Chapter Thirty-Five

Dimitte

Lloyd didn't really know what to expect once they left the Renegades' hangar. The only other time he'd been this high up in the air was during their few and far between trips on dragons, and that was solely for getting from one town to another - not to cross some sort of vague, mythical dimensional boundary (whatever that was). He was a bit nervous, but mostly super excited, as evidenced by the beaming grin on his windswept face. And simultaneously very glad to be flying behind Sheena, the only one of them who had done this before.

The Rhieards were incredibly easy and simple to pilot, with an intuitive set of handles that one pushed in a simple formation of left/right and forward/back. Those powerful turbines churning at the aircraft's heart made the cockpit rumble. Their long, batlike wings would shift and cut through the air at the slightest provocation; it almost made Lloyd want to try a backflip or a barrel roll, but Colette had been anchored to the seat behind him, and the last thing he needed was for her to fly off into the sky like a comet. Would kind of defeat the whole purpose of getting on the Rhieards in the first place.

Raine and Genis rode on their own craft just to his left, with the former acting as pilot. Raine herself seemed more interested in the mechanics of the Rhieard than how to properly fly it; more than once, Genis had to nudge her side or elbow when they started slowly veering off in one direction due to the Professor's distracted gaze. Sheena, appropriately, looked completely at ease, and almost responsible for their well-being judging by the careful looks she kept shooting them over one shoulder.

Sara seemed incredibly tense and uncomfortable, strangely enough. Given her reputation for recklessness, as well as her extensive experience at flying, Lloyd had expected her to have already mastered the art of piloting.

Much the opposite had turned out to be true. She had a death grip on the Rhieard's handles, and every little twitch and gust of air drew a bitter, astonished curse from her grimacing mouth.

Each of their aircraft was outfitted with a communicator; Lloyd pushed a large shiny button on the console in front of him, and asked, "Everything okay, Sara?"

"It's not breathing," came her pithy response. "It… it doesn't talk to me or give me feedback at all! How do I know it won't just blow up?"

"You have nothing to worry about," Sheena's voice announced on a laugh. "Rhieards are very safe, I promise!"

"Yeah, loosen up a little, Sara," Lloyd encouraged, sending her a proud grin over his shoulder. He started to ease his Rhieard towards hers. "Here, I'll show you how to-"

"Lloyd Irving I swear to gods-" A random bump of air, and more hissed cursing. "I love you, kid, but come any closer and I'll - uh, is anyone else seeing this?"

They all abruptly stared forward. And what they saw simply shouldn't have been possible; the very sky seemed to be tearing down the middle, like a cloth or a piece of paper. Between each frayed edge was a glimpse of another landscape - vast rocky mountains, an endless ocean, bright blue sky - only upside-down, and whizzing past at an equal speed.

"Ah, there it is," Sheena said. "The dimensional rift. Everyone hang on!" And she lunged her Rhieard straight into that tear - only to flip over and fly what appeared to be belly-up, but across the border was perfectly vertical.

Lloyd grinned wider. "Here we go!"

Raine laughed triumphantly. "Genis! It's really a dimensional rift! Can you believe it?!"

Genis tried to smile, but mostly held onto his sister. "Yeah, whatever you say!"

Sara covered her eyes with one hand. "You can do this, youcandothis-"

And in a few moments, Sylvarant became a mere memory.

The Sages gasped simultaneously - not from the flight, or from the new, unexplored view. But from the smack of mana, like a spray of fresh water across their skin. The very air seemed to taste better, to fill their lungs more potently. And the wind smelled like life and promise rather than dry oblivion. For a few indelible seconds, Raine closed her eyes and simply existed; no one else saw the peaceful smile on her usually stoic, if graceful face. Her sepia robes fluttered behind her like a pair of wings.

...But the contentment didn't last long. Those turbines swirling beneath their feet began to sputter and slow. What had once been a smooth path forward now felt bumpy, unsure.

"Uh…" Lloyd's eyes bulged. "Wh-what's happening?"

"I wondered if this might happen," Sheena began, the frown on her face evident even through her voice. "Since all the seals in Sylvarant have been broken, there's not enough of the appropriate mana in this world."

Sara's shriek made them all flinch: "And that means?!"

Judging by their unwanted rapid descent, Sheena didn't really have to answer, but did anyway:

"We're gonna fall!"

Their horrified screams rang out in-sync as the Rhieards shut off completely, turning into gliders rather than propulsion aircraft. Luckily, whatever area of Tethe'alla they'd entered into had a large, flat mountain that they instinctively all aimed for, and managed to skid to a mostly-safe stop on top of, with only a few scrapes and bruises on both their part and the Rheiards.

Sheena hopped off of hers first, inspecting the damage with calculating eyes as she attempted to tame her wild charcoal ponytail. Raine and Genis departed next, then Lloyd, who eased a thankfully-unharmed Colette down to the ground, where she stood silently.

Sheena really kept trying to hide her smirk as she slowly approached Sara's Rheiard; the orange-haired woman hadn't dismounted yet, and still maintained her fervent death grip on the aircraft's steering handles.

"We made it," Sheena said wryly, and offered one assisting hand. "You're not dead, I promise."

