Chapter Forty-Three

Salvus


And in the cold light, I'll live, I'll only live for you
It's all that I am; it's all that I have


Her muscles burned. Her chest ached. Fresh drops of perspiration beaded along her hairline and the back of her tense neck. She dug her fingertips into the tile floor - and with a growling, livid curse, Sara managed one more push-up.

Then she flopped onto her belly like a beached whale. A smiling, exhausted, orange-haired beached whale.

Gingerly, as she smoothed her bangs back from her forehead, Sara rolled over onto her back and laughed up at the ceiling. The floor was slick and cool and felt delicious against her heated skin.

It had been a week since she'd been put in this room. In one week, she had gone from barely being able to stand upright or lift her own arms, to something at least resembling her former self. Not only had her dragons' Exspheres been taken from her - which in and of itself made her feel like an utterly useless sack of lard - but then this parasitic purple gem had been put on her back, and it had tried its damnedest to eat up literally all of her energy and strength.

Yeah, fuck that.

Sara had given it a run for its money.

Well - except for the puking. And the insomnia. And the occasional bouts of crying for no reason. Sara's grin hardened into a bitter smirk. Growing an Exsphere was a lot like being pregnant, apparently, if Anna's descriptions had been an accurate depiction. Complete with the cravings for strange foods (yesterday it had been green olives; 'I thought you hated these,' Kratos had said. 'I do,' Sara told him, as she ate her second handful). At least with pregnancy, though, the result was something soft, squishy and sort of cute. The Exsphere would always just sit there, silent and still, and terribly boring.

The door to her cell slid open; Kratos entered, all long legs, messy burgundy hair and goofy golden belts. He didn't bother giving her a strange look when he saw her laying spread-eagle on the floor - prior to her imprisonment, Sara was already rather attention-deficit, and keeping her sequestered in this small room had meant he'd had found her in a variety of peculiar situations. Up to and including literally trying to climb the walls, if only to see what the ceiling 'felt like.'

He had a plastic crate in his arms, now; he gently set this down on the table before offering her one hand.

"You are being released today," Kratos told her.

Sara took his hand and lurched to her feet. And it didn't matter how much time had passed, or what they both had gone through; the simple action of his fingers easing between hers felt indelibly glorious, and never ceased to make her chest bubble. Sara smiled stupidly as she approached the table and the crate he'd brought and peered into it.

Amusement vanished into astonishment. She widened her eyes and dropped her jaw.

Her gauntlets. Her claws. Her beloved embroidered teal duster and her shirt - and even the amulet Kratos had given her a lifetime ago in Sylvarant.

"Yiggy's giving me back all of this?" Sara breathed.

"No." One corner of Kratos' mouth pricked in a tiny smile. "I am."

She immediately leaned in and kissed it. "What about my dragons?"

"You can't wear them yet." Kratos took one of her hands, and idly traced the pad of his thumb across the surface of her empty Key Crest. His brow furrowed worriedly. "Not with the new Exsphere's influence. The mana in your body would go out of control. Once your new Exsphere is safely removed, you will have your dragons back."

Sara sighed. "Dammit. I miss them so much."

"You will see them again," he assured quietly.

She picked up her right gauntlet, and kneaded one of its leather straps affectionately between her fingertips. She frowned.

"What do I tell Lloyd?"

Kratos frowned, too. "About what?"

Sara knew Lloyd. If she knew anything in this world - she knew that kid.

His vital, immeasurable will. And his temper - because damn it all if they didn't share the same blood, and the same curse of stubbornness.

Sara loved Lloyd for it. Among, like, literally everything else about him. And at the same time she knew, without a doubt, exactly how much trouble it could get him in.

"He's going to see," Sara murmured. "Lloyd's not dumb. He's going to ask about all of this. About why you are there." All traces of contentment vanished from her freckled face. Sara glared hard into the seraph's garnet eyes.

"He's going to want to kill you," she finished deliberately.

"I will handle that."

"Will you?" That leather strap now crunched in her curled fist. "How will you handle it?"

Sara had to give him credit, here. Kratos didn't look guilty anymore. Just pensive and tense, which was exceedingly favorable over fragile and hurt.

