Chapter 1: On Derris-Kharlan

The sky was constantly dark and dotted with unfamiliar stars. Even knowing that he was, in fact, traveling on a comet, it was difficult to grasp the concept. The only habitable places were the gigantic structures erected that served as both a city and residential area. The denizens were as lackluster as ever—he had realized it before, but now it became far more apparent after spending time on Earth. He wondered how he had tolerated it before. But then, he had been a different person.

They all served Mithos, the boy who never grew into a man. Even without his presence, they continued their daily lives as if he were there. No one had bothered to tell them. They were all angels and they all brandished their Cruxis Crystals—Kratos had his work cut out for him.

Kratos decided to make Mithos' castle his home on Derris-Kharlan. The castle was far too large and grand for one person. There were rooms upon rooms which had not been used in centuries; useless bedrooms, dens, kitchens, and bathrooms that were there purely for aesthetic reasons. The entire building could have easily housed several Sylvaranti towns, he thought to himself.

He knew what his first order of business would be as he climbed the multitude of spiraling stairs past far too many rooms. There was a larger room somewhere midway to the very top of the castle, he was sure he wouldn't miss it. Even before he reached it, however, a frantic angel came floating carelessly down the narrow stairway towards him. Kratos vaguely recognized him. His name was on the tip of his tongue. He might just be the one who he was looking for.

"Sir, am I glad to find you," said the half-elven angel when he was close enough. He wore a relieved expression on his face.

"You're the Housekeeper?" Kratos asked the familiar looking man.

The man still levitated a few inches above the ground. His wings were a pure white and could potentially stretch the width of the narrow stairway. He wore a navy blue vest decorated with intricate golden lines and beneath was a white long sleeved dress shirt with rounded bishop sleeves along with an appropriate pair of dress pants. His bright scarlet pupils were his most striking physical trait and were probably what Kratos remembered the most about him. He kept his lavender blue hair slicked back and tied into a tight ponytail starting at the nape and ending midway down his back

"Yes, sir," he said with a nod.

"Is there some issue?" Kratos asked noticing his panicked air from before.

"Well, sir, you see, I report directly Lord Yggdrasill and he has been missing for some time now. He usually gives me warning before doing such things. Being a close friend of his, I'm sure you know where he is."

Kratos looked at the other thoughtfully. "Do you have someplace private where we can speak?"

"Yes, sir, of course," the housekeeper said immediately, "Follow me."

The housekeeper made his way past Kratos and continued back down the stairs where Kratos had come from. With a sigh, the swordsman followed the other into the very next room they came upon. It was a den with book-filled shelves lining the walls. Kratos didn't have the presence of mind to offer the other a seat so they both stood even as there were couches to sit on.

"Something terrible has happened, hasn't it?" the housekeeper asked the other anxiously.

"Perceptive for a Cruxis angel," Kratos said back.

The other finally ceased his levitation and allowed himself to stand. "You flatter me, sir. It was merely a logical guess."

"Hm," Kratos said closing his eyes. "Yggdrasill Mithos will no longer be returning here. He passed away a few weeks ago."

His eyes grew wide with surprise. "Truly, sir? How could someone so powerful, die?"

"The details are irrelevant," Kratos answered.

"Well," the housekeeper began clasping his hands behind his back, "Then you must be here to take his place."

"How long have you worked for Mithos?"

"Three-thousand seven-hundred and sixty-five days to be exact."

"That is quite a long time. Yet your response to his death seems…muted."

"I don't know him very well if that's what you mean. I simply was in charge of keeping the castle in order. Our relationship was strictly business. If one of the Four Seraphims tells me that he is dead, then it is the truth and there is nothing more I can do. With this news, however, I am made even further glad that you are here."

"Then will you now take orders from me?"

"Yes, of course, sir."

"Will you pledge your loyalty to me?"

He nodded once again and then bent down upon one knee. "I, Raphael Tenion, pledge my allegiance to you and only you."

Kratos had to stop himself from grinning. That was almost too easy. At the very least, he had someone on his side, someone who knew the layout of the entire castle. He wouldn't be forced to traverse about the entire place trying to figure out who worked there.

"Good, Raphael, you may stand up."

The housekeeper did so obediently.

"Now, are there others who work here besides your subordinates?"

