Chapter 6

Devotion

Lloyd felt frustrated but happy all at the same time. He was frustrated because he wouldn't get any answers to his question. They were ignored, not even acknowledged. But his father was here. And that was what made the boy happy.

Despite everything, the fear and uncertainty, being locked up in a cell for no apparent reason, at the very least his father was here. And that brought a bright smile on his face every time. Even though the man in question mostly came to train him, it was still something.

Sure, the training was harsh. Kratos was relentless and rather strict. But at the very least he got the necessary exercise and distraction. His father knew what he was doing, after all.

Time still was just a guess for Lloyd, not being able to see the sun or the moon. Any indication of it passing by, was him growing, and his hair. His father did take it upon himself to cut the unruly locks of hair, so it wouldn't hang in front of his face. It wasn't great; he had to do it quick before Mithos would not agree with this action.

Training was trying and tiresome. Both because Kratos needed to keep up appearances and that he wanted his son to grow strong. He was a child, so it wasn't always easy. He'd sometimes cry or get mad and impatient.

It was all part of it. Maybe 'enjoy' it now it was still there. In time, that thing will take it all away, Kratos thought while he glared at the orb on top of his son's left hand. It was frustrating that Sybak gave him nothing to work with.

Meltokio was the next location to look into. He was not looking forward to it. Searching for a good keycrest, preparing for the journey of Regeneration and training his son. Kratos indeed had a busy schedule. And he had not the luxury to put one in front of the other, if he valued Lloyd's life.

The capital it was then. Meltokio was a sight for sore eyes. Their history with this place was...bad and bloody. The research lab was next to the slums on the lower half of the city. With any luck, Kratos won't run into the 'higher class' people.

It turned out that the researchers there were more interested in studying the source of mana and all it was capable off. Exsphere's were not as much of a priority because this side did not deal with them in the same way.

Sure, Kratos could try and convince them to investigate the Cruxis Crystal of the Chosen, but that will take years. Who knows how fast the process will go? A dead end again! Where were all the Dwarves? Did they really all choose for a life underground? They were the only ones who would know the right to make a keycrest.

Now what? Maybe after some work and training, it will come to me. Hopefully.


First, Lloyd did not notice anything different. The gem that was placed on his hand still had a somewhat aggressive red glow, but next to that, it seemed fine. It didn't hurt anymore, though the veins surrounding it, did concern the boy.

Luckily, his father was there to give him the necessary distraction. Even though it was in the form of training, it at least was something. And after laying down the basics, Kratos began teaching the boy about techniques.

"You feel a power, coming from that gem, do you not? Do not fear it, utilize it. Bend it to your needs and use it. Let it flow through you. From your hands to your swords. Focus it there and..."

Kratos demonstrated the first, most basic tech; demon fang. It did not work so easily for his son, however. His lack of concentration was the biggest cause for that. But there was also still a good dose of fear.

He was afraid of the gem, even when his father told him it wasn't necessary. It even felt warm, like a sort of comfort. Still, Lloyd felt something was not right about it. Eventually, he got it. The biggest motivation being that his father said that he will needing it in order to survive, to get out of here. He would otherwise not stand a chance. Against who or what, he did not say.

Now Lloyd has had a taste of the gem's power. It felt good, almost like sure thing. It was hard to give it a fitting description.

Sometime later, however, Lloyd noticed something different. Angels still brought him food, but he did not feel hungry. At first, he didn't think much of it. But after almost two full days of this same feeling, he needed to at least try to take a bite. When he did, however, it did not taste like anything. The food never was great, but it at least was something. It did not sustain now; it even made the boy hurl.

"H-hey, what did you do with it?" He asked an Angel, who brought the next plate of food. "It is different. It has no taste."

The Angel just tilted his head, setting the full plate of food down. Nothing was said (as usual) and he left the cell.

Stubborn and annoyed, Lloyd tried this new food. There was no taste and again, it made the boy hurl. He felt his forehead, maybe he was sick? But it didn't feel any warmer than usual.

After another day of this, he was pretty sure that his body was all out rejecting food. He didn't know how or why and it didn't make him feel sick either. It was strange and frightening. Lloyd chose to set it to the back of his mind. After all, he couldn't do anything about it.

A day or two later, Kratos came by to take his son along for another training session. He looked at the plates with food that were piled up in a corner. Some of it was already looking bad.

