Disclaimer: I still don't own Tales. My evil plan is taking longer than I expected...unforseen complications...I really must fix the errors in my planning, then I will own it! Mwhahahaha!

Er. Yeah, I know my father/son fics tend to be short, sorry bout that....

The sound of a group of travelers, a group of friends, is foreign to me. I am quickly irritated by the loudness of the children, the incessant babbling of the teacher, the apologies of the Chosen. I almost wish Lord Yggdrassill had assigned me to another mission and sent Yuan here. Although, then the Chosen would be dead by now.

And possibly my – possibly Lloyd as well. Not my son, not my son, not my son. I chant in my mind. For what are the chances? My son and my wife died. They are gone. Aren't they? Did I really check? All I remember is the pain of murdering the one woman who mattered to me, the pain of seeing my son's tears, the blood on my hands…

Stop thinking now. Join in the conversation.

"Lloyd. Would you like to improve your swordsmanship?" I ask. Stupid! I shouldn't have spoken to Lloyd.

"Um…yeah, I guess. Hey, wait, are you saying I'm a bad swordsman?" he asks, his face angry and hurt.

"I was saying that you could improve. If you wish to protect the Chosen–"

"Then I have to get better, yeah, yeah, you've said that a million times before, oh Great Master of All Weapons!" he shouts angrily. Raine looks at me suspiciously – for a teacher she's extraordinarily paranoid, even adding in the fact that she is a half-elf pretending to be an elf.

"Lloyd, I was not attempting to imply that you are a bad fighter, merely that I have much more experience in that particular area." I sigh. He looks ashamed.

"…Oh. Oops. Okay, then, why ask?"

"I was wondering if you wished to train with me."

"Yeah!" Why did I say that? I do not wish to spend more time than I must with this boy...

"…Alright. We will begin tomorrow night." I say, resigned now to my fate. Of course, I would offer to give lessons to the boy who should hate me the most, for I know now. He must be my son. Why bother denying it? The name of his mother, his own name, the protozoan he oh-so-ignorantly calls dog…the signs are all there.

"Kratos." Raine says once Lloyd's attention is focused again on his food.

"Yes, Raine?" I ask, anticipating nothing more or less than a threat or warning, possibly followed by a long lecture. The thought is not entirely unwelcome; anything to distract me from my misery.

"If you lay so much as one finger on him…"

"Of course. I would never do such a thing, though I understand your concern."

"Of course you do." she says snidely. I suppress a sigh. This is going to be a long journey.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Concentrate!" I shout, exasperated. After nearly two hours of training, I have discovered what a truly pathetic swordsman Lloyd is.

"I'm trying, okay?" he retorts.

"No, you're not! You must not lose focus in the midst of a battle! You will die if you do so!" I say, grinding my teeth together.

"I do not lose concentration, I decide on attacks!"

"You cannot do so, if you pause to think in a battle, you will be killed without a doubt! The attacks must come quicker!"

"I'm doing the best I can!"

"Then it is not good enough!"

"Look, I haven't had years to practice! I fight on my way to the village and back, and you are a traveling mercenary, and it's not my fault that I'm not as good as you!" he shouts.

"That does not mean you cannot improve quickly! You must work harder if you wish to continue with the Chosen!"

"Her name is Colette!" he says, glaring. I do not reply right away. I am shocked at his vehemence.

"Why does it matter to you whether I call her by her name?" I finally ask, incredulous. Is this boy in love? He is acting like I acted about Anna…

"It—it—it just does, okay? You've been traveling with us for long enough that you shouldn't act like you don't even know us!"

"I do not know you. I am a mercenary. I am merely protecting the Chosen." I say, but the bitterness in my voice is obvious even to me. Good job. Now he'll think something is wrong.

"But this is a long job, it's not like you're leaving tomorrow!" His voice has not changed. He did not notice. This boy who wishes to be a man, how long will this ignorance and naivete last?

"Lloyd. You are doing well for being so inexperienced. We will practice again tomorrow if possible. Be ready." I say, my voice colorless. He glares.

"No. No, we won't. I'm done, you don't even fight with twin swords, what can you teach me? Anyway, I don't want to learn from a mercenary." he says, and walks away, towards the campfire. I stand in the little clearing alone. The pain from his words is intense. It is not often I allow myself to feel pain anymore rather than blocking it, pretending it isn't there. I deserve it this time, though. I have hurt him without meaning to. I am sure he hates me; I have given him more than enough reason to.

I feel something slide down my cheek. I glance up. Sure enough, it is raining. What else could be on my face than a raindrop? I can no longer cry. The sky gives me my tears, the tears for my loss, tears for my sadness, tears for my pain, tears for my son. Tears for the loss my son will suffer, for the pain I will inflict upon him. Tears for myself and for this son of mine.

So cry for me, cry the tears that are stuck in me, unable to fall. Cry for me.