Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Author's Note: I watched the second half of the ToS anime—which I hadn't seen and let me tell you, they change a lot—and the United World opening just about broke my heart. I'm kind of loving the anime because they're putting more spotlight on the seraphim and the war, which eventually, I'm gonna have to write a few fics with that background for reference because it's totally different from my imagined one.

Okay, so about the Summon Spirits; to my information, only Gnome said anything about Mithos fighting him on his own. Whether it was just the one anecdote or whether it was something to blanket all of the Spirits, I don't know, but I'm taking it as the singular incident. If anyone can find different proof, please let me know.

I had surgery a few months back. I'm feeling fine—stuck at home for a bit and I've finished season one of Game of Thrones. The series is utterly gorgeous and I'm still in awe of how close they managed to get it to the books. I've also begun watching Supernatural. Pretty cool show—kind of gross at points—but overall, I like it. Also, I bought me LEGO DC Superheroes for the Xbox. It's a lot of fun actually, especially if you're playing with someone else. I make a horrible Robin, as I've found.

My brother and I's first book, an original alternate history/fantasy series titled The Sanctum Files can now be read on authonomy. I'd very much appreciate it if you guys would take a look and say what you think. The link is on my profile. I'm also putting it here, without spaces, naturally.

authonomy books / 47917 / sanctum-files-the-dragon-scroll / read-book / #chapter

Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other thing.
-Abraham Lincoln

"And why does he want to see me?" Kratos asked Viren, keeping easy stride with him.

"Martel opposed him. He's not used to that and he doesn't like it. He thinks that the Yggdrasills are dangerous to our cause and he knows you're close with them. At best, he just wants to talk and get a measure of you."

"And at worst?"

Viren didn't answer. Worst case scenario—he was there to arrest Kratos on grounds that Lyrion believed were true. But Viren wouldn't let that happen. Kratos was good for this army, for this country. For the world, even. He'd seen that. He'd seen Kratos set aside all those differences to help people. And even more impressively, he'd seen others in his army set aside all prejudices and mistrust and welcome Kratos into their lives, trusting him to protect their families.

"Viren?"

"At worst, they'll try to arrest you." Kratos was a person that appreciated honesty and didn't flinch from the truth, however terrible it might be. Viren could only give him the same courtesy.

Kratos caught the operative word. "Try?"

Viren glanced over at him, a hard edge in his eyes. "I won't let them. You've done nothing to deserve it."

Kratos smiled. "Glad to know I have your support."

"You have a lot more than just me. You've had an impact here, Kratos, even if you might not be able to tell. But I saw this city and these soldiers before you and Yuan, Mithos and Martel got here and—those weren't people I would have been proud to be fighting for. I did, but I wasn't…I wasn't happy doing it. But the people now, they're…they have kindness again, have empathy." Viren hesitated before continuing. "…I want this city to become the kind of place where anyone can come for refuge, where people don't need to be afraid all the time because of their birth. And I think it can really become that."

Ridicule had fallen on Viren for his dreams before. He'd been told it was impossible and he expected to be told that again because Kratos was a strange kind of practical.

But Kratos surprised him—he was good at that—and said, "That sounds…pretty wonderful, actually. I like that."

"You do?"

All Viren got was a confused look. "Of course. People shouldn't be living in fear."

(Viren thinks for the first time in years that this can work, that with people who believe like this, that everything can work out)

"So you're the human."

Kratos stiffened at the tone more than the words. He'd gotten used to people calling him by his race out in the field and the city (But things have been slowly changing. People use his name, call him over to share news and gossip, their daughters giggle and he is reminded of a desert with a girl who tasted of stale rainwater and spices) but even they didn't use the term the way Lyrion did.

"Yessir."

Lyrion's eyes narrowed at him, took in the posture, the words, the stance. "…You're born-and-bred military, ain't you?"

Kratos had to bite his tongue a little to stop himself from correcting the grammar. "Yessir."

"So why are you here?" Lyrion leaned back in his chair, fingers folded, eyes glittering. "Why ain't you with your people?"

"I am with my people," Kratos said bluntly. "I was born human and raised as one, but my brother is a half-elf and so is all my family."

"Is that so? Because there's a warrant out in the human lands." Lyrion held up a wanted poster. Kratos' face was roughly sketched there, hair and beard wild as they had been at the ranch. "Says you're General Aurion's boy."

"He is my father."

"How do I know you're not a spy?"

Temper flashed across Kratos' face before he turned and shrugged his shirt over his shoulders. Scars—marks that had been fresh wounds not a few months ago if not for Martel's skill—spanned across. Some were little more than white chalk lines and would fade with time. Others were more raw, raised and still red or dark. There were lashes from a whip and other, rougher areas where something else had torn up the skin.

