"My, are you regretting your decision?"
A pause. Then, "No."
"Hm." A hand snaked out to tilt the boy's chin up. "At first glance, I couldn't have said I noticed. But now that I have a better view, I quite agree. There is a resemblance."
Kratos resisted the impulse to yank the hand away. Instead, he lifted his arm to take Lloyd by the elbow. He was so very still under his touch. "I shall take my leave."
"No, no," chuckled Yggdrasill, "leave him with me. I would so love to have a chat with my dear teacher's son."
A muscle in his jaw spasmed. "With all due respect, Lord Yggdrasill, I do not know if I can trust you with his safety."
Yggdrasill raised a brow. "Have you known me for four thousand years, Kratos, and still you do not understand me? I know what family is like." He must have seen something in his mentor's expression, for a moment later he went on, "But I suppose I could let you have some father-son time. Family moments should be treasured." His mood darkened before he walked away, just barely out of angelic earshot.
Kratos studied his son's face. Anna's. His. The unruly hair, the cowlick poking out from the prominent widow's peak. The thick brows, either furrowed or arced in joy and rarely anything between. The eyes.
Kratos placed a hesitating hand on Lloyd's shoulder. A distant part of him wanted to draw him close, but the unblinking gaze brought him to a standstill. Vacant and yet accusing.
"I cannot hope for forgiveness, Lloyd," he said under his breath. "But I swear to you that your key crest shall be returned."
Face set like flint, he spun on his heel and departed, his long strides carrying him past Yggdrasill and through identical passages. Yggdrasill's mocking laughter rang in his ears.
"Don't forget," he called after Kratos, "he is of Cruxis now."
The unspoken threat lingered in the air.
What kind of father was he?
Ah, yes. The kind who abandoned his son when he was little, who turned tail and slunk back to serve the very man who had rent his life—his family—asunder, then dared to seek some semblance of a relationship, all while he plotted to sacrifice his childhood friend (love). And then offered up his son's freedom in exchange for his life.
"Dammit!"
He smashed his fist into the wall to his right, splintering the material. His breathing was heavy as he fought to keep back tears. His knees went weak.
Kratos let his head fall; his body sagged against the wall and he slid down as he dropped his head into his hands. "Can I do nothing right?"
He had already handed in the exsphere and key crest he had worn during the Journey of Regeneration, having not anticipated any further use for them. Now, he had no chance of retrieving them: he had no doubt that Yggdrasill would restrict the limited amount of key crests on Welgaia. There were very few people who still distributed key crests in Tethe'alla, as the majority of the population did not use exspheres, and Rodyle and Vharley—the main suppliers—had been taken down, their smuggling rings disassembled. Sylvarant was not much better; with the Desian ranches in ruins, there would be little chance of finding an existing key crest reliably, especially since not many vendors knew of the existence and importance of exspheres and key crests.
Had Yggdrasill seen through his farce? That he would endeavour to liberate his son as soon as he could? To make matters worse, Yggdrasill had pocketed the key crest, making it impossible for Kratos to return it to either Lloyd or his friends. Too difficult to pilfer without notice.
He had given up on himself long ago. He didn't want to give up on Lloyd. But the current state of events was nigh on hopeless.
She had always thought Lloyd was incredible from the moment they'd met.
For one, who else would be so bold as to wear so much red all the time? Colette would never be able to work up the courage to ask for such a bright colour. And her pristine attire was one befitting the Chosen. Though it was usually sullied by the time she got home. (Just like her.)
Red summed him up so perfectly. He was always vibrant and fiery. Passionate about whatever he was talking about and turbulent as a raging wildfire. Radiant like the sun which bestowed its warmth upon Sylvarant. She believed—privately, of course—that even the great Efreet himself could not match Lloyd's ardent spirit.
She admired him so much.
"This way!"
After guiding them to the mana fragment, Yuan had pointed them in the general direction of the exit, saying he had things to do. Sheena led the charge from then on. As the most agile in their party, she could make short work of most threats by herself. Genis stood to her side and slightly behind to prevent enemies out of melee range from sounding the alarm. With both his close combat and ranged capabilities, Zelos took up the rear to watch for any ambushes. The others walked along haphazardly if bunched together, and Raine kept her mana tightly woven for emergency healing. It was a simple and efficient setup. And it allowed Colette's thoughts to keep wandering to Lloyd.
