Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Symphonia. Shocking, I know
Warnings: This will be violent, random, and probably boring with moments of mild humor. I don't like Collette and expect sporadic updates. I have a case of chronic laziness I it might seem that I dropped of the face of the Earth at some points. And if you have a flame, please send it. I've been dying to get one of those. Just make use of shift keys; I want to be able to read it.
Boredom
Four-hundred and ninety-seven. Kratos Aurion lay in his feather bed wearing a purple outfit with numerous and unnecessary belts and counted the number of platinum tiles covering the roof of his prison. Four-hundred and ninety-seven had always been the exact number of tiles the roof and he had no idea why he felt the need to count them again. It had been the same since he had been, for all intends and purposes been imprisoned there almost eighteen years ago.
After a miniscule sigh, he got up and began to take of some of the annoying belts covering his arms and chest. Yggdrassil needs to torment me in any way he sees possible, he thought tiredly. After removing most of the dammed belts he fell back in his bed and began to count the tiles once again. Before he got to number two-hundred and forty eight (at this point he usually stopped and counted the other half of the tiles starting at the other end of the roof) Promyna walked into his room.
"You know," said Kratos in a monotone. "I could have been naked in here. But considering how liberal you are when it comes to clothing, you probably wouldn't have cared."
Promyna was Yggdrassil's personal assistant and favorite black mage. Kratos referred to her as Yggdrassil's bitch privately. She was a woman who was getting on years, an elf had to be old if wrinkles were becoming an issue, but she insisted on dressing like some sort of mythological whore. Probably for Yggdrassil's benefit, thought Kratos with some dry humor, I wonder if she knows how Yggie really looks.
As usual, Promyna ignored his comment and simply walked next to the bed so Kratos could look her in the face. "Lord Yggdrassil wishes to see you immediately," she smirked down at him. "I suggest you fix your clothing, he is expecting you in fifteen minutes in the conference room." Without giving Kratos a chance to reply, she walked out of the room, getting having some difficulty getting out with that thing she wore on her back.
Kratos sighed again, reluctant to go out without finishing his recount of the tiles in the roof. It probably was not a good sign that he cared so much about something so redundant, but he had decided that his sanity was fragile a while ago. Almost eighteen years ago, to be exact. He shook off his unease (it was probably due to having another get together with his captor and former friend) and simply gathered the belts and walked out the room.
In any other place, people might have looked at him questioningly if he got out of his room putting on some fruity, lavender, and unnecessary belts in his chest, but this was Derris-Kharlan. When he was about two corridors away from the door to the Yggie's (Yggdrassil was too long a name, even thinking it was a hassle), Kratos laid back against the wall and began counting the platinum tiles that were covering the door.
One.
"I don't think it is a good idea to send a traitor to protect the Chosen, my lord." Yuan, you also think that the bastard has gone totally mental; you're just too prudent to do anything.
Four.
"I think it's time we test just how much control I have over our rebel seraph, don't you think?" Yggie, you know perfectly well that I'll never really be one of your puppets again.
Seven.
"Yes, but is it prudent to send someone as unstable as him in such an important task." Yuan, you want this scheme to bring back Martel to fail; regardless of what she was to you don't think I don't see that. And what do you mean by unstable?
Ten.
"Relax, Yuan, if this chosen fail there will always be another one soon enough. We'll just send Kratos to guard this one as a little test." Wait, he's sending me to guard someone. Not just to murder some Desian, or some human in Tethe'alla. This is not good.
When the full it finally hit Kratos that he was going to be sent to be the babysitter of some religious, blond, probably insultingly optimistic girl in a misguided journey to become Martel's vessel, he nearly had a epileptic fit. Since he had been captured, Yggie had mostly turned him into his pet hit man. Kratos really didn't mind, most of the people Yggie wanted dead were either as insane as he was, or just plain evil. He really didn't mind, what he really resented was having to act like he gave a shit about what was going on anymore.
Kratos would have calmly accepted a fate in which he would have to off the occasional madman making a bid for Yggie's power but no; Yggie had to realize that having one of his strongest subordinates did not make him look good, so he had forced Kratos to act like he was still loyal. Again, he really didn't mind the killing, but flanking Yggie dressed like a fucking fairy during those times he called his group of cardinals and scientists and the like was getting tiresome.
And now he's sending me to baby-sit another religious, idealistic retard while he plotted to destroy said religious, idealistic retard's soul. This means war. He considered doing something stupid, like openly defy Yggie and babble some of his more intimate secrets among the members of Cruxis. That would probably result in pointless fights and he'd probably end up artificially frozen in a cube in some remote lab belonging to Rodyle. Naked. He looked down at his lavender, bondage angel clothes. Or worse, dresses like this. Maybe I'll rebel some other time.
In the middle of this pointless mental discussion, Yuan walked out and glanced absent-mindedly at Kratos. It was a shame that someone who had been so brave, and resourceful had turned into someone so passive and clearly deranged.
"How long have you been there?" asked Yuan when he noticed the almost uncertain frown in Kratos's surprisingly young looking face. He would always look that, young with sad, old eyes. How old had he been when Martel gave him the Cruxis Crystal? Twenty? Twenty-one?
Kratos looked up, momentarily startled out of his musings, and saw Yuan looking at him with an exasperated look on his face.
"I just got here," murmured Kratos, determined to sound even more bored and unenthusiastic than he actually was. His tone had the desired effect; Yuan looked like he wanted to jump of a building for a moment.