Kratos tugged his shirt back down and looked back to Lyrion. "Because a father doesn't do that to a son. I'm disowned and a blemish on the family name, or so I imagine the word is. I don't care."

"And why is that?"

"Because my father has done…terrible things. Things that no one should ever do to another person. He's enslaved, tortured and killed so many people. It needs to stop and I'm going to make that happen any way I can."

Lyrion was quiet as he thought it over. "…You are friends with the woman named Martel? And her brother, Mithos?"

"Yes."

"Are you aware that Mithos is a deserter?"

"He didn't desert anything. He went looking for something to help us and he found it. He's helping us get this war under control. It needs to stop. People are losing everything because they hope that there will be peace, but it won't happen if we keep fighting like this."

"Your idealism has no place in this army, boy. And Mithos is dangerous. Summoners are cursed."

"Mithos is the only reason you have any chance of succeeding. Or do you want more people to die for your war? A war I don't even think you remember why you're fighting."

Lyrion stared at him, tight-lipped. When he'd asked Viren what Kratos was like, he'd been told that the man was quiet, but honest and stubborn. Viren had said nothing about passionate or protective.

"Why do you fight?"

"Because until there's a way for people to see this war is ripping the world apart, there are innocent people out there who need someone to fight for them. And you, sir? Why are you fighting?"

"Because it's my duty."

Kratos' eyes narrowed at him. (They are unsettling eyes, Lyrion thinks. Eyes that a human shouldn't have, eyes too old for the face) "You're military too, aren't you? You were raised with it."

The man was observant too, and intelligent. "Yes, I was. My father was a lieutenant."

"You were raised to obey orders and never question them."

"You seem not to have taken those lessons to heart."

"Some orders need to be questioned."

Lyrion stood and he and Kratos were of a height. "I will not have you questioning this army. It leads to dissension and everything will fall apart. We need to show the humans a united front."

Kratos' eyes hardened. "With all due respect, sir, I don't agree. By your leave."

He didn't salute, but something about the snap to his footsteps felt like a mocking version of one.

Yuan listened while Kratos told him all that had happened. After he was finished, Yuan was quiet for another moment before he gave his best friend a sidelong look and grinned real slow. "I've raised such a rebel."

That made Kratos laugh, a sound that, since they came back from the ranch, had been scarcer and Yuan had missed it.

The laughter was gone too soon though.

"…I don't understand it, Yuan."

"What?"

"Lyrion said his father was lieutenant." Yuan caught the parallel without Kratos having to elaborate. "I don't understand how we could turn out so different. He must've seen what his father did in the war, how the war affects people."

"Well…if you want my, ah, professional opinion and speaking as a third party observer with no interest in the matter," Kratos gave him a look and it nearly made Yuan forget the rest of his sentence. "I think it's because of me. No, seriously."

Kratos smiled at him. "Well, I'm lucky then."

"To have me? Of course you are," Yuan said, cocky and Kratos shoved him playfully, making Yuan catch himself on the end of the bench, his laughter echoing off the streets.

"He's going to be keeping a close eye on the lot of you," Viren said. "The only ones that might be able to get away with doing anything without his knowledge is you." He looked at Yuan meaningfully.

"Not even," Zaren pointed out. "Myra agrees with Lyrion, up to a point. If he asks who's associated with you lot, she'll tell him."

"So, if none of us can move freely," Mithos said, having been only listening until now. His ribs were still feeling rather bruised, but Martel had healed him up rather nicely. "What's gonna happen with the Summon Spirits? There's still a lot more that could help us."

"I don't know," Viren answered honestly. "Lyrion's got seniority over me and none of the other generals like me enough to vouch for me if I try to circumvent his orders."

"And what are his orders, exactly?" Kratos asked.

"Currently? They're to not let the four of you outside of the city. Well, unless there's a massive need for you on the battlefield. Which is basically just Martel." Because there was a shortage of Healers.

"There's more," Zaren told them. "I've heard rumors amongst his people. He doesn't trust Mithos; wants him out of the army." Cries of shock echoed across the room. "He'll say he has grounds too. Mithos was too young to enter the military when he got here."

Yuan stood up, mana sparking up and down his arms instinctively. "Bullshit! If that's the case, then you shouldn't have been able to enlist either! You were too young too!"

Zaren snorted. "Go ahead and tell him that. He'll probably kick me out too just to prove his point."

"Then what the hell can we do?"

"Legally? Noth—"

"I don't know about the half-elven army, but in the human military, the only way to do it would be to court-martial him," Kratos suggested quietly. All eyes turned to him and everyone was acutely aware of his military background in that instance.

Viren nodded slowly. "Yes, we do that in this military too."

"It shouldn't cause any problems for us—it's legal. Even better," His mouth quirked into a smile touched with mischief. "It follows all the rules."

