(A/N) *Cringes* Ah, yeah, so it's ... been a while? Yea didn't think that'd work, but worth a shot. So, no excuses, but I did get a free-ride to a top-ten engineering college in the nation, so I don't care that this is over two months late. I just hope you guys still sort of know what's going on, because I love this story, and no matter the update time, it's not going hiatus.

Disclaimer: I don't own much of anything, including Symphonia. Don't sue for the plot line, IT'S MINE.

Chapter 29

"Freeze!" Yuan hissed under his breath, digging his heels into the stone floor to keep from whipping around the corner. Zerai stumbled into his back, nearly pushing the halfling out into the open.

They were in a tricky situation.

As the half-elf pressed up against the wall, he risked a short glance around the square corner and caught his breath, ducking back into safety.

"Are you sure this is the way to the Counsel's primary room?" Yuan muttered, analyzing his very limited options. Zerai hummed lightly, not seeming to take their circumstances in their full gravity.

"Positive. This is the only way to get there from this wing." Yuan swore softly under his breath. The plus-side was that Zerai had been interrogated enough times to know where they needed to be to find the others; the down-side was the immense amount of security freeing the Sylvaranti had cost Yuan. Before he could slink in the shadows with relative ease, now it was all he could do to not run into a frantic patrol in each hallway. All they had to defend themselves were his own butterfly blade and a lonely dagger he'd lent the human. Hopefully that also meant the entire prison had become less focused on Kratos and the half-elves, and more so on their missing prisoner of war.

"Well, there has to be another way. It's far too crowded to get through without a fight." Yuan retreated back a couple more steps from the danger of discovery.

"When I say 'only', I mean it. There isn't another way." The edge to the man's voice elicited a dark look from Yuan, but it couldn't be helped. Kratos, Martel, and Mithos were likely just beyond the guards in the hall, and Yuan was getting twitchy. He was taking too long. Their very lives could be depending on his decision, and he was hesitating. Zerai seemed unsettled by his quiet.

"You're not considering it?" He whispered furiously, "There are at least twenty of them blocking off that corridor. You can't break anybody out if you're dead!" Yuan suddenly remembered the cool weight in his pocket.

"There won't be anyone to break out if we wait too much longer." He hissed back, feeling his anger rise. "You're indebted to help me help them. We're going this way, and we're going to make it through." A bit of his old authority was coming back to him, and he felt confident enough to leave the exsphere exactly where it was. "Besides," he muttered with a bitter smile, "Twenty against two? That's nothing." Zerai grimaced. However, in testament to his character no other argument passed his lips.

"What are we waiting for, then?" He frowned, getting a fresh grip on his dagger.

"That's more like it." The halfling smiled.

Kratos' sharp gaze followed the soldiers that trailed out the main door. Less than half of those stationed in the room remained, numbering around fifteen. The 'General' had stormed out furiously, and Kratos could only think of one person that could make him so mad.

Yuan.

The revelation that his friend was fronting a suicide mission with little to no help whatsoever made the Tethe'allan's stomach turn. What an idiot! Though, assuming Yuan was out there, he had carved out an opportunity for escape. Grudgingly, Kratos had to admit that breaking out the Sylvaranti was a rather smart move if not shamelessly self-destructive. Did he have a death wish?

Kratos wasn't going to let the gesture go to waste.

As of the moment, he was unbound and loosely guarded. He wouldn't have another chance this good. First things first, he needed a weapon.

"Excuse me," still feigning formality and a touch of concern, he approached the nearest guard. The man took a step back, gripping his hilt, but only appeared cautious. "The Sylvaranti that escaped wouldn't happen to be the one detained near where I was? I thought he was scheduled for execution." He made mindless small talk all while taking innocent steps closer. The man had let his guard down a bit more, and that was when Kratos struck.

His left hand blocked the clumsy flailing strike he knew was coming while his right darted to the hilt of the sword at the other's belt, slipping it out from the sheath effortlessly. He ducked another punch before knocking the heavy hilt on the crown of his victim's skull. Out cold, the man slipped to the floor. The entire ordeal had lasted the span of two seconds, and now Kratos had the full attention of the remaining fourteen guards. His fingers clenched around the standard weapon as he sized up each of their nervous glances. Thankfully, it hadn't occurred to any of them to hold the halflings at sword point just yet.

