Lalala, lookies, an update! Amazing!
Ummm, yeah. :sweatdrop:
Weeeell, I'm a bit too tired to give a little rant here, and I'm sure you guys all prefer it that way anyway.
Disclaimer: Tales of Symphonia and its characters don't belong to me.
Spoiler warning: Yes, this one's a Kratos-chapter and contains spoilers!
Pairing warning: Yaoi, Kratos/Lloyd! Honestly, you'd think people would read the darn warning and follow it. Oya.
Notes about the chapter: Alrighty, since one of my friends told me that she found the notes distracting, I'm going to stick them all at the beginning of the chapter. So first of all, you might notice that Kratos refers to Yggdrasill as both "Lord Yggdrasill" and "Mithos", at different times. Basically, he's referring to either the "Yggdrasill" personality or the "Mithos" personality. And second of all, the romance kinda sorta starts to develop? Except not really? But the story is romance, and I'm a mushy person at heart, so… eh-heh…
Answers to reviews:
Metasomatism – Yes, poor Lloyd. And, yeah, that was too perfect a time to not stop, even though I wanted to make it longer.
Reka – Thank you!
psychobreadfish – Thankies. And I find Kratos's POVs easier to write, actually. Possibly because I RP Kratos while my friend RPs Lloyd. I'm still moving slow on the romance, because it does need time to develop, but… eh, it's getting there. :grins:
ShimaGenki – Heh heh, I'm still very much in my Kratos/Lloyd phase. I've read Angel Sanctuary, and I like the incest there lots too. And no worries, I am ignoring the flamers. They're not worth my time.
ryder77 – Hee, thankies. I actually don't quite remember what happened in the game, so I'm making it up. Heh, the reviewer probably mentioned incest simply because I said the fic's Kratos/Lloyd.
Darkened Skyes – Yup, lots of it was for irony. I luff irony… :heart:
Xeora – Yup, he amuses me too. XD
speshul ed – Maybe Kratos knows, maybe not. He probably does know; he's very smart, after all. But I don't think he knows that he knows yet. :gets confuzzled:
venus tenshi – Yesh, I'm updating. :bounce: Whee, I'm almost 18! …I feel old. X.x
Ma-chan DaL – Thank you! And I'll update as fast as I can, really. Your English seems fine. Want to help me with French homework? XD
Link-luvr – Hee, thank you. But, no, you shouldn't be reading the spoiler chapters. I'm sorry! And yesh, lots of Kratos-luff!
Lord Ma-koto Chaoying – Thank you! And I agree, love is love, whatever the gender, relations, or whatnots. :smiles:
KyokixKurama – Yay! I look forward to it.
Ruaki – Thank you! I'll try my best not to disappoint.
Chapter Four – You Do Not Know
The Chosen's journey was going well. There were no real difficulties through the Seal of Fire safe for a single Fake. I am somewhat thankful that you and your young friend came along; if not for the young mage, we may have had trouble. I doubt that, with my current range of elemental magic, I could have taken it on. At least, not without revealing my true identity.
Of course, watching you dash towards another treasure chest, forgetting already our encounter with the Fake only moments before, I reminded myself that it was your carelessness that triggered the Fake in the first place. Had you not come along, I could have correctly steered the Chosen away from this threat. Or, sparing that, as Lord Yggdrasill did order me to expose the Chosen to danger, it would at least have given me time to prepare.
However, there was no point in dwelling on what could not be changed. I tried to convince myself that it was all for the better. Had you and your friend not found us, you would, first of all, likely still be in the Renegades' grasp. Even supposing you managed to escape, you would have chased us to this Seal, where you would undoubtedly have been delighted that one treasure chest, at least, was left unopened for you, and would have brought this monster on yourself. While you had the mage with you, it was clear that neither of you knew the Fake could only be hurt by magic.
…Yes, it was better that you were with us.
Was it, really? Was it better for this group to be betrayed later, than to die now? Was it better for me to know that my son, found after so many years, could die at any moment, than to hold on, for a little longer, to the belief that he was safe? Perhaps, instead of trying to gain your trust, I should keep my distance, lest a fatal attraction occur.
The thought surprised me. Attraction? To whom, and from whom? The Chosen was nothing but a kind and unfortunate tool of Cruxis, a snowy lamb to be sacrificed. The half-elven siblings would certainly be well-received by Mithos, but did not hold any particular interest for me. You, it was you who captured my attention, you who incited that protectiveness in me, the same that you had done so many years ago. But you are no longer my son; now, you are that man's. I had no hand in your upbringing. You are your own person. But one thought lingered in my mind, unrelated, irrational, and refusing to be silent.
You do not know that I am your father.
