/* Disclaimer: I do not own Tales. I did not invent these amazing characters. But, I do love them as though they were my children!! Does that count for anything? haha…

Please don't kill me if I have my world map wrong… I'll check it later but I just wanted to keep writing the story… ^^;

PS. Does anybody notice Kratos' biggest change? As he regains his humanity, he feels more inclined to satiate his needs, and he feels them more strongly… ie. hunger, sleep, etc. Sorry if I make everything too predictable… I'll try to fix that in the next couple chapters ;D */

Chapter 6

"So I found her, now what?" Kratos whispered, in a daze. Then he mentally chided himself; why did he keep talking to himself lately? He vaguely wondered if this was what senility felt like. But then he was drawn back to the present by her unwavering stare. She wasn't even blinking.

Without thinking, Kratos lifted one of his legs in through the open window. It was amusing, to say the least, and he decided to just go through with the job. He made sure to keep his wings out until he was safely inside- no need to go and wake up the rest of the base should he go crashing down the side of the building. Once that was over with, he looked over at the girl. Or young woman, rather; she seemed to be in her early twenties or late teens. Clearly not a child, but not yet… ah, who was Kratos to judge? He sighed, and approached her carefully.

He inched closer, cautiously, knowing full well that people in this state were not in control of themselves. He approached, knowing that she might be dangerous. And, he walked right up to her, so that he was an arm's length away, knowing that it full well was not a good idea. Kratos wasn't one to make hasty decisions- he had been around for far too long to let the life lesson go unremembered- but he couldn't help himself. She was calling to him, it seemed, and he couldn't look away. He studied her rounded face, her bushy eyebrows, and her full lips. There was a rather nasty purple splotch near her left eye, but it seemed to be receding around the edges, as they were yellowish and less bright. She had cuts too, but they were scabbed over and seemed to be healing appropriately. He was glad that she seemed to be healthy enough- though it was probably helpful that in her condition, had he diagnosed it correctly, she would not be requiring food. No matter the malnutrition she had probably suffered, she would not have felt the effects once she had proceeded past the first stage of the disease. Kratos was fairly certain that the subject had Angel Toxicosis, a condition which the Chosen of Mana would traditionally subject themselves to prior to dying. It could be easily remedied of course, in theory, if one knew where to go. He felt as if something had dropped into the pit of his stomach and started sizzling. Was this guilt? He couldn't remember what that even felt like.

Why do I want to help her? Is it because she's human, and I am also human?

He was abruptly brought back to reality when he heard something creak behind him. He turned instantly on a reflex, his back to the host body. He scanned the room in a split second, looking for something which could have caused the sound, and found nothing- but he was hit from behind with staggering force, as a hand punched his shoulder and sent him to the floor. It was so painful that he had to lay there for a moment, gathering himself. He sat up slowly, being very careful to not accidentally touch the young woman with his feet. He wasn't sure what had set her off, but assumed it must have been his sudden movement. Humans in this state were very unpredictable and typically volatile, so he knew he was lucky to have escaped with such a minor attack (though he did wish he had been more prudent). Kratos stood quietly, with the utmost caution, and made a slow bow before backing up towards the window. He had had enough for one night, and he still had no idea what had inspired him to come this far. Before the guards could decide to check in on the racket he had made, Kratos slipped through the open window and onto the roof, fully glad to be checking out. He rubbed his shoulder on the way back to the clearing, squinting in the brightness of moon and circling the building for half a revolution, looking for the forest and his point of re-entry. On second thought, he had no desire to get lost in the woods- he was tired of feeling lost now- so he flew directly towards the clearing illuminated by light, eager to build his campfire.

…

The moment his feet had firm ground beneath them, he retracted his wings and tried to control his breathing. For some reason, it felt as though he were being compressed, and he didn't like it. He felt cold, and made a pile for the logs much more hastily than he had originally planned. It was not entirely sturdy or elaborate, but he lit it anyway, chanting "Fireball" as quiety but firmly as he could. He didn't want the spell to fail, but he was short of breath and he didn't want to alert the ranch guards either. He hadn't planned on camping so close to anyone who would recognize him in the first place. It was bothersome to say the least, but it would do until morning. Then, he knew he would have to get away quickly; he couldn't risk being seen. Kratos stared into the flames, watching them grow and consume each other, and that thought kept repeating in his head: I can't be seen, I can't be seen; I can't be seen.

