A/N: ‘What the heck? She has Connected by Destiny to finish!’ If that’s what you’re thinking (which you’re probably not), know that I decided to start another fic, because I had another sparkle of inspiration. In this AU (alternate universe) fanfic of mine, I’ve altered a few things in the ToA realm, which I don’t want to spoil at this moment. You’ll just have to read to find out, hm?

Disclaimer: I don’t own Tales of the Abyss.

:Waltz of the Oracle:

Prologue

There was a loud knocking at the front door.

Anise Tatlin snapped her head up from the book resting on her lap. Who could that be at this hour? It was nine in the morning, and only one hour remained until she could open up shop for the day. Perhaps it was an angry customer who wanted to complain about how she had ripped him off. That was impossible! She never ripped anyone off…or did she?

In any case, the knocking sounded again, this time much louder. Anise sighed and rose up from her wooden chair slowly. She walked through the lit hallway of her small house, which wouldn’t even qualify as a proper hall. In fact, it was more of a rectangular-shaped room.

Swatting away the stray specks of particles that were made visible by the light streaming in through the windows, the girl rested her hand on the doorknob, which creaked as she turned it. That definitely needed some oiling, she noted.

“Yes?” Anise said as she opened the front door a crack. She was being cautious due to the possibility of the previously mentioned angry individual.

However, to her relief, only a cheerful looking man stood on the porch, which was actually a smooth step of concrete. He took a courteous bow, taking off his hat in the process. Anise looked him up and down. Judging by his blue clothes, he was probably a Malkuth mail messenger.

“Good morning,” the man began. “Are you Ms. Anise Tatlin?”

Anise opened the door wider, wincing slightly as chips of its old brown paint fell to the earth. “That’s me. Do I have a package or something?” she replied, grinning. She was hoping for a wrapped parcel containing an astonishing amount of Gald, but knowing the only person who sent her anything, she would never receive such a gift.

The mailman nodded quickly, and zipped open the leather dufflebag slung over his broad shoulder. Thrusting his hand into its depths, he groped for something, and a few seconds later, fished it out with a satisfied smile. It was a simple, white letter. Nothing about it seemed very extraordinary.

“Here, miss,” he muttered, handing the letter to the young woman standing in front of him.

Anise took the crisp envelope in her hands, and flipped it over to its backside. She read the words written on it almost ravenously. As she’d expected, the letter was from her father, Oliver Tatlin. He always sent her letters, not parcels. What else was new?

“Thanks…” said the girl with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

The messenger bowed once more. He didn’t care much if the people he delivered things to didn’t like what they received. In his opinion, he was just doing his job; it was none of his business. “Well, then. I’ll be off now.”

Without waiting for a response from the raven-haired teen, the man turned on his heel and headed down the dirt road, in the direction of the next lucky recipients. Anise watched his retreating back until he disappeared past the tall corn stalks of Engeve. Her chocolate brown eyes lingered on the letter and the single stain of coffee that was found on it.

“Oh, Papa,” she murmured. “You know I want to hear about how you’re doing, not about your work.”

Usually, Oliver Tatlin would write to his daughter about his profession as a scientist working from dawn to dusk in Belkend. It was a city far away in the country of Kimlasca, on the Aberrian continent. Reading about how much he loved his work pleased Anise, but the man never seemed to take the initiative to tell her about his condition: if he pushed himself, if he was tired, or if he was ill. All that could be found in his messages were accounts of his findings and things that happened at the Research Laboratory.

After Anise shut the door, she decided to read the letter before it was time to begin the day’s work at the village square.

The young woman entered the sparsely furnished living room, and sat on the chair she had been occupying a few minutes before. She put the envelope on the table, which was draped with a yellow cloth. She was just about to reach for a steel knife when she realized that there wasn’t one in her presence.

“Great. Where did I put that letter opener?” she wondered, scratching her head in bewilderment. Anise glanced about the room; she always kept her writing tools close to her desk.

The girl fluttered about, first kneeling beside the green sofa. The knife wasn’t there, and she managed to get her red skirt covered in dust. Next, she tried the low bookshelf, and even groped behind it. Still, she couldn’t find what she was searching for.

“Where…” Anise began, when suddenly, she remembered. She remembered where she’d carelessly left the letter opener. Her eyes wide, she exclaimed in horror, “I used it as a butter knife!”

Anise hung her head, her spirits dampened slightly. “Darn.”

That morning, she had woken up a bit more groggy than she usually would, so, half-asleep, she unconsciously grabbed the silver knife and assumed it was a kitchen tool. She was sure that it was lying in the sink along with the other unwashed utensils.

Because she was impatient at the moment, she opted to simply rip open the white envelope. Anise made her way back to the table, no longer disappointed at the absence of her letter opener, and picked up the message. She placed her index fingers and thumbs on one edge, and with a flourish, ripped open the envelope, revealing the light blue paper folded inside it.

“Just like Papa,” she chuckled. Blue was Oliver’s favorite color, after all.

The young woman carefully pulled out the single piece of paper. She cocked her head to the side, immediately noting the short length of the letter. Normally, she’d discover two or even three sheets tucked into the envelope. Shrugging this small fact off, Anise proceeded to read her father’s words.

Dearest Anise,

How are you faring in Engeve? I hope running

your mother’s shop doesn’t wear you out too much.

She would be overjoyed and pleased to know that

you chose to take over the business while I was away.

I apologize for the length of this letter. I’m just so

excited to take a vacation, and I want to leave as

soon as I can!

You see, I was finally able to take a leave - though

it will be a short one, as the supervisor told me. I

have decided to spend that time with you, my daughter.

That’s why I shall be taking a ferry to Chesedonia

in a few hours. Then I will board a coach to Engeve.

I’m very happy to be able to see you again, Anise.

Please, please don’t tell of my visit to anyone in the

village, alright? I want it to be…a surprise.

I will arrive approximately on the next Sylphday,

if everything goes well.

Until then,

Father

P.S. I’m sorry for missing your fifteenth birthday

last month. I’ll make it up to you when I get there.

Oliver was coming home to visit! This thought was the only thing that flashed through her mind, and the girl didn’t even think about the odd line in the message: ‘Please, please don’t tell of my visit to anyone in the village, alright?’

The scientist was quite the well-loved man amongst the townfolk, and he in turn liked to socialize with them, so why was he trying to go unnoticed? The strange tidbit wasn’t recognized by his daughter.

Anise squealed, crumpling the sides of the paper in her hands unintentionally. If she had read the date of the letter’s sending correctly, then the next Sylphday was today! A huge grin was plastered on her tanned face, and it took all of her discipline to restrain herself from jumping up and down.

Her hometown of Engeve was still asleep at that hour, so she would probably be heard at least two houses down the street. Although it was a farming town, and though most of its residents awoke early, the bustling and noise generally started before noon, when people went to market.

And speaking of market, Anise was going to be late if she didn’t hurry!

“I bet Mieu will want to hear about this!” the girl giggled, placing the sheet of paper back into its envelope.

She left it on the table next to the closed book, and hurried to the front door, where a leather backpack was hanging from a stand. She took it hastily, not even bothering to sling it on to her back, and rushed outside, where she turned left towards a stone bridge.

Of course, Anise remembered to bring the key and lock the door behind her.

To be continued…

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If you were wondering, Connected by Destiny is one of my other works, which is a crossover between Tales of Legendia and Tales of Symphonia. Anyway, now that you’ve read the prologue, I hope you stick around to read the rest of the fic.

Kannono