"Well, sir, there is General Jasper who is in charge of all the guards around here. Recently, he's had to increase their presence."

"Bring this General to Mithos' room as soon as you can. We shall all have a meeting."

"Yes, sir," Raphael responded.

Kratos watched the other leave the room in hurried earnestness. He must have sensed the urgency of the situation even if Kratos hadn't told him as much. An attentive housekeeper meant less work for him so he simply counted his blessings. He waited a moment before leaving the room himself. He wasn't completely certain he knew where Mithos' room was, but he at least knew the general area. It had to be on the top floor. With another sigh, he started to jog up the seemingly endless spiral stairs.

As soon as he stepped through the door to the top-most hallway, he ran into a guard. He was fully outfitted in standard angelic armor. The sturdy looking white-haired man at first came towards him levitating through the air like everyone else, but soon stopped when he recognized who he was and simply went back to his patrol. Kratos thought about speaking with the guard only to decide against it; it was unnecessary. He and the rest of the angels who worked in the castle would soon know of his intentions.

Embarrassingly enough, he was forced to look into one room after the other in order to determine which one was Mithos'. He rightly assumed the one that looked the most lived in was his. Mithos would not have used the room to rest in as angels did not sleep, but perhaps he had desired some private place for himself.

The bed was neatly made. A black cotton top sheet decorated in strange curvy white lines could be seen atop layers of other soft, smooth sheets he assumed. Untouched, puffy looking pillows sat at the head of the bed positioned in a diagonal pattern—they were decorated with three stripes of alternating black and white. The black bed skirt hanging on the bottom hid the box spring beneath. A simple dresser sat beside the tall bed and on it an oval lamp. Kratos found that he could not stare at the lamp for too long—it was so bright that it lit the entire room sufficiently. The walls were painted a light purple. An elaborate vanity table sat against the wall in front of the bed and on it sat a bowl of shiny green rocks, a brush and a comb was placed together a little ways from it. Beside that were other hair paraphernalia all placed neatly in a lime green cube organizer. A dark wooden wardrobe sat in the corner with glass knobs. Kratos dared not look inside. Mithos' sense of fashion had always differed from his.

Out of curiosity, he began to look through the drawers in the dresser that was beside the bed. There were odds and ends things like small bouncy balls, fingernail clippers, hairpins, and more shiny rocks. Uninterested, he simply closed it and moved on to the next one which contained underwear. Immediately closing this one, he checked the last one and the only thing it contained was a bag, a folded, royal purple bag with red drawstrings. This, Kratos took out.

"Well, could be useful," Kratos said to himself.

Unfolding the soft bag, he realized that it was quite large. He wondered why Mithos would have such a random thing in a drawer, but it didn't matter. Kratos pulled open the top and found the sack completely empty. It was then that there was a soft knock on the door. Assuming it was Raphael, Kratos called for the other to come in. The door opened and along with Raphael was who Kratos assumed was General Jasper entered.

The general had very prominent, sharp ears, but it suited his angular face. His eyes were a deep, dark red akin to the color of blood and his features were so sharp that one might cut themselves on it. His hair was mostly violet though with strands of gray on his sides. He wore his hair in a ponytail as well, but it sat higher than Raphael's and it was tied with braided strands of his own hair and hung just above his nape. His wings were a translucent fuchsia color and it seemed he did not make it a habit to levitate everywhere he went.

"General Jasper?" Kratos asked.

The man nodded affirmatively. "I am him."

His voice wasn't nearly as pleasant as Raphael's, but then that was expected from someone who was in charge of the guards. He didn't appear annoyed, however, his voice seemed to naturally have a certain kind of roughness to it—a bit like his own. His arms were crossed and he wore a rapier at his side.

"Has Raphael told you of Mithos' demise?"

"No, sir," Jasper replied.

"Well, then it is best you are told. Mithos has passed away."

"I see," Jasper said loosening his stance if only a little. "And you're going to take his place."

"I suppose I am, but first I need you to pledge your allegiance to me."

Jasper looked at the other for a moment longer than usual, but then bent down on one knee. "I, Jasper Bloodstone, pledge my allegiance to you and only you."

"Good, Jasper, you may stand up."

