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Just wanted to say, thanks in advance for reading! The first chapter might be a bit slow, but if you can stick with me I think you will enjoy it =)

Disclaimer: I do not own tales in any way, shape, or form. And this story isn't perfect, I know this. I will probably come back and revise it someday, but I would really appreciate any input you have on the story. I like to hear what you think =)

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Chapter 1

As he prepared to descend unto Sylvarant, the dying world, Kratos Aurion spared a glance into his mirror. He couldn't help but sigh- changing the world was a daunting task even at this stage of progress, and it could be quite tiresome at times. When Mithos had said he wanted to fulfill his sister's final wish, Kratos certainly wasn't expecting it to take over four thousand years… and yet, he knew that the Desians were doing quite well in the tasks they had been given. He couldn't really muster up a complaint worth keeping. And if Sylvarant kept up with its chain of failures, perhaps the number of expheres needed would be less…

He looked into his reflection, scrutinizing his deep red hair and laughing at how little he had changed, these past millennia. It was the same face, the same haircut, the same goals, the same friends; he could hardly remember back to the time he stopped aging- a child, with not even three decades behind him. Had he ever been any different than this person he was now? He couldn't remember, and he had decided three thousand years ago that it didn't really matter. Kratos sighed again and left his quarters, starting down the winding corridors leading to a warp pad which would take him to the Tower of Salvation. It seemed a hassle to walk, but he was in no hurry.

He didn't particularly like inspecting the ranches, but he didn't particularly hate it either. He knew it was simple work, but it had to be done. And he had already fought over this with Yuan- he had made it clear that he wasn't going to budge on it. Somebody had to do the job, though- and it certainly wasn't going to be Mithos himself. They always dumped the mundane chores on the human, Kratos had figured long ago. Though he was long used to it by now, he sighed heavily as he approached the warp field.

Once on Sylvarant, Kratos unleashed his wings. It took less energy and time than the inferior practice of walking, and he wasn't going to stay down below with the humans and half-elves longer than was absolutely necessary. Not that he had any particular grievance with them, but he had always made a point of avoiding contact wherever possible- it was too much explaining and chitchat, not worth the irritation. He made sure to fly above the clouds, where he wouldn't be seen as easily- though it was always colder up there, it would reduce the stares and questions. He knew his own routine by heart- every hundred years or so he would have to do it again…

After a few hours, he began descending toward the Iselia ranch, where Forcystus was already waiting for him.

"Welcome, Lord Kratos. It has been a while since you last paid a visit. We have greatly improved productivity in the last century…"

With a curt nod, Kratos followed him inside. The whir of outdated magitechnology droned loudly, and were he merely human it might have given him a headache. After three hours of blathering about recent improvements and a thorough tour of the ranch, the inspection was complete, and he left. Kratos mulled over the production speed of expheres as he flew to the Palmacosta ranch for his next inspection. On the way, he started thinking to himself again, which he did quite often when he had nothing else to keep him company- he calculated that it would be another ten thousand years before the Desians had produced enough expheres, and then vaguely wondered if giving them better technology was really as dangerous as Mithos believed. He stopped himself in midair, appalled at that thought. Was this true annoyance? Impatience? After four thousand years, was it really possible to still feel those things? He tried to shake the unsettling feeling, but it was very persistent.

Soon enough he landed at the ranch, and two Desian minions escorted him inside. Magnius was noticeably less hospitable than Forcystus. He offered no pleasantries, no stalling conversations or smalltalk, and he really had nothing new to report. He gave himself a complete tour- nothing had changed since the last inspection, not even the personnel that he could tell- and took off once more.

Kratos touched down outside of the Asgaard ranch as the sun was setting, but as his shadow lengthened and the bright colors in the sky started to bleed away, he walked inside unaffected as always. He tried to remember what it was that made humans attracted to sunsets- they came with such regularity and in such consistent colors that there was practically nothing interesting about them- they were to be expected, and nothing more. He discarded his thoughts when Kvar met with him in the entrance hall, slit-eyed as always.

"Lord Kratos, I am glad to see you are well. Allow me to show you the ranch, once more…"

"Actually, I have had a full day of inspections so far; I would prefer to leave that for tomorrow. I assume you have no objections?"

"Of course that will be fine. I will have a room prepared for your stay."