"I have an appointment with Lord Yggie now," Yuan looked pained when he heard the nickname and he just sighed and turned around, leaving Kratos standing in the door way by himself.
Kratos sighed himself (there seemed to be a lot of sighing going around lately) and walked into the conference room then gaped. Yggie was wearing the gayest thing that Kratos had ever since. For the first time in his life, Kratos's was mentally speechless. Yggie had put on a white jumpsuit that clung to every inch of his illusionary muscles. And it sparkles. Oh Lord, this proves it. Yggie is gay. Oh no, is that why he has been making me dress like a fairy?
It was a good thing that Yggie was praying, so he could not see the comical look on Kratos's face. The praying gave Kratos time to assimilate the fact that Yggie was gay, so Kratos manage to put on his bored mask before he turned around.
"Kratos, I need you to go Iselia and watch over the new Chosen as she goes on the Journey of Regeneration," said Yggie in a clear tone.
There is a golden, circular thing on his chest. It was good thing that Yggie took the look of mild disgust and confusion in Kratos's face as a result of the mission.
"Why?" asked Kratos, nut he was really talking about Yggie's choice of attire.
"Because I'm telling you to," iced Yggie. "And I have a feeling the renegades will try to get in the way of this one."
"You know perfectly well that if I had a choice, I'd be helping these renegades," Kratos made some air quotes when he said renegades, but that was just to be annoying. He had acquired quite a taste for being annoying over the years. "So why, Lord Yggdrassil, are you sending me to do this? Trying to sabotage your own deluded plan, are we?"
"You are a human," apparently Yggie was not interested in having a bitch fest with Kratos at the moment. "You will be able to infiltrate the Chosen's group easily. Make sure to be discreet with your powers. Go play guardian angel Kratos."
Insolence is not going to get me out of this, is it? Kratos was beginning to feel claustrophobic about this whole thing. He didn't want any contact with humans, or normal elves for that matter. He just wanted to be left alone with his drab misery. Unfortunately, when Kratos was felling anxious, he tended to forget the basic rules of survival in Derris-Kharlan.
"Mithos, why don't you just let Martel rest?" he mouthed in a desperate attempt to make Yggie see reason.
Rule of survival in Derris-Kharlan number one: Do not say Martel in front of Lord Yggdrassil.
"HOW DARE YOU?" screamed Yggie spreading out his golden wings, looking like he was about to blast Kratos into oblivion. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Yggie calmed down before the actual blasting took place.
"Forgot how vital you are for a second there," Yggie chuckled a little when he said that. His shoulders dropped and he grabbed on to a chair for support as if for support.
You are as tired as I am, aren't you Mithos? Why can't you let us all rest?
Kratos anted nothing more than to go back to his cell –no, room--, and finish counting his tiles. But that was really too much to ask; he'd learned long ago that just because what you wanted was simple didn't mean that you were going to get it.
"Tomorrow, I will send Remiel to the temple of Iselia," Yggie shook himself a little and offered Kratos a bland smile. "I have reasons to believe that the Renegades will attack. Save the day and use your witty charm to sneak your way into the Chosen's caravan." He extended his arm and motioned for the door. "Promyna has the funds you'll need. Go"
In an inn in the outskirts of Iselia
Well, things could be worse. Kratos laid on a lumpy bead in a cheap inn in the outskirts of Iselia. He was in the happiest mood he'd been in eighteen years. Being outside of derris-Kharlan had a positive effect in a person's spirits. Maybe that's way Yuan is not completely insane yet.
When he had gotten his funds from Promyna, he had flown to the forests of Palmacosta and waited for some thugs to try to rob him. He had quickly found one close to his size and jumped him. Quickly, he had taken the fellow's clothing and switched it with his lavender attire. There is probably a joke about role-reversal there somewhere, but he was too lazy to think it up.
After he had acquired less conspicuous clothing, he had walked to Palmacosta to find a store. He had forgotten how entertaining just walking could be. He had enjoyed the plains leafing to Palmacosta despite the mana shortage; he'd even used his angelic aura to keep enemies away. When he got to Palmacosta, Kratos went to a clothing store and bought clothes suitable for a mercenary. It was probably ironic that the only outfit that fitted him had been purple, but again, he was too lazy to give that the attention it deserved.
When the quest for suitable clothing was done, he armed himself in the most ordinary way he could find. The metal sword was sturdy but weak; it wouldn't take much effort to hide his strength with that sword. He didn't really need the shield, but he figured he needed to seem like a real mercenary. And he wanted to seem competent; he doubted the chosen's guardians would hire him if he didn't take his role as a mercenary seriously.
With new clothes, new inadequate weaponry, and a somewhat refreshed spirit, Kratos made his way to Iselia via embarrassingly sparkly wings. He was happy to see that Yggie had the decency to send him to Iselia with plenty of time to be lazy and idle before he had to socialize.
Trying to immerse himself into the role of a human, Kratos had paid for the room that he was currently laying in. so far, the only thing that bothered him was that his room was devoid of tiles. What was he supposed to do in the hours he had to wait for the renegades to attack he had nothing to count?
I know, he quickly teleported to the roof of the small inn and looked up at the sky. I'll count the stars.
A/N: I know, I know, the nickname is annoying but I'm not typing "Yggdrassil over and over again. Read, review, blah.