Shadow
Chapter 2: Drastic Changes
Mr.Who2123: Sup to all dudes who reviewed and/or reading this. I told some of you that I wouldn't be updating, but that crappy writer's block for True Pain led me to writing Chapter 2! For some, that is great, to True Pain fans, not so great. Well, whatever. Also, the first couple of chapters might be kind of slow with little or no action in them, because I need the plot to develop, but by chapter 4, there should be killing and suspense in every chapter. Sorry again. Disclaimer time! I will be using my OCs for Disclaimers (even though none will be introduced for awhile) come, Leon!
Leon: I'm not a Summon Spirit…
Mr.Who2123: Who cares? (Hugs Leon o.O) Disclaimer time!
Leon: Mr.Who2123 does not own Tales of Symphonia or their characters, but she does own druids, shadows, her Ocs, and this plot. So don't steal, or face the wrath of my Phoenix Blade!
Mr.Who2123: Calm down, or no dinner!
(Leon whimpers and puts on sad face)
Mr.Who2123: eh, never mind. Let the show go on!
Kratos stared at his hand in shock. There was no way it could have disappeared, but it did, and Kratos was sure of it. The thoughts kept lingering through his mind for the rest of the day, preoccupying him from focusing on anything else.
The next day, the village chief called Kratos to his house concerning him and the attack. Slowly, Kratos approached the large house, and walked through the main hall. He remembered it from last time he came; two days after Kratos was blast by the druid. That was exactly a month ago, but Kratos could still feel the pain from the druid whenever he thought about it.
Kratos found the chief sitting stiffly in his chair at the end of the hall. Kratos nodded timidly in respect, and the chief nodded back.
"I have called you to ask if there were any changes since you were hurt by the druid," he said. Kratos thought for a moment. Should he tell the chief of his hand? Kratos was unsure if it was his imagination now, for nothing happened out of the ordinary since then.
"Well, I thought…" he began, looking into the chief's eyes. "Um, I am unsure if this happened, though, because it happened yesterday." The chief raised an eyebrow, and waited with slight impatience. "I think my hand disappeared, but when I looked at it again, it was there," he said.
The chief thought for a moment. It was probably just a hallucination, but he shouldn't take this lightly. He was the only one who ever survived from a druid.
"You may go," he said, obviously deep in thought and shooed Kratos away with his hand. Kratos walked back out quickly. He never liked the chief or his house, it felt…strange.
Next month, the chief called Kratos again; asking for interesting news, but each time was a negative. Four years past, and Kratos, now eleven, never saw anything else weird with him, except for one day as soon as he left the chief for another meeting.
He was outside now, and hard, icy cold droplets of water fell from the sky. No one was out, and Kratos was drenched immediately. Shivering, he made his way home, before he noticed something. His right hand, cold and drenched, was now dry and warm, as if it was placed in a box, and shielded from the rain.
He put his hand up, and saw the rain fall onto his hand, but no signs of wetness at all. Kratos widened his eyes. What was going on? Kratos flexed his hand, turning it in all sorts of directions. Suddenly, black flames burst from his hand and shone brightly. An aura was around his hand, black flames seemed to surround his hands, and Kratos practically freaked out.
He waved his hand around, trying to douse the flames, but it stayed hot and the aura never left. Kratos outstretched his hand towards a nearby barrel, and touched it, expecting flames to burst onto it, but the flame stayed on his hand.
Kratos ran home, his mind racing and fear building. Then he remembered this same hand was the one that disappeared years ago. When he reached the door, he shoved it open and closed it behind as quickly as he could, his heart racing. Kratos' mother appeared that moment.
"Oh, you're drenched! Come here!" she said as she grabbed a thick blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders.
"Um, Mom? Do you see a black flame on my hand?" he asked, lifting his hand for her to see. Kratos could still see them, lapping around wildly, and his hand burned. She squinted hard at the dry hand, and then shook her head. "What? You don't see them, but they're all over my hand? What's going on?" he exclaimed, his heart beating faster.
"Kratos are you okay?" she asked as she put a hand on Kratos' head, it seemed hot too. Kratos nodded to reassure his mother and then ran up the stairs. He walked into his room and closed the door behind him, throwing off the wet blanket. Kratos looked at his hand, the flame never leaving his hand. Kratos grabbed a bucket of water, and put his hand inside. The flame didn't die though, it wasn't even affected. Kratos screamed briefly and dropped the water, adding more wetness to his feet. Quickly, he put the blanket on the spillage, and sat on his bed, his hand right in front of him. Slowly, he touched his hand with his left one, waiting for it to burst into flames. But when he did, the flames didn't even catch onto his hand, and his right hand was cold and wet like the rest of him, though it didn't show it.
Kratos outstretched his right hand, and opened his palm, to touch his wall. It wasn't even affected, and Kratos was severely confused and scared. Kratos held his right hand with his left, and flexed his fingers. They were completely numb, and he didn't feel the pinch he gave to it.
Kratos ran downstairs, and into the basement, where he trained with his sword. He grabbed his small sword and cut his hand with a small jerk. It didn't even hurt, but what surprised Kratos more was that blood didn't come out. Instead, a black substance slowly fell down his wrist. Kratos yelled again in shock, and his mother came racing down.
