Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Symphonia.
Warning: This is written for you think as though you're the one seeing this in real life in front of you, this is crucial if you are to understand Kratos's reactions; because of this—if read as intended—this story contains disturbing adult themes.
And before any of y'all start calling out of character on me, most of it will be justified/explained.
Zelos entered Yggdrasill's 'throne room'. Really, the guy had such a superiority complex. And a god complex. And a sister complex.
The man was a whole mess of complexes actually.
Zelos was pretty sure there was no need for such a room, except perhaps to make Yggdrasill feel more important. Probably for the same reason he took on an adult form, Yggdrasill probably thought he could garner more respect from his subordinates if he didn't look like the fourteen year old he is and will always be.
Maybe it was another complex thing of his—a desire to look like the evil overlord he basically was.
Oh no, Zelos had no delusions about his own role, he knew he was one of the bad guys; but he liked to think himself more of an anti-villain in a way—at least Zelos had a mostly legit reason for his actions, unlike Yggdrasill.
While not having the appearance of a child may initially convince them—them as in the Desians, among others, certainly not Zelos—to join Yggdrasill, or at least listen to what he has to say at first as opposed to simply ignoring the kid, the appearance of Yggdrasill's adult form was practically counterproductive. With his pretty ginormous rainbow butterfly wings and matching wing gauntlets—wing gauntlets—combined with his outfit and hairstyle choice, he just barely avoided being mistaken as a girl if only because of his voice.
But he made an extremely convincing poster boy for homosexuality.
However, Yggdrasill managed to pull them off in a way that earned him more than enough respect and gave him such an air of authority and might that even his wing gauntlets seemed like a symbol of power instead of a symbol of vanity.
Yggdrasill made himself more than intimidating; even Zelos himself dare not show him anything but the respect expected of him as one of the man's higher-ranked, more valuable subordinates—an itsy bit more than that at times, just to be on the safe side—on occasion, debatably more respect than Zelos showed the King himself, certainly more than he'd ever shown the Pope.
This was mainly because of one thing.
— — — — — — —
Kratos had entered the room to turn in his report he had to spend numerous hours on when he walked in on a scene he would never be able to expunge from his memory even if he lived forever.
He shoved away the thought that the reason for Mithos's unusual request to personally deliver a physically written out report was so that Kratos must witness this.
Yggdrasill sat in his true form—the one of a child—in the chair that looked so much like a throne as he leaned down and whispered in the ear of someone facing him on his knees in front of the chair's right armrest. Something in Kratos's subconscious seemed to realize he most definitely did not want to hear what was being said so his ears did not pick up the words. Attached to the same armrest was a long chain that ended in a metal collar that circled the person's neck.
Kratos realized with a start that he recognized the person.
Zelos Wilder, Kratos had only met him a few times but it was difficult to forget one with such a personality as his. But Zelos is someone who would never be in this situation, perhaps Kratos was mistaken.
No sooner than he thought this did Yggdrasill say something that caused Zelos to stiffen in fright before Yggdrasill placed a small kiss on his cheek, causing Zelos to jerk back in terror before desperately scrambling away as far as possible and as fast as he could manage, only to be stopped halfway across the room by the chain reaching its end; the sudden halting causing him to fall to the ground once more.
Zelos pulled on the collar as it pushed against his throat, sharply turning around in an attempt to lessen the pressure on his neck. As Zelos's knees began to slide across the smooth floor, Kratos's eyes followed the chain back to where Yggdrasill was tugging on it to drag Zelos back towards him.
Zelos struggled for a few moments more as he was pulled across the floor before giving in. With a smirk, Yggdrasill released the chain as Zelos crawled back to him, finally stopping before him to place his head on Yggdrasill's lap. Like a dog. Then Yggdrasill began to pet him as if he was a master forgiving a misbehaving puppy. The entire time Zelos did not utter a single word.
