Disclaimer: I do not own any of the places or characters in Tales of Symphonia. I just write about them and meet them for tea every other Sunday.

Author's Junk: Hello, hello. Sorry about this chapter. I believe it's a tad short and it's a tad crummier than usual, but forgive, please. And read and review. Please. Anyway, this one…not many notes about this one…Just the frustrationtowards the auto edits that fanfiction makes. I know that they want to eliminate stupid stuff, but really, a question mark followed by an exclamation point is hardly stupid; it's an accepted practice in writing as far as I know. Hmm. Rant over. But, anyway...please, please read and review! And tell all your friends/extended family to read and review! It is greatly appreciated, really it is. And if you have any advice/feedback/complaints/questions/comments it is all welcomed! So, the last thing to say is, well…enjoy!

The Act of Shattering Peace:

Chapter Four:

Chill

The first days of the New Year brought with them a snowstorm so huge, it could be easily compared to the everyday blizzards in far-off Flanoir. Heimdall, which received a rather balanced amount of the seasons during the year, had never truly experienced such a snowstorm before, and so it took several days after the fact before people decided to emerge from their houses.

Yuan shivered and looked out his frost-covered window. It looked as cold out there as he felt, and he returned to the refuge of the hearth before his woodstove. Sighing, he stretched his hands out, closer to the flames. He was lucky to have this woodstove, he decided. He had never thought that he would actually have to use it other than for cooking, but in an emergency like this, it sure came in handy. He rubbed his hands together and stuck his feet out in front of him. The hearth was almost uncomfortably hot, but Yuan didn't really care. It was better to be too warm than too cold.

There was a knock on the door. Yuan looked up, shocked that anyone would emerge from their home in weather such as this. His mind strayed to Martel and, as much as he would love to see her, he hoped she was at home warm before her own fire. It was still snowing and the wind didn't help warm the sub-zero temperatures, so even a couple minutes outside was a sure ticket to Frostbite City.

Getting up from his warm path, Yuan hurried on bare feet towards the door, cursing the frigid tiles beneath his toes. He opened the door a crack and a gust of wind and snow came in, chilling his wrists, feel and ankles, the few body parts he had not covered up with several layers of clothing. Blinking through the white, he saw a completely snow-covered figure in front of him. From the height, it was obvious who the stranger was.

"Kratos!" Yuan said, stepping backward and allowing his friend to come through the threshold. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Hello to you as well," Kratos said, brushing snow from his arms. "I hope I am not intruding?"

"Of course you're not! Get in here!" Yuan quickly closed the door, but it was no use; the temperature in his once toasty house had dropped several degrees. "Now answer me, what the hell were you doing out there?"

"Does an old friend need an excuse to visit?" Kratos said, raising a frosted eyebrow. He shook his head slightly, dislodging great lumps of snow from his hair.

"No, but…" Yuan gaped as he saw the amount of snow that Kratos had collected. "Holy Kharlan! How long were you outside!"

"Several days, I believe," Kratos said mildly.

"Several…? Kratos, you're insane!"

"Shall I take that as a compliment or a blatant insult?"

"An insult, you fool!" Yuan said, pushing him over towards the woodstove. "Now go warm up before I have to get the healer because your limbs are falling off."

Kratos, for once, did what he was told, and Yuan busied himself with covering the snow by the door with several towels. There was no way he would open that door again. And besides, that way, his floor wouldn't get so wet.

"So tell me," Yuan demanded again, returning to his woodstove. "Why the hell were you out in the blizzard for so long?"

Kratos, who was removing his gloves, didn't answer. Raising his hands stiffly, he considered them for a moment before resting them on the blazing hearth. A steady trickle of steam began to rise from his hands as they thawed, and Yuan noticed they seemed to be tinged an interesting shade of blue.

"Kharlan," Yuan swore, kneeling beside his friend and grabbing his wrist. Upon further inspection, Yuan realized that Kratos' hand wasn't just a little blue; it was also gray and slightly purple. Yuan looked up at Kratos.

"What happened?" he said quietly.

Kratos pulled his wrist out of Yuan's grip, and settled his hand on the hearth again, beside the other one.

"I believe I already mentioned it," Kratos said lightly. "I was out in the blizzard for awhile."

"Awhile? Several days isn't just awhile, Kratos. Especially in this weather. What happened? What possessed you to wander around in a blizzard of all things? Why weren't you at home?"

