Review Responses
InuKratosStan: Thanks, and yeah they are very close but they wont admit it. You know how some guys are like that too proud to admit that they care etc. The main dynamic of the Kratos Yuan relationship. And this looks like it's going to be a long one, I hope to go through the first Iselia Temple with this piece (mainly cuz I didn't in Shards and I'm getting e-mails asking for details) and a little after. We'll see how it goes
Serrated Darkness: you'd see even more if I could find my humor fanfic titled "Yuan's Guild to Stalking" but he will be a big influence on Kratos in the beginning and I have a nice juicy conversation for them planned in the fic, so you'll see plenty of Yuan to satiate your Yuan needs (that sounded wrong lol) until I can find "Stalking"
ArkNavy: Well I'm glad you like, it goes on and will hopefully be of higher quality then "Red Earth"
GameCubeGirl1: Yeah I surprised me too, actually I had planed to put up "Broken" I wrote "Silliness" at two a-clock in te morning because my cat's were keeping me up(I was so relieved when they settled down I gave them a debut in my fic). And no I don't get confused because I have every rough draft organized and re-organized every week or so. So my paperwork isn't chaotic it's just keeping it all straight upstairs (taps head) that gets tedious. Yuan isn't exactly a hero this time, it's going to be a joint effort between all those Kratos is close to to drag him back. And the thing about Kratos killing himself... What's highly ironic is that because of what he is a normal weapon wont do the job, I've already established in DES that an angel can only get hurt in outstanding circumstances and with how fast they heal so Kratos can't destroy himself despite that it is his one wish. I think that the only thing that can kill an angel is Yggdrasil, or certain types of weapons.. But I'm still working all the theories out on that one...
Bleh now I'm rambling, thanks for the reviews everyone and I'll be quiet now.
On with the story!
If there is anything to save...
Chapter 2
Mithos sighed, he was feeling strangely nostalgic today. It was weakness, a blood filth trait to be sure, but today for once he decided to indulge in that weakness. He was as he had died, a child of twelve with sun golden hair and a angelic looking face that his sister had forever loved to pinch. He smiled slightly at that memory of her hand caressing his face, ruffling his hair, and in his blessed mind that never forgot allowed those memories to lap at his conscience. It helped him forget his pain for a span, forget the throbbing aching paths that ran across his back and stomach, that caressed him with burning fingers. Once long ago he had thought the pain in his heart, the echo of death that had come to him when the cruxis crystal had been placed upon him had hurt. Now he knew it was little more then an annoyance, the wounds inflicted upon by his seraphim and that woman hurt. They hurt, and would continue to hurt for all eternity.
He shifted his white vest over the same colored tunic, trying to ease the pain on his un-bleeding wounds. It was a futile exercise, for the skin was whole underneath and it wasn't friction that was causing the pain. He narrowed his crystal blue eyes as he walked through the halls of his castle, focusing on the nostalgia before he lost his temper.
Nostalgia, the heart of the matter was boots. He had been walking around barefoot and it came to his attention that he had not worn boots for three months now, and he was getting bored of walking around without them. Anyways he should try to keep up an appearance of normalcy, and so he had hunted for a pair of shoes. As he shifted through his private quarters, dug through the piles of clothes that covered the floor he began to get worried. He had found his boots and several copies of his adult forms outfit yet nothing for his child incarnation. He had to find some boots, Martel wouldn't have liked him to act completely lifeless, she would have worried for him. She probably would have thought he'd catch a cold or some other mortal nonsense. He would explain it to her how her fears were unfounded, but until he could he mustn't worry her. Frustrated that he wasn't finding what he wanted Mithos knocked over one of the three pieces of furniture in his 'suite' the chair designed for his child form fell over and with a loud "thud" lay on its back legs stiffly thrust into the air. It was there he found his first boot, pleased he picked up the brown boot, slid it onto his left foot, then realizing it was for the right he put it in it's proper place. After rooting through the piles of dusty clothes he decided that he really needed to make use of his closet sometime, he needed to organize, but he held it off, looking for the last boot. He found it after drawing his wings and flying across the room in a grid pattern on -of all places- his bookshelf. It had been used as a book mark of so he guessed by the fact that the length of leather that would fit over his ankle was jammed between some random treatise on angelic history written by some ignorant human scholar. Stuffed inside the boot, much to his disgust, was a sock that carried a very unpleasant reek common to all unwashed clothes. Tossing the book to the floor Mithos set the boot in his lap and with two fingers gingerly fished out the stinky fabric. A muttered word and he immersed the thing in angelic mana offensive scent and sock disappeared into nothingness. Sliding that boot on he got up and stared at the mess in his room.