Morning came sooner than he had expected. The moon had gradually slid away and bright colors started spreading across the eastern skies. The wind picked up, and the fire which had been small to begin with was snuffed with one swift gust. Kratos stood; it was time to go. He tried to picture the world of Sylvarant in his head, and decided to head to Luin- it was the town closest to here, and he was hungry again. He didn't have any plans beyond that when he took to the skies, heading towards the rising sun.

He arrived in the middle of the day, careful to land at the edge of a forest to the west of the city, away from the sight of the villagers. He had been spotted before, just once, and he never wanted to have to go through it again. People fawning over him, or fearing him, depending on the person- it was interesting the range of reactions he had received. Most agreed he was an angel, but wouldn't even let him speak, making their own assumptions and trying to-

"Excuse me, young man." A middle-aged lumberjack approached him from behind. Kratos turned warily, wondering what sort of reaction he would receive this time…

"Could you tell me which direction to Luin? I seem to have gotten a little turned around…" the man was squinting, and Kratos wondered how he could have made it this far if he couldn't see. He was glad that the man probably wouldn't notice the unusual material of his outfit.

"I can take you there. I'm heading that way myself."

"Ah, excellent. Thank you, young man." He smiled, and Kratos noticed he was missing several teeth.

The walk there was not long, but it was fairly awkward. Not that this was a problem for Kratos, however; he preferred silence to anything else. The two men didn't have much in common, though in the beginning the elderly man did try to make simple conversation.

"I see you have a large sword there, are you a hunter by any chance?" He asked, meaning well.

"No."

"Hmm… not a hunter, eh?"

"Decidedly not."

"I see…"

Kratos had to restrain himself from saying "No, you don't." He laughed to himself, as quietly as he could- at least he hadn't completely lost his sense of humor.

He was tempted to ask the man why he had gone outside without being able to see properly, but he much preferred the silence. And he definitely didn't want the old man to start a long-winded explanation.

"We're here. Is there any particular place you would like to find?" Kratos made a stab at being polite. It felt a little strange, but he didn't want to seem suspicious.

"Actually, I'm on my way home. Would you care to join me for lunch?"

"Sorry, I'd actually better get going."

"I see. Well then, thank you for walking with me."

Kratos nodded curtly, and left the old man to his own devices. There are other people who will help him better than I could. It was not his duty to be the eyes for every old crackpot in the world, after all. He was an angel of Cruxis, for Martel's sake. He was one of the four seraphim. The fact that he had stopped to help a doddering old stranger was a miracle in and of itself. He proceeded to walk toward the inn, as his stomach growled menacingly.

"It's been ages…" he mumbled.

I did it again. Talking to myself…

Kratos stopped for a moment in the middle of the path, and made a vow to himself that he would figure out what was wrong with his mind. After breakfast, of course. He continued walking, glad nobody else had seen him muttering to himself, and opened the door to the inn. The woman at the counter stared at him as he walked in, and he cursed himself for not buying a change of clothes first. However, he did not let this faze him, and he proceeded to the counter.

"I would like to order lunch, please."

She was still staring blankly, and he was reminded of A012. He closed his eyes, trying to remove her from his mind, but he only saw her face more vividly as if she were pasted to the back of his eyelids. He opened them again, trying to escape the thoughts, and was relieved to see the woman was trying to fix her hair instead.

"I would like to order lunch. I'll pay whatever fee you require of me."

The woman smiled dumbly and told him to wait while she asked the chef for a menu. He found this procedure to be a bit illogical, but he was very famished after his flight and he was looking forward to a breakfast without eggs. In fact, the thought was very exciting to him- he envisioned having toast with jam, and perhaps a- then he realized he was ordering lunch and sighed heavily, crestfallen. If the food was good, he promised himself he would stay here for the night and order breakfast.

Kratos quickly became irritated when the woman did not return. Each minute felt like an hour, and he was still quite hungry. He walked back to the counter, and leaned over it as far as he could, hoping to catch her eye through the door to the kitchen.

"Hello?"

He hoped they had heard him, and returned to the opposite wall, leaning his back against it and closing his eyes, willing himself to relax. It was not like him to feel impatient, although even being on Sylvarant was unlike him, so he couldn't truly make a conjecture…

"Hey there, sorry for the wait. Chef says we stopped serving lunch at four o'clock."

"Well then, may I order dinner?"

"Not yet sir, it's only five. Come back in two hours, please."

Kratos groaned loudly. He was reminded of why he hated the human world so much- all these meticulous rules and irritable people. He didn't say another word to the girl, and stormed out into the sun.