I looked up, just in time to catch your soft brown eyes on mine. For a moment, you looked panicked, before quickly averting your gaze and pretending that it had not happened. Your blush said otherwise, but I did not wish to press the matters.
Fatal attraction indeed. Fatal, fatal, fatal.
You do not know that I am your father.
Did I know? Did every part of me understand that, understand the implications? Perhaps not. Should I?
I was infinitely glad when the Chosen stood up and dusted herself off, asking if we would like to move on, now, to the final room of the Seal. That was for the best. I had informed Remiel when we first arrived at the ruins; he must be getting irritated with the waiting now, now that we stopped to rest before facing the last guardian. I wondered, sometimes, if it would have been better for Lord Yggdrasill to have sent someone more trustworthy, but then, what choices were there? Yuan was not even around most of the time, and I… I could not bear to be a father again, even in pretense.
The group was ready, ready to meet Remiel with his deftly-spun lie. Did you believe them? I could see the faith in your eyes, an almost fanatical glint. Our puppet angel had everyone fooled except for her, but she would not betray her duty. A true, worthy Chosen, willing, even, to dance to our masquerade, for a world that viewed her as nothing but a tool. Would you have gone along with it, if you were to be in her place? Would you have believed that I was your father?
The truth is harder to accept than fiction sometimes, is it not?
You do not know that I am your father.
"Kratos?" The Chosen's voice broke my thoughts. "Are you coming?"
"Of course." I stood; it was time to face the guardian. As we headed into the portal that would take us there, I kept my gaze steady on you. Do not be so careless again, Lloyd. Your professor is a fair healer, but blood on crimson fabric is difficult to spot for the untrained eye. Do not die, now that I have finally found you again. I clench my teeth at the painful irony. Do not die, though I may have to kill you later, with my own hands. Could I do it? For Lord Yggdrasill's – no, Mithos's – vision?
You turned and gave me your trademark confident grin before you disappeared into the portal, as if you heard the doubt left unspoken in my heart. Following you, I could only hope that such confidence holds.
As I had expected, you suffered a number of injuries in the battle against Ktugach. Of course, you would not admit any of them to me, even as I saw you rub apple gel on a burn. Stubborn and proud, just like your mother.
"First Aid!" I murmured as the Chosen stepped up to the altar to pray. The look of surprise on your face, as your wounds began to close!
"Ah… thanks!" you whispered and grinned, before catching your mistake. "Um, not that I was hurt or anything, I mean."
"Of course." I allowed myself a small smile in my mind. Even when you were young, there was no arguing with you.
You gave a small pout at my humouring tone, but quickly averted your attention as Remiel appeared. I hung back, as there was no point in listening to a speech I had heard hundreds of times. It was, however, a point of trivial interest to see the colour and shape of the Chosen's wings. Mithos had said that this was one of the most similar vessels to Martel. At least I could already judge that her personality was.
"Colette's an angel!"
The excited cry brought me out of my thoughts to check. Indeed, her wings, the manifestation of her mana, had appeared in the form that Mithos had predicted, different from ours. She was everything he had expected. No wonder he was so desperately to keep this Chosen alive until the end, unlike the others, to whom he paid barely any attention.
After Remiel left, I started to head back out. It would not be long before the Chosen collapsed from the mana depletion and metamorphosis by the Cruxis Crystal. "It is time to leave this place. I am sure the Chosen is eager to meet with her father at the next Seal."
"Y-yeah!" The Chosen gave a brilliant smile; none of you realized how forced it was. None of you noticed the pain she was in.
You would hate me for this later, hate me for hurting your friend. Hate me for betraying your mother's ideals, those that she carried to her grave. They were beautiful, the plans for the world that Martel once envisioned and Mithos now corrupted, but they did not have the undying force to survive. They could not survive when you were dead. As you may well be, again, when we reach the Tower of Salvation.
The world's salvation. Mithos's salvation, and my own… destruction.
As we left the Seal, the Chosen could no longer hold in her pain, and collapsed, though she made a valiant effort to keep it all in. A twinge of regret ran through me as you rushed to help her. Regret, jealousy, and something far deeper.
No one was there to hold me as I crumbled to the ground, those millennia ago.. No one was there to explain, or even to try.
No, no. I was too old for this, too patient, too wise for these thoughts. Too wise for other thoughts as well. I should know better.
You do not know that I am your father.
Of course not! I never told you, never intend to tell you. Ignorance is bliss, did they not say?
How much pain could it spare?
But, oh! How much harm could it cause?
You do not know that—
Shut up. I did not notice this rare anger until now, anger at myself, but for what? For knowledge I could never change? You do not know, and I wish I could be the same.
