Here's chapter 1. I'm worried the format of this will be confusing; more or less, first part- anything in first person, not in italics, is Anna's POV. Anything in third person is Kratos (second half of the chapter). Anna's narration revolves around their meeting, Kratos' around the aftermath of "that day." I've done dual-narrations before, but never like this and I'm not sure I can pull it off; constructive critism is GREATLY appreciated.

That said: Enjoy.


I turned around a few times, trying to get my bearings. I was almost to Asgard, I knew, but I wasn't sure how far it was- or where, exactly. If I followed the mountains to the west, going south, I would definitely find it eventually, but the sky was overcast, I had no map, no compass, and no idea which way was west.

Something unusual caught my eye. A purple-clad man, kneeling, sword drawn. I cocked my head slighty as I watched him for a few minutes; he didn't move, even on a particularly viscious blast of cold wind. I frowned and headed towards him; as I drew closer, it became apparent that he was injured, and pretty badly at that.

He noticed me when I was about ten feet away, and staggered to his feet, sword at ready. I raised my hands in a surrendering gesture. "Take it easy, there, I'm not going to hurt you!"

The man started to speak, choked on his words, tried again and fell back to his knees. I closed the distance between us, and knelt in front of him. The worst of his wounds was one in his swordarm; his shoulder, to be exact. I blanched as I looked at it. It seemed that whatever did that really wanted this man dead. It also seemed to have been done by one of the Desians' serrated blades. So he's chased by those cretins too...

He was bleeding pretty badly from it. I drew my pack from my back and opened it; he hissed in protest. "Stop that," I scolded. "That's a pretty rude way to treat someone who's trying to help."

"Why?"

I looked up at him from my pack. His brown eyes were almost feral, mistrusting and paranoid. A thin line of blood trailed down his chin from the corner of his mouth, and his auburn hair was mussed, although I suspected that was it's normal state. He would have been handsome, if not for the dirt and blood smeared on his face. "Because," I said pertly, "I'm a nice person. And you're going to bleed to death if that isn't taken care of." He laughed at this, although it was a harsh, unjoyful sound that sent a shiver down my spine. Whatever they had done to him, the Desians had certainly put this man through the ringer. I sighed and resumed rummaging through my pack until I found what I was searching for: a roll of bandages. I ordered him to hold still and began wrapping the wound.

He did hold still, watching me with those mistrustful brown eyes the whole time. The tension in his back and shoulders seemed to say he expected me to jab at the wound at any time; partly to just be spiteful of this, I was especially cautious not to hurt him.

After five minutes or so, I sat back, looking at my handiwork. Those first-aid classes the priests gave in Luin really paid off, I thought proudly. The man and I had a staring match for a number of moments; then he averted his eyes. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"Don't mention it. Treat others as you would be treated, I say." I smiled at him, but he had gone silent again. "Where are you headed?"

He shook his head, looking off in the distance. "I'm just wandering."

"Oh." I really didn't want to just leave him here, but getting him to come with me was going to be difficult, I could tell. I extended a hand to him. "My name's Anna." He looked at my hand, then at me, and didn't move. "Wow, you're personable," I commented sourly.

"And you're stupid."

The shock at being insulted by the man who's life I just probably saved was almost too much for me. I frowned hard, and started to protest his continued rudeness when he spoke again: "I could have killed you the moment you finished binding this wound, if I wanted to."

A gust of wind blew my hair in my face; I tossed my head to get it out again. "But you obviously don't want to."

His eyes glittered with something I couldn't identify. "Don't I?" I blanched and froze; usually my instincts about people were dead on, but... was I wrong this time? "How do you know that?"

I shivered again at the icyness in his voice and pointed to his shoulder. "You're being chased by Desians, too," I stated, as if that was an acceptable answer. I knew it wouldn't be for this stranger, and I was right. He snorted and drew himself to his feet with a wince, and lifted his sword. I cringed, but the motion was to sheath it. I couldn't bring myself to relax now as he stared down at me. Expectantly. "Wh-what?"

"Are you planning on staying on the ground, or are you going to get up?" The quip was accompanied by his hand being extended down to me; I purposely ignored it and stood myself. Whoever this person was, the Desians could keep him for all I cared. Jackass.

