ArissaMay: Alright, fourteen reviews. I know I said fifteen. But My Lovely Yume did… something. XD Wow, it's too late at night to be trying to remember this stuff. Anyways though, she did something wonderfuliciously awesome, so I told her it counted as a review and I'd update early. This chapter is dedicated to India, my newest Kraine friend. Much love, girly. :3

Chapter Ten

Six months, maybe more, since he'd last seen daylight.

Or perhaps, a little over a month.

The man hadn't even tried to keep track, though if he forced himself to take his best guess, he'd say somewhere around a quarter of a year.

Such time was trivial to him, he who'd seen four thousand and twenty nine other similar years. Yet at the same time, while he may be infinite, those whom he had somehow dedicated his life to preserve had their days numbered. It had plagued him, at first.

Everything had plagued him, at first.

The cell was the epitome of miserable nothingness. No light came in, not a single ray, and even with his angelic vision, he could not see a thing. There were no windows, of course, and all guards were positioned outside the hallway door, Kratos assumed, defeating the need for lighting.

Yes, there was a hallway... Cloudily, the man could recall what it looked like when he entered. Through a long hallway of some sort of tainted stone. Down some stairs, turn right, down another few stairs. There's a long hallway of cells, their iron bars enforced by the strongest of magic.

He was led to the... the second cell, he recalled, and thrown in forcefully. Kratos had not resisted, falling to his knees at once on the damp stone floor. He didn't think he could have resisted, even if he'd wanted to; it was as if he no longer had the strength to try.

Then the guards had disappeared, taking the light of their candles with them. There had been two of them, the guards… or was it three? He couldn't recall. The man with four thousand years of memories as clear as daylight could not remember something six months ago. Or a little over a month ago. Or a quarter of a year ago. Whichever it had been.

The guards seemed to take pleasure in keeping him so utterly blind and alone. Because of his inactivity, the effects of his Cruxis Crystal had dulled; Cruxis Crystals respond to activity, to fighting, to danger, to fear, and that is what stimulates them. That's what Mithos had used as his excuse for giving the declining world Desians, at least. Apparently, it was true, however, as he had soon started to feel a hunger and thirst gnawing at his throat and stomach, and a weariness at the end of each day.

Every so often, he'd find food in a corner of his cell, though he'd not once caught even a hint of anyone coming and putting it there… Though it was mere luck that he found it at all, by stumbling upon it in the darkness. Often it tasted a week or so old, not that it was fresh to begin with. If he didn't have the strength and endurance of an angel, he would have starved to death long ago.

Yet… that, to Kratos, would not be too opposed a fate. He'd allowed his own son to be captured and killed at the same hands that killed Martel.

And Raine... She'd turned her back on him. He'd let her fall into Jeremiel's clutches. He'd failed her.

-----

An indefinite amount of time later, a flicker caught his attention.

A flicker.

It was the faint, wavering flame of a candle, yet after so long in utter blackness, even so little a light burned his eyes like mild acid. He heard footsteps as well, approaching steadily at a slightly hurried tempo.

The man, for no longer could he bear the title 'seraph' or even 'mercenary' with any sort of pride, closed his eyes and rested his head on the hard, damp wall against which he leaned. Awaiting his fate. He was eerily calm; the time when he would have gotten up, drawn his sword, fought off his imminent death, was long gone. Now, he doubted he even had the strength to rise to his feet, to go to the execution chamber, or wherever they decided to free him from his misery, so he grimly hoped that they, by some chance, had brought the slaughtering tool with them and could off him where he sat.

The footsteps... something was wrong. They kept pausing, as if uncertain. Then they came to his cell... He sat, unmoving. Waiting. Yet no more noise came. No jingling of keys, nor any other footsteps to show why he wasn't being removed yet, why they were hesitating.

Then the candlelight shifted, rose slightly, to illuminate the silhouette of a face. A face he'd thought dead long ago.

Lloyd!

In a surprising burst of energy, the man leapt to his feet, crossing to the cell bars with a speed he'd not seen since he was first imprisoned. Though Kratos was forced to squint slightly, still unused to the light, he knew without a doubt that it was his son. Despite his renewed vigor, by the time Kratos had reached the bars, the twin-swordsman had fumbled with the keys and was proceeding to insert the right one in the keyhole. Lloyd struggled with it a bit, his focus on his father rather than properly unlocking the cell, but managed to get it right after a bit.

Kratos, meanwhile, felt the rush of energy slowly trickle away, the shock and joy at seeing his son being no match for the year of inactivity and poor nutrition. He grasped the cell bars for support, resting against them slightly, his eyes still narrowed painfully.

The man felt the bars he was relying on to hold him upright lurch to the side as Lloyd slid open the stubbornly resistant cell door. Unbalanced, he stumbled forward, reflexively grabbing hold of the nearest objects to catch him. In front of him, Lloyd let out a short gasp of pain, and from this, Kratos surmised that the sturdy objects in his grasp were his son's broad shoulders.