Kratos watched the other carefully, but he seemed not to harbor any grievances towards him. Now he looked at both of them directly. Now was the moment of truth if in fact they were loyal to him.

"My first order of business is to remove all traces of Cruxis Crystals from the entirety of Derris-Kharlan." Neither Raphael nor Jasper reacted to this statement—it was as if they didn't quite understand. "And I shall start with you two. Remove your crystals and place them into this bag." He held it open now in front of them.

At first they did not respond at all and Kratos feared he would have to repeat himself. An excruciating second passed and Jasper held out his hand and plucked it easily from the back of it. Silently, he walked forth and placed it into the bag. The first sign of protest came from Raphael who realized after Jasper had done so that Kratos was being serious and that he had heard it right the first time.

"But, sir—

Jasper cut across Raphael's protest, "We do not question our lord's commands."

"Yes, I know," Raphael said immediately defeated. He wanted to say something more, but Jasper had turned to him and his gaze seemed to scare him into submission.

Raphael finally copied Jasper's motions and placed the shiny round object into the large, purple felt bag. When he was done, Kratos did the same. Then he closed the bag tightly. There was hardly any weight to it, but soon it would grow heavy with all the crystals of the angels. This was just the beginning.

Kratos looked at the two before him evenly. Raphael looked almost distraught, Jasper remained neutral. "Do you understand the ramifications of removing your crystal? You will begin to age normally, you will grow weaker, and you will require sustenance like a normal breathing living thing."

"With all due respect, Kratos—" began Jasper, but he was interrupted by Raphael.

"That's Lord Kratos," he reminded the other.

Jasper sucked his teeth. "With all due respect, Lord Kratos, I am more concerned about you. You are human, are you not? A human lives precious few years."

"You need not worry about me," Kratos said. "What I plan to do won't take long and when I am done, I think I can die in peace."

"I see. Then I will tell my men to relinquish their crystals as well."

"Good," said Kratos, "And do you foresee any trouble doing this?"

Jasper only grinned. "They're all quite dull, the lot of them. I'll tell them some story that will require them to remove their crystals so as not to raise suspicion. It won't be difficult."

"And you, Raphael?"

The housekeeper didn't look half as confident. "I'll…try my best, my lord."

"Kratos," Jasper began.

"That's Lord

Kratos sighed exasperatedly, "Kratos is fine," he said immediately before Raphael could finish.

"This land is full of angels with dulled senses from years and years of doing the same mundane activities. From those people, it would be easy to relieve them of their crystals, but there are others like us who have retained some level of guile and of those people there will be those who side with Mithos' ideals. They will be the ones who will cause you the most the trouble. Immortality is not a thing someone would want to give up willingly."

"And yet the both of you did so with relative ease," Kratos reminded the other.

"Ah, yes," Jasper said, "Let us hope there are others who do not wish to live forever."

"Jasper," Raphael exclaimed in a shocked manner, "How can you say such things so easily?"

"Because Mithos is dead," Jasper said turning, "And I no longer have to look forward to guarding this useless castle for all eternity. May I excuse myself, Kratos?"

"Yes," Kratos said simply, impressed by the man's honesty. "Both of you report back to me by the end of this week. I expect to hear good things."

"Y-yes, sir," Raphael said. Raphael soon followed Jasper out of the room, but he turned back to look at Kratos before he closed the door. "Will you be taking this room as your own?"

"Actually, I would like a different room," Kratos replied with a slight frown.

"Then follow me. I'll set you up elsewhere."

There was a room beside that of Mithos' and Raphael quickly had chamber maids dress up the bed and puff up the pillows. It took all of ten minutes to do and Raphael quickly and quietly left Kratos to himself. Raphael was efficient if anything else, Kratos thought to himself as he entered the room. He should have asked the man where the bathrooms were, but he was sure he would find one eventually if he went exploring for a little while. Surely there would be a bathroom on each floor. Then again, the castle wasn't exactly made to be practical. Most things here were for show and had not actually been used. Surely Mithos would have found the merits of a nice, hot shower angel or not.