The sight was wrong in ways that could never be described, no matter how hard one tries. It was so disturbingly twisted that it was making him physically ill, Kratos realized as nausea began to set in.
— — — — — — —
"Lord Yggdrasill, you requested my presence?" Zelos asked in a respectful tone, bowing at the waist. See? Zelos could show some formality if his life depended on it; which it very well could.
"Yes, I did." Yggdrasill replied and paper could be heard shifting in his hands.
Zelos straightened at his words as he focused as much attention as he dared on holding the right expression of obedience borne of both respect and fear. It wasn't difficult.
What made the difference between Yggdrasill being a fairy in multiple meanings of the term and he being the lord of all angels he was is the incredibly unnerving air about him. To most meeting him and not knowing a thing about him, Yggdrasill did not need those wings to convince someone to do as he says; the angel thing only changed that 'most meeting him' to 'almost everyone meeting him'.
Zelos hadn't been almost everyone. There were times he wished he had.
Yggdrasill looked up from the papers and Zelos knew this was one of those times.
Yggdrasill—no, Lord Yggdrasill, for this man, this king of heaven and all those who reside there, could not be anything less than a ruler, not as he is now—had that one smile on his face. The one that wasn't quite a smirk but wasn't quite a smile. The one that was disconcerting like nothing has, is, or ever will be. The one that convinced Zelos so recently yet so long ago to go against everything he's ever done and subjugate himself to another's cause and command without question.
The serene smile that struck a great and terrible fear deep into Zelos's heart.
It was a fear that was both irrational like a child's fear of the dark and all too rational like the fear for one's life. It was a fear that one could never fully—or perhaps, could never truly—hide.
— — — — — — —
Yggdrasill seemed to finally notice him, "Ah, Kratos, do you have the report on the Chosen's Journey compiled?"
Kratos forced his expression to remain unaffected, but only with enormous effort; until now it had always been the 'female' or 'Sylvaranti' Chosen. Now it was as if there was only one.
Kratos, not trusting himself to speak, merely nodded and prayed to all the matters of luck and fate that had abandoned the worlds five thousand years ago that his walk remained steady as he approached to hand Yggdrasill the many paged report. Zelos shifted to curl up at Yggdrasill's feet exactly as a dog would.
Kratos was going to be sick if he didn't leave soon, "If that is all?" asked as he began to draw back. Please let him go. Please don't make him suffer a single second more of this.
"Kratos, I don't believe you've met my new pet."
He froze; no, please Mithos, don't do this to him.
"Say hello, Zelos."
Any hope Kratos may have had that this was merely nothing but a nightmare brought on by finally managing to fall asleep for the first time in millenniums was fragmented into millions of pieces by these words. This really was happening, it really was Zelos Wilder—the proud and pompous living, breathing, person—on the ground in front of him, serving as Mithos's new pet.
If Yggdrasill noticed that Kratos's face had turned a sickly pale, he didn't show it as Zelos sat up, glanced at Yggdrasill hesitantly before leaning out to quickly lap at the half-extended hand that Kratos had frozen in the middle of withdrawing just long enough to satisfy Yggdrasill. Or get his point across.
Yggdrasill smiled that one serene smile of his that could send shivers down Kratos's spine. The smile that he had not possessed four thousand years ago, "I shall call you if have need of you again. Welcome back to Cruxis, Kratos."
— — — — — — —
"Something very unfortunate has come to my attention."
Zelos swallowed too discretely for anyone but an angel to notice; but an angel would notice perfectly fine. Zelos wondered what could possibly have happened; did something go wrong with the other Chosen at the Tower of Salvation? To Zelos's understanding, the event had occurred no more than an hour or so ago. But what did this have to do with him?
Then an even greater terror struck Zelos, one that he could only hope was interpreted by Lord Yggdrasill—even in Zelos's own thoughts, the title was now used, lest his mind be invaded by the ruler and disrespect is found, even when Zelos's thoughts are at their most traitorous—as trepidation instead of the dread of his connection to the Renegades being discovered, for Zelos knew for sure that he could not completely conceal his emotions this time.