Yuan stared at him for a moment before laughing. "Kratos, you're a genius!"

"And how exactly do you plan to get that to happen?" Viren asked, folding his fingers into a steeple. "And what would you charge him with? Doing his job?"

"Well the man must've done something wrong at one point. All we've got to do is dig it up."

Viren sighed. "You guys can try, but I don't think you'll be finding anythin' on him. And until you actually find any evidence on 'im, keep your heads down. Don't give him an excuse to come after you." He gave Kratos and Yuan a pointed look. They'd already managed to get under and around one military institution and they'd been little more than kids at the time. No need to let them do it again.

Yuan smiled angelically. "Would we ever do such a thing?"

"In a heartbeat."

Kratos shrugged, not denying it. "We'll do our best."

"Right. I'll bet you will." Viren stood, bracing his hands on the table. "Oh, that goes for you too, Martel. Kratos. And much as I enjoyed seeing you give him a piece of your mind," His lips twisted into a smile at Martel. She and Kratos were of a kind. "Try not to do it again before he discharges all of us."

"No promises," Martel told him.

"Of course not. I'll see if I can't convince him to let you guys go make pacts with the Summon Spirits, but it's gonna be a hard sell. I don't think Lyrion believes they actually exist."

"I can make him believe it," Mithos said. He kept the precious gems that the Spirits had dropped on his person at all times, in a pouch he kept knotted tightly round his waist. "Seeing is believing, right?"

"Somehow, I don't think frying him alive is going to make him like us any more."

"The offer still stands. Just sayin'."

"Let's call that a last resort."

Confined to the city, Mithos sparred with Yuan more often and occasionally Kratos, if he felt up to it. Kratos would stop him mid-movement and correct a stance or adjust his hold on the sword.

"You have to stay grounded," Kratos told him. "Gnome's power flows from the earth into you that way."

Teaching him how to parry was difficult without his full strength and speed. But Kratos showed him the movement slowly and would gently shift his arm into better positions. Mithos' quick mind and talent for learning proved itself true; he only had to show him once or twice before Mithos was doing it easily. But his body wasn't quite strong enough to endure holding a heavy sword for very long, so that was the part that needed the most work.

The way Yuan fought with his spear made Mithos think differently on methods of attack and how to block. To Kratos, these things were second nature—after all, he had learned to fight against a spear just as well as a sword—and so he found it strange that Mithos found it a bit difficult. And Yuan was faster than Kratos and while Mithos was fast enough to avoid the hits, he wasn't quite fast enough to strike back.

After another two weeks, Martel was carefully and gently prodding and testing the muscles of Kratos' back. They jumped occasionally under her fingers, but Kratos didn't show any signs of pain. The scars were fainter now, most little more than chalk lines that wouldn't open up again.

"You're healed," she told him. "There's a little more to be done, but your body can do that on its own."

"That's good to hear," he said. "I've been feeling kind of useless."

Martel laughed a little. "I think it's a guy thing. You don't feel useful unless you're doing something physical."

"Well, when things need to get done…"

"You mean things like the war?"

He flashed a look at her. "I don't want to fight any more than you do. But until we can come up with another solution, we need to be able to fight back."

As she got to her feet to wash out the bowl of poultices, Martel said, "That meeting with Lyrion…something about it bothered you."

"I—I don't want to abandon the humans. Because they can't be all bad just like not all half-elves are good. It's not that cut and dry. And…I don't know. I feel like I shouldn't give up on them."

There was a fond tilt of a smile on Martel's lips. "You're not good at that. Giving up on people, I mean."

"Do you think I'm crazy? For thinking that things can change? War can' t be all there is." (He remembers things. Things in his books about the way the world is when there is no war. He remembers thinking how very alien it all seemed)

"No, I don't think you're crazy. Well," she tilted a crooked smile at him. "Not for that reason. But…we don't have any way to connect with the humans. The half-elves might be changing their mind on them—thanks to you—"She saw him about to open his mouth and kept talking, not giving him a chance to object. "But the humans still think of us as monsters, as less than the scum beneath their boots. And it's going to be hard to convince them otherwise."

"Hm." Kratos stood up suddenly. "I need a map."

Martel blinked at him. "Okay…I have one, but somehow I think it's not the kind you're looking for."

"I need a map of the temple locations."

"Have fun in the library. Just share whatever…epiphany…you're getting tonight over dinner."

But Kratos didn't show up for dinner. Or breakfast.

Yuan wasn't surprised about dinner. Martel had mentioned Kratos doing research and, in his experience, Kratos could get very easily sucked into his books. But breakfast was another matter. Maybe he'd fallen asleep on his books.