Red was supposed to be a fierce pigment. It stirred up and ignited a person's most extreme emotions: desire, fury, pain, fear. The colour of blood. The colour of life and love.
In Colette, there was only peace.
"I get nervous when Lloyd's not around."
Hence her eyes never moved from Zelos' rose-red hair, bouncing as he ran. She slipped quite often, and yet her stare never broke. Eventually, Presea held her hand to stabilise her. Colette was so grateful, yet only apologies issued from her mouth.
She remembered stealing glances at Lloyd's side-profile as they sat on the grassy fields outside Iselia, watching the sun set. Vermilion bathed his face as he enthused about his new getup in the context of dwarven symbolism.
"You gotta heat up the steel until it's red-hot or a little hotter, see?" he expounded, his hands animated, caught up in his narrative. "Then it's soft enough to refine it, getting rid of its impurities, and hammer into shape. Like people!"
Lloyd was really smart. Dwarves were really smart.
They raced after Sheena down the dilapidated hallways of the tower, minds whirling with new information.
"So we should try get our hands on that Eternal Sword?" Sheena queried.
"If we are able to," replied Regal. "The terminal did say that Yggdrasill's power would diminish with its loss."
Zelos grinned. "Hey, sounds kinda funky. Would be nifty if we could!"
"Perhaps," said Presea. "But we should cure Colette and rescue Lloyd before that. If we happen upon the Eternal Sword on our way, that is to our benefit."
"Sure, sure."
"Over here!" Sheena called. "I think it's this way."
Raine walked up to peer at the warp beside her. "I don't see any other path, so I suppose you're correct. Everyone, be on your guard. We don't know what lies beyond."
They stepped through the transporter, and when the light faded, Colette was in the very place she had once given up her soul.
Then familiar red crossed her sight.
"Lloyd!" She smiled in relief. "You're here!"
He didn't move, nor even react to her voice.
"Come on, we've got to get out of here!" urged Raine. "We're on a tight schedule."
Finally, Lloyd turned, and suddenly her lungs were empty.
His eyes were blood-red and vacant.
"No…" someone breathed.
Laughter filled the air. Her blood ran cold. Everyone's hands went to their weapons, excluding Colette, whose burning eyes were fixed on his.
"What have you done to him?" Regal demanded. Somehow, even with her angelic senses, it was hard to hear anything. Like she was swimming in water, muffling her surroundings. Except those redeyes were so vivid, drowning out her vision.
She never knew she was capable of hating red until now.
"What did I do?" the voice gushed. "No, it's what Kratos did."
The Professor's anger was clear. "Let's not get into semantics. You're responsible for this, aren't you?"
A pause—an admission of guilt.
"You—!" Zelos began.
Presea interrupted him. "His key crest is gone."
Everyone's attention was snatched. Sure enough, his exsphere glimmered, lonely on the back of Lloyd's hand.
Sheena whipped around, brandishing a card before her. "Where is it?" she demanded.
"I don't know," said Yggdrasill. "But he's with us now."
Raine recoiled. Colette's ears picked up her horrified whisper. "That's not the reaction of an exsphere deprived of a key crest."
The crystal at her neck seared terror into her soul.
Yggdrasill landed beside Lloyd and placed a hand on his shoulder. He was stock still, unblinking, hands loose and at his sides. The Lloyd she knew was never like that, always fidgeting, always expressive. Slouching a little when he was relaxed, resting his weight on his left leg, hand drifting unconsciously to the hilt of his left blade.
"This is the side you should be fighting for," he told them. "Reuniting the worlds will bring nothing but pain and more discrimination."
Sheena scoffed. "The side that's trying to do the impossible? Bring back the dead? No, thanks. Besides, it's your fault that there's so much suffering in both Tethe'alla and Sylvarant! It's your fault there's not enough mana to share!"
"What is impossible is that you think you can bring an end to discrimination without changing the fundamental nature of humanity," he countered. "Besides, it is thanks to me that the worlds still exist."
Regal narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
Yggdrasill sighed. "Must I spell it out for you? What do you think, my fellow kinsman? Why is there such a shortage of mana?"
