Chapter 3

Heaven's Gate

It was a relief to leave so soon after. A relief to no longer see the accusing hateful eyes. To the human's of Iselia, the abandoned remnants of a military, he was a traitor... To the citizens of Iselia that had been captured he was a monster. And of both thoughts he was of that of the worst ilk, for he had been one of them. He had been a soldier among them, unapproachable, sarcastic yes, but at least he had fought for the innocent and protected the weak. In truth he was a seed of treason planted by Mithos, a seed that had harvested much information. How would those who so hated him realize that the man who ruled over them in his steed was the man that founded there churches. The soldier's screams to Martel, to the Goddess, all a sham, and that the man who filled in for Kratos and Forcystus as head of the ranch, was the one who made it all. One knife thrust, one drop of poison in the right cup, and not only would the world be healed but all those lives saved and so many more avenged. Of course that was if one could ever catch Mithos eating, could ever catch him in a moment when his guard came down. It was a futile wait, but those men so desperate would try if only they knew. They'd be worse then him if they didn't try. A sigh fell from his lips, his feet walking through the hours old battle field as sure stepped as if it was not slicked with blood.

The battle had been short, ugly, and quick. The casualties had been many on the human side, for the enemy killed themselves rather then be taken. In that they were wise, wiser then he perhaps. Blood dripping from his blade, Kratos absently wiped his sword on an already bloody patch of grass. A glance around the nightmarish scene, of scorched bodies and internal organs spread at the feet of at least half their foes, made him sigh. Couldn't they have found a different way to kill themselves, a more clean way? He looked around the grassy field, the destruction had been so great that had a child come here he would have thought the grass of the world to be red. He should have felt more for these people, he was one of them, or rather had been. All he felt was annoyance, he had been walking back and forth looting from the dead, looking for a damned patch of clean flora to clean his blade on for an hour. At last, satisfied from the catch of money, two hundred gald in all, he left the field, his feet walking a bloody path to the village.

As he walked on the dusty roads, and passed through the decimated Iselia, there was no one about. All the woman had been spared, all the men save the soon to be elected Mayor and a very few others were alive. Alive, and hiding in their homes, which had been left untouched. It was not mercy that the woman and children were spared, not compassion. Need and desperation must strike this town, and so cause for need and despiration had been made. From the severe lack of able bodied men their would breed no new military, from the lack of men there would be few children to be born, with the Desians less then five miles away there was no more desperate situation for an independent town like Iselia. The non-aggression treaty would be offered to the defeated people, and the old and weary left overs from the conflict would bury their sons in a grave and forget. Or they would pray to the last days that they would be allowed that honor by their goddess.

There had been no house burning, much to the Desian soldiers anger, no raping, no looting, alowed. Killing, they had there fill of that in the field, in the Ranch, and those orders had caused a great deal of tension between Cruxis and the Desians. A break, no, but tension yes. Once superior in man power the Desians could have ripped the weak Cruxis to shreds with a snap of their fingers, granted a thousand years had passed since that time, but the memory of that time was still in the half elven people. And so they had dared protested. Every superior officer of that Ranch who so much had whispered their anger during the announcement was found dead, their faces marked with such grief and agony that no one else dared protest. Kratos had appointed new officers, given Mithos command of the Ranch, and left.

His name to both Desian and Human had been death, his face so calm and reasoning when the bodies had ben presented to him. It was so much so that is what they called him Dieris Fa-sith, Angel of Death. In there ignorance, those words were humorous, but after the recent scare with Forcystus what humor he might have shared with his allies was slim. So he kept that humor to himself and walked away from the Ranch. As the burden of command left him, so too did the eyes. He was free to do what he wished...

Honesty made him admit that he wasn't free, but for a handful of years at least he could be overlooked. He traveled as he always did, a sword of steel on his back, two daggers in his boots, a weary eye to his back and to the world around him. Unlike most other times he carried some rations on his person, enough for one person to be well off for a two weeks. He walked the roads or a while, then when her path broke away he followed her trail. Followed and found her in less then a days travel. He was impressed, not surprised, but impressed. She had picked a place he would have, a river bank was her camp, a tent had been pitched a safe distance from the water. Not out in the open, discreet, and in this river choked section of Slyverant she was all but invisible.

For a long time he stood, hidden in the forest shadows by his black tunic and pants. As was his habit, Kratos drew his cloak around him, and as was it's habit the wind picked up when he did so. Sunlight fell around him, deepened the shadows in which he stood. It gleamed off of the steal hilt of his weapon, flickered as a star would, and Anna who had been bathing in the water looked towards him. He strolled out of the darkness, wove through the trees, and at the foot of the sandy beach looked down at her. His heart though quaked with every step, now he would know the truth. He had done much, had lied and murdered to get to this point, she knew he had, he had told her from the beginning what this would cost.

