Along the way, the group picked up a young human couple. They had been visiting Asgard when the storm hit Mesanton. The woman cried when Martel gently told her that the city was gone. Yuan and Kratos jointly offered to escort them back to Asgard; they were heading that way, anyway. The young couple agreed and thanked them profusely.
Mithos kept his hands jammed in his pockets, sulking heavily as they walked. "This is stupid," he muttered to Noishe, who trotted along beside him. "They're humans." Much to the young half-elf's surprise, the Protozone whuffed softly, as if replying, Yes, they are.
He considered this for a moment. Mithos had always been taught that Protozones were incredibly intelligent- perhaps even moreso than elves- but the young man had never quite believed that. How could an animal that walked on all fours possibly be more intelligent than even humans? It was a cynicism that he knew others shared, and so he was comfortable with it. His conviction that Noishe's reply was simply responding to the sound of Mithos' voice, he continued talking in low tones. "I mean, the only human here is Kratos."
Again, Noishe gave that somehow-intelligent whuff. Mithos almost stopped walking. It's just in my head, he told himself, and again continued. "Are they stupid, traveling with a bunch of half-elves, or do they think Kratos owns us or something?"
This time, Noishe's response sounded very much like a negative. Mithos looked down at the creature in surprise as the Protozone puppy nudged one of Mithos' legs gently, enough to get his message across but not trip the boy. Mithos looked in the direction Noishe pushed him; Kratos and the young couple were talking quietly amongst themselves. Mithos could barely make out their conversation: "… and Mithos managed to get a good look at the boy before he fled," Kratos told them softly. "He said the boy was a half-elf."
Rather than the reaction of disgust Mithos expected, the couple responded with sympathy. "I think I know that child," the man said. "He's an orphan; his father disappeared before Mariana knew she was pregnant, and Mariana herself died of an illness not so long ago. That poor boy doesn't stand a chance if he's all alone."
"He looked like he had been all alone for quite a while," Mithos interjected accusingly.
Kratos carefully controlled any reaction he had. The couple, however, both looked surprise. "We were trying to gain his trust," the woman said, distraught. "Mariana was our friend. We didn't want her son to suffer alone; but the damage had already been done. She was the only human he trusted."
"Every now and then he'd respond to us," the man continued. "Accept food, or we'd invite him into our house so he could wash, but he never did so if we were present. But he was more readily accepting our help."
The two of them exchanged looks, and the woman said, firmly, "We have to go back."
"Claudette, that's crazy," her husband retorted. "We're almost to Asgard! And the city is destroyed-"
"You said it yourself," Claudette sassed at him. "Maron is alone. Between the racism and monsters, he'll end up dead before too long! We have to go back!"
"It's dangerous," the husband said stubbornly.
Mithos listened to the exchange in confusion. "Can we go back with them?" he asked Kratos meekly.
Both Yuan and Martel, who were silent through the discussion, were listening intently. Kratos knew Yuan enough to know that, like him, he wanted to, but they could not. Finding and subduing both the Sylph and whatever that monster had been was of the utmost importance. It was more than likely Martel wanted to, as well, but… "No," said Kratos quietly. "We have to find that monster. Going back to save one life could cost dozens or hundreds more."
"You're going after that thing?" the husband said, eyes wide. "Sir, you were there when it attacked! You said it almost killed you and your wounds still aren't healed. Is that the smartest thing to do?"
Kratos replied with a slight smile, "No, probably not. However, it is the right thing to do."
At this, the young man stopped. "Jack?" Claudette prompted, her voice worried.
Jack regarded her grimly, and finally said, "Well, if these people are willing to risk their lives to help others, I guess I'd look bad if I wasn't." Claudette squealed in delight and threw her arms around her husband, planting a kiss on his cheek. Mithos suppressed a noise of disgust and looked away, while Kratos caught Yuan and Martel glancing at each other and then placing their gazes firmly on the road ahead, both of their faces brightening. "I guess this is goodbye, then," Jack said once his wife had control of her excitement. "I'm sorry if we slowed you down."
