Before Colette lost the comfort of sleep, nights terrified her. There was something about that unknown dark shroud she could not stand, something that drove her under the warm quilt covers of her bed, trying to block out the black emptiness of her room. When Colette was six, she would beg her grandmother to leave the light on, to stay in the room with her.

"Don't be silly, dear," her grandmother would always whisper gently to her, tucking her in and patting her forehead endearingly.

Colette would cry. She didn't throw a fit; the Chosen learned early on how any tantrum drew unwelcome stares and stern, uncomfortable talks from her dad and grandmother. Colette's grandmother would sigh and shake her head and leave, closing the bedroom door and extinguishing the lamp.

Her cries would quiet down to silent sobs, and Colette would stay awake shivering underneath the blankets, listening for noises, some sign that her grandmother was still in the house and wasn't swallowed by the quiet night. And after a while, Colette's eyes would droop against her will and the room would swirl with heavy drowsiness until at last she fell asleep.

Back then, Colette wished she could stay up all night. Now, Colette stared into the raging flames of the campfire every night, listening to the deep, evened breaths of her teammates and jealously wishing she could fall asleep too.

Jealousy, Colette soon found, was an emotion that frequently dwelled within her heart. She envied the carefree shouts of the children in Luin playing hide-and-seek. When she watched Professor Sage take care of Genis's scabbed knees, scolding and mothering him before giving him a sharp thwack over the head, Colette felt a stab of longing and the sad knowledge of knowing she wouldn't be able to feel a mother's hands tending to her wounds. She no longer felt the pain of scabbed knees or a caring sister's reprimand.

Instead, Colette felt her wishes burn inside her as she stared hungrily at Lloyd recoiling from a lightning bolt shot by a laughing Genis, at Sheena shivering from the cold seaside breezes in Palmacosta, at Raine praising the smooth texture of stone at Asgard. How desperately she wanted to feel, to cry, to be human. The jealous rage consumed her for many sleepless nights before it died, consuming itself.

The group had stopped to rest at a House of Salvation to seek shelter from a storm. No one had predicted it, and Lloyd spent the evening grumbling about his muddy shoes before Raine delivered a solid smack to his head. Sheena stared warily at the angry professor and Kratos pursed his lips, stuck between amusement and annoyance. Feeling unwanted, Colette wandered out of their room and toward the altar praising Martel.

"Good evening, Chosen," a priest called out, bowing his head. Colette smiled back, giving a little bow in return and almost tripping over a loose floorboard.

"The priests here heard the Chosen was on her way to the Tower," the priest continued. His old, frail body quivered with excitement. "I'm so glad to finally meet you in person. Sylvarant is so fortunate to have such a diligent, kind-hearted Chosen. May Martel be with you throughout the rest of your journey!"

Colette stood at the altar long after the priest had left for bed, his words burning a hole in her heart. Any feeling of jealousy was replaced by a terrible bitterness, and the Chosen stared emptily at the altar, hating herself for being such a failure at what she was born to become. Angels were not supposed to envy the people they were supposed to save.

The self-loathing increased steadily. Colette hated deceiving her friends, hated how happy Lloyd was and knowing how devastated he would be. But it was his happiness that drove her forward; it was Lloyd who motivated her to continue this journey, and it was Lloyd who gave her the courage to accept the burden the people of Sylvarant placed on her slim shoulders.

It was Lloyd whom Colette would freely sacrifice her humanity for. During her long, sleepless nighttimes, the Chosen would brood on how selfish this was. She would stare at Lloyd's still form and think amusedly, sometimes cynically, how much she wouldn't mind sacrificing for Lloyd. After each night, Colette would always come to the same conclusion: humans were selfish. And even the Chosen should be entitled to feel human, even when she was on the brink of losing it and everything else.

Colette clung to that selfish reminder that she was still human each night after that. It kept her from collapsing until she reached Hima and stared at the looming tower that promised salvation and her death. She sat on that cliff until Lloyd came, with her arms around her knees, reminding herself of when she was six and afraid of the dark. Now she was sixteen and almost an angel and still afraid of the dark emptiness inside of her, eager to consume the remaining shreds of her humanity.

Lloyd wrapped his arms around her on that cliff, holding her in an embrace she could barely feel. Colette desperately tried to remember every last moment, his brown windswept hair, how he pressed his lips against her golden locks and whispered, "We're almost there. Colette, you're going to regenerate the world."

The Chosen smiled her broken smile and closed her eyes, wishing she could cry.

OoOoOoOo

I had a sudden whim to replay ToS twice, and this is the end result. I hope my muses are satisfied.
Colette became my favorite character after I realized there was more to her than a clumsy, selfless Chosen. Constructive criticism would be love :) I hope Colette's not too out-of-character.