(A/N) Sorry this one took so long... it's not even one of my better chapters. I apologize for being so busy with school, after AP tests and SATs are done I'll have tons more free time to write, but until then chapters might be out at erratic times. Sorry!

Disclaimer: If I owned Tales of Symphonia, Mithos would simply be given a life bottle to revive Martel and everyone would throw a party... then Kratos could stay with Lloyd. But I don't own.

Chapter 10

Kratos walked torpidly to his room. A certain numbness had seeped into his joints, and they were stiff from either exertion or injury. That was no matter though, he was at his destination. He let himself slide limply onto the mattress. He wasn't anything less than emotionally drained. It didn't hurt anymore. It just felt like nothing, a void of empty space where his heart should be. He should be sad, crying even. No one could see him now; it was safe to cut loose. What kind of wretched son kills his own father, and then doesn't even feel? Kratos shuddered, but not from cold. It was repulsive. He was cowardly. The only semblance of a feeling he could muster was intense guilt and self-loathing. He had felt sad, crushingly so, but it was done. Did that make him callous, or was he just going through abstract stages of mourning?

He wanted nothing more than to drift off into a dreamless sleep, but he forced himself to reflect. His dad was dead. He'd established that fact, and now he had no choice but to move forward, which meant accepting it. Trying his best to detach himself from the situation, Kratos contemplated what that meant for Tethe'alla. The king was deceased, and they'd need to quickly crown Nyx Queen before people started to panic. Nyx was a humanitarian, but she wouldn't go against the wishes of her people. The war would continue at its current pace, if the Tethe'allans were lucky and the Sylvaranti didn't get the jump on them in a brief moment of chaos.

No one expected King Aurion to pass away. He'd been recovering. Maybe it caught the Sylvaranti off guard, too. Kratos knew it was wishful thinking, but tipping the war either way would result in oppression on one side. That could only breed more war. He needed a mutual cease-fire.

He absently noted that it started to rain outside. A light rapping on the roof slates slowly picked up until it was a steady thrumming. Each sound was hollow and sharp sounding. It was a perfect reflection on his mood, he thought grimly. Until he could get the war to stop people would continue to die. How many people had suffered while he simply laid here? How many had died?

Kratos allowed sleep to overtake him, but it wasn't dreamless.

Yuan crashed through the thick sands at such a pace that he didn't feel the heat rising from it. It was nighttime, which meant that as soon as those sands cooled it was going to get very frigid. Hopefully on horseback he could clear the worst of it at night. Latheon Gorge was several days on foot, possibly half a day on horseback. Yuan was inclined to think he might beat that time at the speed he was pushing his steed. Now that he thought about it the poor horse needed a rest soon. Yuan slowed the creature to a trot and dismounted. He figured they were about half way through the desert part. A thick band of the Gaoracchhia forest protected the Sylvaranti side of the Gorge, but the Tethe'allan side was markedly higher ground, which gave their magitechnology a serious advantage.

Yuan slipped one of the water canteens off of the saddle of his horse and poured it into his hand for the creature to drink. Steady gulps vibrated up its sturdy frame, and Yuan guiltily noted how hard he had been running him.

"Sorry, boy." He muttered apologetically while stroking the curly mane. He could manage to walk for a short while, at least during a quick recovery time. His feet dragged across the fine sands heavily, leaving thick trails it their wake. He trudged alongside his horse.

He didn't know what to prepare for once he reached the Gorge. He might very well have to accept that his men were already dead, or at least a few of them. They must have been there for several days by now, and the fighting there went through men like no other front. He grimaced at the thought. Once he got there, for Suguro's sake, his men better be in one piece.

Kratos' eyes snapped open once again. He couldn't manage to get more than an hour of sleep at a time before waking. His heart was racing, and his head hurt from the vivid nightmares. He was used to this one by now, it was the only thing that had crossed his subconscious since he had first shut his eyes. The fact that it no longer surprised him made it no less disturbing.

The dull gray light wafting through the window showed the coming of morning. Kratos groaned to himself. He might as well get up now. He needed to think clearly. Kratos rolled himself off of the bed sheets and went to go splash cold water on his face. His injuries still stung a bit, and he'd nearly forgotten about them. Leaving them overnight was obviously a bad choice, and now the cuts were filthy and scabbed over. He cleaned the wounds well, and the only major sources of potential infection were his gashed hands. Wrapping them tightly with gauze would only hinder his swordsmanship, so he simply slipped on his gauntlets and rolled his shoulder. It was definitely swollen, but aside from that Kratos was fairly certain he'd gotten away with a sprain instead of a dislocation. Lucky him.

