Broken Wings
N.W. 3203
The Last Journal of Kratos Aurion

Dhaos was a prince.

It had taken Lloyd almost three years to figure it out, but the little things had slowly begun to add up, and Lloyd had known enough royalty over his many centuries to be able to figure out what Dhaos wasn't telling him.

It seemed the both of them were trying to pretend that they weren't exactly what they were. Lloyd, while having told the whole, unaltered story of the Regeneration and the Ratatosk mess that had followed, had been selective in the tales he told of the millennia after. And Dhaos... It was clear that Dhaos feared he'd lose his new friend if he told Lloyd of his true status.

They were running out of time, but Lloyd wasn't worried. Though Dhaos would be much older, he'd pointed out that the child, being a half-elf, would live more than long enough to see the Passing twice more.

And four hundred years was a long time to search, quite unlike the three-year deadline they'd had forced on them now.

Lloyd had been sure to keep Dhaos centered in simply living, as well as making sure the boy understood he wasn't upset by the lack of answers, and they'd celebrated the teen's fifteenth birthday just a couple weeks ago...

But today... today was different, because the teen who appeared when the bridge opened was carrying a book... and bore the expression of one who knew they were bearing bad news.

Lloyd took a deep breath as he realized what it meant.

Kratos... was dead.

"Dhaos?" Lloyd prompted, bracing himself for whatever the boy had found.

The half-elf hung his head, and held out a worn book, opening it to a page near the back. It only took Lloyd a glance to recognize it as a journal... and a moment more to recognize his father's handwriting.

He could feel the mana coalescing around them, Martel or the spirit of the Derris-Kharlan tree helping to make illusion solid as Lloyd reached out to take the journal.

NE 57, Auradon 15 / AY 51, Ifrismon 17

I think the half-elves think me foolish for continuing to keep track of the Aselian days when the calendars are so different, but I believe Erebor's figured it out. He knows I left Lloyd behind.

It's his birthday, today. Sixty-eight years old. And now, I am faced with a dilemma.

Wait until the trees reenter the range needed for contact, and hope Yuan will still be waiting, or leave this world while Lloyd is (assuming he hasn't gotten himself killed doing something stupid) still alive?

I want to know how his life has gone. I want to see the world he rebuilt, the tree that I've no doubt thrives on Aselia. And yet...

No parent should have to outlive their child.

I can't decide. I've put it from my mind for so long, allowed our work here on Derris-Kharlan to distract me, but now things are settling, and Lloyd is nearing the age that his body will weaken and fade.

It's a decision I will have to make later, as Daphne seems to need me for something again.

NE 57, Maradon 26 / AY 51, Gnossemon 28

I will not return to Aselia. Yuan will understand, if he doesn't die before then. I'd forgotten, for a time, that he was inflicted with the elven curse of the stars. With Mithos gone, he has no means of stopping it from progressing.

I can only hope that, whatever afterlife exists, I can find Lloyd there someday.

Farewell, my son.

Another note, in vastly different handwriting, had been penned in on the next page, and Lloyd read it just as numbly as he'd read the last two entries his father had written.

It is done. Kratos Aurion lies beneath the great mana tree he has spent his decades upon Derris-Kharlan protecting.

I cannot shake the feeling that this is a grave mistake, but he would have removed his crystal regardless of my protests, had I made them. And still, something tells me that this journal will be found, and read... Perhaps not in my lifetime; I've seen so many centuries already, it will be a miracle if I live to see Derris-Kharlan and Aselia within mana range again. And so I beseech whomever finds it. See it returned to Lloyd Irving-Aurion on Aselia, so that he might speak to his father one last time before Kratos' Cruxis Crystal is destroyed. The worlds will pass each other just shy of every four hundred and fifty years. I've listed the years below.

My heart tells me that Lloyd will not die before he learns of his father's fate.

Lloyd flipped to the back cover, which he could feel was thicker than the front by a good margin, and stared in mild dismay at the Cruxis Crystal inlaid there, chipped and cracked as if someone had taken a hammer to it.

Dhaos reached forward, hesitated, and then flipped back a couple pages, revealing another note, in yet another distinct style of handwriting.

NE 897, Auradon 3

Given the events of the last few days, I suppose I ought to add my piece.

