(A/N) Happy vacation! Wrote most of this in the car xD Sorry for the late update, but life is hectic. Just know I'll never give up on this story~
Disclaimer: If NAMCO would give me the title to the Tales series, I would be eternally grateful. They wouldn't have to buy me a Christmas present ever again...
Chapter 27
Kratos steeled himself before opening the door a crack to slide into the royal quarters. He didn't know what he was going to say, or what to expect. It had been too long since he'd seen her. Too many dramas had unfolded in the years between their last meeting and now for him to gauge her.
The room he had entered was just as he remembered it: a vaulted ceiling, cornered support beams, and the familiar rough grey stone brick framing it. It was then that he spotted her, perched on the decorous navy cushioned bench facing the door. Her chocolate brown eyes were downcast on some imperial document or another and her hair had grown much longer, but she looked so alike to before that Kratos was very aware of how much taller he had grown in their years apart.
"I didn't think anyone could get in." She mentioned, sounding sheepish for someone who had been on the throne for so long. Then she looked up, and their eyes locked.
"They weren't very keen on letting us in." Kratos replied, fully expecting a blow out. Nyx just stared at him for a moment, eyes widened slightly in disbelief.
"Kratos?" She tested the waters, standing up immediately. Her face was crossed with a mixture of disbelief and uncertainty, a cautious expression that reminded him instantly of childhood.
"I've missed you, Nyx." His eyes softened, but Nyx composed herself instantly.
"I thought you were dead. We all did. There were signs of Sylvaranti infiltrators and no ransom." She drew a shaky breath, but took another step closer. "Where the hell were you? How could you dare leave a simple note like that?" Her voice escalated in anger. "You didn't even come to the funeral!" Kratos dropped his eyes.
"He died without setting things right with you." Her voice carried a contradictory relief, but Kratos still felt the stab of regret like a fresh wound.
"I know." Kratos hissed back, "And I did go to the funeral. Sylvaranti were going to crash it, so I had to miss the ceremony in order to set them straight." His own tone hadn't gotten to the point of yelling yet, but he knew he was very close. He hadn't faced the sensitive problem in ages.
"Where were you?" Her voice was biting, but he could hear the hurt. He deserved it. Still knowing this fact did nothing to curb the growing frustration within him. It wasn't Nyx' fault, but the entire situation made him furious. None of it was fair.
"Sylvarant." And thus it began.
When he was finished Nyx blinked owlishly at him. They had both calmed into a serious lull somewhere throughout the torrent of words Kratos had tried to explain himself with. The more he talked, the more he found he had no excuse for his behavior. He had nothing other than selfishness to back his absence.
Nyx must realize that.
Yet as he dusted over their return, taking care to leave out the superfluous information regarding his temporary illness, Kratos found his composure again.
"The most pressing matter is the reason for my return. Though I would rather our reunion be under better circumstances, my companions are waiting in the hall. A sidetrack into Kharlan begot a gruesome discovery. I do not ask for forgiveness, I beseech you to please hear what they must say." His royal upbringing had never felt so obvious to him before, but the formality was all he could cling to when the tatters of childhood were heaped at the feet of his sister.
Still, she was silent, lips pressed into an ambiguous line that told him nothing. Her face bore a striking resemblance to their mother's, but the late Queen had never worn such a mask. The Nyx he knew had never worn it either. He hated that it had happened- that he let it happen. When she spoke, it was thoughtfully noncommittal, but much better than he expected.
"Very well. However much I know you're leaving something essential out, this news can come first." Her voice control slipped a bit to reveal anxiety. "Send them in."
Mithos almost jumped out of his skin when the door swung open to reveal a tense Kratos. Awkwardly, the boy took a short step back away from it.
"It's not like I was listening or anything." He stammered, sure Kratos' grave expression was meant for him. They were all waved in the royal suite without further mention of it, so the halfling relaxed a bit.
He was met with a young woman, probably as old as Martel. Her brown hair was long and intricately braided up on top of her head and her clothes screamed royalty. Hemmed with the signature navy of Tethe'alla and layered like a robe, Mithos easily came to the clear conclusion that this was the Queen herself. She stood to greet them stiffly, as if the prior conversation still weighed heavily on her mind.
"I've been told you bring news from Kharlan?"
Well, she was awfully to the point. Martel's introductory smile dropped quickly at the subject.
"It is true." His sister admitted, "An evil sickness lies upon the Great Tree." Lady Nyx's eyebrows scrunched together.
"Impossible." Mithos watched how her questioning gaze immediately darted to Kratos'.
