A/N: Back up at the university, with nothing to do while waiting for classes to start. So here's another update.

Also, for those of you who are wondering where Presea and Regal are...I don't know. They're rather hard characters to write, so I'll probably leave them out of most of my stories, for simplicity's sake.

Why do Kratos and Zelos still have their Exspheres, while everybody else doesn't? I don't know the answer to that either...

I am aware that the progression of Kratos and Zelos's relationship seems rather rushed. I considered drawing it out into a more realistic timeline, but that would probably just result in a lot of boring filler narration, which I don't enjoy writing, and which undoubtedly you wouldn't enjoy reading either. So just bear with me, I guess.

THESE LIES WE TELL: CHAPTER III

Neither of them spoke of the incident again. The next morning Zelos was a little paler and walked with a more pronounced limp, but at everyone else's startled questions he merely shrugged and said he'd fallen out of bed that morning. Raine, who had arrived earlier that morning with Genis, did seem rather suspicious—Kratos suspected she could sense that a healing spell had been used, as she herself was a healer. But if she did have any doubts about Zelos's story, she chose not to express them, instead opting to smack Genis on the head for talking with his mouth full.

The next few days were rather routine. Sheena eventually left to take care of an emergency in Mizuho, but Lloyd and his friends continued questioning Zelos at every possible moment. The redhead, for his part, stuck stubbornly to his claim that the fall had been accidental, though occasionally he did cast uncertain looks in Kratos's direction. The mercenary acknowledged them, and became more and more convinced that something else was going on, something that Zelos wouldn't—or couldn't—tell them.

About a week after their arrival, Zelos finally got his arm out of the sling, thanks to Raine's expert care. The young half-elf no longer had an Exsphere—she, like Genis, Lloyd and Colette, had agreed that it was not worth the cost and had discarded it—but her knowledge of anatomy and appropriate healing items was extraordinary at the very least, and she had the redhead up and about in no time. Zelos, of course, did not refrain from showering her with all the most extravagant praise and innuendo, most of which was met by harsh words or a hearty slap, sometimes both.

Yet despite Zelos's quick recovery, both physically and, apparently, mentally, Kratos could not help noticing that the redhead still appeared to be bothered by something. It was mostly little things—how Zelos held himself, the way he smiled just a little too brightly—he seemed to be tense all the time. At the same time, the redhead had also developed a rather strange aversion to mirrors, and had even once suggested having the one in his room removed. At the volley of surprised questions that resulted, however, he'd instantly backed down, saying it was just an idea and that really it didn't matter either way.

Kratos, however, had his suspicions, especially since his fight with Zelos more than a week ago. Thus, one calm autumn afternoon, while Lloyd and the others were off watching battles at the Coliseum and Seles was shopping with Sebastian, the Seraph found himself making his way down the hall toward a now-familiar bedroom.

Zelos was sitting on his bed, staring at the mirror across the room: it was a position Kratos had found him in several times over the past week. The redhead turned at his entrance, though, and frowned. "I thought you'd be watching the fights with Lloyd," he said by way of greeting.

"I have seen more than enough battles for my lifetime," Kratos answered, shutting the door carefully behind him.

They were silent for a moment, simply looking at each other. At long last, Zelos turned, jerking his head in the direction of his sword rack on the wall. "What, you looking for Round Two or something? 'Cause I'm better now; I could take you on."

"No, that is not my intention," Kratos answered.

"Yeah? Then don't let the door hit your ass on the way out."

He didn't move; of course, Zelos probably never expected him to. They were forced to be civil to each other with Lloyd and the others in such close proximity, but that didn't mean they had to like each other, Kratos knew—though a small, traitorous voice in the back of his head whispered hints about the sudden sense of panic he had felt when he had first held Zelos's body, so limp and lifeless in his arms.

He pushed those thoughts aside quickly and focused instead on the question he had come to ask. "Why are you afraid of mirrors now?"

Zelos blinked several times and frowned; the question had obviously caught him off guard. "I'm not afraid," he said, and for a moment Kratos was reminded of a stubborn child.

"You avoid them whenever possible," he continued. "I've seen you. Why?"

Zelos just shrugged, looking over at the large mirror on the opposite wall. "I guess I just don't like what I see there," he said.