Disgusting, you'd have thought he was some half-elf (or worse human) brat with no skills at keeping his room clean! He waved a hand and the clothes shivered like a mirage and into the closet on the far wall. The closet's door creaked as piles of clothes suddenly appeared and pressed against the boundaries of the rather small room. To open that door was to get buried under clothes, so therefore that door would stay closed until he bothered to take the time to fold and sort everything. Picking his way back to the door that would lead him out he paused at the body length mirror that was imbedded into the door, and frowned. The boots didn't match, they were an earthy brown and he was clad in white with threads of pure silver stitched into symbols of the church of Martel that proclaimed his status as the leader of Cruxis. A spell gathered in the ends of his fingers, he ran a hand over the leather, and it bleached to an acceptable shade of white at his touch. Quest for looking normal complete he began to wander around the halls of Welgaia's castle, of his castle.
Angels, perfect in from, in voice, and forms of respect lined the halls like marble statues. They did not bow to him, they had no life so therefore he did not require them to bow to him, they only looked straight ahead when he passed and lowered there eyes. Proper forms, four thousand years out of date, for one befitting one of royalty. Bowing had disturbed him, had made Martel angry, so he had done research about other forms of respect and had trained all of his lifeless beings in the proper form of manners. He smiled, pleased with their reverence, pleased by the statues of marble -lifeless and of mortal stone- that he walked by. He looked upon the world around him, the world he had crafted and dubbed it good.
Look, He exulted in his mind. See the nation I have crafted free of hate, of pain, look here and all of the in's that infest life are lost in the pure light that I have found, that I have wielded.
Yet, under his feet was a blood stain, a festering rotting pool of crimson lost in the mess of steel tunnels that were the support of his world. There a sinful creature, a tainted being, had come into the world. Breaking free of it's womb it came into the world in a climax of blood and pain, and drew the air of this pure world, his pure world. There for days, maybe weeks, the filthy murderous spawn had breathed, had suckled off the breast of it's corrupt mother, leaching the woman of her fluids in a disgusting show of human need. Yet it was fitting, he admitted to himself as he paused to stroke the polished steel banister and look into the ethers of creation that slid around his world on unfelt winds just outside the window, very fitting that in their life the child that should have not been and the temptress drew on each other for sustience and slowly killed one another. It was fitting, proper, the ways of mortals, an event that should was expected... He had spared them that, had spared those two creatures the pains of killing each other in the embrace of blooded beings pale version of love.
Kratos should have thanked him! Not go hiding somewhere under a rock grieving for such corrupt and inferior beings! Martel, he had not grieved so for her, she deserved more then what Kratos had given her!
Anger twisted in him, he whirled, stared at the nearest statue. His eyes so keen, never closing in rest, rarely blinking, swept over the angelic maiden made of purest marble. He, amongst all the perfection he had crafted, found a flaw in the statue. Snapping his fingers he summoned a bolt of purest light, and not even ashes of smoke marked the place where the statue had been.
"Replace that." Mithos snapped in his childish voice to the nearest angels. And they nodded, and soundlessly moved to follow his orders.
