Reviewer responses:
Memumbo: Cool my first dose of internet speak:) Wootage is good right? Chuckles Oh well your wish is granted, an update and hopefully another one right after. And I hope you like where it does go in the end.
Serrated Darkness: It is a dark fic, hence the ranking, it's probably not going to have another suicide attempt but the first attempt and the overall darkness is why I put the ranking as high as I did. Kratos adressed the question a little in this chap hold on and I'll give you a fuller explaination as the tale unfolds.
Ark Navy: You do know that Yggy is an abreviation for Yggdrasil right? It sounds like you mean Yggy is Yuan... I dunno guess I'm confused. Glad you like Yuan and that you picked out my fav line from the fic so far and I hope you enjoy it as more turns out!
GamecubeGirl1: Yeah dark/serious but not too angsty I hope. Oh well every genre has it's place. I want to see Yuan wring Mithos' neck, matter fact want Kratos to run the runt through but that would change the TOS story line. Yuan has a big part in the begining and end, but it's not just Yuan, expect to see Syt andAltessa, as well perhaps even someone you might not expect. Kratos is going to have to save himself, no one can save you for you, it's always in the self... And hopefully that's what this fic will say all on it's own in the end.
Author's note: Trying to finish this ASAP since I only have a few days till my schedule becomes even more tightened. Random note, wrote this listening toe evenesence's "Hello", seems to fit the song and I actually was thinking of lyrics as I wrote certian sections. Wierd huh, well it's dark but this fic's only going to end on a faintly hopeful note. I'll try to put up next chapter later this week.
Kasan Soulblade
Chapter 3
The fallen angel
Metal sighed from between his fingers, it was the only sound, the only response to his presence he had gotten in an hours time. Slow at first then picking up more speed the seraphim rolled the chain between two fingers. At last Kratos paused in his neurotic caressing of the metal to tenderly kiss the locket.
"There is a way out, you know that… if it's too much to bare there is a way out."
"For me, there is not." Kratos sighed, his hands went though the motions, allowed the oval talisman slide down the chain, then slowly gathered the chain with his fingers and when he held it again he allowed it again to slide back down. "That path is closed for me."
Yuan swallowed, torn between relief, frustration, pity, and anger. He smiled darkly, how they were all trapped in such base things as there emotions for such enlightened beings. How damn ironic.
"He doesn't know, of your friend… the fisherman… I made sure of it."
No response came from Kratos, save the whisper of chain caressing angelic flesh, but then Yuan wasn't expecting anything resembling coherence from his oldest friend. He knew what it felt to lose a wife, and it was a miracle that Kratos was even talking to him, acknowledging the world in any way.
"You shouldn't stay here, all you're doing is thinking of her. You need to keep yourself busy or you are going to trap yourself in your mind." Yuan said, trying to sound authoritive, and failing utterly. "Please Kratos; she wouldn't want this from you."
Yuan reached out to take his old friends shoulder, and was not surprised when Kratos allowed him to do so but did not respond.
"Come with me, I have some tasks to run in Tethe'alla, and I would be good to travel with you at my side. There might be something we can do, something against him, but if there is I don't want to do it alone. I need your help old friend, and now what do we have to lose but our sorry excuses that serve as lives?"
"I have to live… there is still something I must do, and I must do it alone." Kratos' voice was horse, not from lack of drink as a mortal's would be, but from a prolonged fit of screaming, of cursing the gods and whomever had denied him death. Yuan had missed that event, had missed the wild animal rages that had bleed into half hearted attempts of Kratos tying to kill himself. Yuan had stumbled onto the latter event, had heard the angels talk in dull voices of the former.
"Then travel with me, for the sake of keeping me company, we can hold off the dangerous part for some time."
Kratos paused, the locket resting in his palm, still closed, closed and obscured by those long fingers. Yuan knew why, he had done much the same of his picture of Martel, hiding them away until the pain had died down enough so he could bare to look at her again, if only that look was granted to him by canvas and paints. The auburn haired seraphim shook his head and Yuan bit his lip, another purely mortal response, as he metaphorically bit down on frustrated protests and pleas.