He raised his head slightly, slowly, to lock gazes with his slightly bewildered son. For a moment the two sat in silence, the only sound being their heavy breathing. Then, his eyes betraying his uncertainty, Kratos pulled himself toward the twin-swordsman and enfolded him in a harsh embrace.

Lloyd froze, shocked. The look on his face would have been priceless, had Kratos been able to see it, been in better spirits, and not been locked in a dungeon for a good few months. After a moment, though, he returned the embrace.

And they lingered there for a moment. It was like a new freedom, like something that had been compressing down on Kratos for years, something he hadn't even known existed, was dissipating in seconds.

Then Kratos drew back, his hands still on his son's shoulders. The young man blinked back at him, more surprised and confused than Kratos had ever seen him. Then, after a moment, a large grin broke out across Lloyd's face. Kratos took this as his cue to once more locate the now-still cell door to lean on. Then he turned to the twin-swordsman.

"How did-" Kratos cut off, blinking in surprise. That voice... was that him? It made someone with a throat condition sound like a prized singer, harsh and raspy from unuse. He swallowed, a dull ache having arisen in his throat, much like what would occur in his muscles when he started to use them again as well.

Swallowing again, he retried. "How did you get in here? What happened to the guards?" He demanded, though his words were slow and his voice was just as rough as it was the first try. "Surely there were guards posted outside my door. And where did you get the keys? And what happened after they took you captive in Iselia? I... I thought you were..."

Dead.

But, of course, he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Sabriel let me out," beamed Lloyd, though his voice as well was slightly rough. The mercenary gazed at him a moment, as close to a blank stare as Kratos would lower himself to offer. "Sabriel, he was... the Professor's bodyguardish servant person."

"Raine, how is she?" The blank stare had changed to one of interest, concern, and worry in a matter of seconds, and Lloyd eyed his father for a moment. Maybe Colette was right after all...

"She... Well, uh... Alive, I think?" Lloyd scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and the mercenary then realized how unusual his concern was. He paused to take a deep breath.

"Answer my questions. But hurry, we need to get out of here before Jeremiel realizes we're free," Kratos informed, glancing cautiously in the direction of the exit.

"Dad... Jeremiel's dead," Lloyd softly offered. The mercenary's eyes widened in shock. "...Raine killed him."

Kratos stood, shocked silent, for a good minute or so.

At last, he managed to choke out, "what?" But he clearly wasn't done. "When? How?!" The swordsman paused, taking another deep breath. "Tell me everything."

"The Professor killed Jeremiel, just about an hour ago. Sabriel, the servant I told you about, he let me out, and told me to find you and let you out too. He... he said he was a close personal friend of hers, and he knew that you would find her and help her as best you could. Sabriel was stalling, trying to bide time, he said, before he was caught and killed. He knew that, whether or not he took the blame for Jeremiel's death, he'd be killed for his close association with the Professor, so he'd take the blame anyways, give her time to get away." He paused to take a deep breath, unused to such long strings of words even before he was in captivity.

"Why in the hell did she kill him?!" Kratos took Lloyd's pause as an opportunity to demand more information. His son paused, gazing at him a moment, eyeing him like he had when Kratos had first asked about Raine.

"Jeremiel... had sentenced you to death. The Professor couldn't see any other way to save you, I guess."

Kratos blinked, his brow furrowing ever-so-slightly, but only for a moment. Then his eyes widened in realization. Did that mean... she'd forgiven him? It had to! But then his slight elation faded into a troubled look.

"So much has happened since they imprisoned me down here."

The Eternal Swordsman gazed at him in surprise. Didn't Kratos know? "Dad, it's been a year."

Kratos was shocked, though he didn't let on. A year. A full year! He'd spent a full year of his life in that damp, dark, horribly isolated dungeon. Though compared to his over four thousand years of life before that, it seemed a meager amount of time, it was a lot longer when spent in conditions such as he had.

After a moment, he shook his head, turning and bounding off toward the door. Though it was still incredibly dark, the stray rays of candlelight illuminated just enough that his enhanced eyesight could make out the shapes around him. He snatched his sword from where it rested idly, cobweb-ridden, against the wall not far away, taking the steps two at a time, despite the burning pain already settling into his long-unused muscles.

"Where are you going?" Lloyd shouted after him, and he paused, just barely still in view.

"To find Raine! There's something I've waited a year to tell her..."

ArissaMay: Why. Was. This. So. HARD. Gaaaad. It took forever to force this out, word by word. The next chapter will be longer, don't worry. I had to make a chapter for each of them, to show where they're at, and-... Why am I telling you guys? Just sit down, read it, review, and don't complain. :P 15 reviews, folks. :3