Hey look! My very first author's note! Alright, I know, not a big deal. *deflates*
I can't believe I'm actually posting this because it was mainly written on a random whim. Now I'm no expert with writing in the present tense; this is my first try actually, so please excuse any stupid errors and bad grammar you may find. ^^'

Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Vesperia or any of the characters therein. Props go to Namco Bandai. Though I do own the OCs that will most likely pop up through the course of the story!

Twist of Fate

Chapter One: Oblivious

"She's still out of it..."

"She'll be all right."

I hear...voices...?

"Are you sure Aunt Em? She's been like this for hours already!"

A child's voice...a boy?

"Sure I'm sure. You heard what the doctor said, she'll be fine. Now get some rest, Ted."

...A woman?

"Aww, okay. But lemme know when she wakes up a'right?"

What, who, are they talking about...? ...Me?

"Alright. Make sure you shut the door after you."

Thumping footsteps, a shuffle and the giveaway thud of a door being closed reverberates through the heavy drone fading in and out of my ears. My head feels heavy and it feels like I'm lying down on something. A bed?

I don't move and listen closely to find an indication of where I am and who these people are. I think I hear glass clinking somewhere to my right and then there's a sigh. "It's about time he's gone off to bed," the woman mutters softly, her voice completely unfamiliar.

I don't recognize any of these voices. I don't know these people.

This one thought forces my heavy eyelids to snap open, but I shut them quickly as soon as a blinding light causes thousands of pins and needles to dance around my head.

"Agh," I let out a groan, tentatively placing a hand on my forehead, which feels oddly warm and clammy.

"Hm? You're finally awake!" the woman's voice exclaims and the sudden increase in volume makes my head throb even more than it already is.

"Wha...?" I force my elbows to my sides and hoist my body up; blinking slowly as my eyes gradually register to the light which I now realize isn't so bright after all. Squinting, I move my head to the side to see the room's other occupant but...a blurry face suddenly zooms in full view right in front of me and shrieking, I throw myself back reflexively which turns out to be a bad idea because the back of my head painfully crashes into something solid. Something solid and pain inducing.

"Holy-ow," Baring my teeth, I crouch over and nurse my throbbing head as if rubbing it gently might miraculously take the pain away. It doesn't.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Headache, head rush, pain...all over my head. "Ahahahow."

"Calm down! I'm not going to hurt you," the woman assures, her voice conveying her surprise. With a quick glance to the side I see her hands hovering in front of her as if she was uncertain to touch me in case I decide to destroy my head again. Which I won't be doing, oww. "Though it looks like you've done a pretty good job of it yourself."

The bed lets out a light creak as the woman seats herself down and I lift my head slightly to get a proper look at her. She seems to be middle-aged, with chestnut brown hair covered by a bonnet of sorts. The look of concern in her eyes is almost enough to lower my guard and the next thing I'm aware of is her hands on both my shoulders as she attempts to usher me down gently. But it's not that easy because, well, I'm still hunched up in a ball.

I decide against resisting, already feeling tired, and let myself be set back carefully onto the pillow that she raises against the bed's headboard—which, through my hazy thoughts, I realize is the culprit of the painful headache I'm now trying to endure.

The pillow smells sort of like oranges and some spice...cinnamon? Strange...and I finally realize that the small wooden bed is positioned near a window. I can almost feel the planks underneath the thin mattress. This isn't how beds usually feel, aren't they normally more soft and comfy?

"There we go..." the woman murmurs, folding the covers below my chest and smoothing it out. Regardless that she seems harmless enough, I still find myself glancing warily at her face, trying in some way to figure out who she is.

I decide staring isn't quite going to get me any answers so I open my mouth to ask, but all that comes out is a raspy cough and before anything else can be "said" the palm of her hand is pressed against my blazing forehead. With a small frown and a shake of her head, the brown-haired woman turns around and walks to the chest of drawers near the door and I watch after her, a bit confused.

Is she a doctor or something...?