"If you change your mind I'll be in Tethe'alla, you know how to find me there, where to leave messages. The second I get notice that you're looking for me I'll put down what I'm doing and be there as soon as I can." Yuan tightened his grip. "I have something… I don't know if you want it or not and I apologize if I offend you… God knows I can't figure out that strange religion of yours I get lost between the tales of elementals, seals, and all that, but I thought… It helped me, if only a little."
Yuan pulled out three lengths of beeswax that he had tied to his belt. They crinkled in there tissue paper sheathes, and the blue haired seraphim walked up to the cleaned altar and lay them down. He had spent the day going through Kratos' home, through every room that had been left open and had broken the doors that had been locked. When the auburn haired seraphim actually went to look for anything with an edge he'd probably be infuriated that Yuan had taken every sword, every knife –even the butter spreading knives- and had them locked up safely in his Triet ranch. Since he couldn't be here Yuan was going to do his best to protect his old friend, even if Kratos didn't particularly appreciate that protection. He'd have stayed, he wanted to… but the notes coming from the Renegades were getting more shrill and desperate. His second in command was sliding into senility it seemed and that half elvish blood was no longer protecting him. They were trying, God knew they were still harassing the Desian's and stealing what technology they could, but without steady leadership the raids were racking up more and more lives. Too many lives, far too many, he had to go back before they got themselves into a bigger mess then they could handle.
"It's a custom, where I was born… that when someone dies, someone we love, we burn a candle in there memory. We use the flame only to light that candle's replacement when it is time to switch them out. It's to remember the life and light that they gave to us, to cherish it." Swallowing Yuan rolled one of the candles in his hands. "Kratos, you have to leave Derris Kharlan, I've threatened Mithos so that he'll leave you alone, but I won't be here to keep him away from you. He will come for you, so just… be careful…"
Placing the length of wax on the table Yuan released Kratos, turned and left the dark room whose shadows writhed at the grief that the fallen seraphim was radiating.
Xxx xxx xxx xxx
Her scent tormented him, his hands trembled as he caressed her. Never before had they trembled, never had he been in someone's thrall. She was beautiful, so very beautiful, magnificent in the way only a human could be composed of perfections and imperfections. She smiled at his touch, as his fingers slid across her belly and halted. There, where there was only smoothness a few months ago was a slight bulge, Kratos smiled as the pure force of that life under his hands, under his wife's heart, made his hands tingle. She smiled at him, kissed his cheek and he smiled not caring that he looked like every other young fool who knows he's a father and it's only a matter of time.
"I never thought, for a moment, that I could be a father."
"That implies that you think." Anna whispered, drawing the covers over them both. He drew his arms around her and she sighed contentedly. She was so tired, drained, and drew on what strength he could give her. "Hmmm this is nice."
"Warm, comfortable?" He asked, his voice so strained with worry she cracked an eye open at him and chuckled.
"Everything is fine beloved." She whispered, kissing his shoulder, since it was so conveniently close, and decided to curl as close to him as she could. "Nothing could be better."
No truer words had been spoken. He smiled, as she muttered a half slurred question that sounded like 'are you comfortable?' but she never quite finished it, and drifted to sleep in his arms.
Xxx xxx xxx
"Daddy! Daddy!" Lloyd ran arms filled with red leaves. "Look, look the leaves are all changin' colors, just like in your story!"
"That's nice..."
Kratos cracked an eye open, stared at the pre-dawn world, while he had not been asleep and the disruption wasn't a problem for him. It could become a problem for them both in five seconds though. Anna stirred, muttered how it was his fault, then firmly shoved him out of the bed. Unable to save himself from the unorthodox attack he tumbled out of the bed with a loud thud. Anna only pulled a pillow over her head, snatched the covers, and looking much vindicated took her hoard of blanket, pillows -she snatched his since he was on the floor and obviously not needing it hence the plural-, and proceeded to some how curl up into a ball and yet simultaneously take up most of the bed.
"Mom-"
Kratos gave his son a sharp look and Lloyd wisely fell silent.
"Let's not court death so early on in the morning."
"Whatcha mean?"
