A/N just a short little thing, not particularly special, but here you are anyway!

Disclaimer: Really? I wish!

Rosa. Even her name gave you an idea of just how lovely she was. Her lips were as soft, luxurious and pink as a new rose's petals, her eyes like the finest sapphires which lay upon creamy skin of the softest texture. Her bed of golden hair fell in sun coloured cascades down her back like an untainted sunset. It is not difficult to see why exactly he fell in love with her. It is not difficult to see why she was the object of so many men's lust. It started out fine at first, the three of them (Rosa, Cecil and he) would play together as usual. Until one day, after the conglomeration of minute changes over time finally stood out: Rosa and Cecil seemed closer than ever before, almost inseparable. And so in love. Of course he knew they were the closest of the three - it was almost his premeditated fate to be alone - but even so it was unbearable to his sixteen year old self. Yet as time went by and as the fool he was, he continued to stay with them; stay with the friends that would ultimately become his destruction.

Betrayal. It came when the voices of evil slowly seeped into his mind, wrapping their slithering arms around the seeds of evil and the tendrils of his shattered heart. She had gone after him. She had gone after the one he called his best friend, his childhood companion, and left him alone in her wake. But the evil, it was there for him. It cradled his broken mind and convinced him to join them, he would get her that way; and even though he knew what he was doing was wrong and disgraceful, and he couldn't bring his last thread of consciousness to stop this madness.

Doubt. It settled into all their minds after he re-joined them. It was strange at first, seeing his more familiar blonde haired beauty after being with the other blonde, who he couldn't seem to get out of his mind. Even the feel of her touch clung to his body like nothing he'd ever felt before. First the Fabulian Monk, silent in his doubt yet it rang true in his eyes. The knowing look that plagued the monks eyes every time they grazed over the dark dragoon. Next but more subtly; the green haired summoner who'd mysteriously grown into a fine young woman during the span of six months. She was much more concerned in her doubt; concerned for her beautiful friend's welfare and heart. Finally the brash, childish and somewhat love-struck prince of Eblan came stumbling – almost literally – into their party like the bumbling child he really was. He was very vocal in his doubt, always the first to speak out and accuse everyone minus his dear summoner. But she never did. Even when the holy paladin Cecil began to think against him - when his best friend turned his back, she never once doubted him. Always at his side, always tantalisingly far, the paladin and her had grown infuriatingly close, close enough the sow the seeds of evil, hate and jealously into his almost non-existent heart. He would wait forever for the day when she'd see him as more than a friend, but it never came. He would even die for her, but she would never do the same.

If. Always if. Anything was possible with if. He didn't know when it started, maybe when the silence of the grey moon (why they called it the red moon is something he would never understand) got too much to bear without being forced to look deep into your soul – something everyone else was clearly doing by the almost unbearable silence – he began to wonder 'if'. If she had chosen him instead of the once dark knight, would he be the outcast? If she had come to him first, would she be walking by the paladin's side, their hands infuriatingly intertwined? If he had never met Cecil and merely kept Rosa for himself, would they be here now? Would they be enjoying a married life? With an idyllic house full of happy children with blonde hair and captivating sapphire – amethyst eyes?

Maybe.

But it was not to be, and he when he was more melancholic than he'd ever been, he stole away from the white city of Mysidia, shortly after the stumbling and saddened Green haired little girl he'd saved so long ago had departed in a hurry (probably to get away from that rash prince). Flying into the night, he took refuge on the remote mount ordeals holding to atone for his many sins. And there he stayed, in silent and torturous solitude for many, many years.

In the end, he didn't wait forever for the day when she'd see him as more than a friend, as ten years after taking his solitude, he deserted the lonely mountain as a new man, a holy dragoon, and stumbled upon a large surprise in a far flung town near Troia. A boy of ten years stared up at him from under short, blue, almost silver, tipped blonde hair with exotic amethyst eyes that lay upon unblemished, tan skin, reminiscent of his own. He had an air of mystery and power about him which reminded him of a blonde from so, so long ago, in the life of a long gone Kain. The boy dropped the basket of spear heads he was carrying dutifully with a crash and explosion of metals; strong arms which could only be attained through dragoon training trembling mildly as he looked him at the man before him. He could see the young boy swallow roughly before slowly opening his mouth.

"Dad?"

Fin.

Dun dun dun! That's a nice cliffie for you all I think teehee :p I suppose I could rustle up another chapter explaining everything if you want, but how I will I know if you don't review? ^_~

Thanks your reading! And as always, drop a review if you please.