#my elf is being put down and he's my backup char

[ysolt]

long time no Ikaros

[theguineapig3]

“The Renegade”

While the Desian defector had at least hoped to get farther than a few kilometers from the ranch before he met his fate at the hands of one of the Four Seraphim, he was willing to accept his punishment. But when he found himself receiving sympathy rather than judgment, he couldn’t help his suspicions. Why would someone in such a high position risk his status for the sake of someone else’s vengeance?

Tales of Symphonia Week, Day 5: Judgment Characters: Botta, Yuan Ka-Fai Words: 2,901 Rating: T (for graphic violence, because Magnius is a JERKFACE)

[Hi, hello, here’s my obligatory Botta/Renegades story because I love the Renegades brotp and I also love to invent horrible heart-wrenching backstories for characters who, like Botta, don’t get a tragic backstory in canon. Because every Tales character deserves their own Tragic Backstory™.]

Word traveled fast within Cruxis. Botta knew that. He knew that word of the riot at the ranch and the subsequent events would be relayed all the way up to Yggdrasil within a few hours. By then he’d hoped to be on a ship, somewhere out at sea beyond the reach of their surveillance. But it wouldn’t be easy. Magnius had not been happy, and his other minions would surely be making their way to Palmacosta as well.

Funny, how the comrades that Botta had come to rely on were ready to punish him for his misbehavior with no thought to the reasoning behind his actions. Why had it taken him so long to realize how thoroughly Cruxis had brainwashed them all?

Unfortunately, Botta seemed to have underestimated his injuries. He was dragging behind, struggling to clamber back down the mountainside and considering stopping in Thoda to rest before moving on. He was still wearing most of his Desian uniform, after all, and could order the locals to provide him with any medicine and care he desired. But his pride got the better of him and he decided against it. It would delay his arrival in Palmacosta too much, and Thoda’s “fleet” consisted of nothing but washtubs with makeshift oars- unsuitable for a runaway wanting to disappear into the sea.

But Botta never made it to Palmacosta. He never even made it to Thoda.

Instead, after tripping on a patch of unsteady gravel on the hillside and beginning to pick himself up, he heard a voice from behind him. It surprised him, only because he hadn’t heard any sign of movement nearby. Whoever it was must have appeared out of thin air.

“Need a little help, there?”

The mana he felt indicated a half-elf, but it wasn’t Magnius’ voice, or the voice of any Desians he recognized. Botta turned his head, unable to turn the rest of his body in his current condition, and the first thing that caught his eye was the pair of luminescent wings shining behind the figure. This was no ordinary half-elf. This was an angel.

And not just any angel either.

“...Lord Yuan?”

Yuan stared, raising an eyebrow. “I asked if you needed help. Or do you just want to die out here?”

Botta cringed and squeezed his injured arm. “Did Lord Yggdrasil send you here after me? I can’t imagine Magnius having any power over one of the Four Seraphim.”

To Botta’s surprise, Yuan actually sat down next to him. “No one sent me here. Magnius reported on the riot, the casualties, and, of course on your little outburst. You’re in real hot water, you know that? No matter how recently Magnius might’ve been appointed, picking a fight with any Grand Cardinal is a major offense.”

“So are you here to punish me?”

Yuan let out a pensive hum. “Are you looking for punishment?”

“If I were looking for punishment, do you think I’d be running away?” Botta replied with a pained laugh. “But I don’t suppose that matters now that you’re here. What is your objective? Are you going to take me back to the ranch? Or are you going to go over Magnius’ head and take me straight to Lord Yggdrasil?”

“Eh, I still haven’t decided,” Yuan answered with a shrug. “What would you prefer?”

“You’re asking me what I’d prefer? Doesn’t that defeat th-” Botta started with a rebuttal, but he was stopped by a cough and took a moment to catch his breath. He tried to hide the blood that he’d coughed onto his hand, but it was likely Yuan saw it anyway. “-d-doesn’t that defeat the purpose of punishment?”

Yuan shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps. But sometimes we are far crueler to ourselves than others are to us. With that in mind, I challenge you to pick your poison. Be as kind or as cruel to yourself as you want.”

Botta was intrigued by the question, but he could feel his breathing dampened by what he could only assume was blood in his throat and lungs. Part of him was wary to speak, not wanting to let on just how injured he really was. But as he considered his answer to the question, he realized that it was himself he wanted to keep it from, not Yuan.

It didn’t matter if Yuan knew. Botta had already made his decision.

After taking a moment to clear his throat, he finally responded to Yuan’s question. “I would rather die than return to work for the Desians right now. Leave me to my fate or kill me yourself- I don’t care. But that’s my answer.”

Yuan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Well! If that isn’t a melodramatic reply. You hate the Desians that much?”

Botta glanced away. “I will no longer obey the orders of an organization that does not- not-” He stopped to cough. “-value its members’ lives.”

There was a moment of silence, and a sparkle of recognition took hold in Yuan’s eyes. “I see. That’s how it is. Makes things a lot easier for me.”