Had Kratos not given such cryptic answers himself at one point, he would have been annoyed. As it stood, he just lowered himself into the nearest chair, fixing the ex-Chosen with a steady gaze. "That night, when you threw yourself out the window," he said. "Was it suicide or not?"

Zelos turned away from the mirror, looking instead down at the floor. He was silent for a moment, appearing to be contemplating something. "You know," he said at last, "You weren't there with us, were you, for the final battle? When we fought Mithos?"

Kratos blinked, thrown slightly off by the sudden shift of subject, but chose to answer anyway. "No, I was not."

"But if you had been there," Zelos continued, "and you had had the chance to kill him, to kill Mithos…would you have done it?"

Kratos swallowed; he'd asked himself this question many times before. "In all honesty," he said, "I really don't know. I…might have, if I had to."

"Yeah?" Zelos said. "And what if Mithos was alive today? What if he were to…just walk through that door right now, or something? Would you kill him?"

Kratos frowned. "Why are you asking me this?" he asked.

At that, Zelos shrugged. "No reason," he said, turning to look at the mirror again. "Just curious, I guess."

Kratos followed his gaze, but could see nothing but his and Zelos's reflections, peering steadily back at them from the glassy depths. Frowning, he started to speak—

"Zelos! Dad! We're back!"

"Oniisama! Come look at what we bought!"

Zelos rose at that and headed for the door, but stopped with his hand resting on the knob. "You might want to think about that," he murmured.

"About what?" Kratos asked, thoroughly confused.

"Mithos," the ex-Chosen answered, and walked out. Kratos frowned, taking a moment to glance once more at the mirror, still sitting passively in its place on the wall, before heading out himself.

That evening, Zelos didn't come down to dinner. When they headed upstairs and discovered his bedroom window broken open and the redhead gone, Kratos wondered why he wasn't surprised.

They set out to find him immediately, of course, and here they discovered that being the Chosen had its benefits.

"The Chosen?" the young Meltokian aristocrat repeated, pausing to straighten her dress. "Let's see…oh, as a matter of fact, I did see him. He was heading out of the nobles' area, though I'm not sure where he was going."

"Ah, passed by just a few minutes ago," the old man said. "Looked like he was going to the royal palace. Had a rather strange look on his face…"

"He asked to have a look down in the prison area," the palace guard told them, voice gruff and commanding. "He had the proper clearance, being the Chosen and all, so I let him in. If he's searching for someone in particular, though, he'll have a hard time of it—the prison's a big place."

Raine shook her head, thoroughly confused. "Why would Zelos want to visit the prison?" she wondered aloud as they stood on the steps of the palace. "Does he know someone in there?"

"If he had wanted to visit somebody, he could've done it during the daytime," Lloyd said.

"I don't understand," Seles said, panting slightly. "Oniisama only ever visited the prison area once, and that was for my mother's…" She stopped, and gave a choked little gasp.

"Seles? Are you okay?" Genis asked, frowning.

Seles looked up at them, blue eyes wide and frightened. Then suddenly she turned, dashing for the prison entrance, but her progress was easily halted by the guard they had just spoken to.

"Easy there, Miss Wilder," the guard said as she struggled with him, "The Chosen gave express orders that I wasn't to let any of you in after him."

"No, no—you don't understand!" Seles half-screamed, half-sobbed. "My mother was executed in the chamber down there—he's going to do it again! He's going to use the execution chamber to kill himself!"

"Now you don't know that," the guard said. "For all you know, he could just be visiting somebody after hours. I'm sorry, but—please calm down, Miss Wilder—I can't let you in—"

Cool metal touched his neck, and he froze as Kratos said in a voice that was pure venom, "Try and stop us."

The others sidled around him, hurrying into the dark passageway beyond as Kratos continued in the same voice, "You are going to stay here and continue your watch like nothing happened. You wouldn't want the death of the Chosen on your record, after all, would you?"

The guard swallowed and shook his head; turning, Kratos ran after the others.

The darkness seemed endless, the groans and cries of Meltokio's prisoners echoing in the far distance as they turned corner after corner through passageway after passageway. Bringing up the rear, Kratos could just barely make out Seles's red hair in the dimness of the dungeon; the fourteen-year-old seemed to know exactly where she was going, and he prayed that was the case—it wouldn't do for them to get lost in here, not when Zelos was about to die just ahead of them.

