours, Schwann opened his eyes to the dim pulsing light of his blastia heart and found himself inside a space only large enough for one person to fit in. Dust filled his lungs as he gasped for air, causing him to break into a violent fit of coughs, his ribs aching painfully with every shift of his chest. Finally able to calm down he slowly and very carefully shored himself up with one elbow, free hand immediately darting to his heart as weakness overpowered him, trying to pull his consciousness back into the darkness. He willed his heavy-lidded sea-blue eyes to stay open, looking around as much as the small confined space allowed. Barely inches above his raised head two massive stones were propped up against each other to prevent him from being squashed, though the state he was in right now, there could be no thinking about getting out either, with all the smaller chunks of walls and ceiling piled up over them. Not even a single vent left to provide the so much needed air.

Fate is a tricky whore indeed, when after all this -after all these battles, after getting beaten up by those kids, after being hit with Dein Nomos square in the chest- he still survived, only to die like this. To simply suffocate. Ridiculous.

He would probably start laughing if he had the strength to do so. Though, as the captain allowed himself to ponder over it for a moment, he probably deserved the slow death for all he'd done. He wasn't really afraid to go, no. He had already died once and since then, he reconciled with the fact that he only lived on borrowed time, but...

Sharp pain shot through Schwann's body as he lowered himself back, his arm unable to withstand his weight any longer. His blastia was still glowing, however the light seemed to dim by the second and breathing was becoming more and more difficult as well. Though he no longer remembered exactly what it was like to die those long years ago, the ghost of that feeling and the chill of death still loomed over him, reminding him constantly of how fragile this whole illusion maintained by the blastia Alexei had given him was.

Schwann stood face to face with death many time over the years, though never so close as that one time during the Great War and it never bothered him, he was always prepared to die in battle, that's why he had always fought with everything he had, unable to find the resolve to just give up. It wasn't in his nature. But the last few months completely messed up all his values and the whole course of his life as well. When Yuri's blade scratched the hermes blastia and he found himself still standing, still living, Schwann couldn't supress the small flicker of hope that tingled at his senses, choosing to ignore it instead as the Commandant strived to bring the Shrine of Baction down on their heads. He honestly thought that would be the end. And a part of him welcomed the sweet taste of liberation from what he considered a cursed existence, even more so when a chance to do at least a little bit to redeem himself presented itself. It was selfish, he knew, but that knowledge wouldn't change anything.

"Who said you just get to lay down and die right here?"

The voice suddenly rang in his ears, strong and clear as if Yuri was standing right beside him and sea-blue eyes searched for the tall, dark figure to ensure their owner this wasn't so. He found himself alone still in the dim light of his blastia, air shortage apparent with his surroundings blurry and swimming around him.

"I thought the guilds never quit until the job was done..."

Memories flooded Schwann's mind at the sound of those words, the good and the bad ones mixed together. Alexei and all that had changed that once noble, righteous man into the monster he was now. Leblanc and Don Whitehorse. The Knights and the Guilds. Schwann Oltorain, the First Captain of the Imperial Knights and Raven of Altosk.

He couldn't focus or breathe properly anymore.

"You go on living untill the end!"

A single tear made its way through his once again closed eyelids and it surprised Schwann, for he hadn't cried in ten years. He did go on living until the end. Until his end that is. That end which should have come the day he had lost his heart, both figuratively and literally. And since then, he craved to join Casey and the others. He lost the meaning of his life, devoting it solely to Alexei's services knowing full well the former Commandant no longer cared in the slightest if his chess pieces lived or died as long as they fulfilled their roles in his schemes. He himself didn't care either. Not about himself anyway, but since he met those kids, even if it was on both Alexei and the Don's orders...

I wish to continue living.

The voice echoed through his tired mind, not Yuri's this time but his own, faint at first, though getting stronger. It startled him into fluttering his eyes and moaning softly into the deathly silence. It wasn't fear he felt now; it was hope. With his life flashing before his eyes in a matter of seconds, he felt uncharastericaly nostalgic. It was almost painful. And he found himself surprisingly not wanting to go just yet. Like there was something he had to do; something he had forgotten about.

I will not die here.

The voice of what he came to call his other self, Raven, echoed in his hears, refusing to be silenced.

I cannot die here.

With strength he didn't know he still possessed, Schwann propped himself up again, his hermes blastia beginning to shine more and more brightly as he looked up, resolution reflected in sea-blue eyes as he reached to examine the cave imprisoning him. Dust swirled above his head and the rocks rumbled dangerously when his hand moved over particularly loosened pieces of debris threatening to give way. He frowned and tried again, more carefully this time. There was a loud cracking sound and he had to cover himself with his arms to avoid a shower of sharp stones and earth getting into his eyes and respiratory system.