Sara cracked open one eye. It darted for Sheena and stayed there as the other one slowly opened as well.

"A little warning would've been super cool," Sara muttered, and grasped the ninja's offered hand firmly as her boots met once again with solid ground.

"Well you survived," Sheena challenged, "didn't you?"

"You might not for much longer…"

Lloyd breathed a sigh. "I think we managed to avoid destroying them completely."

"But they're useless unless we get some fuel," Genis muttered, his shoulders slumping.

"What's the fuel?" Lloyd wondered aloud. "Coal?"

"Coal?!" Sheena muffled a laugh in her forearm, though her hazel eyes couldn't hide their amused gleam. "Oh, geez, how do you guys manage to actually live in Sylvarant?"

"Then magic, I assume?" Raine offered. "Perhaps the lightning that Volt produces?"

Genis started to smile. "Then all we have to do is have Sheena summon Volt, right?"

That carefree, confident demeanor the teenage girl had worn began to wither. She cleared her throat and slid her gaze off to one side. "I… haven't made a pact with Volt."

"Oh." Lloyd frowned and rubbed the back of his head. "Then I guess we'll just have to leave these here. And I was so excited to fly them, too…"

"Bye, death machines," Sara shouted, waving a dismissive hand at the downed aircraft. "Let's get out of here. What's our first stop, Sheena?"

Sheena gestured west, over the distant plains and at a massive walled city just barely visible in the distance. It seemed made from gold, with palace spires jutting regally towards the heavens. "Well… the Imperial Research Academy in Meltokio is where most of the research on Cruxis Crystals has taken place. It would be a good place to start."

Genis carefully approached the edge of the plateau. A gust of wind nearly bowled him over, and he swallowed hard. "But we have to get down this mountain first…"

They began trekking down the winding descending path, which at times thinned precariously, so that the only possible way to pass was one person at a time. Sara went first, easing her boots along the crumbling rock, followed by Sheena, then Raine, who led Genis across with one of his hands in hers. Lloyd was forced to walk backwards as he guided a listless Colette gingerly forward. He tried mostly to avoid looking at her face, especially her hollow eyes - but he didn't have much choice now, and when they finally made it safely to the other side, he stopped walking entirely.

"Colette." He said her name once, at a normal volume; when she expectantly didn't respond, he said it again, louder, until he was shouting it at the top of his lungs, and his friends had all paused and turned towards him with wide eyes. "Hey, Colette! Can you hear me?"

Genis slowly lowered his dejected gaze to the ground. "It looks like she can't even tell you're talking to her right now."

Lloyd had been holding onto the Chosen's hands still. He finally dropped them. "Dammit. At that moment, facing the decision between Colette and the world…" He spat his last words with disgust. "For a split second, I chose the world. Even though it's nothing but a false peace."

"It was unavoidable," Raine said gently. "When a single decision you make could destroy the world, casually choosing your friend's life instead would've been a careless choice indeed."

"Still, at that moment, I abandoned Colette." Lloyd shook his head slowly and tried to bite back a few bitter tears. Colette's empty eyes were staring at him unbearably. "I'm a hypocrite, dammit…"

He heard a few footsteps, and then a familiar raspy voice just behind him. "What would she say, Lloyd?"

He looked back at Sara. "What?"

"You're getting all caught up in your opinion of yourself," she continued, "without stopping to think what Colette would think about you right now."

Lloyd turned back to the Chosen. Tried to remember her tiny smile, to hear her musical laugh. "...She would probably tell me I'm doing the best I can. And that she's proud of me."

"Then remember that," Sara said resolutely. "Remember what she thinks of you. Because she's still in there, somewhere. And by beating yourself up, you're just forgetting about her."

Little by little, Lloyd nodded. "...You're right. Colette, I'm sorry. I promise I'll do everything I can." His voice dropped low; his palms began to yearn for the hilts of his swords. "And I'll make Kratos pay for this."

Sara seemed to crumple. She'd been focusing intently on Lloyd, but now turned away and looked everyplace else.

"He was deceiving us from the very beginning," Genis added petulantly.

Raine's lips thinned into an uneasy frown. "I had thought there was something strange about him. But in the end… I couldn't figure it out in time."

Lloyd had started to think that the rocky mountain face beside him would be a good place to plant his shivering fist. "As we blindly went ahead with the so-called Journey of Regeneration, he was just laughing at us the whole time."

"I wonder," Raine was muttering quietly. "The things he said, especially… Lloyd? I felt a gentleness in the words he spoke to you."

Lloyd snorted. "Kratos, gentle? You've got to be kidding."

"Still, it's true," Sheena began, staring down at her own Exsphere. "It's hard to believe the things he said to us after the Asgard ranch were spoken by a cold-hearted angel of Cruxis." She cautiously looked up and over at Sara, who still had her back turned to all of them. "And Sara, it always seemed like you two got along-"

"Stop this," she barked.

Sheena and Lloyd both flinched slightly at her sudden, harsh tone. Sara didn't look at any of them, and instead started walking again, motioning stiffy for them to follow.

"Rehashing the past won't help Colette. Keep moving."

Sheena met Lloyd's equally-surprised gaze, her eyebrows raised. But they did as she said, and began descending the mountain once more.