"If I had not seen it myself, I would not believe it." The magic swordsman grimly noted, and the Queen's expression twisted into disbelief. Interesting. If Martel said it, it was doubtful, but if Kratos so much as suggested it, it was as true as natural law. Mithos held onto that trust as useful information.
"What kind of illness?" She kept in stride, now training her darkened gaze on Martel.
"It is some type of mana deficiency. The Tree is sapping the very life from the earth and the air. We think that the nature energy basis of the newer mana weapons are the underlying source of such a depletion." The detachment of Martel's voice from the situation was frightening- until she added, "My Lady, the Tree is dying. It's out of control."
Nyx seemed to be the skeptical type, but she was certainly listening.
"Is there any evidence to support this claim?" Her worry was palpable, so it seemed to Mithos that she believed them.
"The entire people of Yggdrasil have gone missing. We've seen dead bodies as well." Xilia spoke up for the first time, and Martel nodded grimly. Nyx's eyes widened perceptibly.
"The village beneath the Tree?"
"The Tree is attempting to survive upon leaching the mana from the region. There's no mana flow in the area any more, therefore it's treacherous to travel through much less live in." It was a cruel truth, Mithos still had a hard time coming to terms with it.
"That's why we need you to stop making those weapons!" He frowned. Nyx scowl was sympathetic.
"I've been trying to downscale the war effort, but the military is out of control. No one listens to me anymore." Mithos felt his face fall as she continued, "I haven't even given a public announcement for two months. The best I could do for you would be sending out a search party to see what's become of them." The quiet that fell was rife with disappointment.
"That's it?" Mithos' voice rose an octave, "That's all the Queen of Tethe'alla can do?" They'd done so much sneaking and creeping for a search party of all things?
"I know it's not much, but my movements are so restricted, I'm awfully surprised you all were even able to get in. The guard is tight and the military paranoid." Martel's eyebrows scrunched together.
"Tight? The security officer that took us in left right away. He didn't seem concerned with you leaving." Nyx froze in place.
"He left." The statement was not a question, but a trigger. She trained her dark eyes on Kratos accusingly. "You were not stupid enough to drop your name!" The anger was definitely there, and Mithos was put a little off his guard. Kratos grit his teeth.
"It was the only option left aside from making a scene." He hissed, possibly still sore from the prior conversation. His tone was not something Mithos would dare try against even a diminished royalty, though, so he hoped it wouldn't hurt them.
"Does that mean he'll be back?" The halfling boy asked apprehensively. A short nod from her.
"With both friends and weapons. You have to leave now." Her mood swing ebbed enough for Mithos to see real fear on her face, concealed as it was. "The system is a testy one, the Counsel's making all of the calls without heed of my orders. I doubt they will hesitate to kill you all. The fact that you are even here means that you are obstacles to their carefully planned rise to power." They all stood and Nyx followed them to the door.
"Sorry for the trouble, then." Martel apologized sheepishly, but Nyx shook her head.
"It was I who failed you. Know that I will do everything in my power to solve the problem in Yggdrasil. Kratos will show you the back way out, but you must hurry!" Her words accelerated with haste, Nyx practically shoved them out the door.
Kratos didn't give them any time to dwell on the rushed conversation. Instead, he was leading them the opposite way from whence they came. Mithos didn't know how long it would be until Meltokian soldiers arrived, but Kratos and Nyx had both been in a great hurry, and that was good enough for him. The facts were blurry to the elven child, though. Nyx accepted a great many things- knew a great many things- about Kratos without him telling her. He was obviously close enough to know the layout of the castle.
Their feet pounded on the smooth marble flooring, making no small amount of noise. On the flip side, most of the palace appeared empty. A pithy of comfort in a failing government, Mithos supposed. If the monarchy was going under, what use would the military have in keeping the royal end of operations going? Wherever this other exit was, Mithos could say it was a fair distance from where they started. That did beg a question.
"Why didn't we use this other way to get in?" Mithos spoke as loud as he dared, riding hard on Kratos' heels. The man hardly spared him a glance, but answered anyways.
"It's more of an exit than an entrance."
As soon as the words were spoken, Kratos pulled them to a stop at the end of a hallway facing a wide stained glass window. Mithos twisted to peer down the corridors in either direction, but neither looked to lead anywhere promising.
"We're lucky it's the rainy season." Kratos dully stated as he unlatched the panes and swung them open. It was still late afternoon, so Mithos had plenty of light to see a rippling pond some twenty feet below. The outer wall of the castle shielded them from prying eyes, but it seemed possible to scale. It was awfully thought out for a spur of the moment plan.
"We'll have to jump." Kratos held the window like a door, nonchalantly inclining his head outwards. Mithos, perhaps a little too eagerly, hopped up onto the stone sill.