"I will never hurt him," Kratos ground out. "Not beyond what I know he can survive."

Survive? Seriously?

This was where she wanted to darken the room. Where the light along her back was supposed to flicker and wane, and her claws would shoot out, and her earthen eyes would become a murky, churning shade of black. Because nothing - nothing in this world summoned her demons more ferociously than the desire to protect her sister's only child.

Even if it was from his own father.

But something wasn't right. The darkness stayed just out of reach, though she strained for it, to dip her fingertips into his beautiful black depths. Sara's breath lurched to a halt just before it reached her tongue. "Oh, hell. I can't, anymore. I can't."

"Can't what?"

"I can't feel them anymore, Kratos."

He waited for her elaboration as he idly fussed with her bangs and tucked them behind her ear.

"The demons," Sara continued wrathfully. "It was just like you said. I got so used to them. I accepted them. I wanted them." She snarled back over one shoulder. "But ever since this thing, they're gone. And to top all of this off: it's taking away all of my strength. How do I fight anymore?"

"You will not have to fight," Kratos answered evenly. "I have been ordered to protect you by Lord Yggdrasill. Recovering is your only task now."

Solely relying on someone else for her own safety? Yeah, no. Even if that protector was Kratos - that fit as well with Sara as a square peg in a round hole. She immediately shook her head. "I can't stand that. I can't stand it-"

"You must. For the Exsphere."

Sara turned her back to him. Her sore, angry back. She tore off the sack that had served as a shirt for the last of her days here. Tore. As in, left it in beautiful brown shreds at her feet. And she pointedly replaced it with her usual black v-neck undershirt and her teal duster.

The back of her collar had been mended seamlessly. She tried to ignore the way her clothes seemed just slightly too big now as she pulled on her gloves next, followed by her gauntlets. And only when she wiggled her fingers into the tips of her obsidian dragonclaws did she return Kratos' insistent stare.

"If it's for Lloyd," Sara vowed, "it's good enough for me."

She simply watched Kratos for several moments. And hurt and fragile at once made an overpowering, sudden reappearance on his ancient face.

Now, Sara had learned a lot about Kratos in this past week. A lot.

His life as a Tethe'allan knight. His abusive hothead of a father. How he'd left everything he'd ever known in the royal castle to trust a couple of half-elves, if only for a chance to end the war that had needlessly raged for 900 years prior to his own birth.

Then there were the simple facts. How many books he'd read in four-thousand years. How many times he'd counted the stars.

But first and foremost: Sara learned how to handle his bullshit.

Sara stepped into him and curled her claws beneath the golden belt along his right collarbone, so she could yank his face down to hers.

"Shut up right now."

"I-I-" Kratos was absolutely adorable when he stuttered. A multiple millennia-old, sword-master seraph should not be stuttering. She knew now that it was a byproduct of his days as a child, when he preferred cooking and reading over combat. Which he still did, despite how terrifyingly good he'd become at the latter. "I did not say anything-"

"That look on your face," Sara said. "You're guilty. Stop right now."

The way he frowned now confirmed all of her suspicions. So she grabbed hold of his other belt, too, over his opposite clavicle.

"Sure, I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't sign up to become a test subject. To have you completely betray me in front of your leader for the second time. To have my literal worst fears come true."

"Gods, Sara." Kratos slowly closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about… I never meant to-"

"But if there's one thing I'm sure of in this hot mess of a world, Kratos Aurion-" She kissed him once, just a swift whisper of her lips against his. "It's that no matter what you might say or do: you love your son just as much as I do."

Those garnet eyes opened now, and stared wildly into hers.

"So whatever you say I have to do for him," Sara concluded, "that's what goes. Anything for him. Always."

Kratos stared. At her claws curling around his belt. At the defiant tilt of her chin as it brought her mouth a hair's breadth away from his own.

"Good," Kratos told her.

"Good," Sara echoed.

He slid his hands onto that wonderful spot where her hips met her sides and pulled her close.

"I love you, my demon," he mumbled.

She grinned. "I love you, too. My jerk-face."