Gusts of fresh air welcomed him as the fallen rubble settled around him. His sleeves were torn when he lowered his hands, blood gushing from small wounds and soaking the fabric, but he paid no heed to it. Instead a flicker of hope surged through his old bones and he took a lung full until another landslide blocked the little vent up again. Though now, there was enough room for him to move more or less freely and with new supply of oxygen, Schwann willed his exhaustion away more easily than he would have expected.

So he wasn't buried as deep as he had thought.

He looked around, blinking dust, blood and sweat out of his eyes, considering all possible options. He could, maybe, get out by using some of his artes now that there was enough space to do so, though it would probably kill him rather than save him; whether from the strain on his heart or simply by the whole place coming down if he attempted to break through, it didn't really matter.

Though on the other hand, staying here meant dying anyway and if he were presented by a choice, he would rather get crushed into a fine paste than to slowly suffocate. He grimaced as he imagined both possible outcomes. Of course, it would be best not to die at all now that Yuri and the others expressed such concern for his well-being. After all, the swordsman ordered him not to give up and what else this Captain of the Imperial Knights excelled in the most if not following orders?

Either way, there's no harm in tryin'.

The corners of the archer's mouth curled up in a resigned smile. With a sigh, he assumed his favourite sitting position and hung his head, hands resting on armored knees.

"Man, he really knows how ta get ta me." he mumbled quietly. "Here goes nothin'." and with a deep inhale, he gathered all of his remaining life force into the hermes blastia until it illuminated the small space around him with blinding pink light, enveloping the whole of his old, beaten-up body.

Carefuly, he channeled the energy and barely a heartbeat later, he released it all at once, breaking through the single weak spot above his raven head and onto the surface, scattering the fallen rocks and rubble like paper in the wind.

Sea-blue eyes fluttered open and he found himself in what remained of the main altar chamber, the way out only half-cleared, but still enough for him to manage it through - once outside, it should be much easier. He felt laughter scrambling its way through his sore throat. He made it! He actually made it! He could scarcely believe it...

With agility that belied his age, Schwann jumped to his feet to climg over the ruins and towards freedom.

And the moment he made the first step, the strain his body had suffered crushed on him with inevitable finality at last and he wavered, world around him becoming but a dark blur once again, and air seemed to just flow through his lungs without filling them with the so much needed oxygen. This time, however, he was sure it couldn't be because there wasn't enough.

Damn.

He felt numb and cold as if every single cell in his body had suddenly turned to lead.

Overdid it...this time... after all.

A humorless chuckle passed through partially-opened lips. He was so close...

Sorry, kids.

His body hit the cold, hard ground with a thud, small mirth still etched into the handsome, tanned face and he could hear voices again, calling out his name. But he no longer had the strength to answer, even if he didn't consider them only figments of his imagination. After all, the very thing that always scared him out of his wits wasn't the process of dying itself, but dying alone. And his mind made up these illusions to keep him comforted. And perhaps a part of him felt grateful for it, though he wouldn't be fooled, his consciousness already slipping fast out of his grasp.

Death reached for him, embraced him and it felt like he was floating, weightless, within the darkness surrounding him. He found the sensation surprisingly warm and pleasant and gave in to it easily, exhaustion getting the best of him at last...

... and the next thing he knew, he became aware he had a body. And it hurt all over. He tried to breathe in and regretted it immediately as he did so. Was hell supposed to feel like this? He expected something... different.

Schwann's eyes cracked open to look at a blurry, unfamiliar wooden ceiling. He felt his surroundings moving gently back and forth, as if on water.

Water... A ship? What the...?

Sounds of arguing voices -coming from somewhere he couldn't see- severed the train of his thoughts and with it came a creeping suspicion that this place indeed wasn't hell at all. First, there shouldn't be beds in hell, and he was certainly lying on one right now. He blinked a few times until his vision cleared enough for him to make out the small cabin around him. It looked like a ship all right. But who...?

"Captain Schwann!" a delightful cry threatened to pierce his eardrums and the raven-haired archer winced in pain, his head throbbing as if he had the worst hangover of his life.

"Sir, he's awake!" the voice -now striking him as strangely familiar- called out and then there were hurried footsteps and Schwann felt the edge of the bed drooping under someone's weight, though he couldn't even turn his head enough to see who it was.

A hand flew over his chest, bringing out the formula of his hermes blastia and he watched fingers knowingly skimming over the colorful tablet. With each quick movement, he felt life returning to his body and the pain subsiding, until it settled for a dull ache he learned to associate with lying at one place for too long.