They continued downward mostly in silence, avoiding cliffs, boulders and the occasional monster that sprang from the shadows, whether it was a grumpy bear or a territorial wolf. Using her staff as a walking stick, Raine gradually made her way forward until she was shoulder-to-shoulder with Sara, who acknowledged her presence with only a quick, stony glance.

"Are you alright?" the Professor asked.

Sara's jaw tensed. "What?"

Empathy wasn't exactly Raine's strong suit, but she tried her best to offer it somehow through a soft voice and what she hoped was a kind expression. "Ever since the Tower of Salvation, you've been-"

"I know," Sara cut in swiftly. Her claws clicked together as she absently curled and uncurled her fingers. "And I can assure you that it's not jeopardizing our mission, okay? If anything, it's just more fuel for me to keep going."

Several tense seconds passed in silence. Sara wouldn't look at her, and the stiffness to the dragon tamer's shoulders hadn't eased.

"I'm not asking for strategic or evaluation purposes," Raine said mildly. "I'm asking… as a friend." And she hoped that was good enough, straightforward enough to bring about an honest answer.

"No," Sara ground out. Her voice cracked, but she tried to cover it by clearing her throat. "The answer is no. I'm… not alright at all."

"...I see." Raine sighed and briefly closed her eyes. "I'm sorry."

Sara kept blinking rapidly and hid her eyes in her bangs. But she smiled, just a little, as they kept walking together.

"Thanks, Raine. Can I ask you something too?"

The Professor deliberately straightened her back. "Yes, of course."

"It must have been hard to keep Colette's secret this whole time." She paused, and glanced back at the Chosen quickly. "When did you first know?"

It took Raine a few moments to figure out how to answer. "From the beginning. So did she. Earlier, even - the Chosen is told of her fate at ten years old. So for the past six years, Colette knew she would have to give up her life."

"Didn't she ever say anything? To you or any of the Church?"

"About what?"

"Not wanting to die." Sara slowly shook her head. "Just something, any kind of protest against her fate?"

Raine quickly found that answering that question was one of the hardest things she ever had to say.

"No. ...Never."

Meltokio looked closer from the mountain.

On foot, on Tethe'alla's vast plains of verdant grass and hills, the trip took well into the evening, until nightfall began to darken the foreign sky. There were monsters, too, pretty much everywhere, not unlike Sylvarant; Sheena had explained that this didn't used to be the case. But since their journey to break all of Sylvarant's seals had been successful, Tethe'alla's mana had declined just enough for bad things to crawl their way from the world's shadows once more.

The flourishing world had their own travelers' inns scattered throughout the landscape. Here, though, they were called Houses of Guidance, and much like everything else in Tethe'alla, were better-made and more comfortable than their Sylvaranti counterparts. Though Meltokio was not far, the group had decided to stop at one of these inns for the night and take a much-needed rest.

Sheena was equal parts glad and terrified to be back in her homeland. Though she was well-accustomed to a life of new cities and challenges, returning to something familiar never failed to provide a certain level of comfort. But returning here also meant many unpleasant things - of having to admit her failure as the Chosen's assassin, of explaining why she returned with the Chosen herself. And then admitting to her village that success had once again slipped through her clumsy fingers.

All of these things kept her awake; this had become an unwelcome trend. Corinne sat in his usual spot on her shoulder, every now and then asking if she was alright or why she couldn't sleep ("I'm fine. Just can't."). The manmade Summon Spirit clearly didn't believe a word she said, but he knew by now that prodding wouldn't get him anywhere. So he spent most of his time sitting silently, his poofy blue tails twisting around her shoulders, his tiny nose and whiskers tickling the side of her neck.

Pacing seemed to be the only thing that kind of tampered her wild thoughts, and that's what she was doing now, back and forth across the House's front lawn. Just repeated slow, even steps that one-by-one forced her mind in order-

"What's Meltokio like?"

The question nearly made her jump out of her skin; she whipped around awkwardly to face Lloyd, who had taken a seat at one of the picnic tables next to the House's front wall. He met her addled gaze with a broad smile.

Sheena quickly righted herself and smiled too. "Well, it's giant. Sylvarant doesn't have anything like it. Even Palmacosta is only probably a fourth of its size."

Lloyd blinked. "Wow, I can't even imagine a place that big. I'm so excited to see it!"

His happiness was contagious. Sheena meandered towards the table and took a seat across from him. "Yeah, there's even a Coliseum where you can win money and prizes for fighting. It's a big tourist attraction. And the Royal Palace is really pretty. I've only ever seen the throne room, but I hear it has over a hundred bedrooms."

Lloyd's eyes widened. "W-wow. Why would anyone need a hundred bedrooms?"

Corrine jumped deftly from Sheena's shoulder and sat down on the table between them. "For parties!"

"Parties?" Lloyd parroted.

Sheena breathed a laugh. "Corrine's not wrong. Meltokio is Tethe'alla's social hub. The King and Tethe'alla's Chosen throw lots of soirees there. To the public, it's just a party, but to the people invited, it's one big business meeting."

A few seconds passed where Lloyd drummed his fingertips pensively against the tabletop. "So Tethe'alla has a Chosen, too, huh? What's she like?"