Immediately, two others were on him with their own short swords drawn. Calls of alarm rang out, and Kratos parried quickly before risking a glance at Mithos and Martel.

"Get back!" He called out, hoping they might stay out of the way of the flashing blades and somehow break out of their bindings.

Mithos, meanwhile, saw his opportunity to help. Unable to loosen the ties pinching his arms behind his back, he clenched his eyes shut.

"I call upon thee, Vo-" His words were clipped off sharply with an elbow to the ribs. He twisted to see Martel shaking her head.

"No, Mithos. Not here. It'd be more harm than aid in the long run." She was working her arms behind her back furiously, and Mithos sighed in frustration. He struggled to his feet amidst the clang of swords, eye trailing the blur that was Kratos with awe. The human cut down his attackers fluidly, and the blonde halfling was surprised at his earlier, almost underhanded tactics. He supposed anything was fair in a fifteen-on-one fight. A couple of the brighter guards were struck with the idea to hang back, one even breaking away presumably for reinforcements. The boy tried not to smile as the man skid through the double-door as if demons themselves were hot on his heels. A soldier being flung back in his general direction caused the boy to stumble to the side.

"We have to help somehow!" He spoke as fiercely as he could without drawing too much attention to himself.

"To do that we must first not be a burden." She reminded him, slipping her bonds off expertly as they had somehow been severed. The mystery was solved momentarily as she rubbed her fingers together, drawing Mithos' gaze to her usual, dull jade ring with its single pointed gem. He scrambled to her side, turning so she could undo the knotted ropes.

"Hey! They're getting free!" One of their more observant foes called out. Immediately a few of those Kratos couldn't efficiently keep distracted changed course to detain them again.

"Don't split up!" Martel pushed her younger brother behind her, throwing an arm up with a simple barrier enchantment to ward them off a bit longer.

"Fire Ball!" The blonde cast his quickest spell, driving three flaming embers into separate targets skillfully. Kratos had made his way back towards them, crumpling guards left and right and ducking under flailing swords to come between the halflings and the remaining four men. Always deflecting with the flat of his blade quickly spurned their offensive attempts, and after the jarring block sent any one of the Tethe'allans reeling, Kratos capitalized and finished the job. With the assistance of two competent spell-casters, the last few men were dispatched within minutes.

"I count only fourteen unconscious. There were fifteen." Kratos muttered darkly, eyes scanning over the dark, stilled bodies of his countrymen as he drifted cautiously to their only exit.

"One ran off." Mithos swept his bangs out of his eyes, following the swordsman to the door.

"All the better to be leaving." Martel sighed, grabbing two crude weapons for herself and Mithos. Upon the questioning glance, she elaborated as she tossed him a short sword. "Anything is better than nothing, Mithos. You may not have time to cast." Kratos nodded and leaned against the enormous wood lattice framing the entrance. Peering out the slightly ajar door gave him a clear view, but he could hear the clamor of fighting down the hall.

"Luck is in our favor, an exit isn't too far. This room is on the main level." Kratos informed them, swinging the door completely open and striding into the corridor with evident purpose.

Still intent upon the situation, Mithos tried not to get too distracted. "Why would royalty know the prison layout?" He couldn't help being curious. Surprisingly enough, the question was not scorned.

"I sat in on quite a few trials before I left." Kratos noted idly, "That was the main room in which they took place." It was funny how easily justice could be twisted into wicked corruption.

Mithos watched the human intently as he took them further away from the sounds of battle. It was the first good look he had gotten of him since learning the truth, and Mithos scarcely noted any difference. Perhaps some stubbornness lay in the curve of his jaw line, and royal blood in the oddly burnet eyes, but divine right? Hardly. Enigma and prestige made for an overall intimidation, but Mithos could not spot a smidgen of superiority in Kratos' face. For someone raised in the heart of an empire, Mithos expected a godly ego. Such self-importance was nonexistent, and for that much he was glad.