But Kratos scowled gravely. "Must you really insist on calling me that?"

"Absolutely. I think it's perfect."

"It is ridiculous."

"Exactly. Just like you." Sara kissed him again, quickly. Then let go and turned to the door with a stony square of her shoulders, her angry back be damned. "Now let's go. One more minute in this sterile hellhole, and I'm going to lose what precious little's left of my mind."


Raine knew an unsettlingly small amount about Tethe'alla. And what she knew most was that she didn't know enough. So when they arrived at the entrance of this mine, and saw its giant, gleaming arrangement of foreign (yet undoubtedly glorious) technology, she was the first one to halt them all in their tracks and make them wait.

"Marvelous," she breathed.

She gaped at the gleaming silver and onyx walls made of otherwordly magitechnology she'd never seen. Madness, this was. Brilliant, robotic madness; this device had clearly been designed to lock and protect the mine's entrance. It looked automated, and ready to spring into action at any intruder's presence.

Regal took a few purposeful steps forward. "I will handle this."

Those walls shifted, churned. Clicked forebodingly. Lanky metal arms sprawled forth from their face, and slashed through the dusty air. Regal, however, walked forward unperturbed. Each one of the robot's strikes seemed to just miss him, almost like he'd known their path beforehand.

Genis tugged on his sister's sleeve. "Is he crazy?"

"Probably," Raine admitted. Though something inside her kind of admired the Duke's posture, his poise. He was a strange sense of quiet and reserved that reminded her quite a bit of Kratos - although with less drama, and more tact.

Her brother sighed. "I just hope this works."

"Me, too."

It didn't take much, other than a few seconds of Regal standing before the gate. Those slashing arms stilled. The humming died. Regal and his peculiar shackled wrists didn't move an inch.

"This way, please," he announced simply. And he started to walk forward, those metal greaves along his shins echoing eerily in the dense, stagnant air.

"It looks gross in there," Zelos remarked with a distasteful frown.

"This mine has not been opened in several years," Regal announced, his indigo-blue hair just barely visible through the dim light. Clusters of naturally-sprouting crystals lined the mine's main passage, thrumming with a soft, eerie glow. "I would advise you to watch out for pitfalls and cobwebs. The spiders in this region have been known to grow to the size of a small horse."

Zelos not only stopped dead, but swirled around on one heel and made a beeline for the entrance he'd just walked through. "Nope. I'm out. You guys have fun. I'll be here sending you my thoughts and prayers-"

"Don't add coward to your list of admirable traits," Sheena snarled, firmly gripping his collar and dragging him along like a sack of potatoes. "Believe me, it's already plenty long."

"So you've noticed," Zelos smirked. Then pouted at a punishing tug from her fist.

Naturally, the Inhibitor Ore was in the deepest regions of the mine, and found along only one particular wall that would've been pretty impossible to find if not for Regal's guidance. The stuff grew straight out from the rock's face - a brassy, amber crop of surprisingly soft minerals that Lloyd managed to dislodge from the wall with a few well-placed taps from the hilt of one sword. Kratos had told him to make three crests - he'd worry about why the traitor had told him this later. Right now it was good enough for him. So Lloyd narrowed his eyes and nibbled on his bottom lip and filled his pockets with what he hoped was enough of the stuff to fashion a trio of crests.

He hoped, next, that Altessa would allow them into his home this time. To use his forge, and hopefully lend them his help. Lloyd wasn't sure that he could craft these things on his own; while Dirk had always encouraged him to hone his skills, he'd hardly had the time or motivation to become anything close to a true craftsman.

This had been evidenced by the shoddy excuse for a pendant he'd given Colette for her birthday. Lloyd glared hard at the clump of ore resting in his palm.

This time would be different. He'd make sure of that.


"You're back," Tabatha said to them. The strange, puppet-like girl didn't smile or seem to welcome them at all; she simply stated this as if it were a fact.

"Presea isn't here," Lloyd said pointedly. "I know Altessa doesn't want her around, so we left her at her home in Ozette. But we brought the Inhibitor Ore."