Schwann breathed in, now finding such action ridiculously easy, his limbs once again under his control. With a wave of hand the formula disappeared again and he was able to sit up, finally getting a look into his saviour's face. And he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Leblanc...?" the name came out but a hoarse whisper, the captain still being unable to properly use his vocal cords.

Immediately, the lieutenant of the Schwann brigade jumped into attention, saluting. "Yes, sir, Captain Schwann, sir!" and he relaxed again, his face agitated once more. His dark moustache ruffled as if he wanted to say something, but didn't know how to begin.

He was saved by Boccos, who brought a jar of water from somewhere over Schwann's head and now filled one glass, handing it over to the captain. He took it with slightly trembling fingers and downed it at once, feeling the soothing, cold liquid caress his throat.

"Are you alright, sir?" the little plump man asked without shame and it earned him a reproachful look from his superior that made him try to look even smaller.

The raven-haired archer smiled and heaved a sigh as if testing if he really was all good. "Well I'm alive. 'Sppose that's good enough." he said, sea-blue eyes searching for his lieutenant's with suspicion clearly edged in their depths.

Leblanc gulped and once again went rigid, bowing deeply, arms awkwardly clamped to his sides. "Sir, I apologize for disobeying your orders, sir!" he began, eyes downcast to watch his fidgeting feet. "I will accept any punishment you deem necessary."

To his utter amazement, jingle laughter filled the cabin. Schwann clutched his chest when it brought another wave of pain to his still healing body. It turned into coughs and under Boccos' care, he could finally calm himself down, once again settled against a pillow.

"Punishment?" he repeated, astonished. "For what? If you stayed in Zaphias like I told ya, I'd be pushin' up daisies by now." his black brows furrowed in contemplation, hand reached to his chin. "Which reminds me, how did you-" violent impact shook the whole ship, interrupting him and this time Adecor burst into the cabin, out of breath.

"Lieutenant Leblanc, sir, we've caught up with Heracles!" he informed with a small salute and when he saw Schwann up and alive, he snapped his heels together in a way of greeting only to fall flat on his face down the few stairs, when there was another quake and he had lost his balance.

Heracles?

All pain was forgotten upon hearing that single name. Raven's humor disappeared, Schwann again taking over completely when sea-blue eyes widened for a split second, only to narrow dangerously the next.

"Leblanc," the voice was soft, though reserved and undoubtedly commanding. "Wait for me outside."

The old lieutenant immediately ceased berating his subordinate and with a single nod he and the tweedles left, closing the cabin door behind them.

Schwann sat up straight again, long legs thrown over the edge of the bed, head bowed and curtained by sleek raven hair hiding away his face completely. He rested his arms on his knees and for what felt like hours he just remained that way, thoughts whirling in his mind like a wild stampede. He knew what he had to do. What he wanted to do. His hand reached to his bare chest, fingertips brushed against the warm surface of the hermes blastia. For only a second, he thought about what Leblanc did, for he was sure he would die there in the deepest parts of Baction. Yet he survived somehow...

Almost automatically, Schwann stood up; the simple breeches that covered his lower body sliding half-way over his pelvic bones. He paid it no heed, shambling towards a wooden chest in the corner of the room, treading on his own trouser-legs as he did so. He pulled it open at once, rummaging through its contents before fishing out spare clothes.

How long has it been since he had first taken up the pretence of Raven of Altosk? Certainly longer than he cared to remember. Had Alexei's ideals changed somewhere during that time or much later? Perhaps earlier even? Since the very beginning of the Great War? Schwann found himself unable to remember. Memories of those long years past -sketchy at best as they were- raced vividly before his eyes as he clutched black and violet fabric to his chest, but it was no use. It seemed to him as though the Alexei he had known, warmed up to and respected was there one day and then disappeared the next, exchanged for someone completely different. Yet the First Imperial Captain refused to see the reality of it all, blindly still following the Commandant's orders no matter what they were. Why? Out of obligation perhaps? Because Alexei saved his life? Why had he done it anyway? Had he wanted to save his friend or make himself a puppet he could control at will? Schwann didn't know, and a part of him didn't even want to find out; it would be too painful. He never asked to be saved. Many times during those years, he regretted not being able to join those who had lost their lives in the Great War. Perhaps his bond with Alexei was stronger than he cared to admit. Perhaps he had hoped that the man would eventually see the wrong of his ways. But instead...

Sea-blue eyes snapped shut against the pain that didn't have anything to do with the archer's healing wounds.

But instead I ended up being stirred by Alexei's actions myself.

Estelle's smiling face swam in his rippling mind, clear and vivid as if the girl was standing right in front of him. Memories of time spent with her and Brave Vesperia; time he felt free and happier than he could remember...