Three turns more and Mithos was met with the grey evening light that trickled in through the arched exits down the hall. Almost ready to break into a run from the excitement, the blonde halfling found himself quickening his pace to reach the escape that was just within reach, not two corridors away.

"I can't bel-" Martel's hand muffled his words as she pulled him flat against the wall, a position mirrored by Kratos on the opposite side of the hall. In his relief, Mithos had ignored the padding footsteps approaching the intersection. His hand clutched the worn grip on his weapon, clammy with nervousness. Martel's grip loosened and she silently positioned her body in front of his, unconsciously protective. Pressed to the cool stone, he picked out the dark shadows crossing fifteen yards ahead of them, their eyes trained ahead and unseeing. Soldier after soldier passed, but he dared not breath a word. There were so many, yet they were not discovered.

Minutes after they passed, Kratos gestured for them to go. The exit was clear for now, and no doubt another patrol was in circulation of an equally formidable size. They had to move. Martel nodded, determined, at his side. The buildings beckoned outside as safe havens promising concealment. Darting through the danger zone, Martel dragged him by the hand as they ducked into the nearest alley, a narrow one between two run-down shops. He spun to see if they'd been discovered, only to realize that Kratos had not followed them.

The messy head of hair framed his smoldering eyes, communicating a message as he remained at the corner- the very line defining the most perilous region. Mithos waved his hands furiously. Why wasn't he coming? About to go back in in order to attempt to retrieve the swordsman, Mithos felt a tug on his shirt. Martel pulled him back, and he saw Kratos give a shake of the head in denial.

He mouthed a name. Yuan. And just like that he was turning around, retreating back into the prison from which they had just escaped.

Yuan? Yuan was in there? Mithos watched, confused, as Kratos disappeared into the depths of the maze once again. As he followed Martel deeper into the city, he noted with disdain that the citizens were steadily draining back into their homes, apartments, and inns. Curfew must be fairly soon. Martel was steady at his side, and after taking the main cobblestone street a couple blocks, Mithos realized they were heading to the sewer system.

"Are we leaving them?" He hissed angrily.

"We can't do anything else for them." She reminded him, face set despite the frown pulling at her lips. "It'd be best for us to meet them outside Meltokio. If we hang by the sewer entrance, we can give them until nightfall before we'd be forced to leave for Sybak." As much as Mithos wanted to argue, he had to agree.

"It's not right. They could die in there! Not to mention, someone needs to help Queen Aurion before they execute her as well." So much had gone wrong in such a short span of time. However, a thoughtful look crossed his sister's face. Swiping a pale strand of hair from her face, she corrected him.

"I think Lady Nyx will be just fine if Kratos succeeds in getting himself and Yuan out of there." Upon the scrunching of Mithos' eyebrows, she continued. "Just think: The city is already in a tenuous situation. The military barely has control, and for that reason Nyx was left alive in the first place. As no admissible proof has been given for Kratos' reappearance, and no trial has taken place, if he escapes, and they still try to blame him for her murder..." She trailed off.

"No one would buy it." Mithos finished, smiling a bit, "They'd lose any credibility they have. People would be in uproar." He felt a little lighter at that, even though Kratos still weighed upon his thoughts. It was simply the elimination of one of a few impossible tasks.

Yuan swore as more soldiers rounded the corner at a full gallop. There were just enough of them to begin to box off their flanks, and soon, the halfling realized with a sinking sense of dread, they'd be cornered. Steadily retreating down the hallway did them little to no good. Zerai twisted out of the way of a rapier a little too slow at his side, the thin blade trailing a red line across his arm.

There was no end to them.

"This better be goddamn worth it!" The raven called out as he sidestepped a Tethe'allan's charge and mercilessly cut him across the neck. Despite his imprisonment, Yuan noted he was scarcely any less lethal- perhaps only a bit rusty.

"Isn't it better than being hung?" His reply was snarky at best, caustic at worst. Far too preoccupied with his butterfly blade busily dancing across enemy swords, Yuan managed to deflect a few incoming attacks.