"You did not," Kratos replied. "After all, I am still injured, as you observed. Good luck."
As the group parted ways with the young couple, Mithos looked down at Noishe, slowing his pace once more. "So did they want to go back because they care about that kid, or did they want to because they feel obligated?" he demanded softly.
Despite the "conversation" with the creature earlier, it distressed and surprised Mithos a little to see Noishe move his head in a way that seemed that he was shaking it in annoyance, growled lightly, and trotted ahead to walk with Kratos.
It was a strange, ragtag group. The guards stood wearily, not looking forward to this; the storms had just about filled the living space in the castle already. As the group came closer, one of the guards nudged the other. "Half elves," he said, only a hint of his derision in his voice.
They were professionals. His partner agreed with his poor attitude about the situation, but they were both glad that there was no room anyway. They weren't supposed to discriminate. It was fortunate they didn't have to make something up to keep the vermin out.
It was the human who lead them, the only human in their group. A protozone puppy trotted at the man's heels, something that caused both guards some confusion. He didn't look like a warrior, and his half-elves didn't look like prisoners. If he wasn't with the Sylvarant army, where'd he get the pup?
The human strode forward as the three half-elves hung back. The woman and child watched in mild horror; the half-elf man's expression was carefully blank. One guard was struck with a sudden recognition. "Lord Aurion?" he blurted. His partner wouldn't be old enough to recognize the man, but he did.
"Lord Aurion has died," the man replied flatly. "I am Kratos Aurion. My companions and I request an audience with the King."
"O-Of course, my Lord," the guard who recognized him stuttered. As the half-elf woman and child exchanged bewildered glances, and the half-elf man's expression still remained carefully blank, the guard said, "Please, follow me. My partner will ensure your half-elves are unmolested while they wait."
"They are not 'my half-elves'," Kratos replied evenly, "and they will come with me."
"But my Lord, we need to announce you- with everything going on, the King is quite busy. It may be a while before we can even locate him!"
"Then they will wait with me," the Knight replied with a raised eyebrow.
Now the other guard spoke, brazenly: "We cannot allow any more civilians into the castle without His Grace's approval."
"Then I will wait with them," said Kratos firmly.
Both guards blanched, exchanging their own bewildered looks. Finally, the older guard said, grudgingly, "You may all follow me."
"Well met, nephew. Come closer, let me look at you."
Kratos stepped forward, although not close enough for the King to embrace him. The man's defiance didn't get past the King; he let it go. Kratos had plenty of reasons not to trust him, even if most of those reasons were lies they had been unable to counter. Instead, the King stepped down the rest of the way to him. The man put his hands on Kratos' shoulders, looking him up and down. "You are a handsome man, Kratos," the King said warmly. "This is a problem. I can't mourn my brother when I feel he's standing right here."
"I'm not my father," Kratos protested quietly, simply.
"Of course not," the King conceded. "Forgive me. My grief has made me sentimental." Still smiling, he turned away and strode back up the steps to his throne. "First matters first, Kratos. This will make no difference in Sylvarant protecting you and your… friends." The Knight heard the slight disgust his uncle tried to mask. It was a valiant effort, though, so Kratos said nothing. As the King sat, he finished, "It will only make a difference as to how we protect you. Word of your crimes came before you, nephew."
"I imagine they did," Kratos replied softly, keeping himself carefully aloof.
"Your side of it, Sir Aurion, if you please."
Kratos, having no choice but to trust him, related the story. Parts of it were glossed over; all the King needed to know about how he came to "own" Martel was that he'd witnessed her being rather brutally abused. The Tethe'Allan prince's demand that Kratos turn the half-elf over to him to be a sex slave invoked a look of anger, but it was mild and the man didn't interrupt him.
