((Ugh! Writers block much!? I'm dyyying. Anyway sorry this chapter doesn't have all the stuff I originally wanted to cover in it... But once again my 1500 word block is killing me XD really why cant I write more!? Well I do acctually have some drawings today. They are part of a new series of Omake's I'm starting called "Things I Chose Not to Mention" which will just be a bunch of silly stuff that -could- have happened in the course of this fanfiction but didn't because they would have been stupid. Today I have Chapter Nine's Edition ( Here: http :// i640 . photobucket . com / albums / uu122 / Oridesu / OddBeginnings .jpg ) I personally think that this would explain a great deal... As always whether I continue this omake series will be sporadic to say the least lol I also have a picture drawn by my BF (Who is way better at drawing than I). It's a rather special interpretation of a line from chapter 7... ( Here: http :// i640 . photobucket . com / albums / uu122 / Oridesu / Misinterpretation. jpg ) On another note, I Started a Soul Eater fanfiction. Check it out if you like Soul Eater! Anyway sorry I've been lazy lately and I hope you enjoy the chapter and please review!! Bye!!))

Not too long ago, Kratos had imagined himself to be used to the unpleasant realities of living in such a war torn world. However he felt that he now understood what it felt like to have your spirit broken. Before, he had thought the sharp pain and longing despair to be as far as one's heart could sink into hell. However, he realized now that there was another place below the plane of fire, something much worse.

As he looked upon the family of four, or the tattered remnants of their bodies-- made unrecognizable with yellow-brown bruises and dried blood. He couldn't react, not for fear, disgust, or pity on behalf of these poor souls, there was pain, but like a sliver of glass, it had been shoved too far under his skin to be seen or removed. The smell of newly rotting flesh made his stomach feel ill, but aside from that physical revulsion, his emotions were gone. He knew how he should feel, but it was as if the connection to his mind and heart had been severed. His conciousness dwelt alone and imprisoned within the confines of his head.

He turned back to the girl who had lead him there. Solemn tears were running down her cheeks as she looked upon the tangled corpses. Kratos looked at the sign that seemed to be written in their blood. "Traitors"?

"What was their crime?", He asked the girl matter-of-factly. This was obviously a display to instill fear into those who might oppose the local government, but the reasons were unclear.

"The harboring of an unauthorized half-elf," Despite her tears, the girl's voice gained a steely tone, "and general impropriety.", when Kratos didn't reply she continued, "There was a poster. but I ripped it down. I had the intention of cutting them down and giving them a proper burial. But--" Mid-sentence, there was a small noise. The very beginning of a cry. In an instant the girl was distracted "Mithos--" She crooned lightly, taking the small child from the sling where he had been sleeping. She rocked her brother back and fourth until he fell silent. "But I lack both the tools and physical strength." She continued, averting her eyes. It was obvious that she was ashamed of her own weakness, but she understood that pride would get her nowhere.

"I see." Kratos said in acknowledgment, though he still could not bring himself to feel any empathy.

"If you could please just cut them down, then you can be on your way." The girl said apologetically.

For a moment, Kratos considered doing just that. Slicing the ropes of these victims and leaving, never thinking about this moment again. But he knew what a terribly cold thing that was to do, it scared him how quickly he was turning into a monster, how easy it was. He stood there in silence, auburn hair covering his apathetic gaze.

"Please." a pleading tone came into the girl's voice. "I'll even pay you."

Kratos answered by stepping forward and ripping down the wooden sign. Then, in another smooth motion, he sliced through the ropes. Just because he couldn't cry for these people, didn't mean he didn't know what was right.

.............

"Estelle! What have you done to yourself!?" Aunt Kaere exclaimed. The girl had come running through door the looking distressed.

"I fell." The girl said flatly. There was no way Estelle was telling her aunt about the creature in the forest. She didn't even want to think about it herself.

Her aunt sighed and gave her a kindly suspicious look. "I told you not to go into the forest didn't I?"