Kratos looked at him, and a weird smile crept onto his face. Yuan immediately shut up. Of course, how stupid. He shouldn't have said anything. He knew as well as anyone that Kratos didn't have a home; he kind of wandered from place to place, finding refuge wherever he could. It was strange, really; plenty of people had offered him a home, including Yuan, but he never accepted. Yuan could only assume that those were the side-effects of becoming a mercenary at such a young age; he wasn't used to a stable home, so why should he seek one out?

"Sorry," Yuan muttered immediately. "Didn't mean to…but you're still stupid! You could've come here sooner!"

"To answer your question," Kratos said quietly. "My 'home' was burned down."

"You had a…what! It was…burned down! By what!"

"By whom should be your question," Kratos said simply, checking on his slowly thawing hands. They looked better now that they had come in contact with some heat.

"What…what do you mean, Kratos?"

Kratos glanced at him unconcernedly. "Arsonists."

"W-what?" Yuan said nervously. "Arsonists? Why would there be arsonists in Heimdall?"

"Why indeed?" Kratos said. "But they burned my house down, to answer your question."

"Why'd you let them?"

Kratos gave a short bark of laughter.

"Well, that's interesting," he said bitterly. "I stood aside and let them do it, did I?"

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that…"

Kratos sighed and shook his head.

"I know," he said. "I apologize. My only excuse is that these last three days have been rather trying."

"You've been out for three days?" Yuan said, sitting down to get more comfortable. "Why didn't you come sooner?"

"That was my plan," Kratos said. "However, certain details impeded that. My 'house' was situated a good distance from here. I thought it would be appropriate so as to not endanger the residents of Heimdall."

Yuan nodded slightly. Kratos has mentioned that to him before; he had been a mercenary, so as well as having to do a lot of unpleasant things, he had also gained a lot of enemies.

"As soon as the storm hit, I ventured out to gather supplies, traveling even farther away from the village," Kratos continued. "When I returned, however, it was to find my house in flames. The fire, I admit, gave a great source of warmth while it lasted, but eventually the second wave of snow hit, and it was extinguished."

"Well, then how do you know it was arsonists?" Yuan said. "If you just came back…maybe something else had happened…"

But even as he said it, he knew that there were too many factors pointing against that hopeful thought.

"No, Yuan," Kratos said, shaking his head. "There were foreign footprints in the snow when I arrived. It had stopped snowing temporarily while I was out, so the footprints were distinct. And the possibility for a fire to abruptly after a blizzard are close to none."

Yuan nodded.

"Did…did you lose anything?" Yuan said hesitantly. He didn't know how much of a 'home' Kratos had established. It seemed kind of unfair; as soon as Kratos seemed to get used to the idea of a stable base, someone came and burned it down.

"Nothing much," Kratos said, nodding at the sword at his side. "That is the only thing I really need. Although, I will need to make Master Mithos a new practice sword…"

Yuan smiled faintly, glad to know that the loss wasn't completely devastating.

"Well, I'm sorry," he said, because there wasn't much else he could do. "You can stay here if you want. Until the blizzard's over, or whenever you want."

Kratos nodded. "That would be greatly appreciated," he said quietly. However strong Kratos might be most of the time, it was times like these that made Yuan realize that Kratos was young too; he had his own worries and insecurities just like him. A slight smile curved his mouth. Stupid bastard. Always getting himself into trouble.

"So I guess your hands got numb from all that cold, huh?" Yuan said, nodding to Kratos' hands. They looked more normal and not like some creepy lizard's skin.

Kratos smiled wryly. "I suppose you could say that," he said.

"What? What's the look for?"

"After my 'house' was extinguished," Kratos said, looking at his hands with a strange sort of fondness. "I had to figure out a way to keep warm so as to not get frostbite and lose limbs."

"And it looks like your plan really sucked, because your hands look about ready to fall off."

"True, it did fail," Kratos said, his face falling a little. "But the principle was correct."

"What principle?"

Kratos looked at Yuan.

"The principle for manipulating mana."

"Manipulating…who?"

"Mana, Yuan," Kratos said somewhat impatiently. "Mana, the life-force within us all."

"Oh…I see…uh…"

"In essence, mana is the root for what you might call magic."

"Oh! I get it! But…wait, you're saying that magic caused your hands to wither and die?"

"They're hardly dying," Kratos said, flexing his hand. His fingers could all bend by now.

"Good. Because I wouldn't have been the one trudging through the snow to the healer's house."

"But yes, magic was the source of my hands' degradation."

"I didn't know you could do magic!"

"Neither did I," Kratos said, the smile coming back. "But I was able to perform a simple spell, which kept me warm long enough to get here."

"Except…?"

"Except, the spell rebounded," Kratos said, his face growing hard. "And it came to be the opposite of what was supposed to happen."

