L – "Kratos, are you coming to bed?" –she yawned and slumped against the door frame–
"Kratos...are you coming to bed?"
He shook his head.
It was the naked concubine on the bed across the room speaking, not her.
C – "Come on! Hahaha you have to do better than that!" –she giggled and ran up the grass hill, diving behind a tree–
"Come on, warrior! You have to do better than that!"
He savagely dug his chaos blade into the eye of the sentry and flung it aside.
It was Alrik, the barbarian king across the field taunting, not her.
L – "Where were you? Have you not realized how long I waited for you?" –she placed her hands on her hip and stared him down at the foot of their house–
"Where WERE you?! Have you not realized how long I waited for you?"
He gripped his blades.
It was his brother torn by rage and decayed hope screaming, not her.
C – "Swear you will. Promise?" – she lifted her face with a big smile, flushed cheeks so young and pure–
"Swear you will...YOU WILL PROMISE TO ME!"
He took a step back in rage.
It was Ares so vile and hot-blood commanding, not her.
L/C – "Until you return...farewell!" – she held the little one in her arms, and the two girls waved widely as his horse turned him toward his men–
"Until I return...farewell."
He lifted a foot against the cliff's edge.
He slumped his body against the pillar rammed in his chest cavity.
He cast his own soul into the depths of the Underworld.
It was him unforgiving and broken, not them.
Isn't it enough that he can't feel with his fingertips – the touch of a woman's hair, the stain of blood, a sharp prick from a thorn, the petal from her favourite flower – because their ashes lace his skin so thickly?
Their voices echo...they replay...they twist...and they replace every warm and tender memory he is trying desperately to cling onto.
They shatter every kingdom he has built.
Not that a Ghost of Sparta had a kingdom to begin with...not without them.
In memory of Lysandra and Calliope.
? – "Oh Kratos...how could you?"
...
I've been wanting to write this for ages. -A