This is the last in the Kvar-Chronicles.

Finally things are setting down for the summer, so I figured I'd squeeze this out before I was caught up in something else. You know, the life of a fan fiction author is so demanding. In the meantime, I'm going to mourn the loss of my new favorite character to write: Kvar.

But, without further ado, here's the chapter!

…

Lloyd dug through the pack that Kratos had dropped at his side, digging out several apple and orange gels. He bit into an orange gel and swallowed it, gagging slightly at the texture, which was both slimy and thick simultaneously. Then he grabbed the apple gel and did the same with it, but unlike the former, which he set aside, he pulled off his bloody red glove and dipped his fingers into the almost salve-like inside of the morsel and spread it over the bloody gash in his shoulder. He felt relief spread through the wound like cold water on a burn watched carefully for a moment as the bleeding subsided. As he proceeded to do the same to the rest of his burning wounds, he felt his head clear as the medicine worked and he forced himself to his feet next to his father.

Kratos looked beyond angry now, not that one could have told by any other portal than his eyes. Both were bright with fury, but the rest of his face was smooth and impassive. Lloyd watched his gloved hand wrap around the hilt of his sword and wished desperately for his own blades, but they were somewhere underfoot of the Desian troops around them.

"Are you strong enough," Kratos asked in a hissed whisper, "to guard me while I cast? Mass magic is our best bet, as I cannot take down this many by sword alone, and you are in no state to hold up for the fight."

Lloyd gulped as he looked around at what were surely several dozen half-elven soldiers, who all seemed to be waiting for some signal to attack. It was daunting simply because they had yet to attack, but what was worse was the glint of cold steel in the red alarm lights that had started soon after Kvar had vanished. Lloyd breathed an affirmative and balled his fists, knowing that he had all of a minute of strength in hand-to-hand combat. With luck, he would be able to take a sword and buy himself a few more minutes.

As if an invisible signal had been given, the first wave of Desian soldiers rushed toward them and Kratos began chanting at once as Lloyd slammed his elbow into the jaw of the first soldier to reach him. He toppled to the floor and Lloyd tugged the blade from his fingers, turning to the never-ending mass of men running at him. His sword cut messily through the shoulder of the next man, slicing bluntly through leather armor. He kicked him back, sending him stumbling away and tripping the unlucky soldiers behind him as he went.

Lloyd spun to lash out at one soldier who had attempted to kill Kratos while Lloyd has been distracted elsewhere and the brute strength of the swing cut through armor into flesh and stomach with a disgusting squelching sound and he tumbled to the ground. From behind, Lloyd heard his father muttering very softly, but Lloyd managed to catch the words in between the howls of the Desians falling before him. "Sacred Powers…" Kratos practically mouthed, "cast thy purifying lights upon these corrupt souls…"

His father was casting Judgment. Lloyd wondered at the choice; it was a slow spell, but by far more massively powerful than Thunder Blade or Grave. Yet at the same time, if Lloyd asked, he could completely blow his father's cover. His ponderings were forced to cease for a moment as he slipped around Kratos to cut into the neck of another man who had attempted to take down the casting Seraph. Glancing at his father's face as he ruthlessly rammed his sword into the head of the next Desian approaching, Lloyd saw the emotions that Kratos had refused to show when he had control flickering across his face.

The spell stealing his focus and weakening his defenses, the weight of what Kratos was doing finally showed in his features. He was afraid: afraid for Lloyd's life, afraid of the decision he was making to save his son. This could easily have reminded Kratos of the night in front of the Iselia Human Ranch, when his wife had died and he had lost his son and oldest friend. And perhaps there was just a hint of fear for his own life. So Kratos stood and cast his spell, but when his eyes opened, every bit of emotion but the fury he felt toward his enemies was wiped from his features.

Pillars of light fell upon their Desian attackers, the bodies disintegrating, leaving nothing behind. Lloyd lost his vision in the blinding white lights and could only blink as the afterimages burned over the sights of the few remaining Desians racing away into the warp pads.