Yuan climbed the stairs to the mages' library and listened for any sign of Kratos. The library wasn't a large room, but the maze of double-stacked bookshelves and tables and the scroll-lined cubbies in the walls made for it to be bigger than it looked. But however big the room, it was usually a very silent one and in that silence, Yuan's Exsphere-enchanced hearing could pick up the sound of Kratos' breathing.

He followed the sound, weaving his way through until he found Kratos in a corner that must have been sunlit yesterday afternoon. Books were strewn on the table, open on specific pages and Kratos had indeed fallen asleep, head pillowed on his arm and pen still in hand.

Yuan sat beside Kratos and flicked his ear.

Kratos jolted awake, the cheek he'd been laying on red and ink stains on his fingers and around his eyes, likely from when he rubbed them as he tired. He blinked at Yuan. "Is it dinnertime already?"

Yuan just smirked and leaned his cheek into his palm. "Forget dinner; you missed breakfast. But have no fear. I come bearing gifts." He held up his other hand—a few pieces of toast wrapped in a napkin.

"You're a lifesaver." Kratos took the toast, munching on it hungrily.

Yuan tilted his head curiously, though at this angle, it was difficult to read what was going on. "So. What's all this about?" he asked, gesturing at the table in general.

"I was talking with Martel when she made a point. The humans don't have any insight into half-elves' lives, their culture. All they're taught is that you guys are half-bloods, that they're supposed to be better than you because of that, that you're put on this earth to be slaves for them."

"Uh-huh…"

"What if we showed them different? Made them see that things aren't the way they think they are? Humans don't want to war any more than half-elves do. Most of them are tired of it. Their taxes are higher, their families are out there dying…there's no upside."

"How do you expect to show them, Kratos? Most of them don't even see us."

"Exactly. But what if they had to see us? Had to speak with us?"

"And how do you expect to make that happen?"

"What if we became ambassadors of peace?"

Yuan stared at him. "Kratos, you're insane. I'm serious. Ambassadors? We'd be killed in the streets. There's already a bounty on your head."

"It's why we don't announce ourselves. If we can get to the king, we can take care of ourselves from there."

"Yes, and if the king decides we're not worth listening to and he sends his guards or whoever to kill us? We could fight them off, but even if we come out alive, all the humans are going to hear is that a group of half-elves snuck into the palace and slaughtered a bunch of men."

Kratos hesitated. "I don't know how we're going to do it, but I think we should at least try. And if somehow we can convince the higher-ups to let us become the peace ambassadors, we could also go to the temples. The pacts with the Summon Spirits could still be made. Look," he tugged a map closer and Yuan leaned in to see better. "Sylph's temple is well within half-elven territory, but the humans have taken over the temple that houses Luna and Aska. And Undine's island is on technically neutral territory. Celsius is definitely within human lands now, out in their north. Volt…I hear very few things about Volt, but his temple is supposedly here," Kratos pointed to a strait of land on the border. "He'll be easy to get to, I imagine, if we can avoid the storms. Shadow…"

"Shadow's easy. He's here," Yuan brushed Kratos' hand aside and tapped a location. "In the mountain fortress of the monks. And Ratatosk is with the Great Tree, of course and Origin…Origin is in the elven lands. There's no way we can go in there."

"And where's the Great Tree?"

Now, Yuan was the one to hesitate. "I'm not sure. I've heard about it, but there's no specific location ever given for it. I know it's in the lands of Kharlan, but those lands span a large amount of area. The Tree could be anywhere in it."

"That's neutral territory too, isn't it?"

"Well yeah. I mean, only because no one's been able to conquer it. Not even the elves. There's a lot of monsters in those parts, I hear. Ratatosk's fault, mostly."

Kratos frowned at that. He'd never heard very much about the Spirit of the Tree—even the half-elves didn't know much. "How so?"

Yuan shrugged. "He's supposed to be Lord of Monsters too. He's Origin's right hand. That's more or less all I know about him."

"There aren't any legends about him?"

"Not in my village. You could ask around though. He's mostly an elven Spirit, since the Tree came with them from Derris-Kharlan."

"Aren't the Spirits supposed to be universal?"

Yuan snorted. "Try telling the elves that."

"And what, pray tell, is so bad about elves?"

Both Yuan and Kratos whipped their heads around to see Alstan bracing a hand on the backs of each of their chairs, eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer.

"Old man!"

"You boys are planning something." He knew them too well to think otherwise. They'd changed since the human military academy, but not that much. "And, unless I miss my guess, it's something to get around General Lyrion."

"No, it—that's ridiculous," Yuan said, leaning back and trying for a convincing smile. Kratos just finished off his last piece of toast. "Why would we ever do something so disobedient?"

"Because it's in your blood. Now, what's the plan?"
Kratos and Yuan thought about it for a half a second before beginning to tell him.