Hearing bottles clicking and objects shuffling in the background, I exhale and close my eyes for a moment. No, wait, can't sleep now. If I look around I might be able to determine where I am exactly. So I open my eyes again, a little reluctantly this time.

The room I'm in seems to be pretty small and is dimly lit by a candle or two on the desk next to the bed where I'm in a half-sitting half-laying position. I can't see through the window on my left because it's covered with a cream-coloured curtain, but because of the candles I can tell that it's night.
There's nothing else in the white-painted room apart from a small table, a chest of drawers, a brown shelf and a wooden chest at the foot of the bed.

Taking in my surroundings, I force a swallow. My mouth is so dry. I need water...

And just like that a glass of water is presented before me and I find myself blinking in confusion as I stare at the transparent liquid. Wondering how it magically appeared, I finally realize that the woman is standing to the side and handing it to me.

Oh. I see.

"Here you go, drink up," she ushers. Staring at the glass, I wonder if I should accept it or not, but then I remember just how scratchy my throat is. "It's not poisoned or anything, just your usual plain water."

With that plainspoken bit of information, I brazenly take the glass from her withdrawing hands and drink up. The cool liquid almost immediately soothes my dry throat and I keep on swallowing till the last bit, paying no heed to the awkward fact that I just grabbed the glass from her hands like a hooligan. When I'm done, I find that I'm able to think more clearly and the woman takes the empty glass back.

When last did I drink water that I'm overly appreciating it right now?

I watch the water drip as she twists a soaked cloth over a bowl filled halfway with water on the side-desk. "There now, that should bring down the fever," she says, placing the damp cloth on my forehead. "How are you feeling?"

Blinking, I realize that I haven't spoken since I...screamed a few minutes ago. How impolite of me, but I'm so confused and tired I can't even think far enough to remember where I am, how I got here and who she is.

I feel my lips twitch into a weak smile, which doesn't last long before it falls again. "I'm fine. Just...just a small headache," a small pause and then, "Thank you. For the water, I mean."

The woman nods, gently pushing my head back down when I try to sit upright. Just who is this woman?

She has a slender figure, wears clothing in colours my mind somehow classifies as drab, and has purple-ish eyes. Her hair is tied in a loose ponytail, partially covered by a thin looking bonnet which allows two locks of hair to fall on either side of her temples and flick up at her shoulders.

Instead of voicing that particular question, I come out with something else that's been bugging me. "Where am I?"

"You're at an inn, in the lower quarter of Zaphias," she answers.

"Zaphias?" I echo, trying to think just where in the world that is. It sounds familiar, but in a way, it doesn't.

"Are you from the Capital?" she asks carefully and I can almost feel her searching gaze scan my expression. I keep my face fairly straight and purse my lips, contemplating my answer.

If I don't recognize the name then I'm probably not from around here. I mutter, "No...I don't think I am."

She tilts he head to the side, though doesn't look all too surprised by my answer. "Well then, where are you from?" she continues, genuine interest surfacing her expression. I falter, directing this question to myself.

...Where am I from?

It disturbs me that I seem to struggle with this. How can I not know where I'm from? "I don't know." I give in, wincing at the pain shooting through my temples. This headache is starting to feel more like a migraine now.

She frowns at my withered tone, "You were found unconscious in the Mayoccia plains, right outside the Lower Quarter. Does that remind you of anything?"

May-wha-tia plains? Lower quarter? I try to make sense of what she says, but I don't get that far.

I shake my head softly. "I don't think I...w-wait. Unconscious? Wha—?"

She interrupts my bewildered mumblings quickly, raising one hand. "It's okay; don't think too hard about it. The doctor says you've had a small head injury; he'll see you in the morning. Maybe you'll remember something by then."

I settle down, for now dismissing the mysteries of how I was apparently found unconscious near an unfamiliar sounding capital. I'm still freaked out, believe me, but my exhaustion is currently far to overwhelming to let it take over.

"So you're not a doctor?" I manage.