"Kratos are you okay?" she asked, approaching her shocked son. Kratos, however didn't even hear his mom. He was dazed and confused, not knowing what to think. He closed his eyes and fell unconscious into his mother's arms.
Kratos awoke from the sharp pain in his hand. Wait, sharp pain? He looked at his hand as soon as he could, and noticed it was normal. I'm going crazy, he thought as he got up from the bed he was in. Instantly, he recognized it as his room and walked out the door. From the window, he could tell it was in the middle of the night, and continued to the basement.
What beheld his eyes, made him widen his eyes with shock and make his heart race faster. A large hole was in the wall, and bricks from the wall scattered everywhere. Also, he saw his blood, still black, on the floor. So I wasn't crazy, he thought as he approached the wall. He stretched his hand, and felt the sides of the blasted wall.
They were covered in the same substance as the "blood" from his hand.
Did I do this? His thoughts raced as he picked up his sword. Just like before, the edge was covered in black from when he cut himself.
Kratos asked her mother, but she said that he passed out, and the hole was already there. She also explained she heard no explosion whatsoever, and only heard Kratos scream.
Over the next month, Kratos would feel his hand grow hot and covered in flames. Whenever he asked someone, they looked at him like he was crazy and then would shake their head. Before Kratos saw the chief again, he discovered something else.
His hand was seething again and he had somewhat gotten used to it. He kept staring at it though, and people would look at him in confusion, not that he cared though. While he walked to the house, his hand started heating again, and Kratos saw the flames once again. He stretched out his hand and opened his palm, closing his eyes. Suddenly, he felt the heat rising. Kratos' eyes snapped open, and saw a black ball of Mana in his hands, and flinched, letting the Mana loose. A black beam raced through the street and blasted open a storage house. Everyone that saw him screamed and ran away, leaving him alone to his thoughts. His hand was normal once again, and wasn't surrounded by flames.
When Kratos explained this to the chief, he widened his eyes.
"You must be the prophecy!" he declared, and walked up to Kratos. Kratos cocked his head. He knew of the prophecy, but he didn't have the power of shadows.
"I will send you to the largest city, Meltokio, and have the best teacher train you in swordplay!" he exclaimed. Kratos had heard of Meltokio from his mother. She said it was filled with culture, people, and mercenaries. It was a place to spend your Gald and have a good time.
"Are you sure I am, because it could have just been the druid, but I don't know what happened to me when I was attacked," he muttered to himself.
"Precisely! And when you have mastered the art of swordplay, you shall visit the druids!" he said now, his eyes lit with determination. Kratos froze. One druid nearly killed him. A temple full of them would do who knows what.
"Sir, the druids will kill me! I can't do that!" he exclaimed, considerably more scared.
"You will survive. I know you will!" he exclaimed. "You will leave for Meltokio tomorrow." And with that, Kratos left the house, wondering what will happen to him.
The next day, Kratos left the village that was so dear to him, with a black horse called Lucky, his sword, currency, and food for the travels. He waved good-bye as he hefted himself onto the horse, and left the village, disappearing into the horizon.
Kratos reached the city within a day. He saw the castle towers climbing high into the sky, and the many people that came and went. Kratos grabbed a paper that the chief told him to give to the swordsman, Garro, whoever that was. He finally made it to the gate, and passed by the guards who looked down at the boy in slight puzzlement. Why was a child entering alone?
When Kratos passed through the gates, a wonderful sight beheld his eyes. Shops were everywhere around Meltokio, and people bustled everywhere in hurry. Many of the people wore big dresses with laces and design all over, while the men wore expensive suits. But where was Kratos going to find this Garro? Kratos jumped off his horse, and led him with the reigns. Slowly, he approached a yong woman with blonde, shoulder length hair, and a deep blue dress.
"Excuse me?" he asked nervously to the woman. She looked at the child and smiled.
"How can I help you, sweet boy?" she replied, bending down to be eye level with Kratos.
"Um, do you know where Garro is?" he asked, showing his name on the parchment. She smiled, and pointed to a large house on the edge of Meltokio. Kratos hastily thanked her and ran off to the building she indicated. Kratos approached the house and knocked a couple times and waited, but there was no reply. He knocked again, and this time he heard a faint voice.
"Coming," the voice said in a deep tone. A middle-aged man opened the door, and looked at Kratos with a scowl. He had messy black hair and bluck fuzz growing on his chin. His eyes were squinted, but they had a little kindness in them as well.
"Are you Garro?" he asked, and when Garro nodded, he handed the paper to him. Garro stood for a moment to read the sheet of paper. He raised his brow quite a few times, and widened his eyes at the end. Finally he looked down at Kratos.
"So you want me to train you?" he said. Kratos nodded, and walked inside with his new teacher.
Mr.Who2123: Cliffhanger! Mwahahahahaha!
(Kratos looks at Leon)
Kratos: Do I know you?
Leon: You will.
Kratos: Whatever.
Mr.Who2123: Okay dudes; tell me if it was as good as the last chapter. I know I skipped a lot of time, but that was because I didn't want a seven year old leaving. Anyways, it will get more interesting next chapter. I promise!
(Note, 4/10/07: I've updated it!)