Xxx xxx xxx
He lay on the ground body heaving. Nothing came to his lips, no food, no water, it had been a long time since he had taken in either so therefore there was nothing for him to bring up. Physically incapable of purging himself that didn't stop his body from trying. He choked on nothing, his sides ached from the strain of gagging on air. Disgust was a vile bitter taste in his mouth, he choked in it, tried to force it out of his body. Clutching his stomach long shriveled by ages of not eating regularly the seraphim shuddered, whipped at his mouth though nothing was there. He was suffering from a mortal's reaction of seeing a corpse. His mind's need to purge the content of those hell fire eyes and wooden expression that he had seen on the man he had once called brother was so strong that his body had let the flame of his rage die and forced a mockery of sickness upon him. Now his anger burned like his dry mouth, like his throbbing sides. With a shaking hand Yuan pulled a strand of aqua blue hair from his eyes, the sight of Kratos trying to kill himself rose in Yuan's mind, made him shake. Of all the seraphim he was the weakest, the least in control of his mind. He was forever tortured by the past, seeing it play over and over in his mind and could be pinned for hours by his memories. Somehow Kratos had learned to function with it, worked around the overpower stimuli to be able to blend in amongst humans, so he had become Mithos' guardian angel to the Chosen's over the ages. Mithos had learned to ignore it, to just not think of the past... But for Yuan he hovered somewhere in between. He could ignore the mundane, the normal events of the past, and function with half his mind recalling the text of a book while he was reading another and be able to compare and contrast the two. What he couldn't do was function with his mind when there were emotions involved.
So he had tried his damned best to kill his emotions, to let go. In the beginning he had done so well, allowed Mithos to lead and submitted to the angel child's will that he had been constantly pointed out to by Mithos. The words 'You should be more like Yuan' had been Kratos' bane for the first millennia of there new existence.
Yuan remembered those times, not as he had before -with indifference- but now with a horrid understanding. He had seen in that room what Kratos had seen in him so long ago. He recalled how Kratos had come by every evening to talk to him, under the spirit of brotherly concern had been... fear. Kratos had feared for Yuan had tried to keep his brother seraphim from burning all the bridges of his mortality. And for good or for ill Kratos had succeeded. Yuan could sympathize with other beings, could see shards of himself in others. And it was when he had been ordered to kill a child, an innocent 'failed' Chosen that Yuan had rebelled. It was not the loud sweeping rebellion that Kratos had made, not the abandoning of his post, but rather a more subtle game. He had taken that child, had told her the truth, and hidden her from Yggdrasil after faking her death. She had been what had dragged him back, she had completed the breaking of his faith in Mithos, the breaking that Kratos had started by his endless protests and championing of the lives of the people in Sylvarant and Tethe'alla.
She had been his first renegade, the name was her idea, and between the two of them they had started the organization that he hoped would break the back of Mithos' power. She had died, and the memory of her long and painful death in Mithos' torture chambers made the nausea come back, it had been two millennia since he had last seen her alive, and almost as long as he had thought of her. Her cat green eyes had stared at him, at Kratos, had looked upon them as Mithos had brought the knife down. To keep from talking she had bit he own tongue out and with blood frothing her lips she and arched and writhed under Mithos blade. It had taken her two hours to die, and the angel of death and death's oldest friend had looked upon poor Rene with sympathy, understanding, and a hopeless anger.
The anger that that memory brought forth mixed with the rage that Kratos' torment had stirred, and his sickness abandoned him. There was now no more weakness in him, no paralyzation, only rage, and he welcomed it in full.
