Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Notes: This a prologue, just sort of setting up the action here, so be patient. I think this story will probably take on a more humorous tone in the future, and it probably won't be all that slashy. But still…Kratos/Zelos needs more of a fanbase, so I'm trying to contribute as best I can.

Also, I got this idea from the fact that they both have the same techs and such. So I started to think about it and was like…dude! It just might work! Now, let's just see if I can pull it off…heh.

XxX

One would think that with unlimited resources and even better connections that life in Meltokio would be a never ending world of fun. It would be true really, if that kind of power didn't come with a price and a heavy burden. Zelos learned this quickly in his young life, and while the rewards were sometimes sweet, they often left a bitter taste in his mouth that never quite settled right.

Meltokio was a fabulous city with a towering castle and plenty of young girls willing to give it up to a person of a high enough status, one would think that would make it any playboy's wet dream. Still there were only so many groupies one could go through before it got old, and there were times when Zelos would look up at the gleaming castle walls and wonder how satisfying it would be to splatter it with a bucket of paint, ruining at least some of the pristine appearence. Zelos usually just chalked up that last one to boredom and a wandering imagination, even though it did sound a bit morbid, even to him.

So more often then not, Zelos would find himself in a run down bar in the slums, affectionately named The Pit. He liked it better than the places in the Upper Quarter area , even though it did tend to reek of smoke and piss. He did usually get some strange looks from the locals of course, but it didn't really bother him too much, especially when they mixed the best Tequila Sunrise this side of the Grand Bridge.

"Don't you think you've had enough, kid?" the man standing behind the bar questioned, eyeing the form that was slouched over on the counter carefully. He was older and had a harsh raspy voice, perpetually wiping down a beer mug with a rag in a hypnotic fashion that Zelos always found fascinating to stare at.

"Nah, but why are you complaining anyway?" Zelos peeked up at the man through long red strands that that had fallen over his face and partially onto the dirty countertop, grimacing at the mystery stickiness coating the surface. Zelos groaned as he lifted his body just enough to pull his hair up in a ponytail before letting his woozy head rest on the table once more.

"I'm not complaining; just don't want you to get sick. Wouldn't do much for business if the Chosen One dropped dead in my bar."

"You know I hate it when you call me that…" Zelos groaned and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, as they were refusing to focus on any one thing at the moment. It was getting a bit annoying.

"Well, it's the truth, andone day you'll learn to accept that. Of course…it'll suck for me because I'll be missing out on your generous tips when you won't be sitting around here drowning down your sorrows anymore." The barkeep laughed to himself. Zelos noticed he did that a lot, laughed at his own jokes. Normally he would find that an annoying quality, but he was hard pressed to find any flaws in this rough old man, who allowed him to drink even though he was far too young and let him pour his soul out whenever he felt the need without even blinking an eye.

"You can't help being born…"

"Yeah, I know that. You just happen to be the lucky winner of god's fucked up little lottery, right?" The older man chuckled to himself again, a low rumbling noise that Zelos would have found disturbing had he heard it in any other context.

"Yeah…yeah, you're right." Zelos grinned as he imagined Martel, or whoever the hell was supposed to be up there, churning one of those old fashioned lottery machines, waiting for the ball with the lucky number to pop out. It was in his opinion, that it must be some rule that every bartender also happened to be a part-time psychiatrist as it was the only explanation for those random bouts of insight the man always seemed to offer. He actually really liked the guy, and was sad to say that he had never learned his name. He was about to ask when he was rather rudely interrupted by a heavy hand landing on his shoulder. "Can I…help you with something?"

"Yeah, you can shut the hell up and stop being a whiny spoiled brat so the rest of us can enjoy our drinks in peace." The man behind him snorted before lifting his hand, turning back to his companions, who were amused by his comment. Zelos glared at the men who were sitting at the table behind him, normally being able to ignore such feeble minded commoners, but not feeling as submissive tonight. Maybe it had something to do with the alcoholflowing through his system, but he got up from his seat at the bar and took a few less than elegant steps towards the table, where the men were currently engaged in a game of poker.

"Hey, asshole, mind your own business and let me angst in peace, got it?" Zelos sighed and rested a hand on his hip, probably not looking as threatening as he would have hoped, but he was the Chosen after all, so maybe they would listen.

