((Omggg I'm drowning! This story has gone on for waaay too long! It was supposed to be short (like 10 chaps) but it's taken me so long to get the storyline going!! The arc that I'm –just- finishing was only supposed to cover the first 4 chapters… *sigh* not to mention I've told it all wrong!.. I'm thinking I should just bag the whole thing T.T though it's sad because there were other things I wanted to write… Oh but in other news, I broke my 1500 word barrier!! Yay!))

It was morning. Estelle could tell by the greenish light that filtered its way to the bed she shared with her sister. As always, she was ready for the day as soon as her eyes opened. What was the point of just lolling around in bed when there were so many fun things to do!? Too bad sis was squishing her to death!! "Wake up!" She said angrily as she braced herself against the wall and tried to kick her much older sister off.

"Don't... the pancakes don't make shoes..." The older girl mumbled sleepily Rael always said really random things when she was just waking up.

"Moooom!!" Estelle whined, knowing her mother was bound to be somewhere and awake already. "Rael's squishing me and talking crazy again!!!"

"I am no--" Rael began to say, finally gaining a semblance of wakefulness, but stopped mid-sentence. A strange silence had overcome the forest. Both girls looked at each other, a bad feeling settling in the pit of their stomachs.

"What is it?" Estelle said in a whisper, but she too knew that feeling. It was the aura of death.

"Stay here!" Despite her love of sleep, the older girl was quite awake now. She crossed the small cottage to the front door that lay open. Estelle ignored her order, following her out to the garden.

Both girls breathed a sigh of relief as they reached the small plot behind the house. Their mother was standing in the garden. No matter what might be wrong, if mom was there everything would always be fine. At the approach of her children, the wise and beautiful woman turned around.

"--Mom its..." Rael began and then trailed off at the knowing look and solemn nod.

"I know. My brother is searching for half elves again." She said this with absolute sureness but equal sadness.

"Will he...?"

"No. Your Father and I were promised safety because of my status.", she turned and looked into the distance, "However, we cannot do anything to help our neighbors..." The great pain this caused her lingered in the set of her mouth.

Estelle looked at her feet, she hated it when mom was sad, for some reason, it gave her a feeling of impermanence. It made her feel like her world could end any second. She thought about going back into the house. Someone should really go make sure that Zaire got his lazy bones out of bed...

All heads turned in surprise as someone came stomping thought the underbrush. Estelle's heart gave a sickening jolt as a big figure jumped out in front of her. She gave a small scream and tripped backwards, but the figure ran past her.

"Elda!" Estelle blinked a few times and realized that the figure was none other than her own father, "We have to get out of here."

"Why?" The Elf looked at her Half-Elf husband in confusion, "The agreement..."

"Your Father," He said between labored breaths, "is dead."

Estelle heard her mother's sharp intake of breath at the same time that the clearing was filled with the rumble of a hundred approaching armored boots--

Estelle jerked awake, feeling as if someone had knocked the wind out of her. She felt rising panic as the clink of armor did not cease with her dream. Her breath quickened and only one thought filled her head. They were coming! She scrambled from the bed on which she lay. She wanted to scream but could only whimper as she desperately tried to untangle herself from the blankets. Her hand came down on something hard and flat. There was a small cracking noise and a jolt of strong magic ran up her arm and dissipated into the surrounding air.

The jolt brought her back to her senses. Slowly, she realized that she was in her uncle's house, laying on the same bed where she had been reading when she had fallen asleep. She lifted her hand to find that the source of the jolt of magic had been one of her aunt's books. In her frenzy, she had crushed one of the slabs of blue glass into splinters.

She looked upon the ruined technology with regret. She had rather liked those books and she felt bad about breaking something she had been given. At that thought, a twinge fear coursed through her veins. Maybe this small piece of spelled glass wasn't the only gift she was throwing away. The face of the boy who had saved her flashed before her eyes. Kratos? But he had left, she didn't owe him anything. Right?

She stood up and wandered toward the front room. She saw through a crack in the door that there were many men standing in the living room. They must have been the source of the armored footsteps. She recognized her uncle by the white and silver he wore. Such was the color of his station as elder. She opened the door a bit wider to see who else might be there but she was met swiftly by her aunt.