Glad that he was at least wearing undergarments the seraphim quietly picked himself off the floor. Putting a finger to his lips he ordered Lloyd to remain silent, then crept to the dresser. Pulling open the drawer he pulled out the first pair of clothes his hands fell upon, grimacing at the dark red garments, wondering how Anna had manipulated him into buying something so tasteless, Kratos quietly got dressed. Lloyd not so quietly followed him, the boy's every step was punctured by a giggle or the crinkle of leaves being turned to powder, and it was by some miracle that Anna did not retaliate at their loudness with a thrown pillow. He was dressed, Anna drifting off into slumber, he lead Lloyd outside the inn's room and in his best "grouchy adult" voice -Anna's name not his- demanded how Lloyd had gotten outside. Noishe received an earful from his very irked seraphim friend along with a utterly tasteless breakfast and a promise of half a plate for dinner for his stupidity. Lloyd of course would persuade him to lighten the punishment, or if nothing else give the protozoan part of his dinner, but that wasn't the point right now.
"Daddy you think Efreet made Celsius happy this year?"
Recalling his story to Lloyd how Efreet would set flames in the hearts of plants, flames so small that the leaves would reflect the fires and during there last days be as a flame in color and in life cycle then turn to dust Kratos smiled.
"If winter is long then the answer is no, if winter is short then the answer is yes."
"Why does Efreet make all the plants go red?"
"Because Celsius loves color, her world is snow and ice and you know that those things only come in so many shades. Efreet gives her as many colors as he can so that when she comes and brings winter with her she can see, it only for a short time, all the colors her snow and ice can never show her."
Lloyd frowned, stared at the bundle of leaves in his hands then looked questioningly at his father.
"Go ahead." Kratos smiled, ruffled his boy's hair. "Do you want me to come along?"
Lloyd shook his head and tromped off to the door leading out, and while Kratos did not follow per-se he did happen to drift by the door to supervise Lloyd's little foray out onto the massive root that served as a road for those who lived in this part of the tree. When a lively wind picked up, Lloyd tossed the leaves into it and giggled as they made a snow of red.
"Take those to Cellsus Sylphies!"
And perhaps Sylph was taking the leaves to Celsius after all, for the wind that had been going westerly shifted and turned to the north.
Xxx xxx xxx xxx
He groaned, rolled over on the bed, it was empty, hollow, as was his heart. He closed his eyes so he could better plunge into the world of dreams, where for only a few hours time he could have them by his side once again. Something touched him, he did not want to be touched. To be touched was to be awakened. Away from the hands, those small hands that were far too rough to be his son's. His son who was dead and the murderer was shaking him awake.
"Kratos you've been sleeping for days!" The child's voice, that God's damned false child's voice. "Please I'm scared, you're scaring me, come back please!"
Kratos cracked open an eye, his eyes were more black then brown, yet were somehow a color in between both shades. He looked out from a curtain of auburn hair, glared at the child who was not a child.
Clad in white shirt and pants, sporting a vest with silver embroidery he looked every inch a youth who was to serve in some Tethe'alla chapel. That head filled with golden hair framed that heart shaped, fell into those dark green soulless orbs; he looked the stereotypical image of an angel.
Considering how he had inserted the religious propaganda, how he had sculpted the very faith of millions for his needs perhaps that was not so surprising.
"You're awake, good!" Small arms infolded him in a hug, his mind half clouded with self induced sleep wondered what was wrong. Then suddenly he recalled, and shook off those arms and firmly shoved that false youth off of him.
"Where is Yuan?"
"What?"Mithos cocked his head to the side then smiled. "Oh you must have forgot, how many times have I told you sleeping wasn't healthy? It makes you forget things, and you're not supposed to forget anything."
"Answer the question." Kratos rasped, his eyes seemed to burn and Mithos took a step back and promptly forgot that he was not the apprentice in the presence of his very ticked off mentor.
"He went to Tethe'alla." Mithos stared at the bed that Kratos kept in his personal chambers, his lips curling with just a hint of scorn. "He wouldn't tell me why but I decided to come by and cheer you up!"
Really, and would it surprise you to know the only thing that could possible bring me cheer is to lay you out on one of Kvar's tables in a black room and torture you for several decades? How would you feel old friend if I said that?