"Oh please, what do you have to be sorry about? You've never had to work a day in your life, while the rest of has to rot away in this dump." Or maybe the whole Chosen thing was what was really causing the problem.

"Shit, that ain't my fault! If you want to have a better life, then do something about it! Stop sitting around and waiting for other people to give it to you." Zelos shirked back slightly when he noticed the angered looks coming across the group, suddenly doubting that this was the right time to be giving any inspirational speeches. "Hey! Hey…I mean…what I meant to say was…that tunic is absolutely fabulous on you." He laughed nervously as the instigator of the group started advancing on him, taking a few steps back until his back was against the bar.

Zelos looked over his shoulder to see if the barkeep who kept him company most nights would offer him any help, but he seemed to have no such intentions. He found himself slightly hurt by that but then again, he was just another customer here, and he wasn't going to get any special treatment for being who he was. It was what he really liked about the situation, even if he was in danger of being beaten within an inch of his life in the near future. "Just uh…watch the face…okay, boys?" Zelos laughed nervously and tried to dodge the first hit. He smirked as the man stumbled past him awkwardly. One of the man's friends rushed at him and he grabbed the first thing he could find, an empty glass bottle, ready to attack before his head reeled with dizziness a second later, his stomach rising with nausea, and everything went black.

XxX

"Will you be needing anything else, sir?" a monotone voice spoke, one that could either be male or female, it was really too hard to tell. The being handed the man in front of it a stack of neatly filed books, ones that were completely identical in size and color, save for only the title printed on the cover. It was much like the rest of the city; uniform.

"No, that will be all. Thank you." Kratos accepted the books and watched as the being flew back into the archives to finish their work without another word. He tucked the books under his arm and made his way over to the teleport device that would take him to his private quarters. He had been making a lot of progress within the past few months, gathering information about how to forge the Eternal Ring, and didn't want to quit when he was ahead, hoping that Yggdrasill hadn't noticed his recent disappearances. Of course, he still had to worry about who would wield the Eternal Sword, but he supposed he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

"Kratos? Can I have a word with you?" Kratos jumped when he heard the voice, so wrapped up in his work that he hadn't noticed anyone entering. It also didn't help that he was extremely paranoid as of late, or maybe that was just the guilt kicking in, but either way it was an unsettling feeling that he still wasn't accustomed to.

"…Yuan. What is it?"

"I've gotten word from Tethe'alla that the Chosen has been attacked."

"How unfortunate. Is he still alive?" Kratos asked, hoping that the answer was yes. If not, it only meant undertaking the long process of finding a successor Plus with the absence of a Chosen, it gave the Church more control then normal and contributed to the kingdom's already chaotic battle for power. It was enough to make his head hurt just thinking about it.

"Yes, but I'm afraid his massive ego has suffered substantial injuries." Yuan chuckled to himself and crossed his arms, still staring at the back of the other man's head.

"Good, maybe he'll start taking his duties seriously for a change," Kratos spoke but knew that it really didn't matter anyway, since Tethe'alla was flourishing. It was unlikely that the Chosen would ever need to take any action at all. It was quite different from how it worked in Sylvarant, where the Chosen was viewed as a beacon of hope, instead of a political figure that held a title but virtually no meaning.

"Well actually…," Kratos didn't like the sound of that, "you're going to have to help with that."

"Meaning?"

"Yggdrasil is worried that his recklessness might get him killed, and we never know if we might need him as a back up vessel for Martel. So he's ordered that you go down there and teach him self defense."

"I don't have time for this," Kratos sighed and ran a hand through his hair, glaring down at the various open books littering the surface of his desktop, as if that would somehow make them spell out the answers to all his questions.

"Sorry, but you know you're a lot more patient with kids then I am," Yuan offered and took a few steps so that he was standing behind his friend, resting a hand on his shoulder."Damn, you're really tense, what have you been working on?" Kratos shrugged off Yuan's hand when he began to knead the tense muscles, wondering if the question was because he actually cared or because he was suspicious of his actions. He already had a sneaking suspicion that Yuan might have some idea what he was doing, but it was so hard to tell what that man was thinking, even after he had known him for so long.

"Fine, I'll leave tomorrow morning," Kratos relented, even though he had to admit he was slightly grateful. At least it was a break from being up here as it had been so long since he got to look up at the stars.

tbc