Botta opened his mouth to ask what Yuan meant, but he couldn’t get a word out through his clogged throat, and by the time he finally realized what was going on, Yuan had pressed a hand to his forehead.

As his consciousness faded, the last thing that passed through his mind was the name Harun.

The earlier events replayed in Botta’s mind, feeling both as though they were in slow motion and yet all passing in a blur. 

When Magnius had arrived as the new leader of the human ranch, none of those in interim command there knew what to expect. There was some talk from Botta’s comrades that he had been unfairly passed over for the recently vacated position of Grand Cardinal, but Botta was too proper a soldier to question Lord Yggdrasil’s decisions. And while Magnius’ practices put the ranch in disarray for some time, Botta felt no ill will toward his new commander. On the contrary; it was Magnius’ arrival that had brought Harun to the ranch as well.

Magnius had arrived with a posse of new recruits, skilled but inexperienced fighters. Harun was the shortest one, with an innocent face that hid a quick temper and a penchant for responding to high-ranking commanders with sass. Magnius treated such behavior with the same arrogance and disdain he held toward the insubordination of inferior beings, assuring Botta that this was something that could be “beaten out of” Harun. But as the attitude persisted, Botta’s curiosity towards it grew... and so did his interest in the soldier to whom it belonged.

It shouldn’t have worked. There was the gap in status, the gap in age, the professional environment, the nature of their work, and a host of other factors to consider. But no one stopped them. No one scolded Harun for openly flirting with a commanding officer. No one scolded Botta for playing favorites among the lower-ranking soldiers. Even Lord Magnius, who kept a sharp watch on everything that went on at the ranch, seemed to turn a blind eye. 

Everyone accepted it. And Botta grew complacent in their acceptance.

But where several years under Magnius’ control had seen the Desians more comfortable in their routines, it saw stricter control over the prisoners. The humans at the ranch, at least the younger ones with more energy and will to fight back, became more and more unhappy. A riot was inevitable. What wasn’t inevitable, however, was the way that Magnius handled it.

Initially, Botta had accepted Magnius’ apparent plan. Low-ranking soldiers were sent outside to where the prisoners had gathered, under orders to bring the prisoners back into the buildings. Naturally, the prisoners fought against the soldiers to the best of their abilities, and as the humans used their numbers to overwhelm the Desian soldiers before they could call for backup, the rioting group formed into a belligerent cluster.

That was when Magnius’ strategy became apparent to Botta. Unfortunately, it was already too late to stop it.

Magnius’ laughter echoed off the buildings as the area was engulfed in flames. Botta could feel his face turning pale, as he saw the other commanders’ doing as well. Screams of terror and pain filled the spaces in between Magnius’ laughs, and persisted even when the flames began to die down. Botta was the first one to set foot on the charred earth, shuffling through the bodies, his panic growing more and more fervent as he searched through the scalded remains for a familiar face he knew had been in the middle of the scuffle.

It was a horrible way to die. Harun’s face was scarred and contorted almost beyond recognition- only enough so to elicit a wail from deep in Botta’s throat. Before it could turn into a scream, he felt a hand reach out and grab the hem of his cloak. One of the humans, just barely clinging to life, tried to beg for Botta’s help. But terrifyingly- or perhaps mercifully- Magnius’ boot landed on the human’s neck with a hollow cracking sound.

“Now you see what happens to inferior beings who misbehave! If any other insolent humans want to step out of line, I’ll be happy to watch you burn as well!” 

Botta took one last glimpse at Harun’s pitiful corpse. The face that had just been smiling at him hours before was now sickening to look at. “L-Lord Magnius, there were our own within that crowd! You... you... murdered them!”

Magnius turned to look at Botta, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t send anyone into that crowd who wasn’t replaceable and you know it. We all have to make sacrifices to show these inferior beings who’s boss. If you aren’t willing to do even that, what pride do you have in being a Half-Elf?”

The cracking and popping of embers around them punctuated the silence. Botta waited for some kind of back-up from his comrades... but none came. Not a single fellow Desian stood up for him.

It wasn’t like they didn’t know why Botta was so disturbed. No one could miss the way the usually stern captain would soften his voice when giving orders to a certain cadet. No one could miss the way the usually rebellious little soldier would forego any smart-aleck remarks when orders came from Lord Botta. No one could miss the way Botta and Harun regularly disappeared on “evening guard tower patrol” together, despite it being obvious that there was no such thing.They knew. They all knew.

They knew, and yet they said nothing.

It was Botta’s voice alone that shot back at Magnius. Botta’s fist alone that found its way to Magnius’ face. Botta’s sword alone that was drawn when Magnius invited him to fight. 

No matter what the others felt, it was Botta alone who openly mourned. And Botta alone who faced the consequences.

There were still flames racing through Botta’s mind as he returned to consciousness. He glanced around him as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The walls were modern and clean-looking, as though he were back in a Desian facility. His stomach churned and he started to sit up, but a pain shot through his chest and he collapsed back onto the pillow.