Xxx xxx xxx
A statue of onyx, a reptilian face with it's shattered skull leered down at him as he passed under the archway. It didn't matter, it wouldn't hurt him so he ignored it. Stepping amongst the heart of a blue-green circle the lord of Cruxis waited. Blue runes shivered, appeared and danced along the air around him, and then there came a flash of green light. Blinking Mithos stepped away from the runes, away from the circle, and into what could only be called a throne room. Part of a decaying castle of the elves it was the only room that he had kept as is, liking the crimson throne and the tan brick work. It was majestic, yet of simpler stuff then the more ornate halls and rooms of Vehelim. Still possessed of that infernal twing of nostalgia the leader of cruxis took the adult sized chair in his childish form. He swung his legs on one arm of the crimson throne, rested his head against the other, and let his body relax. Snapping his fingers he summoned a weapon more loyal to him then the Eternal Sword had been of late, kendama in hand Mithos began to tap out a counterpart of the ditty that his heels were drumming into the arm of the chair. His mind drifting back to simpler days.
"Kratos, look I'm king of the world!" Mithos chirped, sitting on the throne for the first time in his rumpled and travel stained grey tunic and pants.
"Mithos." Martel gently pulled him out of the chair. "That's very disrespectful, whoever owned the chair before you wouldn't appreciate you sitting there now."
"That's cuz he was a elf, all the elves hate us but they aren't here so if I want to sit here then I will!" Mithos shoved off Martel's arm, and plopped back into the chair. Then to spite her a little he swung his legs over one of the arms and rested his head on the other.
"Yuan, your turn." Martel sighed.
"No, it's Kratos' turn!"
"When did I turn into the disciplinarian?" Kratos growled, turning away from some moldy tapestry he was studying to glare at the blue haired half elf.
"Because you've got the perfect personality and visage for it." Yuan sighed, rubbing his head like he had a headache.
"Does the catch look less appealing because of the attachments?" Kratos said in a wicked voice.
"Human, shut up and or I'll ram an Indignation up your..."
"Yuan!" Martel smacked the man she was yelling at lightly on the arm. "Don't you dare finish that, Mithos is learning enough profanity from Kratos as it is. And if you did cast the spell you'd hit everyone in the room!"
"You concern moves me oh Goddess." Kratos' lips curled into a mocking smile, Martel gave him a death glare that she learned from seeing the mercenary give it to everyone else.
"I'm not a Goddess, it's just some silly poets description of me, and no one's -thank Luna- taking it seriously!"
"Oh someone might be." Kratos shot Yuan one of his funny adult looks that Mithos didn't quite get and Yuan went red.
"Shut it merc."
Lips twitching the mercenary turned to his pupil. "Out." The mercenary ordered Mithos, then as the half elf moved to get out of the chair he was surprised when Kratos took his place.
"Kratos!" Yuan and Martel chorused in angry voices.
"Kratos you're so cool!" Mithos chirped, hopping -much to the human's mortification- into his lap. "You're the bravest guy ever!"
"Indeed..." Kratos was looking at an angry Martel. "We shall see if I live the week out for this one."
Noishe abandoned his favored perch of Kratos' shoulder to get out of range of Martel's death glare, and flapped over to a rock some goodly ways off.
"If you aren't out of that chair in five seconds I'll cook you-know-what for a week."
Kratos stood, cowed in by that threat.
"Not so brave now are we oh great and powerful mercenary." Yuan's lips curled into a mocking smile of his own.
"You know what magi, you can shove an Indignation up your.."
"Language gentleman," Martel snapped, and both men went quiet. "We are traveling with Mithos, he's thirteen, so don't say words like... that!"
"As you will." Kratos bowed, albeit mockingly, the slight curl of his lips telling them all he had only been so stubborn for the sake of his twisted sense of humor and that they were going to be on the brunt of a little more. "So how much are you paying me again?"
"I thought we weren't doing that anymore!" Yuan protested, probably thinking back to Kratos' original fees that had been a massive drain on there funds.
"My words were that I would not ask you to pay me for escorting and protecting you three, punishing the shrimp -I mean Mithos- costs extra."
"Stop making fun of me!" Mithos wailed, then getting an idea he scrambled up the chair and stood on the throne's gold gem encrusted back. "Ha now I'm taller then you all!" He struck a pose, ignoring how his sister giggled and Yuan came down with a suspicious coughing fit.