"Then I'm assuming," Yuan said. "That this spell had to do with fire?"

"Amazing. How do you figure these things out?"

"It's because I'm so wonderful."

"That was my fear."

Yuan laughed.

"Well, when it's not so damn cold outside," he said. "You're going to have to sacrifice your hands again so you can show me how to make fire with magic or whatever you were doing. 'Cause it sounds pretty useful…and, well, cool."

"There will be no sacrifice needed," Kratos said, a strange glint in his eyes. "Because next time, I will succeed."

---

The bar in Heimdall was probably one of the more popular locations in the village for obvious reasons. The drink was good, the atmosphere was pleasant, and it was always a good place to hear the latest news. That's why, even through the current bleak weather, the regulars trudged resolutely towards the bar.

At about midday, the regulars for the afternoon had all arrived. The bartender, an elf, greeted them all and gave them their usual drinks. The conversation started as usual, and soon, the bar was full of happy chatter and the sounds of glasses clinking against wooden tables.

Unexpectedly, the door opened, letting in a fair quantity of wind and snow. The regulars looked around at each other, silently taking in account who was there, and who was late…but nobody was missing from the usual crowd. Their attention, therefore, went to the door to see who the newcomer was, but if they were expecting a drinking buddy, they were sorely mistaken. A young, blonde half-elf was brushing snow off of his arms.

"Master Mithos!" the bartender said. "What a pleasant surprise! Now you know, young man, I can't serve you a thing! You've got a ways to go until you can have a drink!"

Mithos smiled at the bartender and crawled up a stool, seating himself on it. "I know," he said sweetly. "But would you mind if I just sat here? I kinda got bored."

"Ah," said the bartender, winking at him. "Growin' up so fast, I see. Already bored with child-play? When I was your age, young master, I was playin' outside all the time. But, I guess with kids nowadays…" He trailed off.

"Mithos!"

Mithos looked down the bar to see a small crowd of people approaching him. He smirked.

"Mithos! How're you doing?"

It was a bunch of the young men in the village, all elves and all holding various drinks. They all looked very cheerful at the sight of the ten year-old boy, and why shouldn't they be? He had the prettiest sister in the entire village, they'd be fools not to be pleased with his presence, even if he was a kid. There was no better way, in their opinion, to get information about a girl than through her loved ones.

"I'm fine, thanks," Mithos said pleasantly. "And how about you guys?"

There was a great chorus of "wonderful!" and "great!" and "good! And you?".

"And, uh," one of the young men asked. "How's—"

"If you're inquiring after my sister," Mithos said with a smile. "She's doing well."

There was a general murmur of appreciation at this. Mithos could have sworn he even heard, "Great kid." His smile broadened.

"But," he said, looking away rather tragically, his smile disappearing. "I'm afraid to report that Martel is…well, something's happened."

"What?"

"What happened?"

"What's wrong?"

"You just said she was fine!"

"Yes, she is fine," Mithos said, then grinned, turning to the boys. "Just maybe a little…too fine."

The young men fell silent at this, staring disbelievingly at Mithos.

"You don't mean…"

"I do," Mithos said, airily, picking off a piece of invisible dirt from underneath one of his fingernails. "My dear sister is now very happy that she's found someone—"

"Wait," said one elf frantically. "What do you mean, 'found someone'?"

"She's settled happily, I believe," Mithos said. He allowed his smile to drop a couple of notches. "But…he doesn't deserve her."

"W-Who is it!" they demanded. Mithos sighed dramatically, covering his face with one hand.

"It's…Yuan."

"What? Yuan! Of all people…"

"This is terrible…Yuan!"

"Why Yuan? What does she see in Yuan!"

"I know," Mithos said miserably. "That stupid half-elf just doesn't know when to stop…I guess it's just bad breeding."

"Obviously!"

"He's always been a bad egg!"

"Yuan of all people…"

"I just…wish," Mithos said. "That he would be…taken out of the picture, or something." His eyes widened in astonishment at what he said and he covered his mouth with his hand. "Oh, no," he said. "I shouldn't have said that…how awful of me…"

"Don't be hard on yourself!" said one of the young men, clapping Mithos on the shoulder. "We all know what you mean."

"Yeah," another said. "Don't worry, we'll take care of him for you."

"R-Really?" Mithos said hopefully. "You would?"

"Of course! We have to protect Martel after all!"

"No creep like Yuan's going to get her!"

"We'll change that stupid half-elf's ways!"

And, with a great chorus of "Yeah!", the group of elves paid for their drinks and left.

A grin slowly spread itself across Mithos' face. It was all just too easy. Gullible fools. Step one was already in play.