"There is that..." The voice of his newest companion trailed off into the clang of weaponry, "But whoever this person is we're going after ah-" A narrow avoidance of an axe elicited a stutter, and Yuan felt his stomach clench, not for Zerai's safety, but for what he dared to say, "He's probably already dead!" Furiously, the teal-haired halfling forced two more iron-clad guards into a sprawling mess on the floor and leapt back further. How could he have the gall to suggest such a thing? Tongue ready for a sharp retort, amid the distraction of battle, Yuan was cut off by something much, much more relieving.

"Already dead? I should hope not."

Several of the twelve standing Tethe'allan prison guards whirled completely around as Kratos blazed into the battle field. The auburn hair flashed on the other side of the mass, and Yuan found renewed vigor in his previously unending fight.

"I was wondering when you'd show up!" Yuan called across the panicking mess of soldiers, knocking one across the skull and another in the small of the back with the flat edges of his blade. If it was possible, the many Tethe'allans were getting pinned in the hallway by no less than three sword-wielding fugitives. Kratos did not deign to answer him, but quick work was made with his surprise attack. It was clear the soldiers could not handle an assault on two fronts.

When the last man was felled, Yuan struggled fruitlessly to keep the grin from his face. Kratos' mouth twitched up in what was almost a smile before he became entirely serious once again.

"You're a moron." He muttered, threading a hand through his hair that only served to aggravate the spiky locks more. Yuan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I'd argue against that, but I don't really have any evidence to the contrary." He could feel what was once the slim prospect of success becoming a very real future. And here he thought he was going to die a traitor to his country. A dark laugh to his side reminded him that Mysan was still present. Right.

"You've got to be shitting me." The man shook his head after meeting Kratos' eyes. "It's you again." Yuan did find it peculiar that he seemed to recognize the magic swordsman. Yuan hadn't thought they'd ever had personal contact. The mystery was saved for later as Kratos sighed and let his blade tap against the stone floor before turning back around.

"You're both morons." Yuan liked to think there was a fondness hidden in the exasperation, but it sounded an awful lot like wishful thinking on his part. Regardless, he couldn't keep the jaunt out of his step as he followed his friend to what he assumed was safety, too tired and stressed to argue against his allegedly 'moronic' actions.

"I resent that." Zerai mumbled under his breath as they traced the corridors. They wasted no time sifting around corners and jogging down passages, backtracking if any troop movement was heard. Eventually, the arches Yuan knew to encase the building came into view.

And they swiftly ducked into obscurity once again.

Night was growing more pronounced, the dimness of dusk gradually darkening the sky, and Yuan had never been more grateful for the cover of shadow. The embrace of darkness was concealment and invaluable invisibility. He sighed in relief, the open air cooler against his skin than the dank humidity of the prison. However, they weren't out of the woods, yet. He silently trekked alongside Kratos as they headed for what was sure to be the sewer system.

"Feeling nostalgic, yet?" He kept the smile out of his voice as they dropped through the loose manhole cover for what felt like the tenth time. Kratos shot him a look, with only the glimmer of what faint light there was telling Yuan where his eyes were in the even darker sewer.

"Hn. Hardly." The unintentional taunt was in his voice, just begging Yuan to say it.

"You know, I did beat you here." He smugly stated while casting a more elementary version of the Photon spell, flickering a small orb of fluorescence into existence in front of them.

"For the first and last time." Kratos dryly retorted, causing Yuan to deflate a little and the light to consequently dim.

"Whatever. Forget I mentioned it." He deadpanned as they made a left and two rights on the lattice of crosswalks. Zerai was curiously silent behind them, but Yuan paid him no mind. The halfling was practically high on adrenaline, near death experience, and a miraculous reunion. Stopping abruptly in his tracks, he trained a startled gaze on the Tethe'allan.

"You did get Mithos and Martel out? Did we leave them?" He felt his breath pick up. Had he forgotten them? Why didn't he question the fact that Kratos was leading him away. How could he let something so monumental slip his mind?

"I'm insulted, Kaafei." Kratos turned his nose up at the thought, and Yuan's heart rate calmed a bit. "With any luck they came to the conclusion that leaving the city was the safest option. Given Martel's clear head, I'd imagine they're waiting for us."