The throne of course tipped and he fell down with a wail.
None of them laughed harder then he did once the pain went away. Chuckling the Hero's degenerated from talking about the demon touched that infested Tethe'alla to making short jokes, which while Mithos was the butt end of most of them made some rather cutting counters about how tall people (his sister always excluded) had smaller brains because the air was thinner at higher altitudes. Walking through the ruins of the elvish city from long ago, walking on the length and width of the false moon that some strange and alien force was holding to the world, the companions, the heros of Sylvarant, fell into mock bickering, which farther degenerated into a mock three way sparring match between the males. And it was then, over dinner that they learned how dumb it was to ignore Martel as they had during their play, she healed them with no complaint, scolded Mithos for using fire mana and then served them dinner. Dinner consisted of spaghetti laced with tomatoes -which Kratos hated- onions and mushrooms -both which Yuan hated- and desert had a heavy coating a cocoanut which was in Mithos book the most nasty food ever.
He blinked, those memories and all the others that played in his angelic mind slipped out of his grasp as a flash of light from the runes dragged him back to the here and now. Frowning Mithos glared at Yuan, and his glare lost all of it's venom when he took in the pale and trembling seraphim.
"Yuan!" He struggled out of his chair, cursed his laziness that had made him allow his limbs to relax like a mortal's would. "What's wrong?"
"I found him..." It was a hiss, filled with such anger the leader of cruxis cringed back in the chair, thoughts of going to Yuan turned to thoughts of running away. "Come my lord, it's time you saw your handiwork."
"What are you talking about?" Mithos frowned. "Why should I go anywhere? If you know where he is then bring him here."
"He's already here, he's been here for a month, maybe more."
"Well then bring him in this room." Mithos sighed, annoyed at having to basically draw a map for his third on command. "And I'll deal with his lapses, I imagine I'll just need to lecture him or something and that will be... What are you...?"
Yuan strode across the room, grabbed his wrist and threw him to the floor. Grunting more on reflex then pain the leader of cruxis cursed as his kendama went flying from his hands and skittered out of his reach. Well he didn't need the toy to defend himself anyway! He rolled on his back, words of power gathering in his mind...
Yuan only grabbed his wrist, and dragged him across the room to the teleport pad. Snarling an oath as he lost the words of his spell Mithos thrashed kicked, and on instinct bit the older half-elf. No response, and every time he tried to cast a spell he was roughly shook. So through his castle, down the floors sheathed in rich carpets and marble walls sheathed in onyx Mithos was dragged, shook, and in one case not so accidently shoved down a flight of stairs. Through the marble buildings of Welgaia, through the maze of buildings so pure the would bring tears to the eyes of gods, he was dragged, until they came to a familiar house at the very outskirts of the city of angels.
"Put me down!" Mithos roared in his adult voice, ready to change and firmly put his underling in his place.
"As you wish my lord." He was dropped, and he glared bloody daggers at Yuan. The seraphim did not pale, his nostrils were pinched in rage, his eyes mere slits. "He is incapable of seeing you, you must go to him. If you had asked that instead of fighting I might have let you walk." The pure hate in Yuan's eyes deepened if at all possible. It spread beyond his normally expressionless eyes and soaked his face with a crimson hue. "No... I don't think I would have done that. Don't look for me Yggdrasil, to cross my path until I am in better control over myself is to lead to the death of one of us."
Drawing his wings the seraphim flew off, perhaps to go hide in his pathetic excuse of a ranch in Triet. It didn't matter, Mithos would ignore what Yuan had said, hunt the bastard down later and punish him so that the outrage he had been put through would not occur again. Gritting his teeth, he decided to see that his seal didn't die and then deal with Yuan. Cursing under his breath he went to the door, stepped through the broken entrance and thought nothing of how -upon entering- he heard the sound of bells.
