I… got this idea while… doing the dishes:sweatdrop:
Anyway, not much to say here. Just that, unlike all the romance I write, the "love" mentioned so many times in this story is not romantic love, just… love in general. Love for friends, love for family, etc.
And why don't we just call this my Valentine's Day contribution, since it IS about love and all? XD
Disclaimer: Tales of Symphonia and its characters do not belong to me.
Warning: Spoilers! Ficcy takes place after the scene at Altessa's, before the Flanoir doctor event. Is pretty much Mithos-centric.
Dedicated to dear Mithos whom our darlin' RPer "lovingly" call "psycho slimeball". XD
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All Pains Stem from Love
It had not been such a nice night for Kratos. He had been – somehow, and partially by his own will – captured by the Renegades, taken to see his son, who would not acknowledge him, and took a full hit from Yuan's magic – stronger than his own, even – to protect the aforementioned son.
No, it had been a horrible, horrible night, and he was stuck in bed, in "his" room within Mithos's Vinheim castle.
He did not like the place. It was too… bleak, too cheerless. It seemed that it could suck the very hope out of men, and, looking at himself, he supposed it really could.
The door opened a crack and a radiant golden head poked into the room, shimmering in what seemed to be its own light.
Despite all appearances, Kratos was unsure if this change in scenery was for the better.
Mithos Yggdrasill did not need invitation or permission to go anywhere in his own castle. Even if he did, he would not have asked. Especially if he did. As it was now, he merely strolled into Kratos's room and sat down on the side of the bed, his head tilted in a mocking semblance of innocence.
"Lord Yggdrasill," the mercenary asked, unable to keep bitterness out of his voice, "what, pray tell, are you doing here?"
Keeping the form of his childhood body, the leader of Cruxis widened his eyes ever so slightly, deliberately, making a ghastly parody of what he once was. The voice that came out was calculated, every nuance of his "pain" in perfect synchronization. "Why, can't I visit my dear teacher and make sure he is not… oh, perhaps dying…? And please don't call me by that name, it feels almost like if you're trying to…" He raised an eyebrow. "…insult me."
"Very well, Mithos." Kratos sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I have no time for your games today. We both know fully well that you are concerned for my health purely for the reason that I am the seal for Origin."
The pseudo-child's lips lifted in a sweet smile that did not touch his eyes. "Oh, am I, beloved teacher? How could you say such hurtful things!"
"Hurtful. Of course."
Mithos leaned closer, a hair's breadth away from the mercenary's ear. "Why, my dear Kratos, it sounds like you don't believe me. You know that there are much less… pleasant… ways and places for you to recover."
The auburn-haired Seraph shivered just the slightest, despite all his will against it. It brought clear, ringing laughter from his ancient apprentice, laughter like the clang of steel against steel, of blade against blade. Beautiful, but oh, so deadly.
"Mithos, if this is all you are here to tell me, then you are wasting your time with something I already know fully well."
A pale topaz eyebrow lifted in a perfect arch. "I hope you are not trying to inflict the implication that you don't enjoy my presence."
Kratos frowned. This was unusual, too tense, too drawn-out even for "Lord Yggdrasill". A few sarcastic words, a few barely-veiled threats, but… what was this? He let his own side of the "game" drop and softened his voice. "Mithos, is there something you wish to discuss with me?"
A tremor passed through the child-like body as the leader-angel started in surprise. "I… N-no, of course not! Why would you…"
"I have known you for over four millennia, Mithos. After that long, you are not so hard to read as you would like to think."
"I…" The leader of Cruxis looked away, displaying, for a short while, his vulnerability and hesitance. "I'm not so cruel and sure as they think, Kratos. And I… don't know if this is right. Why do they all think there's another way? Why are they willing to give this wretched world another chance, this world that betrayed me?"
The older man lapsed back into his teacher form. "Have you thought that they may be right? Have you considered that there is another way?"
"Of course I have!" The boy looked up aggressively, anger in his wide eyes. "Of course I've thought about it. You know I can't dismiss possibilities without considering them first. There is no other way. Only by making everyone the same will discrimination ever truly end. Only by destroying all emotions will you take away pain and hatred."
"And what about love?" Kratos reminded him gently. "Have you forgotten about that? By taking away everything, you will also destroy love."
"Don't you see…?" A sad, thoughtful frown descended upon the youthful visage. "Don't you see, Kratos? That's the whole point! To destroy love along with everything else…"
The mercenary raised an eyebrow. "Why would you do that? Don't tell me you have never loved."
Mithos settled himself on the bed comfortably and swung his legs against the side like a child. "I have loved, and that's why I was hurt. That's why you were hurt, why everyone was. So without love, there wouldn't be any more pain."
"…" The older Seraph remained silent.
"You don't believe me, do you, Kratos?" The boy closed his eyes, drawing his legs up and leaning his chin on his knees. "I was hurt that the world hated us because I loved our people. I was hurt that Martel died because I loved her. I was hurt that Yuan was the leader of the Renegades who were so against me because I loved him. The… Summon Spirits were hurt by my s-called 'betrayal' because they loved me." He glanced up at Kratos, and a sly look flashed across his eyes for a moment before they regained their childish innocence. "Don't tell me you weren't hurt by love. You were hurt by that 'Anna' woman's death because you loved her. You were hurt that I forced you to betray and fight your son because you loved him. Weren't you? Weren't you!"
"…" Still silent, Kratos turned his head away, refusing to let his emotions show. Slowly, in carefully-controlled tones, he posed his question. "You loved them too, their little group. You loved that half-elven child, Genis, and he you. Why, then, did you betray him? Why would you force this pain upon him?"
"Because your precious son is determined to fight me, Kratos." The child-angel sighed wearily. "Your son, and his rag-tag band of fools. And I… won't let them hesitate. I won't make them fight someone they love; won't let Genis fight someone he loves. That much, at least, I am compelled to give them."
"…I see." The older man waited, knowing there was more to it.
Slowly, Mithos stretched, seeming to almost rouse himself out of a dream. Without a word, he plopped off the bed and walked to the door before stopping, though his back still faced his ancient teacher. "I can't spare you the pain, though, my dear teacher. You would soon have to choose between me… or your precious son. There is no possibility that we would be on the same side, so… you would… have to fight one of us, betray and hurt one of us…"
"…" The silence stretched, and it seemed that Kratos was not going to answer.
However, the younger angel stayed at the door, patiently waiting. "Well, Kratos…?"
"I… know."
That answer seemed to satisfy Mithos Yggdrasill, leader of Cruxis, and he slipped out.
For a long time, the blue-winged Seraph could only stare at the door. Finally, he spoke again, his words directed at who was once his student, unheard by any living soul. "Have you forgotten about happiness, Mithos? That, too, is brought upon by love. Your happiest time… was when we were together, all four of us, traveling and 'saving the world'. And mine… mine was when Anna was still alive, and… I did not need to betray Lloyd, my sweet, beloved child…"
His only answer was the distant, ethereal breeze of Vinheim.
"And… you know I have… already made my choice."