"But I had to." she said without any elaboration. She looked back towards the tall trees, she still felt that despondent pull. Something was wrong and it had to be fixed. Estelle knew she might play a role in fixing it, but something still stopped her from knowing what that might be.

"You did?" The woman cocked her head in confusion, a loose strand of dark hair slipping over her eye.

"Yeah." Estelle nodded slowly, not wanting to say more. There was pause where her aunt scrutinized her face.

"Well, I suppose you did!" She said with a smile, "But next time, lets take better care of your clothes shall we?"

"Okay." Estelle nodded again and wondered what she meant by "next time". She wasn't going to be here that much longer.

After her clothes had been cleaned, by magic of course, Estelle quietly looked at some "books" that Aunt Kaere said were what children her age should be studying. The information wasn't new, but Estelle was throughly fascinated by the manner in which they worked. Instead of having pages made of paper and and a cover, they were just sheets of pretty blue glass. When you wanted to read something, you just touched it and you could scroll through the words that appeared. There were pictures too!

For the rest of the day, the books kept her mind occupied and she managed to ignore both the forest, her own curiosity about that strange creature, and the growing feeling of loneliness. Except for one of the books, it had lots of pictures of a huge tree, strange metal-colored towers, and one small picture of something that looked exactly like the thing she had seen that day. She had quickly tossed that book aside, Estelle had no interest in knowing what might be going on. She simply wanted to go home and the more involved she became in this strange and complicated world, the more easily it might trap her.

.............

"Keep your money." Kratos said coolly. It was the only way he could really say anything. His voice reflected the nothingness that now seemed to soak his very existence. Even still, he knew that he would not become a monster. He had been raised right, he knew what a good person should do and now that he didn't have his own heart to tell him what was evil, he must fall back on the code of honor that had been drilled into him since his first fencing lesson. And then again, his own feelings had been the source of his sins, maybe he should have always paid more attention to the rules.

He surveyed the surroundings, the clearing was small. Besides the ruined garden, and grotesque display, the charred remains of a cottage filled the space. He turned his attention to the cottage's late residents. They were in horrible shape, but the corpses were still somewhat fresh, the face of Alvar, the Elven elder, flashed before his eyes. The snake had mentioned an incident a few days ago in which some of his troops had taken it upon themselves to "purge" the land of half elves. Kratos wondered if these people were the result. He looked back at the half-elf who had brought him here. She watching him with an expression similar to fear, but Kratos paid it no mind. Did these people resemble her? It was hard to tell through all the dried blood. The most he could gather from the battered remains was that there were was one tall person with reddish hair and three smaller individuals with white hair, the smallest of which being child-sized.

What an unpleasant fate. Somewhere with in his chest, the sliver grew a little bigger, but it still was too deep to be seen. It scared Kratos that he thought nothing of touching the cold bodies. He laid he four of the out a best he could, though each one lay in the same stiff posture as when they had hung. Kratos shivered, his hands were ice cold. Legend said that if you touched death, your soul would be taken little by little. Maybe, that's what had happened. The world did seem so far away...

He was startled out of his thoughts when the girl behind him spoke.

"Hey-" she stepped beside him, "I found a shovel." The instrument was charred, but sturdy enough to do the job. Kratos took it from her and laid it on the ground.

"Thank you." He said stoically. The grayness of twilight was starting to ebb its way into the clearing. If he was going to make a proper grave, he would have to start now. However, that was not the way things were done. He thought back to a time when he had been at liberty to mourn the passing of those he loved. He remembered his grandmother's death and the way his whole family had stayed up all night, paying respect to the one they had lost. It was tradition. He had not been able to do such a thing for his parents and siblings. They had died not unlike this family, not unlike so many, sliced and beaten and left in the dirt.

The girl was looking at him strangely, "We should start soon..."

"No." He looked up at the sky, he would conduct a vigil for all whom he had killed or failed to protect, It could not grant him absolution, but it was all he could do. "I shall bury them in the morning."

The girl studied his blank expression, confused.

"Tonight, I will show respect for the dead."