"He," Sheena corrected dryly. "He's nothing at all like Colette."

"He thinks Sheena's cute," Corrine added cheerfully.

Sheena blushed furiously and just barely fought off the urge to shove Corrine clear off the table. But Lloyd only stared at her with innocent curiosity. "Oh, so you've met him before?"

"Unfortunately," Sheena grumbled. "He's an idiot. I can't stand that guy."

"I dunno," Lloyd began, casually stretching his arms over his head with a grin. "He doesn't sound so bad. I mean, who wouldn't think you're cute?"

Her jaw dropped as a torrent of butterflies erupted in her stomach. He said that so easily, so casually… For a terrifying moment she almost returned the compliment, but then bit her tongue and managed to swallow her voice.

Instead, she shot to her feet like the seat had forcefully ejected her. "Um. Uh, well. I… should go to bed. It's pretty late. Come on, Corrine."

"But I'm not tired, Sheena-"

"Come on, Corrine."

The creature sighed, then gave Lloyd's hand a parting nuzzle. "Goodnight, Sheena's friend~!"

"Oh," Lloyd said, bewildered. "Okay. Goodnight then, Sheena." She waved back at him stiffly as she headed inside.

Now alone, Lloyd peered up at the moon and rested his jaw on one fist with a sigh.

"...Girls are weird."

Sara couldn't sleep, either. But that was nothing new.

She had no idea how long she'd spent lying on her back staring at the ceiling. Hours, probably. It had to be late; the others had turned in long ago, and the dim streaks of light the moon had cast across the floor had shifted quite a bit from the last time she'd looked. The fire in the brick hearth across the room had been egged on by her breath a few too many times; only a few smoldering piles of ash remained.

The room had grown cold as a result. Much like the dragons she'd cared for most of her life, there was little that Sara hated more than being cold. So she forced herself to her feet, her joints stiff from inactivity, and over to the pile of spare firewood sitting in the corner. She was just picking up the first piece when the sound of the front door opening made her breath hitch.

She whipped around, brandishing the slab of wood like a weapon above her head, ready to smash it in the intruder's face-

Unvexed, as always, Kratos simply closed the door behind him. He had changed outfits since they last saw each other, and was now donning a white and blue suit accented by a network of golden belts that cris-crossed his chest and torso. In this quiet room, and over Sara's tightly-held breath, the sound of the door's latch clicking closed felt monstrous.

The seraph stared at her, his head held high, expectant. She still had the wood poised and ready over her head, and wanted to let it launch forth pretty damn badly - but she forced her arms to lower slowly, until the log slid from her hands and thunked uselessly to the floor.

"What the fuck," she began quietly, calmly, like a gathering storm, "are you doing here?"

His garnet eyes thinned. "...I was expecting a far more violent reaction."

The snarl that leaked through her gritted teeth was only partially human. "That can be arranged."

For several moments, he simply looked at her. To the average observer, she would undoubtedly appear totally terrifying - murderous rage did little in the way of making one more approachable - but that's exactly what he did, anyway, when he took a step closer to her and met her embroiled stare with one of resigned purpose.

"If you would give me the chance, Sara," he said softly, "I wish to explain everything."

"You don't need to, Kratos." Saying his name felt strange, foreign. "I already know."

He tilted his head just barely to one side in an unspoken question.

"You trained me," she continued. "This whole time. The fire magic. The amulet. Controlling the demons. You trained me to fight you, didn't you?"

He wanted so badly to avert his eyes from hers, but forced them to stay put. "Yes. I did."

"For Lloyd," she went on, stifling a watery sigh. "It was always to protect Lloyd, wasn't it?"

Kratos nodded. The room was rather dark, and the way the moonlight pooled along the side of her face and down her neck would have, in another lifetime, been dizzyingly enticing.

"When you told me that he was your nephew, I knew you would only be that much more motivated to keep him safe-"

"When did you know?"

He frowned. Finally dropped his gaze to the floor. "There are far too many answers to that question. Which one do you seek?"

"That he's your son."

Kratos' breath caught. His eyes flew up to hers again, searching desperately.

Her question meant that she knew everything, but the look on her face was what truly confirmed it.

Someone had clearly had a nice, long chat with Yuan.

"A week before we met," Kratos admitted. His voice felt like churning, dry gravel. "When I first saw… her grave."

Sara took a few steps backwards. It seemed necessary, like his presence was crushing the air from her lungs. She fidgeted idly with the hem of her skirt as she looked him up and down repeatedly - and he felt a sense of wonderment, of complete disbelief when he saw her start to smile.

"She told me about you, Kratos. Anna told me all about you."

His head started to spin. He closed his eyes for a moment to right the world. "...I did not even know she had a sister."

"Of course not," Sara murmured bitterly. "Keeping my existence a secret was the best way to protect me."

Right. The Angelus Project. Naturally, Sara would have been next in line. "Then how…"

"She wrote me letters, ever since she got taken to the ranch, and for the next three years." And Sara was still smiling at him, somehow. "She told me an underground resistance network delivered the letters for her. That they helped a lot of people from the ranches."

The Renegades. Kratos frowned harder. "I see."