"Oh sweetie! you're awake!" She said in an undertone and glanced nervously at the group who paid her no mind. They were in deep and profound conversation.

"Who--" Estelle started to say but a hand gently covered her mouth.

"Estelle! You must be silent." She said in a shushed and serious tone, "Here." She handed the child a scrap of paper and pushed her towards the door, "Go get me those herbs from the garden."

"B-but--" She started to say, but she was already standing on the back porch.

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

It took a few moments for the girl to realize what Kratos meant by "Show respect for the dead"; The closest thing to a funeral she had ever attended was the violent death of her parents as she hid with Mithos not far away. Their bodies had been thrown in a mass grave with all the other half elves who shared their fate. It occurred to her that humans did have a tradition that involved staying up all night to show respect for the dead, while they may not use it on those they did not respect.

A sad smile tugged at the edges of her eyes. This person was so strange. He was so young yet he seemed so cold and he seemed so cold yet he would take so much time to do something for people he had never met while alive. It wasn't her business, but she sorely wanted to know what made someone act like this.

She reached out her hand, "My name is Martel Yggdrasil.", She said plainly, "And my little brother is Mithos," she gesture to the child on her back who slept blissfully, "It's nice to meet you."

Kratos quirked an eyebrow, such an introduction came out of the blue, "Kratos Aurion." He said without taking her hand. He walked over to the place where the family lay and sat down next to them. It was the place he intended to stay all night.

"Right." Martel said calmly and sat down next to him. For a long while, they both sat in silence. Kratos concentrated, daring himself to feel something, anything that might remind him of his humanity. He tried dredging up memories of his family but their faces were oddly blurred. Why could he remember their faces?

There was a small scuffing sound to his left and he saw that the girl, Martel, had stood up.

"What is it?" He asked her, scanning for any threat.

"It's nothing," she replied, "It's just that I think I can make them look as they did in life." She looked down heavily, "It's not fair that they should be remembered like this."

"It isn't." Kratos agreed, though he found it hard to believe that it was possible to fix such a problem. He looked up at Martel who seemed confident in her own ability. A small edge of discomfort crept up his spine, as he saw the same pure-colored light collect in the girl's hand. He had been raised to fear magic. It was the evil weapon that had allowed the elves to come to this world. To humans, It was alien and thus it should be distrusted.

But as that light spread out, he could feel nothing from it but sincere warmth. He noticed that all his aches and pains were slowly disappearing. The warmth could not reach all the way into his soul, for it was locked too far away, but he felt a bit of the ice start to melt. An old proverb about weapons only being as bad as the people who used them came to mind, it must surely apply to magic as well.

When the light faded he looked down to see that she had done just as she had said she would. Before him lay the four bodies, no, the four people, he corrected himself, they all still held a deathly pallor, but their faces and bodies were clear of the wounds that had marred them before. He leaned forward to get a closer look, but was distracted as Martel fell to a sitting position just a bit too quickly.

He looked to her sharply, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." she said breathing very hard, "I just need a moment to rest."

Kratos could see that she didn't look well, but it wasn't his place to ask any more questions. So he simply nodded.

Now that the victims looked only asleep Kratos felt more disconcerted than he had before. It was as if they could get up and move any second. It was obvious now that the taller two were a man and a woman. The man was the one with orange-red colored hair. He was obviously a Half-Elf, his face possessing Elven characteristics but overall having that human hint of roughness. He was handsome, but his expression displayed the lines and scars of someone who had lived a hard life. Even in death, his face could not look peaceful. Kratos closed his eyes and remembered many others who had lived like this man. Ceaseless determination was a quality Kratos could always respect, but hoped that this person was finally in a place where it was no longer needed. Though, something about him nagged at Kratos' mind.

"Do you know their names?" He asked Martel, who seemed to have caught her breath.

"No, I only met them once and left very quickly." She said with regret, "But I know that they were well known among my people. A Half-Elf and Elf being so in love offered the hope that maybe one day we would all fit together."

How interesting...

Kratos took a look at the woman who lay next to her husband and his whole body took one horrible turn. Yep, she was Elven all right, a smooth oval-shaped face, long white hair. She looked just like her younger brother.