"You're up, and I bet after that sleep things look better."Mithos chirped, and though he was sounding friendly enough there was just a hint of steel in the voice, as if to say Mithos better never see his second in command acting as a mortal and seek sleep.
Then perhaps thinking he was welcome the small angel sat on the edge of the bed.
The bed where he saw was where she had lain in sickness. The bed where healed and with child growing ever restless in her womb she had lain to seek energy behind closed eyelids. In his embrace, for weeks, she had slept here. Where now, profaning it was this bastard, this murderous soulless son of a bitch, lips curling into a snarl the seraphim merely narrowed his eyes. Shivering Mithos, lord of Cuxis, understood his mistake and slid off the bed.
"Get out." Kratos closed his eyes, deciding that he could spend more time better served in remembrance with the bastard gone. "Leave me alone, and if you ever come into my house without my permission I'll kill you."
"No."Mithos stomped a foot, glared up at his old friend who was trying to fall back asleep. Thinking fast Yggdrasil forced his expression to be harder then steel and his next words were laced with ice. "If you fall asleep again I will go to Kvar's ranch and play the sounds of your pet in his torture chambers."
The eyes once empty and filled with dull resignation flared with a hint of fire, rage so intense it made the previous glare as nothing battered against Mithos Yggdrasil, and despite himself he drew his wings and took a step back. Bathed in the soft violet wings' light the shadows on Kratos' face seemed to multiple, seemed to make him little more then a shadow.
"What I do on my own time is my business Yggdrasil," Kratos' voice was soft, liquid malice, and as he took a step forward the lord of heaven took a step back. Power crackled in the seraphim's hands, a hellish white light that promised pain to the one it connected to. "What I do in my home is my business, whom I love and where I place myloyalties are my business, and if you had not stuck your damn twisted morals upon my life I would be happy!" Kratos roared. "So if you value your pathetic excuse of a life you damned well best absent yourself from my home, from what remains of my business, now!"
Mithos froze, stared at the man who had taught him, had held him when the grief became too much, and was unwilling to let that go.
"Teacher I did this for you, for her, to save the world we can't be distracted!"
"To save it?" Kratos laughed, a horrid sound, his mind so lost in its pain the power flickered and went out. He was close to the edge, hovering over that dismal place he had sunk into after returning to Derris Kharlan. "Even though you plan to destroy it after you revive your sister?"
"I…" Mithos trembled under those empty eyes. It was not the same empty perfection of the soul less he made via cruxis crystal, it was the emptiness of madness, of a broken man who had nothing to lose. "No it's not like that! Listen to me, please!" Mithos cried out, Kratos said nothing firmly shoved his way past the boy and stormed down the hall. "Where are you going!"
"I have business to attend to, and I will attend to it alone."
"No!" Mithos grabbed the ends of his mentor's cloak in an effort to stop him. He didn't see the blow, it was so fast and he was on his rear in the middle of the hall, his face throbbing. And the eyes that looked down at him were not empty anymore. They were filled with a horrid light of sadism. Kratos had enjoyed hitting him, had liked it, and the clenched fist told Mithos that if he dared to touch Kratos again he'd get worse. "Let me go with you! You shouldn't be alone! I can help you Kratos, I really can, let me explain, I'll make it all make sense I promise!"
"You want to help me?" Kratos' voice was a harsh rasp, as if he had not taken liquid in for months. "Then go to Hell Yggdrasil, just go to Hell."
Mithos bowed his head, trembled under the fury. Forgetting that he was a self proclaimed Master of Heaven and God. He was reduced to nothing more then the little boy who had shouldered a burden too great, all by the rage of his oldest friend. He looked up at Kratos with eyes filed with tears, tears that could never, would never, fall from his eyes. Kratos looked down upon him, no sympathy. Faintly Mithos heard Kratos walk away, heard the steps fade away, a door slam, then nothing. Silence, the silence of Welgaia so pure and holy fell upon the house.