"Me?" Genis was shocked that the man had singled him out. He brought his hands to fiddle with his kendama. "Um… because the development of magitechnology resulted in a large consumption of mana?"
Yggdrasill closed his eyes for a brief moment. He sighed. "Yes—and that magitechnology led to a great war. War consumes an abhorrent amount of mana."
"Which caused the withering of the Great Kharlan Tree," the Professor finished. "Therefore you alternate the worlds between prosperity and dearth to subdue the development of magitechnology."
He beamed. "As expected, those who share my blood understand."
"Even so, resurrecting Martel will mean the end of this system you have set up," Presea argued. "The Great Seed will die if Martel is brought back. Isn't this rhetoric simply a front for your deeper desire?"
Yggdrasill smiled thinly. "Hm. I suppose it is. The same way you all abandoned the declining world of Sylvarant in order to save Colette."
Colette's insides froze. That's right.
"No!" Genis objected. "We're going to save both worlds, without sacrificing anyone else!"
"Futile."
"No, it's not!"
"I have observed the worlds for millennia. Do you not think I have searched for a way? There is none."
"You're a coward who gave up!" he retorted. "Lloyd isn't like you! He's not going to give up!"
For the first time, Yggdrasill looked stunned. "What?"
"My student is a stubborn one," said the Professor. "I have come to place my faith in what he believes, as improbable as it may be." She shook her head. "No; more than what he believes, my faith is in Lloyd himself. It will not be an easy path, but it will be the only one that is worth the effort."
Zelos said something which Colette would have ordinarily scolded him for. "So let him go!"
"Why should I?" he queried. He huffed. "This is where he should be. In any case, it's not like you would give up Martel's vessel in exchange, would you? Oh, wait…"
Colette's hands had begun to shake.
He was doing this because he wanted her. Lloyd was like this because of her.
She took a step forward.
"Stop it!"
Genis latched onto her arm. "Lloyd wouldn't want this!"
Her voice wouldn't come out. Her shoulder blades pulsed; her wings were stone. He wouldn't want to be like I was, either.
"Colette! Don't!"
Her feet moved again, her immense strength allowing her to shrug off the efforts of a young half-elf who was more brains than brawn. Her eyes remained on Lloyd's.
They were beautiful, glazed over, and very, very red.
There was a presence by her side. "Colette, do you really think he'll stand by his bargain? I don't think so."
Even if there's only a small chance, I have to take it!
A shadow fell over her. Regal's large stature blocked Lloyd from her sight. "Please, Colette. No one wishes for you to blame yourself. Lloyd least of all."
"My sister didn't want Regal to condemn himself for what happened to her," Presea said. "Neither would Lloyd!"
Zelos was still next to her. "You're not the only one responsible for him," he added in an undertone. "We'll rescue him. Together, capiche?"
I don't understand.
Yggdrasill was contemptuous. "Then I will simply claim her by force. Kill them all, apart from the Chosen of Sylvarant and the half-elves."
In a flash, Lloyd had drawn his dual blades and rushed forward. Zelos deflected a sword with his own, sending the teenager back a few steps. He recovered quickly only to fend off Sheena's onslaught. She stayed just inside his guard, making it awkward for him to block her with steel. Still, he did very well, swiping out with a leg instead and forcing Sheena to employ her impressive footwork to avoid it. Lloyd's momentum carried him around to confront Zelos as he came back into the fray.
Presea and Regal dashed past them to engage Yggdrasill, presumably in a bid to buy them time to whisk Lloyd away. Besides, Zelos and Sheena were keeping Lloyd busy between themselves, and additional physical fighters would likely throw the skirmish's pace off. Raine set to work casting protective buffs over them.
Genis charged a mid-level spell, eyes narrowed as he searched for an opening. Their aim was to incapacitate Lloyd, but he had become a formidable ally over their travels. Now he was an equally daunting opponent: low-level magic would do next to nothing, but an ill-aimed advanced invocation could ruin everything. And Colette stood frozen as her childhood friend did his level best to kill everyone.
All the while, Yggdrasill seemed bored and a tad disappointed. He repelled most strikes, disregarding those that did land, and making no attempt to launch his own.