It strengthened his resolve. He was no longer the man who had kidnapped the princess from Myorzo. The friend, who refused to see his comrade's true self. Schwann Oltorain was dead. He died within the depths of the Shrine of Baction. There was only Raven now. Raven of Altosk.

When he reached topside barely minutes later -pale-violet shirt tugged in black trousers; mauve, long-sleeved haori thrown over his shoulders; raven strands gathered up and tied into a fuzzy ponytail not unlike a pineapple; left hand casually resting on the hilt of the dagger at his waist- he felt more alive than ever before. And the deck went quiet at once as he gazed upon the whole Schwann brigade gathered here, looking at him with mixture of happiness, relief and anticipation. It surprised him and a smile tugged at his lips, but before he could utter a word, all of them snapped into attention like a single man and saluted.

"Welcome back, Captain Schwann!" they chorused and the sincerety of those voices momentarily robbed Raven of the ability to speak.

Gettin' senile as well as soft...

The thought brought the mirth that had disappeared as he was caught off guard, back to his handsome face. He would never have thought he could feel like this even when he still had his own heart to feel with. "First o' all, the name's Raven." he sighed with mild exasperation before sea-blue eyes returned to their faces. Some of them now wore unmistakable signs of confusion.

The raven-haired archer sighed again, his shoulders slumped. "Never mind that now. Anyhow, no time ta waste. Suppose there's no need to tell ya Alexei's gone bonkers, right?" Muttering broke out at those words, mostly hesitantly agreeing and so he continued. "N' yer ass of a Captain gotcha waist-deep in this, but he's gone now." More confused looks followed this statement, but he wasn't going to back out. "Y'all need ta stand on yer own now and do yer Knigths' job and protect Imperial citizens. I'll be gettin' off here, thanks fer the lift." and he moved to climb onto the Heracles; if he was lucky enough, he'd get the chance to give Brave Vesperia one hell of a surprise.

However the soldiers wouldn't budge. What's more, Leblanc slowly came forth, Adecor and Boccos at his heels as usual. Raven's brows furrowed and instinctively he took up a defensive pose. There was no need to, however.

"Sir, the Commandant's actions are rather incomprehensible as of late." the lieutenant overlooked his subordinates. "And we believe our main duty of protecting the citizens of the Imperium cannot be done untill we hear what His Excellence has to say about this."

"We're going with you, sir." Boccos' spear hit the wooden planks with resolution that surprised them all; the very same resolution that showed in each and everyone of the Schwann Brigade's faces.

Raven chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Ya Knights're a pain..." he heaved a sigh for what felt like thousandth time. "Can't very well storm the fort without a backup, though, that's fer sure." he nodded towards his lieutenant and the tweedles. "Ya three, let's go. The rest o' ya head back to Zaphias n' make me proud! Gotta feelin' you'll be needed with Flynn n' all the others gatherin' here."

It was already too late when the fact that he just assumed part of Schwann's attitude dawned on him and on normal occasion, he would berate himself for that, but now as he watched the Knights ready to follow his every order, he felt glad that he let himself be persuaded. There would be time to deny all about Schwann later.

"Yer fightin' yer own. Ya good with that?" he asked after a few long moments, looking back at his ship disappearing in the general direction of the capital. A member of the Royal guard fell to the ground with an arrow in his chest.

Boccos' spear cut the air as he brought the weapon down on his own enemy, the clash of metal against metal rang in their ears when Leblanc's sword connected with his opponent's and Adecor skilfully sent another one flying.

Looks like ya are...

Roar echoing high above their heads -drowning out even the sound of canons defending Heracles from the Imperial Knigths fleet under Flynn's command- made them freeze in place and look up, where a giant Entelexeia rushed through the pale-blue sky, ship tightly bound to its enormous body. The sight made Raven somewhat giddy and nervous at the same time. He didn't like the feeling, yet...

"W-w-what is that!" his own companions looked even more scared than the Royal Guards.

"About time, kids." the archer murmured to himself with a smile and sent half a dozen arrows towards the reminder of their enemies while they weren't looking at such speed, they had no way of dodging or blocking it.

"It's not our fight to win, it's theirs! We're just gonna hafta clear the way!" he shouted over the ruckus and at once, without questions, the three officers were at his side, following him up to the rear left side of the metal monstrosity, where the soldiers already spotted Ba'ul and were preparing to shoot.

They never got the chance and as the last of them fell under Leblanc's blade and the Entelexeia turned towards them, flying lower still, Raven felt a cold sting of guilt in his gut and knew that whatever comes out of this reunion, he sure deserved it all.

Please review, it's always nice for an artist to hear opinions of the audience :) Even if it's negative feedback :)