A/N Cheers for the reviews, guys! And for all those non-UK people who don't know, UCAS is the university admissions service over here, and we have to write a statement saying how great we are and how the unis should accept us. It sucks, but we dont have to do SATs!

Kratos's eyebrows dissappeared beneath his hair at the sound of the cry across the small valley. Confused as to the identity of the person, Kratos withdrew his wings and began to glide the long distance from the hill over to the flat area of ground in front of the entrance to the Tower. The faller was male, wearing a white vest and black trousers. They were lay on their front, feet pointing towards the tower, head bent to the right. Kratos could tell that they weren't out cold; a few struggles here and there, as well as an attempt to push themselves up with their hand closest to the Seraph, their right hand.

However, getting closer and closer to the young man, Kratos noticed something that shocked him to the bone - a mess of chestnut brown hair. Getting rid of his wings and dropping himself to the floor, Kratos raced over to his son and skidded to a halt on his right hand side. Lloyd was trying to lift himself with his right hand, but his head remained flat on the floor.

"Lloyd?" Kratos asked, voice breaking slightly. Lloyd was blinking slowly, not registering the presence of his father. Kratos assumed that he must have taken a nasty bang on the head. Hovering his hand a few inches above Lloyd's glazed-over eyes, Kratos muttered to himself and let a stream of green light exude from his palm to heal the young swordsman. Lloyd's arm dropped and he brought his right hand over his eyes and groaned loudly. Kratos let out a small sigh of relief, before he was snapped back to reality.

"What in the hell are you trying to pull?" He questioned, voice low and menacing. Lloyd pulled his hand away from his eyes and looked shocked to see Kratos kneeling next to me. He briskly sat himself up and turned to face his father, letting his numb left hand fall inconspicuously onto his lap.

"...Kratos, what-"

"Lloyd, just answer my question." Kratos had calmed slightly, recognising the slight hint of fear behind the teenager's eyes.

Lloyd began to shuffle backwards, trying to retain eye contact with the Seraph, "I...I thought it was better that..." the twin swordsman's eyes narrowed abruptly, deciding that being confrontational with Kratos increased his chances, "Yuan told you what was going on, didn't he?"

Kratos's jaw set as he glared at Lloyd, "Yuan told us that you had come to him for help on a little Crusade you are conducting to get some Aionis ore! Now, I'm not as stupid as you may think I am, and you and I both know you wouldn't last long in Welgaia. So, you had better just tell me what you want a shiny stone for."

"I-I can't..." Lloyd said as he shuffled back further still. He winced slightly as a shooting pain hit his left arm again and his right hand immediately grabbed his upper arm for support. Kratos raised an eyebrow.

"Lloyd, what's this about?" he asked, dropping the tone of his voice slightly, "Are you hurt?"

"N-No!" Lloyd shouted defensively as he scrambled to his feet and let his left arm flop to his side. Kratos spotted his left hand, it was gloveless and his Exsphere was surrounded by an angry-looking purple bruise. The Seraph stood and darkened his tone once more.

"Let me see your left hand." He said, taking a step towards Lloyd.

"No!"

"Lloyd, listen to me, I'm not going to hurt you, just let me see your hand."

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Kratos stood shocked, as his son withdrew a sword with his right hand. Kratos had stopped in his tracks and felt his stomach churn at the sight of his son before him. His brown hair was clinging to his sweaty forehead, his chest heaving heavily and his left hand limp and unusable at his side. However, it was Lloyd's eyes that recieved most of Kratos's attention. They appeared distant, yet focused, his pupils had shrunk to a mere fraction of normal size and were full of something Kratos couldn't quite place; perhaps it was fear?

The magic-swordsman sank to his knees and allowed his son to streak back up the path towards the top of the cliff, sitting in shock at the state in which his own son had gotten himself in to.

A/N Thought I would go for a slight change and write a nice short, abrupt chapter. Things may seem a little wierd at the moment, but just stick with it and answers will be given!!