Xxx xxx xxx xxx
Pale, trembling in from raw emotion, Mithos stood before a more composed Yuan. Both men had forgotten the incident, the humiliation underling had inflicted on superior. Or that's what Yggdrasil assumed. Yuan had not forgotten, and rather pettily wished he had taken the opportunity to shove the monster down more stairs. He mentally pursued the wish that he had Kratos' Flamberge on hand, since the blade had wounded Mithos before and he had had caught the beast off guard with his roughness. How easily it might have been to slip the enchanted blade into Yggdrasil the other day, however that day was long gone, he would have to wait for another. But being what he was he had eternity and could afford the wait, if only the world too would be just a bit more patient and not press upon him to act. Patience was tried to the limit when you are fighting an immortal foe whilst being immortal yourself. For now he banished thoughts and plans, and focused on what really mattered, the welfare of his oldest and sole companion from days long ago.
"Why is he like this?" Mithos growled, he was in his childish form, too shaken by what he had seen to assume the illusion of his adult form. It had been days, and Yuan felt just a tiny sliver of pleasure over the fact that the powerful Mithos Yggdrasil could be shaken, distracted... He would remember that, store it away in his plans for later.
"How were you when Martel died? Anna was to him what Martel was to you. He loved her, loves her now, which is why he strives to find her again. Faced with an eternity stretched before him without her he tries to make the pain stop along with his heartbeat. Just be grateful that he's lost his sword somewhere in Sylvarant because we wouldn't have come into him as he was, he would have been dead, then you would have lost your precious seal."
"Yes, but he'll find a way to kill himself if we leave him how he is, he would have wanted us to keep him alive if he was in sane mind. After all he agreed to this, said it was for the best, to save the worlds, that's why you've both stayed with me, to save the world." Mithos frowned, stared at nothing, went so utterly still that he looked as alive as one of the angel guards outside. "You weren't like this when Martel died, why is he like this?"
I was and you never saw because you might as well have been dead to the world. It was all because of Kratos I'm still alive now. He took away every knife and sword I could get my hands on, and stood many sleepless nights over my slumber to protect me from myself. He dragged me off to cry, to curse the world, to curse all of humanity and it's sins. And when I was as healed as I ever could be he left me to take care of you so he could try to destroy himself in drink. You never saw him half dead, eyes filled with the horrors of the poison that had seeped into his blood, trying to kill himself for a woman he dubbed as his sister. Then it was my turn, my time to bring him back, and that's where I screwed up, you see I brought him to you and you put a poison more potent into his mind then any he was drowning himself in. He took your lies as truth and you turned him into a seraphim.
Yuan did not say those words, did not say that truth, he merely stared at the air lost in that long ago time and it's still agonizing grief.
"What's wrong with him!"
"He lost his lover, his son, and his oldest friend." Was all Yuan said, fighting with himself to not scream the truth, to not indulge in the impulse of reaching down and wringing that neck.
"He has us!" Yggdrasil snapped. "It's not like he's lost everyone he knows."
No, just everyone he loves.
Yuan said nothing, offered nothing, stared blankly into space and seethed as the old and new rage came back.
"You have something on your mind Yuan, say it!"
"Tell me, when you went into the room, how hard did he close his hands around your throat, obviously it was enough to muddle your thinking." Yuan spat, hands clenching into fists. "You've done a hell of enough to him! If he wants death let it take him, he's suffered enough, let him go Yggdrasil."
"No, Martel-"
"Don't you dare say this is in Martel's name! Don't you ever slander her name by tying your corruption of her wishes to her, ever!" Yuan snarled, it was suicide to strike Mithos so he settled on slamming his fist into a nearby pillar, and with numb satisfaction watched as the delicate pattern that ran it's surface cracked under his blow.
"You disapprove of what I did..." There was pain, all calculated to strike at Yuan's heart, to bring back old memories of comradery, and if he fell for that it would only take one moment before the damned snake got it's fangs in and poisoned his thoughts.