There was also the thought that his subconscious banished so fast that it almost didn't register. Almost. That something could have happened to her—his reason for living.
Martel was no Goddess but Zelos prayed to her and any and all matters of luck and fate that may exist—for there had to have been something before her, right?—that his fears were all unfounded, every single one of them, most of all the last one.
But Martel was no Goddess and is it not easier to establish a belief system if there was never one to precede it?
— — — — — — —
Kratos nodded and bowed before warping straight to his quarters and immediately vomiting the dinner he'd had to eat the previous night in Hima, clutching the table for support.
He felt so very, very mortal.
"I have heard some truly horrific rumors about the eldest Sage's cooking; I'm surprised you managed to keep it in for more than twelve hours if you were forced to eat it."
Kratos straightened to glare at the speaker, "Yuan," he had not realized there was someone already in the room, "what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I was asked to confer with you on the possible motives of the Desian traitors who wrote these," he indicated the stack of papers he'd set on the table's surface, "and perhaps who they work for and to what extent; apparently we are the last resort, there is only so much mindless drones can do."
Yuan hesitated, "Are you quite well?" he couldn't have Kratos dying just yet. "There is obviously something wrong and if you cannot work perhaps we should let Yggdrasill know of this in case-"
"No!"
Yuan blinked at the sharp reaction, "Now I surely must know what is going on."
Kratos seemed to hesitate, "I assume you are acquainted with Zelos Wilder."
"Yes," more than you know, Kratos, more than you know, "he's quite the haughty young man,"
Kratos's eyes darkened, "Not anymore."
— — — — — — —
"It pertains to your sister."
Zelos's eyes widened and color left his face. "My sister…?" he echoed faintly. No, it wasn't true, nothing bad should happen to her! He had to resist the urge to desperately demand what had occurred.
"Yes; Seles, I believe her name was."
Any façade Zelos may have ever put up crumbled into dust. What he was being told overshadowed who it was that was telling it to him.
Zelos began to tremble, "W-was?" his voice shook in manner similar to a child near tears. A young child so alone, so lost, and so very, very frightened.
"Yes, you see; there are some traitors among my ranks. A few reports were…salvaged from the ruined hard drive of a destroyed human ranch sent from small groups of Desians patrols sent to Tethe'alla informing of their movements to their leader. Their exact missions haven't quite been identified as of yet; however that does not concern you, the reports are outdated as it is. Nonetheless, there was something of interest held within one of them."
The angel lord stood and walked up to Zelos to stop in front of him; observing him for a moment before continuing.
"They passed by, or rather, through a certain abbey. It didn't mention your sister by name, of course; but it was not difficult to discern, you know how…detailed Desians are with their reports pertaining to such matters." He tilted his head slightly, "Then again, perhaps not. Maybe you would like to see for yourself."
He held out the report to Zelos. It was not taken.
He retracted the papers, "No? Very well," the man said as though Zelos had politely declined instead of his trembling worsening and the look in his eyes became even more lost and hopeless.
The paper was so white; a pure, untouched color, unblemished except for that which spoke of great tragedy. The paper was so white.
White like snow.
— — — — — — —
As Kratos related the incident, Yuan kept a mostly neutral expression, as Kratos would no doubt expect of him.
However, inside, he was deeply disturbed by this development. He knew Wilder better than Kratos and that Wilder was even more conceited and in love with himself than Kratos was aware of. If this was what Yggdrasill was capable of, it made Yuan's job a lot harder.
Kratos had become such a bleeding heart because of his little trip and Yuan wasn't going to pass up a chance to use this to his advantage—he needed to know if this was an isolated incident and if not, how to avoid it happening to someone even more important to the Renegades than Wilder; Botta and his two tagalongs, for example, were too useful to risk being mentally torn to shreds.
"Do you know for sure it was Wilder?" Yuan asked when Kratos reached where he had approached Yggdrasill.