"Lloyd, are you not hungry?"

The boy scratched the back of his head. "Yeah. You think I'm sick, daddy? I don't feel it. Every time I try to eat, I can't hold it down. Maybe they did something with the food."

"I doubt that. They do what they are told, and I told them to bring you nourishment." Still, Kratos felt his son's forehead, more out of habit than anything else.

"They listen to you? Why is that? Are you important here?"

There were those questions again. Kratos was not at liberty to answer them. As he feared, the first effect of the exsphere had reared its ugly head. If the Seraphim could work up a cold sweat, he would. But he could not give up, for Lloyd's sake.

Again, he tried Sybak. According to some of the researches, there was a salesman at the marketplace selling all kinds of oddities. Not many actually knew what a keycrest was, because in Tethe'alla, they were not needed.

Kratos figured it was worth a shot. The man did indeed have an interesting collection, tucked away in the corner of the market place. When he asked for a keycrest, the salesman did show him one. However, it was damaged and broken, even missing half of its inscriptions.

Still, the man had the nerve to ask an absolute fortune for this broken trinket. Kratos was in no mood for negotiation. He looked around, to see if no one was watching, and then made his blue wings appear.

"I am a member of Cruxis, overseers of the Church of Martel. Do you still intend to stand by your ridiculous price?"

"O-of course not. Please, just take it, s-sir." Shaking, the salesman gave the golden trinket.

Kratos made his wings disappear, looking at it and turning it over. As it was now, it would not have the desired effect, this much was obvious. This was just one small step closer. Someone needed to fix it, and only a dwarf was up to this task.

Once, they had a dwarf working for Cruxis. He managed to take himself out of the picture, so to say. The dwarf was hiding and surely was not planning to help them after what had happened.

Dwarves were good at hiding; this they had proven. They chose the underground a long time ago. There was a chance some were still on the surface, but the chance was slim. Maybe in Sylvarant? Still, that would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

For Lloyd, he kept telling himself. Seeing his face was encouragement enough. The boy kept heart, smiling despite the whole situation. He had his mother's spirit for sure.


Lloyd no longer had the need for food, so no more Angels came to bring him something. No more people to talk to. Yes, they never said anything, or gave any indication that they were even listening. But it was still a nice way to get things of his chest, to order his mind in a way. They were still a welcome company, be it short and quiet.

At the very least, he still had the training sessions with his dad. He listened; this Lloyd was sure of. Even when he didn't show it and always seemed to glance around.

Again, after some time, he noticed something changed. He didn't feel tired anymore, not sleepy. Lloyd tried closing his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. It was as if his body decided it no longer needed rest.

This was worrying, but again, nothing could be done about it. Kratos at first noticed that his son's bed wasn't as messy. And that with training, he had a much better endurance that seemed to come out of nowhere.

"Lloyd, do you not want to rest? You should not push yourself."

"But I don't feel tired." This was after a way longer session than usual, a boy his age should be absolutely spent.

"What? Have you slept at all?"

"Not really... I just don't feel sleepy. Even if I try, I can't. Is there something wrong with me?"

The boy's eyes were filled with fear while he looked up to his father. Kratos took a deep breath and shook his head. This was going faster than he thought.

"Do you still feel the cold, and warmth?"

"Uh, yeah." That was a strange question. Lloyd had a deep frown on his face.

"I see. We will stop for now. There are things I must do."

"Okay." Lloyd knew by now that fighting this or asking questions was useless.

It became clear to Kratos that time was of the essence. The bad influence of the exsphere could go far and was in no case a fun experience. Will it make Lloyd a monster as well? Was history doomed to repeat itself?

Lloyd still kept his head up. Was it denial, was it blindness? A false hope even, that it all will turn out alright? No, you mustn't think like that. Don't give up, for the sake of your son!

For distraction and hopefully to clear his mind, Kratos went to Iselia. It was a very quiet town, so it was the ideal place for it. And at the same time, he could check on the well-being of the Chosen. It was not that he didn't trust the capabilities of the Desians, he was just the type to make sure for himself.

In his less eye-catching attire, the Seraphim would be seen as a normal traveler, or even a mercenary with his sword on display like this.

The young blond was around Lloyd's age. She was being kept inside the village, just as the people were instructed. Priests were to teach her all her obligations and her eventual fate.