He was toying with them.
"We have to go!" shouted the Professor.
Sheena's turmoil was mirrored on their faces. "What? But—"
"Do you think we can disable Lloyd and escape with Yggdrasill right there without backup?"
The professor's rationale cut deep. Sheena winced.
A few seconds later, brilliant light saturated the room. Colette realised dimly that it was the Professor's Photon, modified to daze rather than damage. Someone tugged at her arm; she resisted.
"I can't leave Lloyd," she mumbled—the first thing she'd said since discovering what had happened to him.
Sheena's tousled hair rested on her shoulder, tickling her neck. "I know. We're going to help him, no matter what."
A tear slid down Colette's cheek.
She allowed Sheena to pull her away this time. They tore down the room towards the teleporter.
Yggdrasill's voice still echoed. "Running? I see. Inferior beings are deficient; they are unable to even stand up for other members of their own race? Such selfish creatures."
Colette slammed her eyes shut. She was selfish, wasn't she? She had chosen herself, her life, over Sylvarant. She had caused Lloyd pain, time and time again.
This was no different. Now she was choosing herself over him. How could he have stood by her for so long? A failure of a Chosen; a failure of a friend.
"You're wrong!"
She was jolted out of her brooding by Genis, who had screamed in their defence. He stopped running and turned around. Raine let out a panicked cry, her hand darting out to catch him. In a shocking display of sprightliness, he dodged her.
He gasped for breath, winded and lagging slightly, but seemed dogged in his outlook. "It's true that a lot of humans are insufferable and ignorant and conceited! But Lloyd hasn't ever been like that! I… I…"
Colette watched, her thoughts tangled as Sheena tried to pull her along. Genis sucked in a breath to bellow at the top of his voice.
"I hate you, Yggdrasill! I'll never forgive you!"
He panted raggedly after that. Then, he spun on his heel and sprinted after the group to safety.
Colette noticed the puffiness of his eyes as he passed her.
Strangely enough, Yggdrasill had fallen silent.
Lloyd's blank stare filled her mind. His eyes, once a warm brown with a slight reddish tinge, now completely scarlet. Tears burned her own. So, this was how he had felt when she had handed herself over to Cruxis. How the tide had turned.
"Lloyd... I'm sorry. Now it's my turn to help you."
"Why do you like red so much?"
Lloyd noised his confusion and turned from his absent-minded stoking of the fire. It crepitated, throwing bright embers across his brown eyes.
"Don't take your eyes off the campfire," Kratos barked only a couple of metres away, making Lloyd jump. The sound of a blade being sharpened did not help.
"Yikes…"
"You should know better than to do so in such close proximity, particularly when you are the one responsible for tending to it."
Lloyd's expression twisted into something resembling a kicked dog—split between embarrassment and ire. Raine was surprised when he murmured nothing but an apology. Then again, she had permitted him to accompany them partly in the hopes that it would foster his maturity. This was, therefore, a pleasant substantiation of her theory. Pride welled up.
She squatted next to him, observing flames lick at dry sticks and the fist-sized rocks in the centre begin to glow. Her face slowly grew warm. A comforting silence descended, broken only by the rhythmic chopping of dinner's preparation and the crackling of the flames. Every so often, Lloyd would peek at Kratos, his desire to join him in sword maintenance clear. Colette was helping in their makeshift kitchen; used to her clumsiness, Genis had only allowed her to snap snake beans. The Iselians did not want a repeat of the Dog-Knife incident.
One had to wonder how the Chosen had not yet fallen across her own chakrams.
"Guess I hadn't really thought about it," Lloyd resumed after a while. She glanced at him, at his careless smile, and looked at the fire once again. She hoped he would not lose that exuberance.
"I suppose not," she said, hand cupping her chin. "It's not something lay people usually consider. I would imagine that it may be a subconscious reaction to some stimulus. That's often the case. You've had that fascination since before Genis and I came to Iselia, perhaps even prior to your adoption if other sources can be relied upon for their memory."
