Lloyd jerked awake, panting. He had had a dream, and he tried to gather it together as he blinked at the weak light filtering through his curtains into his room. What was it…? His dad was there, and so was Colette, Raine, and Genis…or…no, there had been more people… Even as he tried to pull the memories of the dream toward him, they slipped away, like water dripping through cupped hands. He sighed and sat up, wondering what time it was.
"Lloyd!" Dirk bellowed from the base of the stairs to Lloyd's loft room. "Yer gonna be late again!"
Apparently it wasn't that early. He stumbled out of bed, the dream now thoroughly forgotten.
Ten minutes later, Lloyd and Noishe were jogging through Iselia forest at top speed, trying to get Lloyd to class on time, though it was already a lost cause. They rounded a corner and for a moment, Lloyd thought he saw two men standing side by side, watching him, but when he looked back, there was nothing.
Stupid, he didn't have time, he was going to be late!
…
Kvar pulled himself out of the wreckage of metal, broken parts, and bodies that his Ranch had once been. He was hurt badly, and on the verge of losing too much blood, but he was alive. His arm hurt, and he almost didn't dare to look at it, but there would be no way he could patch himself up if he didn't. The sharp piece of metal shrapnel was already stained red with his blood, and he was sure that the damned thing would be useless unless he hurried.
He moved his other arm into view for the first time and stared at the red, burned skin. A fireball from the explosion had hit the entirety of his right shoulder. Still, he could work with it. With a soft hiss, Kvar pulled the shrapnel from his arm and began bandaging it up with fabric scraps that he could grab from around him. The half-elf had never learned to heal—in fact, he despised the art, though he was beginning to rethink that thought process now.
Slowly, painfully, Kvar patched himself up. The focus and the pain were enough that he didn't notice that he had company until he was staring at the boy's white boots.
Looking up, the half-elves' eyes met, Kvar's narrowed red with the icy blue of his companion.
"Are you proud?" the newcomer asked. "Your kingdom collapsed around you."
Kvar scoffed, "Boy, I may not look it now, but I've friends in high places. This is not the end."
Those blue eyes narrowed, disgusted, and pale lips pulled into an ironic smile. "Oh? Friends? If there is one thing that I've learned, Lord Kvar, friends will betray you." He laughed, high-pitched and unhinged, and pulled out a sword.
It was simple, undecorated, cheaply made, but sharp. The child plunged it into Kvar's heart before the Grand Cardinal could react.
Pain was something Kvar could handle, it was something he was used to, it was something he flourished in. What Kvar fell into was not pain, it was nothingness.
Mithos pulled the blade from Kvar's chest and let his shoulders relax. It was over.