I was about to take my leave of this unpleasant man when a gust of wind whipped past us. The scarf I wore around my neck fluttered in the wind briefly, and then was blown off. I made a grab for it with a surprised cry, and to my surprise the man did as well. He was the one who caught it; he turned to me and extended it, then stopped and gasped, his eyes going wide as they fixed on my neck. "You're..!"

My hands went to the jewel that was there, an overly ornate thing that the Desians had attached to me when I arrived at that ranch. I didn't like how this person was looking at it. "May I have my scarf back, please?" I asked, subdued by my self-consciousness.

He handed it to me and I wrapped to back around my shoulders and throat, taking note that the man's jaw still hadn't come up from the ground. I wondered if he knew anything about this thing; it was different than what the others at the ranch had put on them, and I was treated much differently, an odd cross of extreme cruelty and care. He managed to recover from his slack-jawed staring after a moment, and held out his hand. "My name is Kratos," he said, his voice softened significantly.

I, again, ignored his hand. "That's nice. By the way, I'm pretty sure this isn't worth anything, so you can drop the friendly act."

He frowned and dropped his hand. "I'm not interested in it for that. I've... never seen an Exsphere like that one."

"Is that what this is called?" I asked, curious now.

He nodded. "You said you were being chased by Desians. I would assume that if they're after you, it's for that Exsphere. Escapes are more common than they'd have us humans believe; they almost never follow them."

I tilted my head to the side, curiosity growing into intrigue. "You seem to know an aweful lot about Desians." He couldn't have been one of them, he was, very clearly, human; although I had seen half-elves with rounded ears instead of the token pointed. But that wound was obviously inflicted by a Desian weapon. A defector...?

Kratos paused before answering my inquiry. "I've done some research on them. I am a mercenary; I was hired by a wealthy merchant to rescue his daughter, whom had been taken to the Asgard Ranch. I was... discovered."

I narrowed my eyes at him slightly. That was impossible. For him to have gotten out as far as he had, and been in the battle that gave him those injuries- and it had to have been quite a fight, as he looked like he knew how to use his blade- he had to have infiltrated the ranch while I was still there-and there had been no alarm prior to my escape. He couldn't have gone past me while I was in Luin getting supplies, I was only there for fifteen minutes at the most. "Well, that sucks," I said, chosing to play whatever game he was up to, for the time being. "Did they discover who you were trying to rescue? If they did, she's probably going to be executed."

He shook his head, an odd expression on his face. "I carry nothing on me that could indicate my target on jobs such as this one."

"Well, that's good." I looked around, discovering to my dismay that I was more lost than I had been when I spotted Kratos. "You wouldn't happen to know which direction Asgard is in, would you?"

"I do, but it would not be wise to go there right now." He closed his eyes briefly, thinking, then looked at me again. "It would be better to go to Lake Umacy for now. Since they didn't find you in Luin, they're going to go right to Asgard."

"How did you know I was in Luin?" I demanded.

His eyes flickered with that strange emotion again; "I did not. Luin is the city closest to the ranch. It stands to reason that would be the first place they searched."

"So how do you know they didn't find me there?"

Now he looked exasperated. "You're here now, aren't you?"

I couldn't argue with that logic, and chose to shrug instead. "Don't get mad. You know as well as I do I can't trust anyone." A tight, ironic smile touched his lips, probably remembering how I immediately trusted him without knowing anything about him. "So, Lake Umacy. Lead on."

He nodded and we started walking, me following his lead. If he meant me harm, he had a nasty surprise coming, I thought as I fingered the stilleto hidden against my wrist. Trying to be pleasant, though, I attempted to strike up a conversation. "So, where're you from?"

"Iselia." The answer was too quick, and I had him in what I could swear was lie number two. I'd been to Iselia, many times. I'd never seen him there, nor had I ever heard his name in the village. Ever.

"I see." I gave him a faux smile. "I'm from Luin."

"I know. You've got the accent."

I made a face at him. "I don't have an accent!"

"Of course you don't." I debated whether or not Martel would forgive me for putting my knife in his back for simply being an asshole. I sighed as I decided she probably wouldn't appreciate that from someone who wanted to become a High Priestess in her church and made do with fantasies of having seen the man and completely ignoring his plight.