Lloyd shifted the wood to keep it burning. Kratos seemed immersed in polishing his blade, but she was not fooled. With no one to cut short her speculations, Raine persisted. "Yes, I rather think that it originates from your childhood, though you have no explicit memory of it. I have noticed that your irises are, on occasion, somewhat ruddy; it is feasible that one of your parents had red pigmentation as well and this is how you developed it as your preferred colour…"
She would have steered herself further into dangerous waters, none the wiser, had she not chanced a glimpse in the men's direction. Lloyd's visage had saddened and Kratos' grip on his oiling cloth was decidedly tenser. She blinked.
"My apologies. I will refrain from further comment."
Lloyd threw her a grateful look. Pushing down the remorse, she cast about for a more light-hearted topic.
"It is curious why you love that colour so much while tomatoes are so hated. Perhaps I should conduct an experiment: a meal consisting of other red ingredients mixed in with tomato. Capsicum, chilli, beetroot, radish," she mused. Genis grew greener and greener as his sister went down the list. "Do you think apples will complement the dish? Ah! It's not quite red, but rhubarb will add a definite kick with its contrasting flavour!"
Kratos and Lloyd had both jerked their heads towards her in equal repulsion as soon as tomatoes had been mentioned. She exhaled in mixed astonishment and amusement at their identical frowns. If Raine didn't know any better, she would think they were…
She shook the thought away.
Colette clapped her hands, dropping two halves of a bean into the grassy dirt. "That sounds like a great idea, Professor!"
Genis looked ready to cry at the thought of the tortured vegetables and fruits.
Raine heaved a sigh. Their party had grown very reserved since the revelation of Lloyd's dilemma. Each member went about their chores as usual, but without energy.
They had become accustomed to Lloyd's passionate leadership. Even during their first journey to the Tower of Salvation, while the adults made decisions, it was often Lloyd who had directed their course—more impulsively than not, however. Colette was the Sylvaranti Chosen, yes, but she had always been content to follow his lead before he had grown fully into the role. In the wake of Kratos' betrayal, it was Lloyd who had stepped up to the plate in such a natural way that they had barely noticed the change. Thus, while the group could function decently enough, it was evident that they were somewhat lost without him.
Raine herself contemplated Lloyd's exsphere. Rather, his Cruxis Crystal. The Angelus Project was a resounding success, in the end. Although it did not appear complete, not quite yet. Lloyd had yet to materialise wings, while Colette's had emerged at the beginning. Had its progress been halted by his mother's death? She doubted it. Lloyd had grown exponentially stronger since leaving Iselia; taking into account the length of time and Kratos' severe instruction, he was far more powerful than what she would have predicted. Was it continuing to evolve despite the key crest, then? And, now that his key crest had been taken, its parasitic activity would be accelerated.
How intriguing. She would not share her conjecture until morning, however. There were other issues to discuss.
Dinner was a silent affair. Regal's cooking was excellent, as anticipated, but lacked its characteristic spark. Zelos' half-hearted stabs to raise their spirits fell short. Genis was so distracted he did not even touch his kendama, nor Presea her carvings. Sheena fiddled with the sardonyx ring, proof of her pact with Volt. Colette's eyes were glued to her necklace; the ruby gleamed in the firelight. The chainwork was delicate, yet unexpectedly strong, evinced by the countless battles they had been through since then.
Clean-up was much the same way. Raine was no enemy of the quiet—it was fertile ground for the consideration of new hypotheses—but this was ridiculous.
"Now, then," she said, settling on the dry, packed dirt, "let's revise our plan."
A hand touched her arm. She twisted about to see Genis shaking his head. "Not now."
"If not now, then when?" she countered irritably. "The sooner we determine our course of action, the sooner we can aid Lloyd."
Still her brother disagreed. Raine's silver brows drew in.
"But…" she protested. Her voice died in her throat as she scanned the group. Their attitude was much the same.
There was a short silence. Genis' eyes went downcast. She knew that he had been expecting Lloyd to say something dumb or make light of the situation. Tears sprang to his eyes and he smeared them away, infuriated with himself.
"Not tonight," said Genis again.
She met his eyes a moment longer before embracing him.
His sobs were muffled in her coat.
A/N: After I wrote this chapter, my brain told me that perhaps his eyes should have been blue because the colour may depend on the Cruxis Crystal's. But I've become too attached to what I did with red.
Again, I love constructive criticism. Go for your life.