He cleaned up and prepared to go downstairs and meet up with Xilia before deciding on a new course of action. Trotting down the stairs, he was still weary with lack of sleep. He dragged his feet when entering the research institute, and immediately spotted the woman by her usual station. Xilia looked particularly intent on a piece of data and didn't even blink while analyzing something on her screen. She was also shoveling an impressive amount of food into her mouth. Kratos stopped in his steps.

Breakfast.

He'd forgotten, and remarkably he wasn't the slightest bit hungry. He had been busy, but his body wouldn't let him forget that sort of thing no matter how much trouble he had in a single day. Kratos hadn't eaten since- well since the previous morning. That was more than just forgetting. Could it be a side effect of the Cruxis Crystal? He should ask, though, it would be bad if he starved himself only because he couldn't feel hunger.

Xilia had just noticed his presence and shifted demeanors without missing a beat.

"Daisuke!" she called, overly cheerful, "About yesterday-" She looked like she would've kept going for a while, so Kratos took pity on her, though it would've been much better to draw out her suffering. He'd fallen off of that cliff, after all.

"It's fine." He dead panned. This lady couldn't take up all of his time today. She stopped mid-apology.

"Oh. Okay." She shut her mouth and hit a couple of keys on her keyboard. "Well, yesterday you pushed yourself really hard. If these heart rate readings are anything to go by, that is." She waited for input. Kratos merely nodded in affirmation.

"So you should take it easy today, I don't know what could happen if the exsphere matures too fast." Again the boy said nothing. She prodded a bit more, "Any sensory changes? Side-effects?"

"I haven't been hungry since yesterday morning. And the crystal emitted a sort of light and heat during the walk back for a short time. I almost ripped it off." Xilia's eyebrows shot up. Interesting.

"No hunger? I expected a reaction from the crystal, but it should only impact your battle reflexes and important senses like sight and smell and the sort. I'd have to look into that before I have you do anything too stressing. How's your eyesight?" He frowned a bit at the vague response.

"Sharper." Xilia looked pleased with herself at that. Something was going according to plan, at long last.

"Good. The only thing for today is to relax. We're supposed to have mandatory days off for mourning this week. The King's funeral is tomorrow, and it's been designated a 'no work' day so any one can attend." Daisuke's face darkened slightly and his frown deepened into a scowl.

"I know it's sad, but you need to relax for a few days until I figure this out, okay?" She met his wine-colored eyes. His eyes really were a unique color, she noted. Not brown, but not quite red either. In fact, she'd never seen anyone with eyes of that hue. Hm. A genetic experiment idea began to surface in the back of her mind dealing with the passing of hereditary anomalies. He nodded and left in the same sullen manner he had yesterday. He appeared different than at first, though sleep did him well.

Kratos broke out of the stuffy institution's large doors and a sense of openness pervaded the outdoors. He had a few free days before he had to check back in with Xilia. He could attend his father's funeral if he could slip inside Meltokio unnoticed. It was only right that he pay his respects, so it wouldn't be an option to not go. A problem with that situation could arise. Both the Sylvaranti and the Tethe'allans might expect him to show, and he wasn't sure how to respond to Nyx right now.

Whatever he pulled off when he got there, he'd have to leave for Meltokio soon in order to make it. Hadn't he just left that place? Kratos felt as if his life was an eternal walk through forest and mountain range alike.

Yuan sighed in relief upon sight of a Sylvaranti outpost. The brown tinged flag with a small red insignia in the center meant that his regiment was currently stationed there. He wasn't sure for how long, but this most likely meant that they hadn't had too much time to see battle in the Gorge yet. Already the landscape was shifting to craggy rocks and low shrubs with only occasional patches of sand as evidence of the massive desert he'd just left behind. He rode his horse through the securities gate and waved off the guards. They all knew him.

Riding up towards the main establishment, Yuan scanned for any signs of bloodshed. This might also be the first place they retreated to if they had trouble maintaining the border. The actual Latheon Gorge lay several miles ahead, but the jagged faces of the rocks jutted out dangerously along the opposite horizon. After the initial ravine drop-off, the Tethe'allan territory on the other side was treacherous and hard to travel by. The location itself was part of the reason the area was so hard to hold. The boundary at the deep cut into the land would tip into Tethe'alla's favor if at all. Sylvarant had a much flatter edge of the Gorge, and because of that, if the Tethe'allans breached the pass they could take an enormous amount of territory.

If the commander he'd talked to was correct, the Sylvaranti were already losing ground. This spot might be the breaking point of the war. It had been at a stalemate for the past few years until the fighting escalated as both sides grew more desperate. What triggered aforementioned desperation were the dramatic technological leaps Tethe'alla had made. They were working on all kinds of magitechnology that most Sylvaranti civilians still thought were myths. Yuan and a few other regiment leaders were working on their own advancements (grudgingly based off of many Tethe'allan designs), but did not progress as rapidly.