This journal was found while my crew and I were packing things up and preparing to tear down the old palace. The place isn't structurally sound anymore (no wonder, if it's lasted almost nine hundred years!), and it had to be done. The man who found it brought it to me, claiming that the spirit in the book was quite incensed. Seems it was his wish that the gem in the back cover was to be destroyed and buried with his body centuries ago.

I should have just destroyed the crystal and left it at that, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat. I read the whole thing, and then started seeking out the rest of the journals. This is history that our people cannot be allowed to forget. And it was in the third of the eight journals that I found the location of the great mana tree.

I had not realized it was so close... And upon re-reading the final note written by who I can only guess was Erebor, I realized that it was possible that contact might be made with Aselia.

Opening the bridge was not an easy feat, but Norn (bless her soul, that spirit, for she was the greatest help I could have asked for in this task) taught me how to do it, and we waited. Again and again we tried, for she was certain that Erebor was correct, and Lloyd was, indeed, still alive.

Or at least, had been at the last passing.

When the bridge was formed, it was not a brown-haired man who stood before me, but a girl of perhaps seventeen or eighteen years, with long hair of spun gold and crystal blue eyes.

She introduced herself as Colette Aurion. I recognized the name 'Colette,' and she matched the description Kratos gave of Colette Brunel... It seemed I'd found Lloyd's wife. Also present was Martel, guardian spirit of the Aselian tree, and to them, I presented the final journal and the Cruxis Crystal in its back cover.

I am not easily frightened, but the girl's reaction scared me.

"Destroy it! Destroy it now!" she had cried, so distraught at the sight of the crystal that Martel had needed to keep her from running to hold the connection open. And I had not the heart to refuse.

Martel gave me my orders, and though I told her I would follow through... I cannot bring myself to destroy the journals, and Norn agrees with me.

The Cruxis Crystal has been shattered, Kratos' soul released from its purgatory, and I will hide this journal and the rest of the set within the library of the new palace once it is built.

I'm sorry, Lloyd Aurion. I realize, in hindsight, that I should have demanded your presence before producing the journal. Truly, you deserved to know first-hand, and I can only hope your wife tells you soon.

Graham Derron

The journal began to slip from his fingers, and Dhaos caught it easily, even as Lloyd took a step back, shock and betrayal striking far too close to home.

Colette had known.

Martel had known. For millennia.

"I'm sorry. I was hoping it was wrong..." Dhaos said quietly. "I..."

Lloyd took a deep breath. "Thank you," he bit out. At the startled and somewhat hurt look on the teen's face, he shook his head. "I'm not angry at you. I'm sorry. I need to..."

Dhaos held the journal tight, nodded, and then faded from the surrounding area as he pulled his mana in, reclaiming it from the bridge and leaving Lloyd alone.

Except, this was the tree.

He was never alone here.

But the clearing was silent, save for the familiar sounds of the waves on the lake, and the rustling leaves that adorned the Yggdrasill's branches. And though Lloyd knew he was crying, he didn't care.

"Martel."

His voice sounded harsh, and he'd made no attempt to keep the anger out of it.

She stepped out of the Yggdrasill's trunk, head bowed.

"You lied to me."

"You asked if Kratos had tried to make contact. It wasn't a lie," she argued, though her body language said she knew it was a hollow excuse.

Lloyd held himself in place, clamping down on the rising urge to kill the woman before him.

"A lie of omission is still a lie!" he snapped. "You and Colette both! All these years, all of the guilt and frustration I've felt every time I've missed a passing! You let me believe there was still someone waiting for me on Derris-Kharlan! Did anyone even tell Kratos before his Cruxis Crystal was destroyed?!"

Green eyes closed. "No. Graham destroyed it before our eyes, within minutes of the connection being opened."

It took him a moment to realize that the choked sob had come from his throat.

Martel looked up finally, pain in her eyes. "Big brother..."

Lloyd's snarl wasn't even human, his wings forming and flaring behind him in a familiar display of aggression, and one that was normally more exaggerated than true... as this one was.

"Don't you dare call me that! You are no sister of mine!"

He was in the sky in seconds, wings spread wide and carrying him far above the point where a human would have died from how thin the air was.

Martel had spent the last twenty-four hundred years lying to him.

Colette had never once mentioned that she knew anything of Kratos' death... even reassuring him at one time that he'd have better luck at the twelve hundred year passing.

Lloyd let loose in the only way he dared. He'd worry about the repercussions later, when he was physically exhausted enough that taking a nap wouldn't leave him with more nightmares than rest.