Hikaru: If I owned ToS, would I be writing fan fiction about it?!?!
"Professor, is something wrong?" Zelos asked the half-elven teacher as she slowly walked out of the bedrooms, where Lloyd rested, sleepless.
"We have to find Lloyd's cure as soon as humanly possible. He's already lost the ability to sleep." She said meekly, staring down at the hardwood floor.
The other six group members were all severely shaken, even if they didn't show it. Sheena yelled out in frustration.
"We don't even know the first thing about curing Lloyd's damned Toxicosis! Dammit!"
Zelos, sensing yet another anger tantrum from Sheena, turned on his heel, walking out the door. No one objected, assuming that the former Chosen needed some time to think. In actuality, Zelos wanted a chance to contact Kratos on Derris-Kharlan regarding whether the angel figured out who did this to Lloyd or if he found a cure. The redhead took a moment to make sure no one else was going to follow him out on the porch, and when he confirmed that no one was coming back out, he removed a ring from his finger. He murmured an incantation, waiting.
A moment after the incantation was uttered, a holograph of Kratos Aurion emitted from the ring. The seraphim appeared to be harassed by something or someone.
"Kratos? Anything wrong?" Zelos inquired.
Kratos grunted before answering.
". . .Someone's stolen all the Mana Fragments." He reluctantly said.
Zelos put a large effort into stifling his astounded gasp.
"Stolen?! How? No one's there but you, right?"
"That's also what I thought. Apparently, I was wrong. Someone stole every last Mana Fragment from the warehouses."
Zelos pouted, releasing a heavy sigh. He looked desperately at the Kratos hologram.
"Without the Mana Fragments, no cure can be made permanently, right? And Derris-Kharlan is the only source of Mana Fragments! Damn!"
Kratos shifted a bit in the image before answering.
"That's not entirely true. Mana Fragments can be harvested from areas with strong mana force."
"And is there a source of mana like that in Sylvarant or Tethe'alla?" Zelos pressed urgently, his heart racing.
"There is. The monument where Origin rests, or perhaps Maxwell's abode in Exire. However there still is one slight problem . . ."
Zelos felt his hopes fly up against his will, and he was bothered by the problem that rested between him and Lloyd's cure.
"What problem?"
What Kratos said next made him want to punch something.
"The problem that remains is that the technique for harvesting Mana Fragments was lost during the Kharlan War, and nobody thought to make a record of it, since everyone believed that Derris-Kharlan will always have Fragments of Mana. Also, the Fragments can only be harvested on the night of a new moon."
"BUT THE NEW MOON WAS JUST LAST NIGHT, DAMMIT!!" Zelos hollered, wholly losing control over his actions. Bad idea. Really bad.
Inside Altessa's house, Genis was busily cooking up everyone's dinner, brooding over the current situation. Everyone else was visiting Lloyd, holding a public brainstorming session about finding Lloyd's cure. The silver-haired half-elf felt his stomach grumble uncomfortably as the aroma of ramen wafted toward his nose. He then felt sad that Lloyd could no longer enjoy the luxury of freshly prepared food. The twelve year old dipped a metal ladle into the pot of chicken flavored broth and noodles, scooping up some of the stuff and bringing the utensil to his lips to taste test, when he heard Zelos scream outside.
"THE NEW MOON WAS JUST LAST NIGHT, DAMMIT!!"
Genis accidentally splashed simmering hot broth on his face, burning the skin on his face as he stumbled backward onto the floor.
"Ow . . .What the hell is Zelos doing?"
After wiping his face with a dishrag, Genis dashed to the door. Before he slammed the door open, he saw the other five crowd the hallway, but they didn't leave the room. Little Genis yanked the wooden door open, stepping outside on the porch of Altessa's home. The first thing he saw was Zelos grumbling to himself while scratching the back of his head rather vigorously.
"If that's true, then we'll have to wait another whole damned month before we can harvest them, and Lloyd'll most likely have lost both his soul and his body at this rate! To top it all off, the technique to get them was lost a long time ago, so it wouldn't make a difference!!"
Genis snuck up behind the philanderer, and then he poked Zelos at the middle of his back.
"What're you doing screaming out here?"
"G-Genis! H-how are you doing?" Zelos stammered, whirling around while hiding a hand behind his back.
"And what can't be harvested at the night of a new moon? What was the technique that was lost?" the little kid pestered.
"N-none of your business! Is dinner ready yet?" Zelos changed the subject on purpose.
Genis nodded, directing the redhead into the house. He soon went after him, wondering what Zelos meant when he had to wait for the new moon to harvest something, and that it wouldn't matter anyway because the method was lost a long time ago. Oh, well. If it were related to Lloyd's Angel Toxicosis, he'd tell him. It was probably nothing important, Genis told himself. How very wrong he was.
Lloyd sat on the edge of his bed, holding his head in one hand. The heat was unbearable . . .how he wished he could walk so he could go for some fresh air. It was the dead of night, and the darkness was nearly impermeable. He figured he could just fly out, but he wasn't well enough to fly, and he was still a novice at controlling his angel functions. Also, there was the possibility that if he fell down outside or something happened to attack him, there was no way to get back here. The boy sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand. The irritation had leveled out, but was still affecting his weak body. Pain delved in and out over and over again . . . it was all Lloyd could do to just tolerate it without screaming.
Lloyd allowed his body to fall backwards into the sheets once more, feeling fatigued but unable to vanquish it by means of sleep, since he couldn't do that anymore. He closed his eyes anyway, wondering how the hell he could endure day in and day out without sleep, with the hurt increasing with each passing day. The red-clad boy sat up again, rubbing the palms of his hands against his face in frustration. That was when he heard it. There were soft footsteps close to the door, which were nearing him with each passing breath. Lloyd moved on the bed so that his legs dangled off the edge, looking wildly about the room for the intruder. He finally decided to shout for someone when something dealt a heavy blow to the back of his head, knocking him to the floor.
"What the hell?" He gasped, clutching at his chest, trying to regulate his breathing rates.
The last thing Lloyd saw before he blacked out was a pair of foreign boots moving toward him, and that someone who hit him muttered something.
"At long last . . ."
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