"She could never tell me your name, though," Sara went on quietly. "To protect you. But she said you saved her. You loved her unconditionally. You fought for her when no one else would. You gave her a beautiful son-"

"Stop."

Kratos reached for the nearest chair and collapsed into it. He raised one hand to his face, his fingers trembling. "...Please, stop."

"She called you her Hero," Sara finished gently.

He felt sick. Sara's mere presence scalded him like the hottest fire, like spitting lava. Kratos turned away, instead focusing on the distant stars. "...I am far from that title."

"But you rescued her." She kept shaking her head adamantly; he could feel her staring at him, in unrelenting, nauseating admiration. "You saved her from the ranch. From those experiments-"

"Sara."

She stilled. Swallowed hard. "Yeah?"

Slowly, bit by bit, cinnamon eyes met chocolate. "Do you know how she died?"

It took a moment, but she found her voice again. It was low, muddy. "No. Not exactly. All I heard from the other prisoners were vague details. I always figured it was because of the experiments. The Angelus Project. That her body just… gave up."

He didn't have to say anything. He knew this. He should speak, though - should freely offer the truth. Sara deserved only this, as painful as it was - of how he murdered her sister, of the way Anna's blood had stained his sword and splattered to the ground-

"...Kratos?"

"I killed her," he muttered.

She inhaled sharply. Took another step back. "...What? What do you-"

"I killed Anna," he emphasized. Just to make sure they were clear. That she knew every raw, necessary shred of the truth.

"No," Sara was saying fervently. He heard that snarl bubble up again, vibrating carnally at the back of her throat. "No, wait. Just… Why?"

The past surged forth. Kratos' mind was no longer here. It reached far back, to a dark day, full of so many things he wished he could forget. He absently gripped the edges of the wooden chair he sat on, like it anchored him to the earth.

"...I could not protect her."

"No. Kvar." Sara was shaking her head firmly. "I was there with you, that night in Asgard. You said Kvar turned her into the monster. Kvar did it."

"We were always pursued."
"I know that."

"Eventually, Kvar and his men caught up with us."

"I know that, too."

He spoke so softly, in such a harsh whisper that he wondered if she would hear at all: "I… couldn't fight them all. Kvar attacked. He removed her Exsphere, and she… turned into a monster."

Though it looked like it almost ended her, Sara nodded. "Keep going."

"She hung on," Kratos heard himself say. "Her consciousness remained. Anna begged me to… but I couldn't-"

"Lloyd was there?"

"Yes." Was his voice wavering? His eyes watering? Surely, not. After that day, he didn't think it was possible anymore. "She lost control, and tried to attack him, so I…"

Sara's knees buckled. She threw out one hand towards the windowsill, digging her fingers into its edge to remain standing.

"Oh, Kratos. Oh, gods, no-"

"I had to defend our son." Kratos stood, somehow. The sound of his clothes shifting felt deafening. He seemed to tower above Sara; she looked ready to shatter at his slightest word, so small and fragile-

He corrected this immediately.

Kratos sank to one knee. He gently took her hand and brought it to his forehead.

"I killed her, Sara."

His eyes slammed closed. His throat quavered. He kept gripping Sara's fingers with all the strength he dared to muster, and pressed his brow into her knuckles.

"...Forgive me."

Sara said nothing. He could feel her staring down at him. His wings burst from his spine, flaring and swaying softly, filling the dim room with crystalline, ice-blue light; he wanted her to see all of him, so that no stone between them was left unturned.

"She and Lloyd fell down the cliffs of the Iselia Forest," Kratos continued raggedly, "and I… I couldn't find them. I'm sorry. There were so many monsters. I thought-"

"Get up," Sara commanded.

Her steely voice crashed into him like a whip, lashing against his back. He felt so small; in a way, it was nothing but comforting, appropriate. Kratos simply held her hand tighter.

"It was the same sword," he managed. "The same I lent you, that day we met. That ended your dragons. And it was raining-"

"Get. Up." Her snarl resurfaced. The moonlight waned abruptly, casting the room in churning shadow. "Now."

Kratos rose to his feet. Familiar emptiness began to settle over him once again, numbing every bit of him, like the coldest breeze. He let go of her hand; the door felt like welcome escape. He made for it, his auburn head bowed.

"I understand," he said. "I shall leave."

But her hand shot forward and took hold of his wrist. And though it made no sense whatsoever, he heard her raspy voice say: "I'm so sorry."

...What?

"That must've killed you," Sara continued. And her voice was impossibly soft, impossibly tender. "To have to do that, to lose everything… I'm so sorry."

No. Just… no.

There was no way she was saying that. She clearly must have misunderstood him somewhere.

It took forever for his dry throat to work: "But I am the one that-"

"Stop it." Her eyes locked onto his magnetically, though they were full of tears. "You did what you had to do. None of it was your fault, Kratos. I know. She told me what they did to her."

Sara kept holding onto his wrist. And her fingers worked their way beneath his sleeve, and the edge of his glove, until their tips traced along the base of his palm in unbelievable, comforting caresses.

"It's taken fifteen years, but now I know. I can rest. In the end, Anna died with someone she loved. That's enough for me."