"Kaafei?" The more reserved Sylvaranti spoke up, "As in Yuan Kaafei, Sylvaranti commander out of Triet?" A reluctant nod from the half-elf elicited a stutter from Mysan. "You're Sylvaranti and he's Tethe'allan? What the hell is going on?" Yuan couldn't help but snort indecently at the skeptical, stunned tone the liberated man had employed.

"I never said I was Tethe'allan. You assumed as much." Kratos frowned as they continued their slow pace amidst the trickle of stagnant fluid.

"So you're Sylvaranti?" The confusion faded from the other's face.

"No." Kratos' blank delivery caused Yuan to give a short laugh at Mysan's expense. The understanding vanished to be replaced with bewilderment, and Zerai was silent once again while they walked.

"Do you two-" His eyebrows scrunched together, "get along?" The words sounded foreign the way he spoke them and Yuan was in turn quite perplexed. Surely it wasn't so impossible for two people to overcome geographical division?

"What do you think?" The words were sharp coming from Kratos' mouth, and Yuan detected a hint of malice in them. He blinked. Kratos was quick to tell anyone off for prying, but it was a harmless question. Perhaps more lay within the words that Yuan had missed.

"Temper, temper. I get it." Zerai raised an arm in an empty, placating gesture and the silence felt much more tense than before. Clearly upon first inspection, Yuan had missed the fact that Kratos seemed to have a hefty dislike for their newest acquaintance. He was saved from breaking the ice anew when the pathway tapered off towards the exit and a blonde child whizzed into his field of vision.

"Yuan! Kratos!" The teal-haired man winced at Mithos' volume, "I can't believe you're still alive!" Oddly enough, Mithos was entirely chipper about it and that somehow didn't sit well with Yuan.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He sighed as the small boy had immediately turned his attention to Kratos and Mysan. Seriously, he was feeling a bit ignored for being the one who orchestrated the miraculous escape. While Mithos jabbered incoherently to the other ex-prisoners, Yuan finished his short trek to the outdoors, where he could see Martel had perched near the broken pillar. Relief clouded her emerald eyes even in the dusky evening.

"He meant thanks," she nodded to the bobbing head of blonde hair, "Though at first I had no idea that you were the one behind that distraction. Good thinking there." She smiled softly, and Yuan smiled in return. It was a contagious kind of reprieve, and he felt himself relax a bit more. "Though, you broke out a Sylvaranti? Can we trust him?" Yuan suppressed the instinct to flinch at her words, unknowingly wounding him as well. Mithos and Martel both had no clue of his allegiance to Sylvarant, and if they didn't get rid of Mysan soon, it was bound to slip.

"He owes us a debt. I don't think he'll try anything." Yuan shrugged nonchalantly, hiding the way his heart skipped a beat at her words. Even the purity of Martel was not untainted by sectional dispute.

"They said he was responsible for seven deaths and that awful strike at Latheon Gorge." Her eyes drifted over to the steely-eyed man in uncertainty. "I'm not sure I want him hanging around Mithos." She admitted softly, and Yuan grimaced slightly. The public knew little of the truth behind the actual happenings at the Gorge. Propaganda had no doubt left a lasting mark, likely turning Tethe'alla into the victim instead of the perpetrator. Swallowing his frustration, Yuan took what hand he was dealt.

"We should part ways as soon as possible." He agreed, still frowning to himself as he watched Kratos separate himself from the other Sylvaranti. Despite the hardness in the Tethe'allan's posture and the emotionless mask, Yuan could spot conflict in his eyes. He was angry? Frustrated? Whatever the case, the man kept it to himself.

"Let's keep moving." He inclined his head towards the tree line, taking the lead in the direction leading away from the main gate.

Martel, perceptive as she was, arched an eyebrow at Yuan.

"Is he upset?" Yuan supposed she was getting to know them well if she could pick up on such a subtlety.

"Not yet," he answered cautiously, "but you'll definitely know when he gets there." When Kratos got angry, Yuan didn't want to be there. He hoped it wasn't anything he'd done.