"Kratos… I didn't do anything wrong, I was trying to save you!" Mithos cried, his voice lost in the silence, the eternity so great and smooth no echoes could catch in the jags and come back to him. He closed his eyes, held himself and rocked back and forth. "Kratos… please don't leave me alone, you know I'm scared of the dark… It's so dark here… please come back… please…"
For a long moment Mithos lay on the cold stone, a cold that he could not feel any longer, and shivered. An hour, a day, an eternity, what was time to the timeless? When that span ended Yggdrasil picked himself from the floor, ran a hand through his hair and let the cold soothing nothingness locked away in his crystal. Take away the pain of betrayed love, of being abandoned, he ordered the stone. And as those utter mortal and blood trait things faded into nothingness with only a slight spasm of pain in the vicinity of his chest, he smiled. When the last of the pain faded Yggdrasil found his feet and looked around the house. He'd never been here without Kratos hovering over him, and people who did that had something to hide. Perhaps Yggdrasil could find something, something to make Kratos more, loyal, efficient.
Yes he would give Kratos his time to sulk in those pathetic human emotions and when he came back, as he must, Yggdrasil would re-educate his seraphim. After all this near catastrophe had some fault with his actions, he had let Kratos go too long without a proper talking to. He decided to go to the chapel first; such sacrilege in the very heart of Derris Kharlan should be tended to. After all what would Martel think of it? He must please Martel, must make this place pure for her, for his sister. Picking his way down the fall, going through the mess of halls he found a small closet like room, the same room he had discovered Kratos trying to throw aside Yggdrasil's gift to him because a set of animals had died. Rolling his eyes Yggdrasil found the small room utterly barbaric, two rows of small wooden benches, a raised slab of common granite its top sheathed in a dark red streaked wood. On the altar lay three candles –unlit- and something that glinted gold. Blinking the effects that the glare of light –from where he did not know since there was no light in the room- off of the item away he walked up to the talisman, wondered what pathetic purpose it served, and picked it up, intending to crush the stupid thing. His fingers closed over it, and with a soft whisper of sound and motion a thin line appeared and the locket split nearly in half and swung on small hinges. He stared at the picture inside, not quite believing his eyes. As belief and realization came he laughed, laughed with the shrill giggled of a child and the deep rumbled of his adult voice both laughter was simutanious. Picking up the item he pocketed it, after closing it so it wouldn't take up more space then necessary.
Oh yes Kratos would come to him now, Yggdrasil would not demean himself by coming to this savage's hovel again. Smirking he muttered the words of a spell, set a thin line of fire to drift about the room and catch bench and alter alike in red glowing hands. Satisfied that the blaze caught onto the appropriate targets he cast another spell over the fires, directed it to only destroy the room it was housed in. Smug in his victory Yggdrasil did not pause to watch it burn and therefore missed how light seemed to gather amongst the twelve carved runes along the walls, and how after a flash of light, the fires stilled and died, leaving behind not even a fine coat of ash or blackened wood. For all that had burned under Yggdrasil's command had been air, the air over the altar, the floors, and the benches was all that had burned.
Xxx xxx xxx xxx
Shaking off the effects of the teleportation Kratos stretched, his wings fanned out behind him to mime the human's motions. It was instinct, disoriented by the landing, he felt cramped, thinking it was only his wings pressing against him the seraphim had drawn them. Seeped in blood they had dripped flapped, and while the feeling lessened he realized it was not a physical phenomenon. Depressed, suicidal, no matter his mood part of him it seemed always registered the stifling silence, the torment that was the city of angels. Birds chirped at the base of the Tower, mountain's like misshapen giant's teeth loomed over him, and it was safe enough to have his wings out. There were no rhieards flying a slow patrol over this world, no crazy would be frontiers-men gliding to inaccessible places, camping for all of a week and then going back to be pampered in Meltokio. True explorers, wanderers, and adventurers lived several miles away, the occasional brave soul would make a pilgrimage here, but the last had been a half century ago and Yggdrasil had killed that poor priest before either of the seraphim could protest. He was safe from the prying eyes of the world to reveal the silver blue twisted excuse for a wing that sprouted from his back, and as much as he hated to look upon them they would serve him as a tool. He kicked off of the ground, mind empty of thought, of concern, as he glided in the air around the tower. There was no pattern to his motions; no purpose to his flight, save that he slowly went north, of the forests that choked the northern part of this world.