Kratos nodded, and stood to the side as Kvar spoke to one of his underlings in a hushed tone. He must not have realized that the angel of Cruxis could hear every word.

"Move A012 to a holding cell for tonight. We need the guest room for Lord Kratos. Be sure she's gone in the next five minutes, or I'll be very… angry."

The Desian straightened up and began shivering slightly at the look he must have received from his superior, and Kratos was glad Kvar's back was to him. Not that he would have been intimidated by this man, but the guy was ugly enough without a grimace on his face. He turned back around smiling horribly at Kratos, who felt disgusted but didn't let it show on his face.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I've sent for one of my staff to escort you to your room, and accommodate you this evening."

Kratos had to resist the urge to laugh at this ridiculous man, and his two-faced nature. He could use such civilized words, while thinking and acting with such violence that it would make just about any other person die of shame. His half-elven blood had lasted him nearly eight hundred years, and he was still going strong- Kratos had always felt that his need for control was the motive behind his great accomplishments as a Grand Cardinal. He had no misgivings about raiding entire villages, and reveled in the thrill of conquering outlying human settlements. Even those towns which tried to surrender to the Desians were not spared by this man- he took pleasure in slaughtering the weak, as if he were exterminating an ant hill when he took out a living breathing community. Kratos didn't like thinking about the Desians when he didn't have to, it only made the price of world peace more difficult to pay.

But he had to admit that the Desian leaders were all very suited to their jobs. With great cunning such as the Grand Cardinals possessed came greed, and Kratos felt that he could no longer understand these traits, nor act in place of feeling them. He knew that in Kvar's place, he would not be half as effective, and was glad that someone else could hold the difficult implementation work. The Desian escort arrived, and started leading him down one corridor, up a flight of stairs, and down another long hallway. Kratos was still curious about what "A012" might be, but decided not to let on that he had overheard- he would use the knowledge once he could work it out to his advantage, most likely during the tour which he planned to take in the morning.

Klaxons suddenly started sounding an alert, and red lights flashed along the corridor. The Desian stopped abruptly to look around, and started mumbling into his earpiece. Kratos mentally cringed at the volume, as it was quite painful to his sensitive hearing, and shiftily looked for a switch to make it stop.

"What is the meaning of this?" He yelled, unable to hear himself.

"A human must be trying to escape, sir."

Kratos grunted loudly, out of annoyance. He stalked past the Desian, who snapped out of his daze and trailed stupidly behind.

"Where's the control room?" Kratos shouted over his shoulder.

"To the left, sir. Why are you going there?" The soldier tried to be as polite as he could despite his raised voice. Kratos also detected a hint of panic that he couldn't quite place. Why would these guys set off a klaxon for a human, when they deemed them so inferior? So worthless? It hardly made sense… and for Kvar to have such a policy which caused disarray over such a menial situation was not like the man at all.

As he rounded the corner, Kratos felt something run into him, and heard it collapse on the floor. He looked down, and saw what looked like a pile of rags, until a wild pair of eyes stared up at him. Then he noticed it was a woman, wearing rags. He was vaguely aware that she had long brown hair, and very pale skin, but for some reason he couldn't look away from her eyes- they were a glistening brown, intense and desperate, fearful but strong- his mind was empty in the second which they spent staring at each other. Then, she looked away and he came to his senses. The klaxons were still wailing, and the reddish hue from the alarm lights made her look even more out of place. Kratos could tell immediately that this was the escaped human, but he couldn't be sure exactly why she had caused such a fuss. He noted the unusual hue of an exphere attached to her hand, but in a matter of seconds she had collected herself and was back on her feet, sprinting down the hall.

Kratos stared at her as she went, barefoot with the loose cloth she wore blowing behind her. He fought back a smile, seeing her strength. It ought to put Kvar in a frightening irritation, to see his elven-blooded minions inadequate in restraining one human female. This feeling of smugness lasted only an instant, however, because Kratos realized that she was defying world peace. In standing up to the Desians, she was running away from her responsibility to the rest of her world. Both worlds, actually. Tehe'alla was depending on expheres for its salvation as well. Kratos realized that perhaps he disliked Kvar more than he wanted world peace, and would have chuckled to himself, were he not still suffering from the auditory abuse of the klaxons.

"Just take me to my room." He said to the Desian.

"Yes, sir."