Kratos visited the temple, to pay respect and check on things at the same time. He was welcome, but only on the base floor. When he inspected a wooden statue of an Angel that seemed new, a priest approached him.

"Beautiful piece isn't it? Ever since we had it made, it really had gotten attention. Although it is not a surprise, seeing it was made by a dwarf."

Right away, Kratos looked at the man. "A dwarf, here?"

"Well, he lives just passed the forest all on his own. He is good at what he does. As long as you have the money, Dirk will make it for you. It doesn't even have to be wood."

"I see." The Seraphim nodded in thanks for this information, then got up to go right away.

This Kratos needed to see for himself. Was luck with him for a change? When he was out of sight, he flew, straight toward the forest and passed it. The house was easy to spot from up above, seeing it was out in the open. What also caught his eye, was the Iselia Human Ranch, up on the cliff, literally looking over it. How in the world did they miss something right under their nose like this?

Landing close by, he decided to approach on foot, still going under his cover. The clinking noises coming from the wooden house, were surely promising. Kratos still tried to knock, but as soon as he touched the door, it opened. The small man at the anvil looked up, lifting his protective glasses of his eyes.

"Ay, good day to yah. I leave the door open yah see, since I can't hear people knockin'." The man said with a cheerful gruff.

Kratos looked him over. "You're a dwarf."

"Ah what give it away? The magnificent beard?" He chuckled as he stroked his thick, brown beard. "That's right. Name's Dirk. What can I do yah for?"

"Right, of course. My apologies, it is just very hard to find your kind these days."

"Been like that for quite some time, lad. But it is true. Most of us rather hide in the dark. But that aint the life for me. I'd like to offer my skills to people who need it, yah know? Only then will people will remember yah and treat yah kind in return."

"Wise words to live by indeed." Kratos nodded.

This dwarf seemed to be alright. Dirk seemed to be a no-nonsense, straight to the point kind of guy. Sometimes you just need to hear the truth instead of excuses.

"I'll ask again lad. Have yah come here to pick up an order or make one yourself? I can offer yah coffee or maybe something stronger."

"No. Maybe...another time. I actually have a special request."

Kratos stepped closer. He was a rather tall man, so he really had to look down at Dirk, who was about hip height. About the height of his own son. But this dwarf was probably over a hundred years old. The age of a dwarf was hard to guess, but this man did have some wrinkles showing.

The Seraphim took the poor excuse for a crest out of his pocket and showed this to Dirk. He studied it for a moment, stroking his beard.

"That is a rough one, ey? What yah do, let a dragon stomp on it?"

"Not particularly. My question is: can you fix it? Make it into a working keycrest?"

"Hm. It is possible. But it is gonna take some time and a special kind of ore."

"You need more to work with, then?"

"Like this, I can't make anything of it. I need inhibitor ore. And no, I don' know where you can find those these days. It's been a while since I needed to make a keycrest."

"I see." Another search it was. Surely, with all the resources Cruxis had, he'd find out where the ore is?

"I could use a nice chunk, while you're at it. Yah know, for a rainy day."

"You mean another... Never mind. I will go and find this ore and be back as soon as I can."

"Ay well, good luck to yah, lad. You're gonna need it."

"Hm. Can I leave this with you?"

Dirk looked at the broken crest he was offered, then up to the man himself. His face was stoic, eyes almost empty and mostly covered by his hair. Still, one does not just ask for a keycrest.

"Yah don' know me, but yah gonna trust me with this?"

"I know Dwarves are honest, they live by vows. You will not do anything with it and it will be much safer here."

There was a short silence. Dirk was rather surprised at the mention of vows. Not many people knew about those. Except for maybe his more regular clients. He took the crest carefully and nodded.

"Ay, it will be safe here."

"Thank you. I will be back soon."

The man said it with such certainty. With a nod, he was off, leaving the simple, humble home. Dirk carefully hid the crest, knowing it was important. This man seemed to know exactly what purpose it served and had real need for it. He even knew of the Dwarven vows, and mentioned that his kind were hard to find 'these days.'

Was this man an elf? He did not look like one. Not that Dirk even met one, but he was always told that elves had silver hair and pointed ears. The man did not fit that description. Besides, they would never leave their secluded place, in hopes to put an end to the existence of half-elves.

Dirk shook his head, to break out of these thoughts. He should get back to work. Surely it will be a while before that man comes back.