He did relate, in detail, how the Prince's death came to be. Kratos paused, looking for an indication that his uncle would stop him, but he did not. The King would wait for Kratos to say he was finished. The swordsman ignored a pang of guilt for his little test of the man's respect for him, and then continued.
This surprised the King, and Kratos could tell it did, but he kept speaking. Kratos told him everything; his flight to Yuan's keep with Martel, Martel's sudden show of power that rendered her unconscious, and the decision to flee to Sylvarant.
When Kratos related their discovery of Mithos and the presence of a secret base in Triet, held by a Summon Spirit he had never heard of, the King stood abruptly and walked to a window. "I know him," the King said haltingly. "I know the rest, Kratos."
"What? But how-"
"I am the Sylph's summoner, remember?" This was said with a slightly amused tone. The King continued staring out of the window. "Can that child really do this?" he mused.
"You're in on this, too?"
"I was in communication with my brother about it," the King replied, turning back to Kratos. "Styx told me they'd found a summoner that they believed could form the pacts and restore the Great Kharlan Tree. He gave me no details other than that. He said he wanted to wait and see if the summoner could form a pact with Efreet first. That was the last I heard from him."
"It was a letter?" Kratos asked. The King nodded slightly; "May I read it, your highness?"
"Stop that," the King chided lightly. "And of course you can. You may keep it, if you wish. I have plenty to remind me of him."
"Thank you."
The King ascended his throne once more. "I'll have one of the servants deliver it to you later," he said. "As for young Mithos, I would be more than happy to turn control of the Sylph over to him. However, as you probably know from what happened to Mesanton-"
"We're going to have to fight them, aren't we?" Kratos said sullenly.
"In all likelihood, yes." The King's voice was soft and rueful. "I'm sad to say that both my brother and I made very similar mistakes. It's no small miracle that I'm still alive and Asgard is mostly in-tact. When I got word that Styx's mansion was destroyed and Efreet out of control, I assumed that his summoner had met the same fate he had. Sylph being out of control is the result of me trying to harness more of their power so I could restore the Kharlan tree myself."
Kratos didn't respond to this. "What about the wind demon? That-" the swordsman faltered as a bloody, hazy image of the attack came unbidden. He forced it back, and continued, "That wasn't Sylph. There's no way-"
"No, it wasn't," the King answered. "It is an ancient demon. When the Elves first came to this world, they created the Summon Spirits to assist in fueling the sapling Kharlan Tree they had planted to make the world suitable to live in. That demon was their first attempt at creating the Sylph, and it was a failure. The Sylph's first task, when they were born, was to seal that demon."
"And so, attempting to strengthen your bond to them-"
"Caused them to go out of control, and lose control of that seal."
Kratos shifted his weight, thinking about this. Cleo took a deep breath, and added, "Another side-effect is that I am no longer their summoner. In trying to gain more of their power, I broke my vow. Your half-elf friend only has to subdue the Sylph to gain their power. If it's all right with your group, I will guide you out to their Seal tomorrow."
The knight ignored the bitter hint in the older man's voice. "I see no problem with that plan," he replied. "If we're on the same page, now, I would like to return to my friends. It is late, and they're probably waiting for me to return."
"One more issue, nephew." Cleo shifted uncomfortably on his throne, staring hard at the disgraced knight. "I'm not sure you were ever notified of this; a few years ago, your aunt Teresa passed on of an illness."
The memory of the message, brought to him by the King of Tethe'Alla personally, caused him to flinch. His sovereign had refused to even let him acknowledge the message, let alone attend the funeral. "I know," Kratos acknowledged softly.
"Then you also know that I am without children. With the death of your father, you and I are the only living members of the Balacruf family."
Kratos saw where his uncle was going with this, and his reaction was automatic: "No."
"I need an heir, Kratos."
"I know."
Cleo sighed. "At least consider it."
Kratos didn't want to reply. "May I return to my friends now, Your Grace?"
"I told you to-" Cleo cut off his expression of irritation, and took care to soften his tone. "Yes, Kratos. Sleep well, all of you."