"Heavens no!" She seems almost astonished by the idea, and as far as I can tell, probably finding a bit of humor in it. She stands up with a small smile. "I'm the inn's owner, you can call me Emma. What's your name?"

Automatically my mouth opens to answer. As with any other normal person, it probably comes naturally and out of politeness to give your name in turn of someone else's right? Though that doesn't exactly happen. I find myself hesitating, and that moment of hesitation soon turns into a silent pause.

My name?

...Saying my name shouldn't be a problem right? You shouldn't be wracking your brain when someone asks for it. No person can forget their own name, because you grow up your entire life being called by the same name, it's practically engraved into your memory. So then why is it that I'm struggling so hard to recall mine?

My eyes widen with realization: I don't remember my name.

"I-I don't know," Emma quirks her brow at my sudden uneasy tone. "I don't remember- I can't seem to..."

"Settle down, that's all right," Her surprised expression betrays her tone completely but she keeps a placid smile, making sure I lie down again. "You should rest now."

Emma takes the cloth off my forehead and I lift my hand slightly, only to let it drop limply to my side. I think I was actually trying to snatch the cloth back, though she doesn't seem to notice while she moves some things around on the desk.

"I don't get it...why don't I know my name?" I sigh; resting my hands on my lap. The question is mainly directed to myself, but I think she hears because, from my peripheral vision, I see Emma turn her head.

"It'll come back to you," she assures sympathetically. "You're sure to remember something come morning." She takes the wooden bowl in her hands and turns to me once again. "The doctor will see you in the morning so you can stay here for the while."

I give a thankful smile and stop myself from nodding because that will most likely increase this stupid headache.

"Now rest."

Well that was a rather abrupt change of tone. Though sleep does sound appealing right now. As she walks towards the doorway, I slip under the covers, taking in slow and steady breaths, to calm myself from panicking. Though it's too late for that, I pretty much already am.

A breeze seems to be blowing from somewhere in the room causing the candlelight to flicker and shadows to elongate on the walls, but I'm too dazed to move my head and look where it's coming from. Instead, I stare at the ceiling, feeling the cool air sweep off the side of my face.

"Be sure to blow out the candle before you sleep, dear. We wouldn't want the inn catching fire in our sleep," she instructs from the doorway.

"Okay," I say, turning my head to look at her and noticing the dark passage behind her. So it is night...huh.

"Sleep well," she responds from behind the partially closed door and then quietly shuts it, just as she had opened it. I listen, and when footsteps die away with distance I hoist myself upright using the headboard to support my back. I close my eyes and exhale before opening my eyes again running my hand through my hair.

Alone in the foreignness of the inn room, I attempt to recall what I did the day before or any time before I woke up here. Quickly giving up on that when I hit a blank, I try recalling my name again, even though I know resting will probably help clear up my fatigued mind and make things easier.

"Why can't I remember?" I murmur, irritation and panic growing by the minute. That panic shoots into a sudden growth spurt when I realize that my name isn't the only thing I don't remember.

What is my surname? Where do I live if this is an inn? Do I even have a home? Any friends? Cousins? Siblings? Parents? Grandparents? What are the names of my relatives, if even I have any? Shouldn't I? Wouldn't I be with them right now if I had any? What am I doing here then?

Compared to everything else I don't know, I could care less about my name!

An uncomfortable knot forms in the pit of my stomach and I swallow difficulty, my throat seemingly dry again. Realizing that my body's shivering, I heave a heavy sigh and shake my head, inviting my slowly decreasing headache to return for round two. I lower myself on my back and stare up hopelessly at the ceiling.

I guess...all I really can do is wait till morning. By then I might or might not remember anything so for now, I think I should get some sleep. Breathing in the strange scent of oranges and cinnamon, the light from the flame by the bedside flashes in bright colours behind my shut eyes.

Zaphias...

A/N: Hm. I know it's not much, but this was just a prologue. Please review and tell me what you think! Opinions, advice, suggestions, criticism...Let them be known! I'll give you...*looks around* uh, my spare eraser...?