"How can you-" Kratos remembered abruptly the last time he felt this helpless, this vulnerable. And it involved a tiny, squirming brown-haired bundle in his arms. "I helped form the Desians. I helped create the program that ruined your lives. That ruined her-"

"Don't ever compare yourself to them," Sara spat. "I know who you are. And you are nothing like them, Kratos."

He couldn't stand the way she was touching him. He lurched his hand back. Took a step towards the door. Only barely managed to avoid opening it and darting into the night.

"...I am a coward."

"Shut up." Sara positioned herself in front of the door, like she'd heard his thoughts. She shoved hard at his chest. "Get over yourself! Is this how you want to honor her memory? By constantly crying about all of your failures?"

"I did fail," he muttered. "I failed her. I failed Lloyd. I failed you-"

"Listen to yourself!" Sara's arm raised, like her fist wanted to crash into his face. But she held fast. "You tried, dammit! That's what matters! Be proud of the difficult things you were able to do. Be proud of how you loved her, Kratos. She called you her Hero for a reason. I know she did! I read all about it!"

He kept looking away, scowling, barely standing. Tried his damnedest to ignore her.

Remained clearly unconvinced.

So Sara took in a purposeful breath, and decided at once to brandish her most potent offense:

"'It's happening,'" she recited. "'A few days from now, I'm leaving this place with my Hero. Can you believe it? He is so kind and gentle, so understanding. A bit awkward at times, but that doesn't matter. We have grown close, and all that you need to know is that he's going to save me.'"

Anna's words. These were Anna's words-

"I memorized all of her letters word-for-word, Kratos, and don't doubt for one second I'll keep going until you believe me."

He gripped the chair tighter, until its unwilling edges threatened to splinter in his palms. But he said nothing, though each dip and bounce of her raspy voice flayed his skin, crushed his chest.

"'His kindness always overwhelms me," Sara went on. "'I don't know how I got so lucky to meet him. He's so strong and compassionate, so focused on ensuring our safety, though he's gone against all he's ever known just to save me.'"

More silence. Then Sara issued forth a caustic, challenging laugh:

"Alright. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Kratos finally turned to face her. His fingers formed indecisive, rigid claws that wanted to smother her mouth as much as they desired to cradle her face. He started to plead for silence once more - but he was too late, and far too powerless to stop her:

"'Our little boy came kicking and screaming into this world yesterday, and Sis, he's so beautiful, I wish you were here to see him. I think he looks more like his daddy, but daddy swears he looks like me. It was so amazing to hold my little boy for the first time. And to see him in his daddy's arms for the first time, too-"

"Stop," Kratos begged, drowning, scrambling for air.

She did. Her breaths were heaving, but she stayed silent, and stared fearlessly into his elusive, dark eyes.

"Please stop," he repeated softly. "I can't, Sara. ...No more."

He watched silently as her hands made their way to his chest - gently, this time. Her palms pressed there, just beneath both of his collarbones.

"It's okay," Sara said. She peered over his shoulders, at his shimmering wings; their muted light cast soft shadows across her freckled face. "It's a choice. She always told me happiness was a choice. Choose the good stuff. Choose the best world. It doesn't have to be so bad, Kratos."

She smelled bright and wonderful - so comforting, so familiar. The gleam of her hair in the moonlight was unbearably gorgeous, as was the soft shine of her dark skin. Her forgiveness, though, was by far the hardest to witness.

Kratos felt like he were balancing on the edge of a knife - and faced suddenly with an impossible chance at a life he didn't deserve.

"There's so much good, too," she said unsteadily. "I've read it all. Please, just let things be okay. I can't be the only one." Her fingertips curled into his chest. "I can't be okay all alone."

He held his breath. Closed his eyes. His wings vanished, coating them both in darkness once more.

His betrayal. All of those secrets. The curse of those wings. The gash he'd left on Lloyd's head, and the grave at the boy's house, and… the list went on endlessly.

But after all of this - if Sara was okay, then… maybe Kratos could be, too.

He exhaled slowly, allowing doubt to swim away with with his breath. "Well. What now?"

Sara laughed. It was kind of a snort, actually, and entirely out of place. And it shattered his tension like a rock through glass.

"Are… are you seriously asking me that?" One of her eyebrows shot up curiously, skeptically. "Why are you even here? Wouldn't it piss your leader Yiggy off to know that you're with me?"

He frowned at her hopelessly. "...Lord Yggdrasill is unaware of my presence here."

One of her hands on his chest formed a fist. Except for the middle finger, of course, which raised up at his face. "Shut up. I'm bad with names."

"I must admit," Kratos began, looking for all the world like a scolded, shameful schoolboy, "when it comes to you, Sara, I… tend to do things against my better judgment."

She shrugged, carefree, and stuck out her bottom lip. "Love can make you do stupid things."

One corner of his mouth twitched. "Stay with Lloyd. Guide him. Guard him. See him through until the end."

He watched her face ease into a familiar, wonderful mask of determination. "That was my intention from the beginning."

"There are things I still must do to ensure your mission's success." Things, right. That would have to do. "Things that require my loyalty to Lord Yggdrasill."

Her eyes thinned. "So you're really on our side, then?"

