Siren: So, how about this came to me in a dream and I needed it out of my head. Messin' with the plot. Yeah.

Muse: It's different from what we really write...usually we don't have a plot. Ever.

Siren: What is this 'plot' you speak of?

Muse: Disclaimer!

(poof) Missing Plot: I'm here! I'm here! Sirens & Muses don't own ToS!

Siren: It's a monster! Gah! (beats with Pepsi can) Review, please!

It was sheer dumb luck that Luke saw him. He was in Palmacosta at the time, working on the Isabella, the city's prized steamship and probably the most advanced piece of technology in Sylvarant. The captain had paid him pretty well: ten thousand gald. He was leaning against a building, tapping his fingers against the brick wall.

Luke didn't see him first. Actually, what caught his attention was when he looked up from the ground, he saw a teenage girl staring at him. Well, not at him actually. His arm. It was a warm day, so Luke had found no harm in wearing a sleeveless undershirt. Apparantly, some of the townspeople did. He'd been getting stares and whispers all day. People would keep a few feet between themselves and him, skirting their children away from him. None of this was unusual.

She was staring at it, her blue eyes round as she blinked incredulously. He cracked a small smile and waved at her. She gasped and blushed before giggling and waving back.

"Hey, Colette, come on!" They both looked up to see a boy in red waving her over. She smiled and waved to Luke.

"Goodbye!" She ran off, up towards her friend, who was now joined by a pair of half-elves. Luke was about to say goodbye back, but the words caught in his throat when he saw the next person come into view.

Kratos Aurion.

The man stiffened when he saw Luke. His eyes went wide and he immediately stared at his boots. Luke swallowed and rushed through the first door he saw, into a building he'd entered only handful of times in his life: a church of Martel.

The church patrons in the back glanced up-he'd apparently interrupted some kind of sermon-and motioned for him to take a seat in the pews. He hurriedly sat in the last pew, on the very edge, and bowed his head. When it came time to recite the prayers, he whispered different words, ones his mother had taught him so long ago, that he still remembered to this day because he said them every evening.

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name," he began.

What is he doing here?

"Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done…"

Okay, dumb question. What do you think he's doing here?

"On earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread." People near him were beginning to give him dirty looks.

Does this mean he went back to Mithos?

"And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."

So, does that mean that girl was the Chosen of Sylvarant?

"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

And the people who were with him…who were they?

"For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory," he said, his voice rising above the murmurs of the rest of the congregation.

He's not going to kill them, too.

"For ever and ever."

Is he?

"Amen." Luke raised his head to see that the entire church had stopped their prayer to stare at him. His last words echoed back at him in the silent building, resonating a sort of emptiness. He had to get out of there, he had to ask Kratos the questions ping-ponging around in his head. Not that he expected Kratos to answer, but still...

Silently, he stood and walked out of the church, ignoring the blatantly hateful stares he was getting.

Outside, he leaned against the wall again, this time to scope out Kratos. If he was in Palmacosta, he probably had a hotel room. He entered the inn and spoke gently to the young woman behind the desk.

"Excuse me," he said politely. "I'm looking for someone."

She stared, mouth open, at his left arm. He sighed and repeated himself.

"What? Oh!" She flushed a shade of red and said quietly, "I'm sorry. Ca-can I help you?"

"Did you happen to see a red-headed man? He's wearing purple, and is travelling with a blonde girl, a young man in red, and-"

"Luke." He spun around and came face to face with Kratos.

"Never mind, I found him." Luke looked around. "Where are your buddies?"

Kratos sighed. "They're out exploring the town. I told them I'd reserve our hotel rooms."

Luke waited impatiently while the mercenary paid of his room. Finally, Kratos motioned for him to follow. The second they were in the room, Kratos shut and locked the door. "I don't want to have to explain why I have a man who looks like he's ten years my junior in my hotel room."

"You do know you're twenty-two years older than me, right?" Luke said, flopping on one of the beds. Kratos ignored him.

"Why are you here, Luke?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, well, since you asked, I've been travelling the world tricking and kidnapping little blonde girls so I can sacrifice them for a dead woman. I hope I didn't step on your toes." He flashed a goofy smile.

"Be serious, for once in your life," Kratos said agitatedly.

Luke's smile faded. Kratos had always had a limited sense of humor, but it looked like he wasn't in the mood. "Working on a ship," he said shortly.

"What about Lucy and Dominic?"

"At their home by Meltokio. It's very cozy. If you bothered to visit, you'd know how nice they keep it."

"And your arm?"

He held up his left arm and waved it. "As good as it's going to get. Could use some adjusting, a little bit of TLC, but nothing I can't handle."

Kratos sighed and sat down beside him. "I suppose you're wondering what I'm doing here."

"Nope," Luke said. "I guessed that already. Actually, I'm wondering about the kids you're travelling with. You know, what they'll be doing at the end of the Regeneration Journey."

"You know me, Luke," Kratos said quietly. "I already tried to keep the two boys at their village, but they followed. Nothing bad will happen to them."

"Nothing bad will happen, huh?" he repeated, standing up. He knew exactly how to push his old friend's buttons. "I remember the last time you said that. About fourteen years ago, if my memory serves me correctly."

Kratos stood next to Luke. The cool, calm mask he had on seconds ago was gone now, his face filled with fury and sadness. "Be quiet," he hissed.

The words were out of Luke's mouth before he could stop them. "And look what happened to Anna and Lloyd. I'd say that was pretty bad. You sure you want to stick by that?"

He'd been staring directly into Kratos' eyes, which would explain how he missed the older man's hand clenching into a fist and raising. It struck him squarely in the mouth, knocking a few teeth loose. He fell to the floor, surprised that Kratos would actually hit him. He'd never done that before.

"I deserved that," Luke said, touching his face. He could taste the blood, but was more worried about the glare of pure hatred Kratos was giving him from above.

"Get out," he whispered. "And don't come back."

"Okay." He held up both hands in surrender. "I'm leaving."

The door slammed shut behind him. He left, trying to look inconspicuous, what with his arm and his now bruised face. He was so distracted, he didn't see where he was walking…

Smack!

…directly into a very large, buff man.

Luke recognized him immediately as one of the churchgoers who'd been offended by his prayer. Which was why he had enough sense to duck, dodging the second fist aimed at him in the last five minutes.

However, before he could say or do anything else, another man, this one much shorter, had grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked. He fell to the ground, smashing his head against the stone. He stood, unfazed by the blow, and found himself surrounded by, not only strong men, but spectators cheering them on. One of the men charged at him, trying to knock him down again.

Luke's combat senses kicked in. His knee slammed against his attacker's ribcage. Before he could recover for the next attack, two others grabbed his arms. But his left arm was strong enough to break the grip, and he felt it connect, making a sickening crunch. Suddenly, the noises of the crowd stopped. He felt the hands let go of his right arm.

The man he'd hit was groaning on the ground, blood pouring out of a gash near his eyes. The metal of his fist had sliced his skin, as well as broken his nose. A woman rushed over to him.

"What did you do?!" she screamed at Luke. "Get out of here, you-you monster! You demon!"

He felt a man pull him back and shove him aside. "Go on!" the man yelled, grabbing Luke's collar. "Get out of here! And don't come back!"

Luke ran. The last thing he wanted was for an angry mob of churchgoers catching up to him. It occurred to him that, in the timespan of about thirty minutes, he'd been beaten up and kicked out, twice.

When he was sure he was a safe distance from Palmacosta, Luke stopped to catch his breath and pull out his Wing Pack. He took out the Reheird inside, hopped on it, and headed home. It had been a long day.