Yuan spotted one of his soldiers and quickly dismounted his steed. The poor horse huffed with exhaustion, and the half-elf sympathetically passed off the reins to a watchman. Turning away, and feeling the weight of an all-nighter, Yuan called out to the man.

"Oi! Kenta!" The sharp blue eyes of his second in command met his instantly. A broad smile spread across the young man's usually stony features, revealing white teeth that appeared almost angled inwards as some people are inclined to have.

"Yuan, sir!" He mock saluted as Yuan closed the gap between them. Now that Yuan got a good look at the guy, he seemed in good enough standings to have fared through Suguro's leadership. None of his men were formal around him, so another commander was bound to encounter- er- some rebellious behavior. Yuan smirked at the thought. Served him right for taking his regiment out without informing him.

"How went the mission?" The brunette asked cheerily, rubbing his neck. Yuan shook his head.

"Inconclusive." That was all Kenta's clearance allowed him to know, but the man was not thrown off by this. He was intelligent enough to know when things didn't concern him. His straight hair hung over his eyes in short bangs, giving his eyes the appearance of a puppy dog's despite his age of 27. Blissfully ignorant. Yuan sighed, though regardless, he was happy to be back with his men. He could manage them well enough to get everyone through this potential bloodbath.

Kratos took the direct route to Meltokio from Sybak, meaning it wasn't as round-about as his trip away from the capital. He could reach the city by late evening if he kept up his quick speed. This exsphere really did boost his limits, and he was grateful. How else would he get to the funeral in time?

The forest was alive around him, birds chirping and plants rustling. The sound of cicadas was so thick that it muffled his sense of hearing. Despite the semblance of such life, the ground was easily travelled and not marred by troublesome foliage that hindered his movements. That would be the Gaoracchhia forest, so thick and gnarled that one saves much more time by simply going around instead of braving through. Not the surrounding woods of Meltokio, though, these were his woods.

Having good bearings on his route, Kratos judged himself to be nearing the patrol perimeter of Tethe'alla's capital. He'd have to steer clear of the scouts and security Knights if he wanted to make it in unnoticed. Unless they changed their patrol times since he left- though he wouldn't put it past them- the guards would be crossing his path right when he expected to be there. Talk about timing, he could either slow down and risk running into other travelers, who would most definitely come flooding into Meltokio, or attempt to beat the Knights to the perimeter and slip through. He was already at a fast paced step, and a mile or so off, but he needed to get in quick if he expected to beat those other Tethe'allan citizens that may have left as soon as they heard the news. His father had been a revered King, popular among the people. Certainly many people would come, more than Kratos was prepared to deal with.

In fact, he still hadn't resolved the problem of his appearance. Almost every high ranking noble, or royal guard would be able to point him out. Not to mention his situation was very much public from what he could tell. Everyone thought he was either craven or abducted, and as far as they knew, they should be on the lookout. His spiky auburn hair was too unique to be ambiguous, so he'd likely need to procure a hat or helmet of sorts. A helmet would be ideal, because not only would it cover up his hair, but also any distinguishing facial characteristics. Helmets would stand out if they weren't part of a uniform the people were accustomed to.

The more he thought about it, it might actually be a good idea to run into one of those Knights.

Kratos checked his pace to slow a bit down, then checked the sun. If he was right, he'd be meeting a patrol of three Knights a quarter mile ahead in about a half hour. He'd have ample time to prepare an ambush. It would be tricky though, if they saw his face they would surely recognize him. All of the patrol guards were part of the Tethe'allan Royal Knights that were posted at the castle. Catching them by surprise should save him on that front, if he played his cards right. Kratos was slightly reassured with the beginnings of a plan, but was broken out of his machinations when he heard muffled voices to his left. Either he misjudged the time, or the patrol was early. It didn't really matter which, because this was probably the only isolated group of Knights he would encounter for several hours. Hours he couldn't afford to waste if he wanted to make it the rest of the way in before tomorrow. His plan of an ambush would have to be compiled hastily. Kratos drew his blade as the steps and clanking of armor grew nearer. He braced his back against a clump of wide trunked trees. He'd knock them out after they passed his position. He slowed his breathing forcibly.

At moments like these, strange fragments of reminders tend to surface. In any other situation it might be humorous- what the brain likes to remember in the spurn of the moment. Kratos smirked in spite of the approaching Knights. Didn't Xilia say he should relax? There was a slim chance he'd be doing any of that in the near future.

(A/N) Sorry again it's so choppy and not my usual quality, I wrote different parts at completely separate times, so it won't flow as well. Any way, I know where the next few chapters are going, so expect better next time!