"You know only half of my story, Sara." He leaned forward a little, into her palms. "The other half awaits you at a later time."

"More secrets, Kratos?"

He started to say something, but then thought better of it. And instead just nodded, with a long, tired, four thousand year-old sigh.

Sara crossed her arms and frowned at him intently. "Just answer one question for me before you go."

He stilled, his chest tightening uncomfortably.

There were so many things she had the right to ask now, that she by all rights should question him over - his very loyalty to Anna? His reasons for aligning with Cruxis in the first place? Why he had chosen to abandon his son?-

"What's with you and belts? This outfit is ridiculous."

The seraph's mouth hung open. "...Er. Well. It is-"

"How do you even get in and out of it?" Sara started tugging at the various belts, her eyes narrowed in curiosity. "Like, what if you have to pee?"

Kratos helplessly scratched the back of his head. "Th-there are garment customs-"

Snap. Sara managed to undo one of them. "Ohh, I see. So it goes like this..." She grinned triumphantly. "Alright, that's kind of hot, actually-"

Kratos took hold of both her wrists and immobilized them before he ended up half-naked.

"Is this truly what you want?" he asked softly.

"I told you before - I don't care about your secrets." She paused, and he watched intently as one edge of her lips twitched into a cynical smirk. "But I'll admit I thought you were being over-dramatic when you dropped your whole 'there is much you don't know about me' thing. Like maybe you were just in a ton of debt. Or you had some psycho exes out for your balls."

"More's the pity," Kratos mumbled morbidly.

"But this, well… You definitely weren't exaggerating."

"Unfortunately." His thumbs eased into her palms, and drifted slowly back and forth, from pinky to thumb. "This is just the beginning, Sara."

"I know. Whatever you tell me to do, I'll do it. For Lloyd, and for fixing this mess of a world." She sent him a positively infuriating wink. "Even if it means almost killing you again."

Kratos deliberately cleared his throat. "...I had the situation under control."

"Bullshit you did." Her grin was arrogant, mischievous. "I could've burned your head clean off-"

"Merely an act for Lord Yggdrasill."

"Pfffft. Whatever, jerk-face. You got owned."

He brought her hand to his chin, and muffled both his words and a snide smirk against her curled fingers. "I see your vocabulary is as lackluster as ever."

"Yeah, well, at least I'm not wearing an outfit that belongs in a bondage dungeon."

"...Humph."

Her lighthearted smile sobered. She stared down at their linked hands.

"...Thank you." She sucked in a quick breath. "In all seriousness, though - thank you, Kratos. For saving her. For protecting Lloyd. For having the strength to… f-for doing what she wanted."

Kratos nodded. Then he sighed - and truly, wholly straightened unburdened shoulders for the first time in fifteen years.

She abruptly let go of him and gestured to the front door. "Now. Get out of here before you get us both killed."

Kratos started towards the doorknob, but stopped just before twisting it open. "Sara. Lloyd must keep his distance from me. You must not tell him about me, for his own sake."

"I won't," she assured. "Not until you're ready. I promise."

Slowly, he opened the door. He wanted many things equally - to kiss her. To love her once more, with all the strength his body could offer. And to run far away, never to see her again.

So he settled for: "Two days. I will return to you. ...Keep him safe."

She squared her shoulders and smiled a little, in that familiar way that wordlessly said I got this. "Always. No matter what. Take care of yourself."

His wings reappeared, raining drops of light onto the ground. Kratos took two steps forward, then launched into the air, melding with the night, vanishing among the stars.

Sara sank back against the closed door. Her hands flew to her face, where they covered both a joyous, exalted grin and a strained sob. She slid slowly to the floor, knees pulled up to her chest.

"I-it's all good now, Sissy," she choked against one palm. "It's all so good."

Zelos Wilder had never thought this hard about paperclips before.

He sat hunched at a grand marble desk, sky-blue eyes narrowed intently as both his thumbs and forefingers coaxed a pair of the aforementioned thin metal objects into something resembling a butterfly. Two wings, and a kind of lopsided oval-shaped body - yep, perfect. Really, he needed a third paperclip to form antennae, because the whole thing just felt incomplete otherwise.

He set his jaw; it was thin, graceful, and covered in smooth peach skin, just like the rest of his lithe figure. He squared a pair of bare, sculpted shoulders. His gaze shot to the left, where a young woman sat in rich purple robes. She had gorgeous flowing brown hair that fell in thick curls down a graceful back. Her green eyes had spent little time looking anywhere other than the side of his face; this was nothing new to him.

She smiled wantonly now that she had his attention. Zelos noticed immediately that her nose tended to wrinkle with the curl of her lips. She puffed out her already ample chest a little more, too, like that would garner more of his favor.

She had the same packet of paper sitting in front of her that had been forced upon him. And really, he just wanted her paperclip.

Zelos smiled back. Winked once. He leaned a little closer to the girl; her soft face fairly exploded in a blush that tried valiantly to match his gleaming crimson hair.

Surreptitiously, seductively, he slid one gloved arm in her direction; she watched it with airtight intensity. Zelos extended his first finger. Planted it on top of the packet of paper beside her curled, anxious hands. And slowly, little by little, dragged the whole thing across the desk until it came to rest in front of him.