"At least it's exciting." He examined the pool of mostly clear water, spotting a mossy bottom around six or so yards below the water line. He hoped that was deep enough to prevent injury. It should be, especially if Kratos had done this before.
"Mithos, let Kratos go first." Martel tugged his sleeve from inside, but he shook his head.
"It's only two stories, I can do that just fine." Had she forgotten they were in a hurry? A quick breath, and the half-elf stepped off the ledge, perfectly positioning himself to fall in the center of the pond. It was a short drop, but he still picked up more speed than he had thought he might. He plunged into the cool liquid feet first, feeling his hair and clothing billow up as he sunk in and was cloaked in bubbles. Popping up like a cork, he paddled to the edge of the rocky pool and hoisted himself out. Water trickled off his skin in rivulets, dousing the coarse stone a darker hue of gray.
"Come on!" He yell-whispered as loud as he dared at the peering faces above him. Soon enough, Martel and Xilia came plummeting down with minimal splashes, and Kratos managed to shut the window behind him before dropping down like he'd done it his whole life.
As they all stood there drenched through and through, Mithos was positive that it wasn't right to be so chipper about running from the law, yet he couldn't contain it. It was adrenaline.
"What now?" He asked, checking down the stone wall in either direction for a way out. "Do we climb it?" He pulled lank strands of hair away from his eyes. They wouldn't be able to blend in while in town if they were so wet. Kratos shook his head, funnily enough spraying a bit of water as he did so.
"No, we'll climb over nearer to the courtyard where we can take to the rooftops." Kratos gestured to an outcropping quite a ways to their right hanging over the corner segment of he wall. The heavy stone bricks would make for good hand and foot holds, so they were turning towards the corner at a quick jog when they heard it.
The clanking of foot soldiers.
Yuan found his mind wandering, much to his own horror. He was already in a precarious situation enough as is, crouching in the alley outside the prison. He couldn't afford to draw attention to himself with any stupid mistakes. However, no matter how hard he tried, he kept thinking back to whatever was going down with Kratos. He shouldn't have let the man go, but the more he thought about it, there was going to be no stopping him. Yuan felt his lips turn down into a scowl, but forced his gaze to rove over the archaic jail instead of dwell on it.
It seemed as if the majority of the cells were below- or he guessed as much from the grated bars set at ground level. The actual building itself was only two stories, some kind of gothic architecture he didn't see anywhere else in the city. Contrary to its height, the structure was vast, in a labyrinthian layout full of sharp angles. How they were supposed to find one man in all of this, Yuan had no clue.
Getting in was no issue, at least. He could easily spot several entry points from where he stood. It was deceiving how open the prison was- the doors were nonexistent, instead slender strips of stone were carved out of the pillared walls. Gaping holes littered the sides in a regular pattern, elegant, but frightening. Yuan was tempted to slip in for reconnaissance, but he doubted it was so easy to escape as to enter. The Meltokians must be incredibly confident in the system to lack doors.
Seriously, of all things, doors.
His fingers twitched in anticipation. While he didn't know Zerai Mysan, he'd certainly heard of him. Kratos may not have known, but Yuan was familiar with the man's extensive work. More than a fellow Sylvaranti, he was also a wily tactician. From what he'd heard, the commander was talented, but Yuan didn't trust him on his past merits. While there were amazing feats on his résumé, Yuan could not bring himself to admire some of the more cutthroat achievements.
Bringing Mysan into the fray would also stress his tenuous relationship with his home country. No doubt the Sylvaranti would know his story- he was one of the only half-elves to have made a name for himself. Even in spite of laying low in the Sylvaranti Internal Defenses, he was well known. At worst he would be expected to return to Sylvarant. Perhaps that was why he was so uncomfortable. Kratos was digging up his past while also dredging up all of the controversies they went out of their way to blatantly ignore the last few years.
Tethe'alla or Sylvarant. It never could be both.
Yuan was soon wringing his cape in irritation. Kratos was within the palace by now, and Yuan had no idea if the Tethe'allan would ever be leaving. If he had to drop his identity to get in, then would they even let him walk out? A military coup put the prince in an expendable place if he were to be discovered. The regime would want uncontested power, the kind that a long-lost heir might put into jeopardy. The entire thing made him grind his teeth while gazing upon the fortress that was the prison.
The prison he had to break into. He should be with Kratos right now, not skulking around the back alleys. Some part of him was dreadfully fascinated with the imagined conversations that were materializing while he thought. Kratos was so private that a peek into his childhood would've been an eye-opener.