Tabatha paused for a few moments, seemingly considering her next action. Then she opened the front door halfway and stepped back inside. "Please, wait a moment. I will inform the master."

Lloyd stared hard at the wedge of dim light that led inside. If Altessa turned them away again, what was he going to do? Force himself inside anyway, like a common thug? Find somewhere, and someone else to complete the forging process?

"It'll be alright," Sheena said gently. Lloyd looked up at her; she was smiling warmly, and with a touch of concern. "Altessa is grumpy, but I've heard he's reasonable enough. I'm sure he'll lend us his help."

"I hope so," Lloyd mumbled.

Tabatha returned to the door. Lloyd held his breath.

"The master desires to see proof of your crafting skills," she announced.

Raine, Genis, Zelos, Regal and Sheena all zeroed in on Lloyd now. The teen widened his eyes. "P-proof? Like what?"

"The pendant," Genis offered, smiling. "You took it back from Colette, right? Let him see that!"

Lloyd slowly procured the thing from one of his pockets and frowned down at it. "I guess… this will have to do. It's all I have." He handed it to Tabatha, who took it with her stiff, waxy fingers.

"Please wait here," she said.

Regal watched her walk away with a peculiar, uneasy expression. "What a strange girl. She doesn't seem… real."

"She's definitely missing something upstairs," Zelos smirked, twirling his first finger around the side of his head. "Cute enough to make up for it, though."

Regal huffed a deep laugh and smiled a little. "I must say, Chosen, your devotion to always staying the same is rather admirable."

Zelos grinned. "I think so too. Very kind of you to notice. Thanks."

"Anytime."

The front door opened once more. Altessa himself stood there now; it was impossible to tell if he was frowning due to his long grey mustache and beard, but Lloyd had a feeling that he was, beneath all of that hair.

"Amateurish," the dwarf scolded. He dangled the pendant before his wrinkled, dark eyes. "About one quarter complete."

Lloyd's shoulders slumped. "...Yeah, my dad said the same thing."

"I wouldn't trust you to make the Crests on your own," Altessa grumbled. He paused here, seemingly oblivious to the seven pairs of eyes boring into him expectantly. "Clearly, your skills could use some work."

"But we brought the ore all the way here, and-"

"Which is why you're going to need my help," Altessa finished. He palmed the pendant and handed it back to Lloyd with what the teen guessed was some sort of smile, although it was really just a subtle shifting of his beard.

Lloyd's face lit up with glee. "R-Really?! I-I mean, yeah, thanks, Altessa. I won't let you down!"


"Hey, Sheena?"

Corinne's tiny, soft voice barely registered in Lloyd's ears at all. His mind was mostly full of clanks and tangs and the hissing of steam and the churning thrum of the forge in front of him. Sheena and the others were sitting nearby, organizing supplies, eating well-deserved dinner, but Lloyd hadn't been interested in anything other than processing this ore properly. His mind had firmly entered its trademark one-track mode; it would take something rather earth-movingly important to distract him now.

"Yeah, Corinne?" Sheena said, idly scratching behind the little fox's pointed ears.

Corinne gestured his head outside, towards the nearby window. "Just so you know, there's that same man over there. And he's with that woman, too."

Lloyd's hunched back straightened. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head towards Corinne's voice.

"What?" Sheena frowned and stood up. "What man?"

"The one with the red hair and all the belts. And the sword! And the woman with him has lots of freckles-"

Clang!

Lloyd dropped his tongs.

His eyes flew open wide as he shot to his feet. He wasn't wearing his usual red top and therefore was clad only in his sleeveless black undershirt - but he still had his swords at his hips, and that was plenty good enough for him. He pointedly ignored Sheena's half-spoken word of warning and forced the front door open with a weary creak.

Red hair and all the belts. Lots of freckles. His heart leapt into his throat. The back of his left hand started to burn and roar.

The night air swept across his face but did little to settle his heaving breaths. Lloyd was only marginally aware of his companions following him outside and lining up behind him, murmuring to one another. He raked his fervent gaze across the horizon and, through the cyan-tinted moonlight, spotted the silhouettes of two very familiar figures.