Kratos hadn't slept in a proper bed for a long while, in fact, he hadn't slept at all. For the last few months he'd been journeying with his son to right his mistakes of the past and then later scheming behind Mithos' back that would end in his death. He thought he'd feel far more despondent over his friend's death, but it had been long overdue. So had his. If anything, he hadn't been upset over his death—he'd been more upset over the fact that now it could never be as it was. They'd set out on a journey so many years ago—Mithos' death starkly reminded him that those days were done.

He had made taking off his crystal seem like a simple thing, but Kratos immediately felt the difference as soon as its presence was gone. Had he been a weaker man, he might have stumbled back in surprise. The world around him became dimmer. He could not see, feel, or hear as well as before. His strength felt laughable. But more than that, he had felt tired—immensely tired as if he'd been awake for too long. He hoped he had successfully hidden these discomforts from the other two—he knew such effects would not have been as extensive on the half-elves. He bet they would fare far better than he.

He was glad when he finally came upon a bathroom on the same floor. Immediately, he checked for running water. To his fascination, the faucet worked just fine. He didn't claim to understand how such a thing could be possible on a comet, but he did not feel like figuring anything out. There were towels, wash cloths, and bathrobes all waiting to finally be used and Kratos did not keep them waiting.

Taking a hot shower still felt just as good even as a normal human. He closed his eyes in a moment of pure bliss as the hot, tingling water fell against his naked, exposed skin. He let out a relaxed sigh.

Eventually, he stepped out of the shower having cleaned himself thoroughly and trudged down the large, empty hallway with only a bathrobe on. For now, it was the only thing left to wear. He became mildly confused as to where his room was again, but eventually found it.

The room was brightly lit and he realized that a lamp similar to the one in Mithos' room sat on the dresser beside the bed. He wondered how he would ever turn it off. He looked for a switch but found none nor was it plugged into the wall or worked with an exsphere attached. Tiring of searching, Kratos finally climbed on top of the tall very comfortable bed where he took one pillow and laid only on that one. Despite the brightness of the room, his vision slowly became blurred as his eyes closed all on their own. He was sure he would fall asleep any moment now, but suddenly the door to his room opened. He had no time to even tell the intruder to go away before four female angels pranced into his room all holding violins. Kratos, for a long moment, was utterly confused as he began to sit up once again with more than a little struggle—he was surprised at just how tired his body felt.

"Oh, we're sorry," one of the brunette angels said, "We would have come sooner had we known you'd be resting so soon."

"What do you mean?" Kratos asked groggily. He probably should have simply asked them to leave, but for some reason his curiosity won out. Why would Mithos keep a group of violinists around and why had they entered so unannounced?

"Mithos always has us play for him at a certain time."

"Yes…" Kratos said wearily, "But why?"

This time a different angel answered him, "He says it relaxes him so that he can rest."

"Angels have no need for rest," Kratos replied.

"But he likes it anyway," she said back.

The third angel nodded, "Mithos would pretend as if he was resting. He was always so—

Another angel shushed her. "We mustn't speak ill of the dead!"

And then they started bickering among themselves. Losing their attention altogether, their voices simply became background noise as Kratos began to drift off once again. He was jolted back to wakefulness with a shout, however, much to his annoyance. The one who had first spoken had called his name out loudly.

"Regardless, we still want to play for you even if you aren't Mithos."

"No, that's alright," Kratos began.

"No, we insist," she said again with more strength. "Once you hear it, I'm sure you'll love it."

"And not kick us out," the fourth brunette said in a smaller voice, but Kratos still heard.

"Fine," Kratos said giving in to the pushy violinists, "Let's hear it."

The first woman who Kratos supposed was the leader looked to the other three and nodded to them and they started instantly without further ado. The rhythm was slow but melodious. The tone was hard to pinpoint—it wasn't happy, but it wasn't depressing either. It was somewhere in between as if a story was being told in the most neutral way possible. Perhaps the story was tragic, but the narrator was desperately trying to get through it without losing themselves. At first he could hear each violin individually but as his mind became less sharp with tiredness, they all blurred together. Kratos eventually lied down again and fell asleep almost instantly, but the gentle strings still filled his mind. They became distorted and echoic. The strange sounds began to make little sense yet they colored his dreams.

The strange, calming strings slowly became the sound of clinking metal chains dragging along a concrete ground. A smaller sound in the distance was the incessant coughing of some unfortunate man. Finally, there was no sound at all. It all fell into silence.