The halfling's musings were cut short when he caught sight of a familiar bunch of Tethe'allan Knights. Their breastplates flashed between the columns of stone as they patrolled the long corridor along the side of the complex. Yuan let out a short sigh while ducking from view around the corner. They were not only battle-ready, but if his internal clock was anything to go by, they also systematically checked the perimeter every twenty or so minutes. He'd been hoping for something less professional- but the Tethe'allans did have a knack for security.
Yuan hastily picked his way back towards the safety of the town square. The noise of bartering and exchange rendered the city similarly to his first visit. In that circumstance he was searching for Kratos, whereas now they were a single force. A single side.
Upon return to the hub, though, Yuan could not spot Kratos or the Elven siblings. Hadn't it been enough time? Were they held up? So many pieces could have gone wrong, that when he heard the pounding step of foot soldiers, Yuan expected the worst.
A small group of them spun the corner at full speed and barreled through the crowd of civilians. Armor dull and gray, they looked ill prepared as well as flustered. Kratos. Yuan grimaced slightly. His royal highness' stunt may have cost them a great deal of trouble. As he discreetly followed the fumbling soldiers, Yuan hoped he wouldn't be too late. Didn't he warn the Tethe'allan to be careful? At this moment, being an heir put a higher price on his head than the worst type of criminal. The military would go nuts. If they already had trouble with puppeteering the Queen, Kratos would be unusable to them.
They would undoubtedly kill him.
The bobbing helmets were getting too far ahead, so Yuan decided to screw subtlety. He broke into a run, brushing off civilians left and right. Upon rounding a corner, he could finally see the Palace he'd attempted to get Kratos to take him to. It was magnificent, yet Yuan was only able to pray it was a false alarm.
Yuan fell into a slow jog behind the soldiers, not minding the short distance because they never seemed to turn around. The battalion he was following merged in with another, and easily over forty marched in disarray to the castle gates. Where would Kratos be right at this moment? He was smart enough to be plotting an escape, right? Yuan didn't know the first thing about Meltokio, let alone the castle, but-
"Over here!" Several soldiers peeled off along the circumference of the inner wall, others running after them. Damn. Yuan crept as close as he dared, finding it fastest to spy from the rectangular cutouts opening from the defensive wall to the outside street. He circled back around. He wouldn't be able to help them from this side, but he could see what was happening much easier.
Kratos froze in place, exposed just beyond the corner of the building, and ducked back quickly. He peered around the corner stone to examine the rows of troops that were filing through the main gate down the way. If any of them were to turn their heads, the ideal corner was completely open to view. It would be no short climb either.
"It'll be risky." Kratos warned the others, "There are so many of them that I don't think we'd be able to fight our way out before more arrive." Martel dared to glance around the corner as well.
"If we don't plan on turning ourselves in, then it's our only shot." She agreed, eyeing the getaway segment of the wall with distaste.
"I'll go last," Kratos suggested, "if they catch me, I doubt that they'll chase the rest of you." He wiped his wet hands on his drying pant legs, and looked around again cautiously.
"They don't look like they'll be leaving anytime soon." He muttered, "We'd be better off going now before the others finish searching the castle." Martel took it in stride.
"Xilia, you should go first because you cannot fight. Mithos will follow you closely behind, then myself and Kratos." Kratos nodded once. It was a logical order. Those about to scale the wall could defend the others that were climbing it. However, the wall was a tall one, at least a good twenty feet high. He gave them a fifty-fifty chance of getting everyone through.
"Annd go." Mithos called as he sprung out, tugging Xilia by the hand and dashing to the corner as fast as he could. Kratos ducked out behind Martel and helped the boy grab purchase higher up. Xilia was scrabbling up at a decent pace, and Martel hoisted herself up after Mithos. Xilia had just reached the top when-
"Over here!" A few soldiers had spotted them, not thirty yards off, and began to pursue.
"Dammit!" Kratos swore as he drew his sword to fend off the first of them, Knights and infantry men alike bearing short swords and shields.
He twisted his arm to parry a blow, and immediately had to free his sword for another deflection. He risked a glance to see if Mithos and Martel had made it, but instead was met with a falling half-elf boy. Martel had instantly leapt down to her brother's side and away from the freedom on the other side. As the halflings ripped their weapons out, Kratos was forced to stay close and shield them from the swordsmen. There were too many of them.
He could do very little to stop the flow of armored men from surrounding them. No matter how many he felled, hammered in the gut, tripped, or maimed, others took their place. Eventually only a tight circle of space was left around the three and there was nothing he could do about it.
They had been caught.
Yuan was there the moment the researcher made it over the dividing wall.
"Xilia," he hissed, sure that the soldiers hadn't seen her, "over here."