Kratos was quick to get under the cover of woody brush, for even in the darkness it was possible to get caught so close to Meltokio. He let the thoughts of travel and safety dominate his thoughts, keeping them away from the irking Sylvaranti that had slipped into intermittent bouts of silence. Mithos trotted up beside him and he knew many questions would follow. He just hoped that the boy wasn't dim enough to let anything important out. Thankfully, the quiet preceding any conversation meant the questions were to be well thought out.

"Hey Kratos," he began, eyes tracing the dark soil as they walked, "Do you really think the General would have killed us? Just for knowing..." He sighed, "It's a stupid reason to die." Kratos' mouth was pressed into a thin line. Simply thinking about Tristan's disregard for virtue made his blood boil.

"I can say with absolute certainty that all three of us would have been killed off in two days time." Kratos kept the edge from his voice. Mithos looked taken aback, however, "Those were not empty threats, Mithos. He is a vile, pathetic excuse for a leader that would stop at nothing to retain what power he has." He slowed his pace, realizing that he sped up in his irritation, each step stabbing the dirt harshly. He cooled his temper before it got out of hand. It wasn't Mithos he was angry at.

"I'm sorry." Kratos' voice grew softer, and Mithos looked up to see his eyes downcast and dark, though the exact expression was hard to make out in the shadow.

"Why are you sorry?" Mithos scowled lightly, "Shouldn't the awful people be sorry? You're a good person, and we can't control the bad people out there." His mutterings grew less scolding and more morose. Kratos narrowed his eyes at the blonde halfling.

"Nothing changes the fact that I could have caused you and your sister to die singlehandedly." Kratos' tone took full blame.

"It was worth the risk." Martel's melodic voice sounded from behind him, and Kratos exhaled in annoyance. He wasn't aware the others were listening in. There was many a nobler cause to die for than the exchange of information. He let the silence draw out.

"I'm completely lost." Zerai struck in cluelessly, lightening the mood somewhat. "I don't know what you guys got in to, but somehow you all know my name. Anyone care to shed some light on the situation?" No one was very forthcoming. "Who the heck are you people?" Yuan likely sent him a dangerous look, because instantly he was on the defensive. "I'm grateful and everything! Just confused!" The save was poorly crafted, and Martel gave a short laugh at his expense.

"Mithos and Martel DeNitro," the halfling boy started, much more chipper now. He inclined his head towards the teal-haired half-elf, "Yuan-"

"Kaafei," Mysan finished indifferently, "yes, we talked a bit." The man let Mithos go on nonetheless.

"And, uh, Kratos." A huff of amusement came from the swordsman. At least the boy had not given a last name to the stranger Sylvaranti.

"Just Kratos?" Mysan had noticed the drop of the last name, made obvious by the superfluous information added to the others in the first place. However, Kratos was not ready to open that can of worms any time soon.

"Just Kratos." His steely tone ended it as they continued their trek through the darkened brush.

Focusing on reaching a relatively safe location, Kratos navigated through the woodland using the stars, seen through breaks in the tree branches. Any military effort beyond the peripheries of the capital would garner more attention than the new regime could afford without explanation, so they didn't have to go far. He'd settle for the clearing north of Meltokio at the base of the Fooji Mountains. They'd easily be able to make it that far within the night, and then could pass through the valleys further north, or follow the ridges to the East or West. He was curious as to how they might plan the next step.

No matter the case, he wanted the Sylvaranti gone and out of their hair. He was not someone Kratos could easily predict, he didn't know him, and he was a disaster waiting to happen. He'd proven that he had nothing to lose, and that made him dangerous to those that did. Martel and Mithos were still too involved for their own good, but if he could convince them, they might have to be pulled in even deeper.

The art of Summoning was the solution to the problem in Kharlan. It was the answer to the War itself. Kratos just couldn't justify plunging innocents into the mix. It wasn't their war, and it was wrong to have to consider such a suggestion, but if there was just a chance that they could end it...

It had to be worth it.

Add the layers of secrets involved with their particular mix of people, stained with sectional prejudice, discrimination, and the hideous militarism of their society, and any noble quest was bound to fail. Somehow, though he would not be able to speak for the others, he knew it was better to die trying than live with the consequences of never searching for an answer.

(A/N) Drop a review if you want, or have any questions. I'll fix any glaring typos as well. Thanks for keeping with this story~