"Like hell I do, sixty years at most Yggdrasil and they all would have died of natural causes! What is that to us, we who have lived for four thousand years of life! Nothing, a blink of an eye, I've taken vacations that are longer and so has he!"
"Did you know, brother, what he had planed? What that woman said to me, what he said to me, what they both did? Did you know he wanted the eternal sword for himself? That through his efforts he's cut my contact with the blade down to nothing!" Mithos roared, his temper falling to bloody shreds. "He's done more damage then those damned Renegades, that woman made him do it! She forced him from me, from m— our ideals!"
Yuan forgot to breath, stared at Mithos in total shock, and thinking he had a compassionate audience the lord of Cruxis decided to vent.
"I told him that he had broken from our ideals, I offered to make her what he was and he denied me. I offered to make his son into one of us and again he has the gall to deny me, to turn me down!" Mithos made a tossing gesture and one of the walls was pelted by a lightning bolt. "He called me monster screamed for Origin to allow him to strike me down after I gave his wife immortality... And Origin agreed." Mithos rubbed his side, something he had been doing a great deal lately. "He hurt me Yuan, I've never hurt like that before, and it never stops hurting."
Now there were tears, genuine tears in Mithos' eyes.
"I heard that she was turned into a monster." Was all Yuan said, and Mithos looked at him in disappointment, as if wanting his old friend to hold him and offer to take the pain away. Yuan would rather have comforted a crying crocodile, he'd have been safer.
"She had died, Kvar killed her against my orders and I brought her back."
Yuan turned to Mithos a frown on his face.
"You aren't a healer, Martel was the only healer we ever knew and I know she tried to teach you her craft and you never learned. Are you telling me that you somehow acquired a unicorn horn and cast the spell upon Anna?"
"No," Mithos snorted. "Why should I take so much effort over Kratos' pet? I brought her back, and made her immortal, I never said anything about restoring her life."
"You animated her corpse?" Yuan's face felt hollow, empty, unable to feel cold any longer he could not feel how the lack of blood chilled his cheeks but he could tell by Mithos' scornful expression that he was as pale as could be.
"I used her exsphere to gather a bit of her soul, infused that in the carrion and then gave her basic motor function back by using the demon seed as a chanal for my power.
"Yggdrasil..." Yuan felt a strong urge an urge that he was going to lose to in a heartbeat, but if he said nothing he might be suspect. "If you had done that to Martel, or to anyone I knew I'd do a Hell of a lot more then go for your throat. Don't you remember what the demon seeds harbored? Kratos' commander, half of the damn Tethe'alla government and those cults we had to fight against in Sylvarant were all dedicated to those things! You swore to me you destroyed them all!"
"Exspheres leave them behind as a residue in a human host body when they are extracted." Mithos said in a tone more suiting if he were explaining to someone that the sun would always rise on the same side of the horizon. "I destroyed all the old ones, but there are no few new ones that are being made and destroyed in the ranches every day."
And how many are slipping through the cracks? Being forgotten or experimented on because they radiate so much power?
"I have business else where." Yuan whispered. "I'm going to keep an eye on Kratos, my advice and orders are this. Stay the hell away from him and don't even bother to contact me I'll be out of touch. Hopefully we'll be back in time for the Regeneration, if not then make do with someone else."
"You're saying as a friend I can't help him." Mithos growled.
"I'm saying that since you are the person who killed everything Kratos cherished and loves that if you go to him as he is now he'll keep trying to kill you." Yuan could not keep his malice under control, that's what forced the words out that could be so damning to him later. "And if he does... I would not stop him."
"So you'd abandon me as well?" Pain, tears, Mithos made a mockery of them even as he had made his closest friends' into a mockery of themselves.
Yuan didn't bother to reply, he left Mithos to whatever sick plans the bastard would make, Yuan's only concern now was how to keep Kratos away from Yggdrasil. How to protect Kratos from Yggdrasil, if there was anything left to protect that is.