He hid against the side of the overhanging rooftop building, just along the alley way. He could see Kratos and the elven siblings warding off troops. Were Yuan to jump in right now, he'd be useless to them. There was no way even Kratos could keep those soldiers away. Too many kept coming. The wrath of the military was insurmountable.
Yuan's heart was in his throat. He could hardly watch without itching to join them. Kratos was viciously holding his own, but the battle was lost the moment they were discovered. Damp clothing and hair clung to all of them, even Martel's billowing strands fell flat with water. It made them all appear less formidable, fallible.
He held his breath as the three were jostled into a tight circle, surrounded by grey brick and grey armor. They were forced to surrender, and through the square holes in the wall, Yuan could see Kratos toss his sword to the ground disdainfully. Captured and downtrodden, arms were bound roughly and everyone was painstakingly quiet. Yuan and Xilia watched them get escorted away, back towards the castle's gate. The Sylvaranti was quick to leave the safety of the shadows.
They had to be followed. Now Yuan was the only one who might be able to spare them from execution.
Absently, he noticed the Tethe'allan researcher at his heels as they followed the wall and blended in with the citizens when they hit the main pathway. Thankfully, her hair had been pulled up and her clothes were dark. The wet material was hardly noticeable. Unfortunately, the mass of guards with their companions at the center was edging towards the prison. Yuan supposed he should be relieved- it meant they wouldn't be killed right away. All he could muster up was a sense of frantic purpose.
What were they supposed to do? Kratos knew every important piece of information regarding the layout of the jail, whereas Yuan knew next to nothing. He had just been given a near impossible, suicidal task.
He had to rescue three people from the Tethe'allan Military stronghold, with little more than a single blade and his own cunning.
Kratos felt his blood boil. He was being lead about like an inept prisoner of war, one stupid enough to get caught. He realized that was precisely what he was. He had dragged Mithos and Martel to an early grave. Hissing as he was roughly turned towards the general direction of the city's prison, he heard the guard at his shoulder mutter something to another.
"If the Counsel weren't in session, then we wouldn't have to make this walk." He griped. Small blessings, then, Kratos was silently thankful. He'd need a bit more time to furnish a means of escape.
However, upon reaching the dark, curious jail, he was yanked in the opposite direction from his companions. He dug in his heels to force them to a stop.
"Where are you taking them? They've got nothing to do with me." Kratos low tone was strung with frustration. He was pushed into stride again, losing sight of the frightened pair of blue eyes and terrified expression gracing the halfling boy's face.
"Halflings are sent to the other wing." An officer stated boredly. "You get the special treatment- high quality cell, strict watch." Kratos grimaced as they passed into the torchlit halls of the cavernous building. Deeper and deeper down they traveled, until the stone bricks were replaced by carved bedrock.
The darkest cells were down here, where they put the most dangerous criminals. If he wasn't going to be sentenced to death, Kratos would almost be flattered at the caution he was treated with. Perhaps his magic skills could help him to escape and free the others.
When they ceased to traverse stair wells, and instead opted to pass between dark, creaky rows of iron barring, Kratos heard shuffling.
"I thought I had another day." A tired, careless voice called out from one of the darkened cells. The voice sounded defeated. One of the soldiers 'escorting' Kratos opted to kick the bars with a reverberating bang.
"We're not here for you, Mysan!" He called back, yanking open the neighboring cell's door. "Put 'em in here. He can stew next to this treacherous scum." The pointy-faced man twisted a jingling key off the ring and gestured to have Kratos thrown inside.
Bracing his shoulder for impact, and unable to put up his arms to catch himself, Kratos grunted as he hit the cool stone floor, uneven and dusty with disuse. He righted himself swiftly, and only saw in the dim light the door being locked shut. Pessimism leaked into his bones with the sound of receding footsteps and reassertion of silence. Working at the brittle binding seemed a fruitless exploit, but he did it anyways, contemplating the best way out of this eight by eight hole.
The dark was near complete, made darker by the greyness of it all, and his eyes strained to make out the fuzzy shapes across the thin center aisle. He thought he saw something shift.
"So what are you in for?" A tired attempt at a jovial tone was made by the Sylvaranti imprisoned nearby. Kratos wanted to laugh at the irony. Just hours prior, this had been the man he planned on freeing.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Kratos hummed as he felt the true weight of it sink in. He worked his wrists raw with nothing to show for it.
They were all as good as dead.
(A/N) It is so painfully slow to type this on a phone... Hope y'all enjoyed, cause excitement comes! Drop me a review?
Almost forgot to mention- last chapter brought us past the 100,000 word mark! Yes! Thanx for sticking with me, guys!