One, he never wanted to see again. Well, okay, that wasn't entirely true - he welcomed the sight, if only for the chance to palm his blades and swing them into retribution.

The other, try as hard as he might, made him instantly start to cry. This was terrible for a potential battle, though he could do nothing about it. Because those sharp, broad shoulders and that flickering orange hair were things he'd missed with every inch of his soul, and things he'd become nauseatingly unsure of ever laying eyes on again.

"Lloyd," the Professor was saying tersely. And he could just picture her trademark obstinate glare and the white-knuckle grip of her staff. "Calm down. You must think rationally. Wait-"

Yeah, no.

Lloyd grit his teeth. He drew his blades. He stomped forward, alone, his arms quivering, his heart pounding, and he only finally paused when he heard a telltale schring and saw a flash of silver as Kratos brandished that same damn sword and pointed it straight for Lloyd's throat.

The seraph was standing in front of Sara, and just slightly to her side. He clearly had no intention of moving whatsoever. The growl lingering in Lloyd's chest boiled up until it spilled out through his gritted teeth:

"Let her go."

Sara took a small step forward, around Kratos' outstretched arm. And Kratos seemed to disapprove of this, because he immediately swayed his arm to one side to halt her advance.

Lloyd's chest smoldered with fresh, raw rage. "Don't touch her!"

For just a moment - and it might have been Lloyd's imagination - Kratos seemed to flinch, and looked genuinely taken aback. To be fair, Lloyd kind of was, too, although he didn't let it show - his tone of voice was murderous, decidedly deadly. He'd never heard himself speak like this before.

But he'd already lost his mother to Cruxis. And now that he was grown, and strong, and far from being a helpless child - there was no way in hell he was letting her sister meet the same fate.

"Back away slow," Lloyd commanded, "or I swear, Kratos, I will kill you where you stand."

"Lloyd." Sara's voice was strained and way too raspy. And the sound if it saying his name melted him as much as it steeled his will. He frantically met her identical umber eyes.

"It's cool," she continued gently, through a tentative smile. "I'm okay. Just calm down, Lloyd. Please."

Kratos seemed to suddenly give up. He lowered his arm, gave Sara a peculiar, almost sad glance, and sighed.

"…Go," he muttered.

And then Sara was sprinting towards Lloyd with all the purpose of an arrow fired from a bow. Lloyd's mouth fell open. He shook his head in disbelief. He straight-up dropped his swords uselessly to the ground so he could meet her halfway.

Lloyd's arms crushed her as close as he possibly could. He heard all the air sail from Sara's lungs. He buried his face into her shoulder and let his fresh tears sink into that cheerful teal-blue cloth of her duster.

He belonged here. He belonged in this tight, familiar embrace. Lloyd choked out her name as he gripped fistfuls of her shirt and held on desperately.

"Oh, kid," Sara croaked. Her knees buckled. Lloyd held her up easily. "Gods, I missed you so much-"

Too easily.

Lloyd realized in a sickening rush that she felt bony. Almost… fragile. Which was so far from how he remembered her. It had only been a week… how could this have happened so fast? He held his breath and pulled back, keeping his hands anchored on her shoulders. He felt the bottom drop out of his chest.

"Y-you're-" He shook his head again, slower this time, as he peered over her dull skin, her sunken cheeks, the extra lines that creased behind her eyes. She looked like a shell of her former self. "You're sick, Sara. What is- what did they do to you?"

"It's alright," she assured, idly fussing with his bangs. "I'm fine, okay? Listen, we need to-"

"You're not fine."

Lloyd's expression darkened. Did they do this to his mom, too? Had Sara gone through the same merciless torture his own mother had been forced to endure? His stomach clenched. He glared at Kratos from over Sara's shoulder, and felt fury coil in his gut all over again.

"Did he do this to you?"

Sara exhaled and closed her eyes. "Lloyd-"

"Yes," Kratos interjected. "I did."

There were a few stunned gasps from behind them all. Time seemed to screech to a halt for Lloyd, who tightened his possessive grip on Sara's arm. "...What did you say?"