Or of shoving him in the lake we had come up on. Oh, sweetness...

splash!

What the hell was that for!

Well, you are all dirty and bloody. Didn't you want to get clean?

"What are you chuckling about?" Kratos asked me, his expression completely bland.

"Oh, nothing," I replied sweetly, relishing the thought.

"Hmph." He knelt at the side of the lake and scooped a handful of water up, then, before it could flow from his fingers, he splashed it over his face and used the end of his cloak to wipe it off. Then he dipped both hands in and rubbed them together; I assumed he was trying to get the various stains off them, too. I turned my attention to our surroundings as he washed up; the lake was certainly beautiful. This was one of the few attractions of the area I had never been to, and now that I had, I had to wonder why the hell not. I guess sight-seeing just wasn't my bag. Of course, now I had no choice. I'd be doing a lot of sight-seeing now.

Kratos finished his washing and stood, looking around, and I finally got a good look at him. I was right. Without all that crud on his face, he was quite nice to look at. It was too bad he didn't have a personality to match his pretty face, though.

I was about to ask him what he was planning now, when a loud bark startled me. I jumped and whirled in time to see a big green thing with huge ears bounding towards us. I screamed at the top of my lungs, so loud I barely heard the swordsman's yell for me to calm down. The creature skidded to a halt directly in front of my new companion; Kratos didn't look happy about it. "I told you not to follow me, Noishe!"

The thing whined plaintively at him. I could barely contain my bewilderment. "What the hell is that thing!"

Kratos gave me a sideways glance, not quite looking away from what I assumed was his pet. "A dog."

That was too much for me. My temper snapped. "Alright, Kratos, or whoever the hell you are," I growled. "I want to know who you are and what you want with me and I want to know right now."

He did look at me now, looking slightly puzzled. "I do not understand your sudden hostility."

Oh dear Martel, he was stupid, too... "Let me lay it out for you then. You didn't get injured trying to rescue someone from the Asgard ranch, you're not from Iselia, and that-" I pointed at the "dog"- "is not a dog!"

My anger was fanned as I studied his face. A grin was tugging at his mouth and he looked away, covering the lower half of his face as his shoulders shook slightly. This jerk was laughing at me! "Anna," he said finally, no hint of his mocking in his voice, "I've told you who I am. You can chose to believe me or not."

"Whatever. Look, I don't know who you are or what your deal is, but I'm not following you. I'm glad I could help you before, but I think I'm going to be on my way."

"Where are you going?"

"Asgard," I said over my shoulder as I walked away.

He heaved a sigh. "Very well," he muttered wearily and fell into step behind me.

After a few feet I scowled over my shoulder at him. "Go away."

"No."

"Great. I've got a stalker now," I sighed. "Why are you following me?"

I stopped at let him catch up, which took no more than four strides. "We're both being tailed by Desians," he said in a very patronizing tone, as if he were speaking to a slow child. "And you're interesting. Besides, it doesn't appear that you can defend yourself very well, should they-"

I cut him off with my stilleto at his throat. He hadn't seen me move, hadn't had time to react, and I smirked as the color drained from his face. "Oh? It seems to me that I can defend myself better than you can," I commented in my mocking sweet tone again, then flipped the stiletto back to it's hiding place and resumed walking.

I noted with dismay that he still continued to follow me. It was then that I decided that I didn't care. For all his lack of any social decorum, he intrigued me. If he left I wouldn't stop him, but I would tolerate him if he chose to follow. It was better than following him.


This city was familiar. Sand-bound, hot. Too hot. He was hot. He couldn't breathe. Every muscle in his body screamed for rest, but he couldn't let himself rest. Not while his Anna and Lloyd were in danger. Not until they were safe. Not until they were away from Kvar. The child in his arms screamed, screamed as though someone were stabbing him over and over and over and over...

"Shh, Lloyd, don't cry, please don't cry... Everything's okay, we'll get Mommy help and then everything will be okay..." but the child seemed unnaturally light and limp in his arms. He looked down at his son and his heart stopped at what he saw.