"Yes, I'm positive. Mithos used his name before basically ordering to lick my hand like a dog upon greeting another person."
Yuan was silent for a moment, "Was he really so broken?"
Kratos glanced aside in thought, "I cannot say for certain—he is still very much aware that he is a person, yet he doesn't seem to resist at all. I feel like I'm missing something." Realization seemed to dawn on him before he looked ill once more, "When he licked my hand, he must have tried to communicate with me using dot-dash code. He'd spelled out the word 'save'. Though what could he have possibly meant?"
Interesting, "Though there is a chance you're overthinking that—it could just be your imagination." If Wilder was going to be a sacrifice, he better damn well stay that way and not encourage Yggdrasill to find more effective ways to break a person's spirit.
"Perhaps. But Yuan," Kratos locked eyes with him and Yuan wondered just how much the Sylvaranti Chosen's Journey had changed him, "that wasn't Mithos, no matter how misguided he is, he shouldn't know how to break a person so very thoroughly."
"You haven't seen him in nearly a year, but that was indeed Yggdrasill."
"Zelos was broken through words, not actions, that much is apparent. Mithos could never do that, his motives are pure, even if his methods are not."
"Have you so easily forgotten, my friend? Absolute power corrupts absolutely."
— — — — — — —
"I suppose I understand, the data could not be transferred, so it had to be transcribed by one of the ones who discovered it. Unfortunately, handwriting is not one of the things that are improved upon the angel transformation. I suppose I'll have to read it out to you as you would have difficulty deciphering the words."
A tiny part of Zelos told him to stop this man from continuing, desperately crying out for him to damn the consequences—attack the man if he must—just do not let him speak! But it went unheard as Zelos was too far trapped in his past, his present, and his future without her.
The words wrapped around Zelos as they were voiced, swirling about him like snowflakes in the wind and binding him better than any chain; they told of things too cruel for all but the most twisted of minds to conceive, they narrated in explicit detail of violently ripping everything from a group of innocents in every way, they spoke of horrors and spoke of them with relish.
The entirety of the far too many sheets of paper had been read, the Southeast Abbey hadn't been the only place ruined, ravaged, and pillaged; but special note had been taken of it; and it had been saved for last.
The Desians had known about Seles's Exsphere and she hadn't been the only one with one; but hers, like all the others, hadn't been removed. They hadn't let her. They hadn't let any of them; for that was mercy and non-half-elves were deemed unworthy of such luxuries. She was quarter-elf, but she was human enough.
Seles Wilder was fifteen years old upon her death.
His face was lifted up so their eyes met. "I'm sure Seles would have been a very beautiful young woman."
The blizzard consumed Zelos and Lord Mithos smiled as he watched Zelos's soul shatter.
— — — — — — —
It happened a good while afterwards.
Yggdrasill had been careless, later he would be slightly unnerved at how inattentive he'd been, but right now he only felt anger that this had been allowed to happen.
Because of the collar, he hadn't noticed, though he should have seen the other signs as well; but he'd written it off as attributes of a broken spirit.
Zelos had removed his Key Crest, effectively committing prolonged, but ultimately successful suicide.
Yggdrasill thought he had broken Zelos; with his reason for living gone, his will to survive was lost as well.
But in the beginning—for the Crest would have to have been removed early on—Zelos's free will had still been there, and his spirit had been merely fissured; he would live and die on his own terms.
Zelos had lost his pride, his dignity, and his purpose for living; but nothing could truly make Zelos's soul shatter.
Again, please remember that Kratos's mentality and composure are not at their best considering he'd just returned from the Tower of Salvation, no doubt in extreme emotional turmoil, then had to write down every detail of his journey, thus reliving the whole experience of the ups, downs, and bonding moments of the Journey of Restoration while still in aforementioned extreme emotional turmoil.
Yuan also came out more heartless than I had intended.
I hope everyone liked it.