And since when did you start caring about him so much?

Kratos chose not to answer, only added on more speed.

Then suddenly it happened: Seles skidded to a sudden halt. Lloyd and Colette, who didn't react as fast, smashed straight into what seemed like thin air but bounced them back like a solid brick wall.

As they picked themselves up dazedly from the floor, Raine hurried forward, pressing a careful hand against the invisible wall. "It's a magical barrier of some sort," she muttered. "I don't think I've ever seen one this powerful. I wonder what—"

"Oniisama!" Seles hurried forward, banging her fists on the barrier. "Oniisama, no!"

And then they all saw him: he was barely visible in the darkness beyond the barrier, but there was no mistaking the fiery red hair. Zelos did not turn, indeed did not even seem to hear his half-sister, as he knelt down and continued tracing intricate patterns on the smooth floor.

"Oniisama!" Seles's cries were so choked now they were nearly indiscernable. "Don't do this! Please! Don't leave me alone!"

Zelos straightened at that, but did not turn around. When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly strong. "Somebody take her out of here," he said, looking down at the large seal-like design he had drawn out on the floor before him. "I don't want her to see this."

Kratos turned to Genis and Colette; they nodded and approached Seles, who was still screaming.

"Oniisama, come back! Don't—ah! Let go of me! No, let go, Oniisama's going to—no!" Her cries gradually faded away as Genis and Colette pulled her back down the way they had come, Colette apologizing the whole way.

"All right," Raine said, once Seles's cries had completely disappeared. "Seles is gone now, Zelos. Now please, be rational and come out of there."

The ex-Chosen, however, just shook his head, laughing slightly. When he spoke, he seemed to be talking more to himself than to them. "This chamber was used to kill Seles's mother, after she murdered mine," he muttered, looking down at the floor. "It's specially designed for half-elves. A fitting end, don't you think?"

"But you're human," Lloyd said. Something began to nag in the back of Kratos's mind.

Zelos continued as if he hadn't heard. "It works by completely draining the target's mana in a matter of minutes," he said, still not turning around. "I've heard it's excruciatingly painful. I've only ever seen it in operation once, of course, but…it didn't look like she was having a good time."

"Zelos!" Raine tried again. "Zelos Wilder, you come out from there right now!"

Zelos only shook his head. "But then again," he whispered, "You deserve as much pain as I can give you, after all you've done."

And then suddenly everything clicked—all the events of the past week seemed to gather themselves together, completing the puzzle in Kratos's head. The Seraph stepped forward, waving Raine aside and placing a hand on the barrier. "Zelos," he said. "This is about Mithos, isn't it?"

The redhead stiffened, but said nothing. Beside him, Raine gasped and Lloyd made some sort of noise halfway between a squawk and a choke. Kratos sighed. "Some part of Mithos stayed in your mind, even after Lloyd saved you," he said. "That's why you asked me if I would kill him, if it really came down to it. You wanted to know if I would be able to do something you already failed to do once."

For a moment all was silent; the only sound Kratos could hear was his son's harsh breathing. Then Zelos slowly raised his head. "I knew you'd get it eventually," he said, and turned around.

Raine gave a sort of half-wail, half-shriek, and Lloyd stopped breathing altogether. Kratos for his part just willed himself to look forward, though his fist clenched unknowingly at his side.

Zelos's right eye was its normal sky blue, a color that by now Kratos had memorized. The other eye was equally familiar, but in a much more sinister way: it was still blue, except darker and with a hint of gray; it was a color Kratos had first seen more than four thousand years ago, and a color he had thought he would never see again.

A moment passed before Zelos spoke. "I didn't even know until a couple weeks back," he said, mismatched eyes looking down at the floor. "But when I found out…I knew I had to kill him for good."

"Zelos." Kratos shook his head. "Zelos, listen to me. We can find another way."

At that, the redhead smiled, bitter and angry. "You don't understand," he whispered, and looked up, meeting Kratos's eyes. "There is no other way." Then he turned, and went to stand in the middle of the complex circle he had drawn.