“I wouldn’t try to move too much if I were you. Just because the bleeding has stopped doesn’t mean your wounds are fully healed.”

The voice was familiar enough that Botta recognized it. “Lord Yuan!” he gasped, catching sight of the man watching from the corner. He looked smaller and less intimidating without his wings, but being stuck in bed, Botta had no room to talk. “Where are we?” he demanded.

“Near Triet,” Yuan replied. “This old warehouse was used back when Sylvarant was still flourishing, but it’s since been abandoned. I’ve fixed it up a little- given it my own sort of flair. What do you think?”

Botta frowned. “I think your interior decorating skills leave much to be desired.”

Yuan let out a ‘tsk’ sound and approached the bed. “Harsh words to be saying toward someone who just saved your life. How about a ‘thank you’ for stopping your massive internal hemorrhaging?”

“What’s wrong with you? I asked you to kill me, dammit!”

“If you keep up that attitude, I just might.” Yuan sat down at the foot of the bed and wagged a finger. “You said that you’d rather die than go back to working for the Desians. But since you didn’t seem to understand that there are more options out there for you, I thought you should at least live long enough to make an informed decision.”

“Other options? Besides doing the bidding of Lord Yggdrasil?” Botta replied. “I’m skeptical, but curious.”

Yuan stood up again, holding his arms out with a flourish. “Well, here’s what I’m thinking. There are, of course, the options you’ve considered- dying and returning to the ranch to accept your punishment. But you could always find a place to live here in Sylvarant. Sure, it might be difficult to find a village that would even let you in, much less accept you, but hey! If death is preferable to working with the Desians, then living as an outcast might sound like fun to you.”

Botta frowned, but said nothing. He wondered where Yuan was going with this.

“Then there’s always Tethe’alla. Living conditions are always better in the flourishing world. You’re very smart, so I’m sure they’d give you some sort of laboratory job. Sure, you’d be chained to a lab desk in some underground facility for the rest of your life, but you’d be doing important work... or so I’ve heard. Or...”

“Or?” Botta repeated. 

“Or you could stay here and help me with a little pet project I’m working on.”

There. That was it. Suddenly Yuan’s rambling made more sense.

Botta turned his head away. “I see where this is going. You’re coercing me into doing your dirty work. I apologize that you went to all the trouble to bring me here, but rest assured, I stand by my earlier decision. I will never again be a Desian’s pawn-”

“There you go again, not even waiting to get all the information,” Yuan responded with a sigh. “This is strange for you. Your superiors always reported that you were calm and collected, even in dire situations. But I suppose that shock and grief can do this sort of thing to you.” He stopped and moved to the end of the bed, leaning over to look Botta in the eyes. “How would you like to avenge your friend’s death?”

“...excuse me?”

“Do I have it wrong? Friend, family, lover? What exactly was your relationship with the soldier who died anyway?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Botta quipped, turning his head away. It might’ve been a secret that everyone at the ranch knew, but a secret was still a secret, and he had trained himself to deny it. 

“You must’ve had some relationship with one of the soldiers who died in today’s riot,” Yuan explained. “I know raw grief when I see it. Trust me. Now who did you lose? A friend? A sibling? A love-”

“A lover.” Botta interrupted.

“I see. And what was this lover’s name?”

“Why do you need to know?!”

Yuan didn’t answer right away. He paced back and forth along the end of the bed a few times and then sat down again, looking toward the other side of the room.

“Martel.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mine was named Martel. We never married- we were engaged when she died. What was your lover’s name?”

Botta felt a lump in his throat, and this time it wasn’t from any sort of injury. He spoke lightly, almost frightened to be too loud. 

“Harun.”

“That’s a nice name.” Yuan’s voice was quiet in return, an oddly respectful tone coming from someone who had been so disrespectful so far. “How would you like to help me avenge Harun? To undermine the Desians from the inside, to destroy their plans before they can ever come to fruition? I’ve heard a lot about your skills from Yggdrasil when he was considering who to promote to Grand Cardinal. It’s a shame he picked that brute Magnius over you. With my genius and your strategic planning, we could be Cruxis’ undoing. What do you say?”

Botta finally gathered the strength to sit up, and he did so with a grunt of pain. “Why?” he asked. “Why in the world would one of the Four Seraphim help me with a plan of vengeance against his own organization?”

Yuan shook his head. “It’s not my organization. Not anymore. Yggdrasil has lost sight of what he’s doing- or, rather, why he’s doing it. This is not what Martel would have wanted. Not for either of us.” He looked up again, directing his gaze back at Botta. “But I’m technically still one of the Four Seraphim. To go against Yggdrasil openly would be absurd. It would never work. That’s why I need someone else to be the face of the rebellion. I need an obvious choice- a renegade... and who better than you?”

“A renegade...” Botta clutched at the blankets of the bed, considering the words. “I can’t say I’m sold on the idea just yet. But I am intrigued.”

A satisfied grin spread across Yuan’s face.

“That’s all I need to hear.”