"I placed the new Angelus Project Exsphere on her as instructed," Kratos elaborated evenly. He was talking about all of this like it were nothing, like he'd merely bought groceries or cooked dinner. Lloyd's hand started to shake.

"Her new Exsphere must be cultivated in the flourishing world." Kratos stepped forward, impossibly silent, his garnet eyes hidden in a veil of bangs and moon shadow. "As such, I have been instructed to accompany and guard her."

"To guard-?" Lloyd scoffed a laugh and stepped protectively in front of Sara. "Like you did with Colette? You've got to be kidding. Do you think I'm stupid enough to believe you again?"

"It's alright, Lloyd," Sara told him.

Her tone was way too soft. Way too okay. Lloyd's gaze flew to Sara's face. She wasn't looking at him. She kept looking at Kratos, like he was all she could see.

"Kratos won't hurt us," she continued quietly. "Cruxis needs me. He's here to keep me safe. That's all."

Lloyd gaped at her. "Sara, what are you talking about? This is ridiculous! I can keep you safe!"

"But I can't do that for you, kid. Not anymore." Her hands curled into fists. She brought them together in front of her - to display both of her empty Key Crests. Her voice was like churning shards of glass. "They took my dragons and my demons away. I'm useless until this Angelus Project bullshit runs its course. Kratos has to fight for me now."

Lloyd swallowed hard and blinked away more tears. "I don't understand any of this, Sara."

"Neither do I." She smirked and breathed a cynical laugh. "None of this makes any sense. And I don't know why they want this Exsphere." She hugged him, and he pressed his forehead against her collarbone as her fingers eased into his hair. "But I know Kratos brought me here to be with you again, and that's enough for me."

"Forgive me, Sara," Raine was saying thinly. "But this places the rest of us in a rather precarious situation. Allowing a traitor back into our ranks seems incredibly risky and foolish."

"You do not have a choice," Kratos announced simply.

Genis immediately bristled and grabbed hold of his kendama. "Don't have a choice? Says who?!"

"Either you allow me to carry out my mission without resistance, or we will fight once more." The seraph rested one foreboding hand on the hilt of his sword. "...You would do well to remember the results of our last battle."

The phantom pain of his lower leg snapping in half lanced through Genis' taut nerves. His determined frown melted into a grimace as he slowly lowered his kendama back to his side. Beside him, he heard Raine mutter a dejected curse.

Regal's eyebrows raised curiously. "Rather arrogant, isn't he?"

"You have no idea," Raine sighed.

Lloyd scowled. "Fine, Kratos. But if I so much as see you lay a finger on any of them-"

"You'll what?" Kratos stepped forward again and squared his broad shoulders. "Fight me once more and lose? You still lack the skills to defeat me."

"You bastard-"

Sheena darted forward and grabbed Lloyd's wrist before he could lunge. "Don't." When the teen whirled around to glare at her, she said plainly: "He's right. Colette and Sara are back. That's enough for now, okay? We have to finish making the three Crests."

"The third," Zelos began. His eyes were thinned as he stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Not Presea's, or Colette's. It was meant for Sara, then." He eyed Kratos knowingly. "That's why you told Lloyd to make three."

Kratos said nothing. Sara was giving him a wide-eyed, almost surprised look.

"And a man of many words," Regal added.

Zelos chuckled and waved a dismissive hand at Kratos. "Bah, you're better off just ignoring this guy. He's more machine than man, anway. It's not like he's gonna answer you."

The front door to Altessa's home slowly opened. Tabatha hesitantly peered outside. "Is everything alright? Forgive me for interrupting. I heard raised voices."

"We're fine, Tabatha," Raine said on a resigned exhale. She rubbed her temple tiredly with two fingertips. "Please prepare an additional pair of beds. You'll be having two more guests, apparently."


A/N: Thaaaaaaanks for reading! Lyrics at the beginning are Mumford & Sons "There Will Be Time."

I LOVED writing this chapter. And I'm going to love the next few, too, because it's where Kratos will rejoin the main cast! And he gets to have interactions with the others like he never could in the game! *flails* Oh god I'm so excited. Please drop me a review! Thanks and love!