The bright flash of light caught them all off-guard, and they staggered backward in surprise as the circle slowly lit up. Soft swishes came out of the darkness as glowing chains shot out from the edges of the circle, wrapping firmly around the redhead, holding him down. Then the circle flashed again, glowed, and Zelos began to scream.

"Lloyd!" Kratos yelled, quickly regaining his footing and drawing his sword. "Lloyd, help me!" Charging his blade with magic using his Exsphere, he brought it down repeatedly against the barrier, noting out of the corner of his eye his son doing the same with his twin blades. His sword, pulsing with energy, threw sparks upon contact, and through the glowing bits of light he saw Zelos writhing within his metal confines.

Beside him, Lloyd was panting with the effort; without an Exsphere, he had no strength. Kratos gritted his teeth, concentrating more power into his blade, but it was no use—even with Raine beating desperately against the barrier with her own staff, the invisible wall refused to budge.

Zelos's cries were softer now, as if he had exhausted his breath—or his mana. The circle was beginning to lose its glow; the small body in the middle sagged in its chains. Kratos suddenly knew that if they didn't do something now, it would be too late.

"Lloyd, Raine," he said, "Stand back." He did not wait to see if they had obeyed him before sheathing his sword and concentrating magic into his right hand, feeling his Exsphere pulsing with pent-up energy, just begging to be released.

Up ahead in the execution chamber, Zelos's body was still spasming, but the redhead was quiet now. Kratos forced himself not to think about what that probably meant as he concentrated still more magic into his hand, feeling it vibrating with raw power, bubbling beneath the skin. Just a bit more…

His Exsphere suddenly seemed to emit a shriek, a distant cry that echoed through his body, told him it was now now NOW and he slammed his fist forward into the barrier. "Shining Bind!"

Searing pain shot through his arm but he gritted his teeth and ignored it as white light flooded the barrier; it shuddered, groaned, then shattered in one magnificent moment. Then, even as Lloyd stumbled backward and Raine screamed in surprise, Kratos ducked his head and shot forward, clumsily drawing his sword with his left hand, bringing the blade down with all his strength on the first chain he saw—

Light flooded his vision for a brief moment, stunning him so that he stumbled and fell. By the time he thought to move again, though, the light had faded away, and there was only the darkness, and the shattered barrier, Lloyd and Raine still shocked behind it, and Zelos, lying limp and motionless before him.

Not particularly wanting to think about what his right hand probably looked like, Kratos tucked it behind his back, reaching out with his good hand to gently turn the redhead over. Zelos's face was white as a sheet, his red hair framing him like a funeral shroud, and as he bent down Kratos was afraid that he really had been too late—

But then he felt it: a light, barely distinguishable puff of air on his cheek. It was slight, shallow, but it was there. Zelos was breathing; there was still hope.

"Dad!" Lloyd, seeming to finally have shaken off his shock, hurried to them, followed closely by Raine. "Is he okay?" He stared at Kratos's apparently mutilated hand. "Are you okay?"

Kratos didn't bother answering; straightening, he pressed his left hand firmly to Zelos's chest and began pouring mana into him. "Help if you can," he said simply. Without Exspheres, though, Raine and Lloyd were next to useless, he knew, so when they only sat back and stared, he didn't blame them.

The minutes seemed to last ages as they sat there, watching the soft golden glow as Kratos's mana poured itself into the nearly lifeless shell beneath his hand. Somewhere in the back of the Seraph's mind, a little voice warned him against releasing so much mana—Zelos probably wasn't even absorbing it, he was dead either way—but Kratos squashed it, concentrating instead on Zelos, and saving him.

Why he was so determined to do so, he didn't dare think about.

"Dad," Lloyd said at last, after some minutes had passed. His voice was small, choked, like the child that he was. "Dad, I don't think—"

And then Kratos's mana pulsed, came to life, and then Zelos was alive, coughing and gasping for breath as his bright blue eyes alternately flew open and drifted closed, limbs flailing weakly as if for a lifeline. And then Raine was half-laughing and half-sobbing as she hugged Lloyd with one arm and used the other to steady Zelos and check his vitals, and Kratos smiled, because he had done it and Zelos was alive, and he rose slowly to his feet to have a look at his hand—and really, that probably wasn't such a good idea because all of a sudden something shut down in his brain, and the last thing he remembered was Lloyd yelling something and the floor suddenly coming up to meet him.