Father and son were left standing in the center of a blood-stained room, and even Kratos was panting at the force he had put behind the spell. Lloyd felt the sword clatter to the ground at his side as he slumped to his knees on the ground. His mind spun for a few moments as the light that blinded him began to subside. He realized his father was no longer beside him and, picking the short-sword he had stolen from a Desian soldier to use as a crutch, he hoisted himself up and when to where Kratos was standing over the injured Sheena's bed.

"…you knew he had her." It was a statement and Lloyd stiffened, despite all the pain it sent through his numbed body. "…may I ask how?" Now that the threat was gone, it seemed that even the efficient Kratos was going to act slowly.

Lloyd stuttered, not sure how to answer. The image of the note drawing water and slipping away into the lake under Luin flashed before his eyes. "I…there was a note. In Luin. Kvar…he wanted me here and used her as bait."

"Then," Kratos said softly, "the question changes to what he wanted and how he knew that you would come after the assassin. Simply because of her profession he couldn't have assumed the two of you were in any way companions. It makes me wonder at the idea of his having been watching us…" His father's musings neither gave hint at if they would continue to try to help Sheena or he suspected Lloyd of anything.

"…can I use a gel on her?" Lloyd questioned softly, glancing back across the room where Kratos' pack was half-trampled, but still whole. "I don't know how long she'll last like this…"

Contempt flitted across Kratos' face, and then it returned to impassiveness. "I doubt you'll have thought it a good idea when she attempts to kill us a second time." His words were scornful now and Lloyd opened and closed his mouth, fish-like, for a moment before half shouting at his father.

"You mean after all this we're just gonna leave her here! If we do that, she'll end up just like Mom! Are you insane?" Lloyd instantly regretting mentioning his mother, as Kratos almost visibly flinched, but his eyes hardened against Lloyd.

"After everything she has done, she deserves it."

"I'm not gonna let her die!" Lloyd was furious, both at himself and at his father. He had come this far, he was not going to leave Sheena now, but he knew that shouting was no way to dissuade Kratos. The man was already convinced he was suffering from his injuries; the idea of wanting to save Sheena was, to his eyes, simply a delusion caused by blood loss.

Kratos' eyes were dark and had slipped back to their unreadable state as he surveyed his son. Lloyd could not be sure, but he thought he could sense his father's displeasure with his insistence to save Sheena. "This," Kratos almost sighed, "is neither the time nor place to be having this debate. More Desians could return soon, and it is not my job to rescue foolish assassins, but my companions. If you intend to save her, than by all means do. However, you can hardly expect me to help you. My hands will be full enough with getting the Chosen out safely, and I will not hesitate to end her life if she threatens any of our party."

"Fine!" Lloyd snapped angrily. "I'll carry her myself!"

Sheena was heavier than Lloyd had expected her to be and as he hoisted her off the table, he felt himself stumble, but caught his balance at the last minute and moved Sheena into a better place in his arms. Kratos watched wordlessly, his eyes following every weak misstep Lloyd took with the same unreadable expression written across his visage. Sheena groaned in pain in Lloyd's arms, but there was little the angel could do, as his own vision was beginning to swim.

He stumbled across the room, or so it felt to him as, in reality, he made it only a few steps before his knees buckled underneath him and Lloyd sunk into oblivion. Every part of him screamed against it and he felt Sheena's weight land atop him, only adding to the dull nothing that he was falling through. Lloyd slipped away.

…

Groaning, Lloyd opened his eyes to find himself lying on the floor in a cold hall, lined with simple metal, and Raine bending over him muttering, "He should be alright, Colette, calm down. He's only passed out from the blood loss. I'm more concerned about Sheena, honestly, for all the trouble Lloyd went through, I doubt she'll make it…" Raine's voice was carefully calm, as if she was not saying all that she knew for the sake of protecting Colette and Genis from a darker truth.

"Then," croaked Lloyd as he tried to sit up, "heal her, please…" His attempts to sit were met with resistance by Raine, who put both her hands on his chest and forced him to lie back down. "Raine…" he grumbled, but listened. His head had begun to spin again as soon as he'd moved, so laying, even on this painful, hard surface, sounded wonderful.