Blood. A mass of a bloody mess. He dropped the bundle of gore with a cry; the bloody bundle disappeared the moment it hit the ground, leaving behind only a tattered, torn, thoroughly-loved stuffed rabbit with only one eye.

He didn't quite comprehend it when he hit the ground beside it. A voice, a woman's voice, screaming, "Oh dear Martel! Someone get the healer! Hurry!"

It started as a faint sound. Faint, but unmistakeable. Lloyd was crying. Somewhere. I spun around, scanning the darkened forest for my son and calling out to him. His voice seemed to be the air itself, all around and engulfing me. I thanked Martel for my Angelic sight, otherwise I wouldn't be able to see; the canopy above was so thick that the night sky could not be seen, the moon's light couldn't reach. "I'm coming, Lloyd," I called out to him. "Just keep making noise! I'll find you!" Again, I looked around, still unable to discern the direction from which my son's sobs came, and arbitrarily picked a direction.

As I walked, his cries got louder. I couldn't tell if it was because I was nearer to him, or because he was growing more frightened. Or if he was being hurt. I began jogging at that thought, calling to him with a bit more urgency. I had to let him know that I was there, that I was coming for him.

Still his cries grew, and still they seemed to be coming at me from all directions, but now I could hear a word amist the sobs: "Daddy!" Over and over and over again, my god something was hurting him. He sounded in pain. I had to find him! I broke into a full run, frantic now, screaming my son's name, desperate to find him. All the while his cries and calls grew, echoing in my head, shifting in and out through the trees like a malevolent wind, and the accusation now in his cries reverberated in my very soul. I'd run as far as I could, I hadn't the strength to keep going. Lloyd's screams of agony and disappointment wrapped themselves around me like a vice, threatening to suffocate me. "I'm sorry!" I choked out, over and over again, but still my son accused..

Kratos awoke abruptly as the woman hit the ground and the lantern she carried clattered to the floor. A few moments passed before he realized what he had done. "Goddess," Kratos breathed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and moving to help the woman on the floor. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry!"

The woman accepted Kratos's hand and pulled herself up. "No, don't worry. I should have known better than to wake you with touch, with that kind of night terror you were in."

"Night... terror?"

"Yes," said the innkeep from the door. "You were screaming loud enough to wake the dead."

Kratos flinched at the analogy, but ignored it. "Where am I?"

"You're in Triet. You stumbled into the city a mess a few days ago," the woman told him. "We've taken care of you while you rested."

"I... Thank you."

The woman cleared her throat. "Who is Lloyd?"

He hesitated for a moment. He couldn't bring himself to speak his child's name. "He is... was... my son."

The woman glanced back at her husband. "That makes sense," he said gruffly, and strode forward. "This belonged to him, I assume."

Kratos took the raggedy stuffed toy rabbit, gazing at it, barely believing it was in his numb hand. "Yes," he said flatly.

"You were delirious when you arrived," the woman said. "You kept telling that toy to stop crying and everything would be all right."

"I... see..."

Silence descended again. "May we ask what happened?" the innkeep asked.

Kratos set the toy gently down on his bed. "You may ask, but I'm not sure... I can't... talk about..."

The woman put a hand on his shoulder. "Now then, that's okay. We know all we need to for now. You just concentrate on getting your strength back."

The innkeep nodded his agreement. "Just let us know if you need anything."

"Th...thank you."

The pair left, shutting the door behind him; he heard her say, very faintly, "That poor man. It must have been Desians."

Kratos let out a long string of obscenities at Yggdrasill and his angelic hearing. He could have done without hearing that. Once he'd spoken ever curse he knew in every language he knew, Kratos turned back to the bed and picked up the rabbit. Bun-Bun. That's what Lloyd called the thing. Kratos wanted to do away with it for months, but Anna scolded him- very harshly- every time Kratos mentioned it. It was worn, it was tattered, it was missing an eye and there wasn't a centimeter of the thing that hadn't been covered in baby drool at one point or another. Kratos would have been happy to get Lloyd another toy in exchange for getting rid of this ugly thing, but both his wife and son protested the proposition. Loudly.

Kratos settled down in bed again, pulled the covers over his head, and hugged the stuffed toy with all of his strength. Again, he slept.