He nibbled excitedly on his lower lip as he removed the spare paperclip. The woman let out an astonished, embroiled scoff that he ignored completely. He was still grinning as he completed his butterfly and raised it before his eyes, antennae and all. Zelos shot the girl a curious glance; her green-eyed stare now darted everywhere else, to the other higher-ups in the room, to the few empty velvet-red chairs, to the Pope himself as he droned on in a dreadful, familiar tone about this and that and literally everything Zelos gave no shits about.

Zelos had just started to make his butterfly's wings flap when he heard that same familiar voice call his name: "...-osen One? What is your opinion on this matter?"

Dozen of Tethe'alla's most important eyes now zoomed in on him with scalding calculation.

Well, shit.

Maybe he should've been paying a little bit more attention.

Zelos swiftly set his butterfly down and flipped through a few of the pages in front of him. He pursed his lips, tilted his chin with scholarly certainty, and nodded like he knew all the secrets to life itself.

"Hmm, indeed. Clearly, this situation should be approached with much care and caution." Yeah, sure. That'd work.

A hushed murmur and a chorus of nodding heads meant he'd said something right. Zelos exhaled an involuntary sigh of relief as one side of his mouth tugged into a victorious grin.

"The Chosen speaks the truth," a voice somewhere to his left said. Belonging to some duke or second removed cousin of the Pope or a dude who just happened to be sleeping with the right woman- "The travelers from Sylvarant should be brought before the King."

Oh, that was what everyone had been talking about?

Okay, so Zelos was a little interested now. Miss Green-Eyes was sending him a glare backed by the fires of hell as he sat up elegantly and steepled his hands beneath his chin.

"When are they set to arrive?" Zelos asked smoothly.

"Within the hour," whoever answered.

And the Chosen shot immediately to his feet, using his gloved hand to sweep long hair ceremoniously over one shoulder. "Well, then. I should be getting ready to greet them, neh?"

The Pope's tall golden hat squelched to one side over a wrinkled, moist forehead. "B-but, surely, the King himself should-"

"I'll be there for moral support." Zelos strode gracefully past a host of seated officials and made for the auditorium's exit. "Tell His Majesty to expect my presence, what was it? Within the hour?"

"Y-yes, Chosen One. I shall join you as well-"

"Mmkay, sure." Damn, he forgot his sculpture… he waved at them, like returning to his seat and swiping the butterfly into one of the pockets of his loose white pants was totally, 100% normal. "This has been most illuminating. Thank you all."

More useless murmurs swam across his ears as he left the auditorium. A whole bunch of crushed red velvet carpet and opulent white marble walls swept by his constantly astute gaze. And Zelos continued onward alone, smiling with practiced grace, idly adjusting the white headband across his forehead like it were a permanent fixture. Which, really, it was. Something had to tame all of his thick volcanic hair. He left it long on purpose; for whatever reason, it seemed in favor with the ladies. Even though it outshone all of their own heads pretty stupendously.

For the past few months Tethe'alla's King had been suffering from a mysterious, gradually-worsening illness. The thin, bearded man hadn't been truly well for awhile now, and permitted audiences only under the most pressing and interesting of circumstances. Which this had been deemed, apparently; Zelos made for the throne room and cracked open the side door just a little, so that he could stick one blue eye up to the opening and evaluate the situation a little before making his presence known. Zelos Wilder was a lot of things, but a fool was not one of them.

The Plump Pope (Zelos had come up with that nickname himself and was rather proud of it) and a handful of his gleaming knights were just entering through the main doors. Of course. Couldn't be too careful, especially when dealing with what everyone considered the 'savages from the declining world.' Zelos had never been to Sylvarant, and hadn't ever wanted to. It sounded super boring. And probably smelly, not unlike Meltokio's own slums.

From this angle, he could only see part of this group of so-called savages. He recognized Sheena instantly; he'd know that fuzzy black ponytail and those luscious curves anywhere. Just behind her stood a younger kid with wild silver hair, and a twentysomething woman in pretty demure orange robes that had to be related to the kid, judging by the same frown on her elegant face and the similar pearly tint to her hair.

And then there was a teenage boy in a red… something. And he had these baggy black pants, and thick windswept chocolate-brown hair, and - okay, yeah. Those really were suspenders. Zelos bit his lips together and stifled a chortle. Suspenders. Savages, indeed.

It was hard to make out the other two, so he ventured the door open just a tiny bit more. A fiery orange head instantly caught his attention. It was attached to a tall, terrifying woman with dark skin and a pair of gauntlets with deadly spikes on them. In all honesty she probably had more muscle mass than Zelos did, which simultaneously fanned the flames of his interest and sent up plenty of blips on his Don't Fuck With That radar.

Between Miss Terrifying and Kid Suspenders stood the last of them - a waifish blonde girl. With crystalline, sunset-hued wings.

That had to be their Chosen. Zelos widened his eyes in a bit of genuine shock.

Someone had started talking; it took him a few moments to realize it was the King. "Let us begin. Where is the Chosen of Mana?"

Zelos grinned, and threw open the door with a grandiose swing of one arm.

"Right here, your Majesty."

A/N: *Inhales*

ZELOSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

That is all.