"Lloyd, it's more complicated than that…" Raine sounded rather angry at having to explain herself. "She's been…well, tortured. When she wakes—if at all—who knows the kind of mental trauma she could have."

"You'd want us to try and help you, right? We can't just let her die; especially if there's even a little chance she'll make it out." He forced more confidence into his voice than he felt he hand into any other speech he had made. If they lost Sheena, there was no way the Journey could continue. "Please, Raine…"

"…I agree with Lloyd. We both decided to risk our lives to keep her from Kvar, we may as well waste more time and effort on her now that we've come this far." Despite harsh words, there was no doubt in Lloyd's mind that it was Kratos who had carried both he and Sheena from Kvar's torture chamber. He had as much invested in this as Lloyd did, and was not about to let her die now.

"I can see that I've no other choice," Raine said softly and turned to examine Sheena's body again. In the frigid white light of the Ranch's hall, she looked even worse. Pale from blood loss, deep red welts, burns, and open wounds laced down her face and over her arms, all making Lloyd cringe. A large chunk of raven-black hair had been cut away, though for what purpose Lloyd was uncertain, and the rest of her hair was matted with dirt and blood. One eye was swelled and black and her dry lips were split.

"Internal bleeding," Raine was murmuring now, "outer lacerations, most likely malnourished, heavy trauma to her head, at least four broken bones and I think her knee has been shattered…" With each added symptom, Lloyd's heart sank deeper toward his boots. Raine had no unicorn horn, no book of healing arts. In all likelihood, this was a cause beyond lost, and he was simply asking Raine to waste her mana, but he couldn't give up hope.

Colette, Genis, and Lloyd were all holding their breath, watching Raine run her staff over Sheena's unmoving form. It was fantastic to watch the lacerations heal instantly. Lloyd had always been too squeamish to watch his own healing, but now he couldn't keep his eyes off Sheena. The cuts slowly covered in scab and scar, the skin pinching together and healing. The quick healing alternative that Raine used had consequences, though. These scars would have to heal in their own time, if they healed at all, and Sheena's scars were not little pink lines, but deep gorges across her pale skin.

Pulling back, Raine gently tugged at Sheena's leg, trying to set the knee into place. "Kratos," she said quietly, yet her voice echoed around them in the silence, "hold her leg so it heals properly, please." The mercenary knelt beside Sheena and Raine and with surprisingly gentle hands bent her leg. Lloyd flinched when the ninja gasped in pain, but Kratos' hands were steady. Raine held her staff aloft and it glowed a cold silver light and, with Sheena still gasping and moaning in pain, Lloyd watched the bone heal. Kratos released her leg and it slid back into a more comfortable position, whole again.

"Now her ribs, I need to heal them as well before we try to move her again and they do more damage. I'm afraid to say that you should have left her where she was, if they have punctured her lungs, there's nothing more I can do for her." Kratos once again held Sheena straight as Raine held her staff and repeated the healing process. As she did so, the assassin's breath became less labored and she slumped deeper into her pained stupor.

"…what about the blood loss and stuff?" Lloyd asked, his voice shaking slightly. "Can we give her a gel or something?" He pushed himself up again, into a sitting position. His wounds stung and his body objected, but his head was clearer now and he blinked away the pain.

"If you want her to choke to death, then I would suggest doing as much. No, Lloyd, we'll have to see if she wakes up in order to feed her. In the meantime, we have to find the rest of the prisoners and get out of here before the Desians have time to regroup. We've been here for too long, we have to keep moving."

"Perhaps we should leave without the prisoners," Kratos suggested softly, "and return later, once we're healed. Perhaps we could pull together men from Asgard to assist us as well."

"We can't do that," Lloyd said too loudly, his voice bouncing off the walls and meshing together in his ears. "We leave now and we're not getting back in. If Kvar doesn't outright triple the security, he'll execute the prisoners and we won't have another chance. Knowing him, he's already starting the execution. We have finish this now." He had no hope of getting to Kvar again so soon. He had to hone his skills, prepare himself for what was to come, but he wouldn't let the people of Luin suffer any longer because he was too weak. It was time to deal the biggest blow that Lloyd could manage.