And the price to others spoke nothing of what he had done to her. He had raped her in an attempt to rip her soul from her body, to break her so utterly she would never defy him again. He had forced her purity from her, only to learn that this had happened to her before. The Desian's had done this to all the woman captives already, what he had dubbed force had been gentle to her. In her arms, his attempt to force her had failed. He had come in with the idea of breaking her like one would break a horse. She had in turn broken him, had turn what he mean to be a violation to ecstacy for both of them. He then had begun to come to her for pleasure, something that she who had so little of didn't bother to deny him, for it was a strange pleasure for them both. She then denied him that pleasure, and he had lashed out with blows. The pain in her eyes, it haunted him, tormented him. In guilt he began to treat her better. He fed her well, and having found pleasure in her voice allowed her to sing from time to time. He treated her much like he would a dog, giving her small treats for good behavior, small pleasures that none of her kin had. She in turn had become somewhat tractable, reined her tongue in from time to time, and that was their relationship for a few months.

She endured his ill humors, his depressions, his somber posing, and then finally informed him one day that she was not his god damned pet. The raw fire in her eyes had taken him a back, made him reach for a sword he had not been wearing. She then had served herself and Noishe then sat across from him, awaiting his response. Had it been any other he would have killed them with his own bear hands. She though, with her endless chatter and curiosity, with her joy, her love, she he found himself unable to kill. That's when it all went to Hell.

He had moved to, he didn't know, his soul had been a conflict of response that he didn't know what he would have done. Noishe decided the matter for him, and bit Mithos' second in command on the ass. How she had laughed at him! And despite his pain he found himself laughing as well. Noishe loosed his hold and barked at his feet, and that was when he knew. She, being the smarter of the two of them, had known since the first night. That night and there after had been the closest he would ever get to Heaven, and now that she was free it was her right to deny him. With a word or an action he would leave, he had promised to find her after, to give her some nessecities to ease her on whatever path she chose. A path that could very well be separate then his own. And if she did, though it made his soul bleed, he would protect her and support her in every way she would allow.

In all rights she should hate him, he hated himself fo all the misery he had caused her.

"Enjoying the view are you?" Anna stood on the beach, her delicate feet sunk into the soft sands. The scars on her arm, on her back, she wore them with honor. Each small pain had been a triumph for her, each breath a contest won against death. Water dripping from her breast seemed to shine as it caught the sunlight... He coughed, adverted his gaze. She only laughed at him and a familiar barking told him she was not laughing at him alone.

"Shut up Noishe!"

"Oh hush Kratos, he's only happy to see you." The rustling of clothing made him sigh in relief. Anna sometimes tended to be a little too direct for his comfort. "Aren't you Noishe! Yes you are, happy to see Kratos again aren't we?"

"We?" He still was focusing on the lake, Anna had the habit of stopping half way through something and going to something else more interesting. It was one of her few rude habits that humored him.

"Yes we, the catching here has been poor, and the last time I ate was... well last evening."

"Ah, I see." He reached for his packs, his hand gripped the foodstuff that he would drop and then he would walk away from her. Never to return. A hand closed over his, and he found himself looking into her eyes.

"You once told me that to look into someone else's eyes was to look into their soul. Can you see my soul Kratos, I can see yours." He adverted his eyes, but her hand, neither warm nor cold to his touch held his. "You feel bad, you're brooding. Again." The smile on her face made his lips curl just the slightest bit in response. "I also know that you think I'm going to leave you. That I'd just walk away after all that we've gone through together. I'm going to be blunt, like always, and you Kratos are going to look me in the eyes while I'm being blunt!" Guiltily he snapped his eyes on hers, the warmth in them let him frozen. Should the warmth of admiration turn to icy hate he could not spare himself, he could not look away. "I love you Kratos, I bear your child but that love has nothing to do with the child. I love you as a..." She flushed. "Well as a woman loves a man..." Her free hand slid across his back and he felt his wings slice their way through his back. Tinged with a trace of his life's blood they came into being, he gasped as the slight pain passed. She smiled, ignored the droplets of blood and stroked his wings with trembling fingers. "I'm just lucky, my man comes with wings, doesn't snore, and I don't have to feed him."

"You make me sound like a dog." He growled in false anger, she only smiled, continued to pet his wings for the longest of times.

"Good, then we're even."

"Vicious and vindictive, I have excellent tastes in woman." He mock grumbled.

"I don't know about your taste, but for mine..." She kissed him long enough to make him long for her but it was over swift enough that he was not consumed by his passion. "hmm a little too salty..." She laughed and pulled away from him. "You should smile more often beloved, it suits you." He flushed like a child at her word, a tide of protest rose in his throat. Her eyes, it all died when he looked into her eyes. "Come on!" She was all enthusiasm and smiles. And the smile on his face didn't wish to go anywhere. "I made a campsite all by myself, and I'm dying for your overly critical- I mean insightful review."