Raine looked ready to argue, as did Kratos, but neither opened their mouths as Lloyd forced himself to his feet. Despite the feeling that he was going to collapse, Lloyd stayed standing without the use of the wall for support. "Kratos, I'll carry Sheena and bring up the rear, you take point. We must have been half-way through the Ranch already, the prisoners can't be far away, the building isn't that big." With every passing moment, Lloyd felt himself rejuvenating. Perhaps it was Raine's healing mana, perhaps it was the gels, or perhaps is was simply force of will, but Lloyd scooped Sheena up into his arms and stepped aside so that Kratos could move to the front of the group.

They moved faster than Lloyd could have hoped. With Kratos leading, not only could no Desian hope to pass him, but Lloyd's father was subtly leading them in the correct direction. He sometimes took the longer route so as to properly confuse Raine, but at his direction, they reached the prison where the humans were kept. It was the smell that tipped Lloyd off before the sight; rancid and putrid, it was death personified. The perfume of Hell itself, laced with death and sickness. Lloyd choked, wishing he could stoop to retch, but with Sheena in his arms, he swallowed and held his breath.

Chains linked to large, vicious slave collars around their necks chained the prisoners together. Each was dressed in gray rags and all faces were cast downward. Looking around, Lloyd almost didn't want to ask what they had been put through that could have crushed them in so little time. Then, Lloyd noticed what he had not at first seen. There were no children among them. His heart leapt to his throat, choking him.

They're in a different room, different cells… he tried to tell himself, but the faces of the prisoners told him how wrong he was.

Suddenly, a voice echoed over the intercom system. "Well," Kvar's crisp voice sent shivers of fear down his spine, but Lloyd was not the only one. Many of the prisoners dropped to their knees and some even screamed in terror. "It seems that you've won. Making it all the way here with all limbs intact deserves a reward I think. You may take the lovely citizens of Luin and leave my Ranch unhindered. Oh, please don't thank me, really, I do it for the good of humankind." The intercom died and Lloyd was left shaking, staring up into nothing, wishing he could understand what Kvar wanted. They could leave. They could take the prisoners. They had won. But why would he let them go? What had he to gain?

"…come on, everyone!" Colette broke the thick silence that had enveloped the crowd. "He's going to let you go! We'll take you back to Luin!" She was so bizarrely cheerful, but that must have been what was needed.

Not a single prisoner moved. Some looked up with dead eyes, but most stayed slumped. Colette's smile began to falter, but she tried again. "Please, come with us! Come rebuild your city! Live you lives!" Her fists clenched, Colette took a step forward.

Finally, a dark-eyed man raised his head and glared at Colette. "You don't understand. There's nothing left. They took our children. They slaughtered them. We couldn't protect our own; what have we left in the outside world?"

"Then bring back Luin in their memory!" Colette cried passionately. "Don't give up hope! When I—when the Chosen Regenerates the world, the Desians will go away and you'll be free to live your lives, don't give up now! Live!"

"The Chosen's dead…" whispered a voice from the back. "We heard the Desians talking. She died in the attack on Palmacosta…"

"T-that's not true!" Without, or so it seemed, stopping to think, Colette's wings burst forth from her back, sending shining pink light over the dirty, fallen faces. "I'm the Chosen, and I'm not going to let you give up on yourselves!"

A whisper stirred the crowds and several more looked up, then moved to shield their eyes from the sudden brightness in their dank hole. Murmurs of "an angel" were echoed amongst them. Finally, a young woman stepped forward. "…you're right, Chosen One." She tried to walk over to where the group stood, but was hindered by the collar and chains. Those around her didn't move with her.

Then, hesitantly, more moved, and soon they were the majority, pulling the others forward.

…

Did I just…end on a bright note? Well, I suppose I've got to do it sometime.

R&R

~Yoshi