Broken Wings
N.W. 4098
Eternal Swordsmen

The sanctuary had long since fallen into disrepair.

The markers had needed replaced within decades of Lloyd's last visit, but he couldn't be bothered, and so they'd weathered away and failed. The gardens were lost to untamed ivy and brush, though a few wildflowers still clung to life in the cold, a faint dusting of snow white-washing the whole scene.

The memorial, carved with protective runes that had lasted far longer than the markers, was still in the exact same shape as it had been nine hundred years ago, though the 'temple' around it had also fallen into ruin.

Lloyd himself was rather changed. Where once he'd worn red, now there was an absence of color. Black, gray, brown... Not even his wings were visible to add color to him.

He didn't know what kept him going anymore. Spite, perhaps? But he was so tired...

He knelt in front of the memorial and looked over the names, fingertips brushing over the words carved upon the stone, and sighed. "How many of you must think I'm a fool?" he whispered. "All this time, all this pain and suffering... and I still won't let go." Russet eyes caught on one name in particular, and he bowed his head, shame tugging at his heart.

"I'm sorry, Ratatosk. You entrusted the world to me, and I've spent the last eight hundred years doing nothing, after razing half the world a century prior... I suppose I should have gone to the tree to apologize to Dhaos, but that would have required going near Martel..." He stopped and sighed. "I'm sorry, Mithos. The spirit that bears your sister's face and name is no longer my sister. You probably would have found it so neat that we chose each other as family, but... I can't get her betrayal out of my head." He stopped, a sudden thought occurring to him, not something he'd considered prior to this.

"Colette... You killed yourself. Was it guilt? Did you tell Zelos before you died? Or was Kratos' suicide a secret you took with you to your grave?" He shook his head, eyes falling to one of the last names he'd engraved before he'd taken to wandering the world in a daze. "Corellia... I miss you, so much. I wish you were still with me, love. I could use your steady head right now, more than anything else..."

He sat there, pouring his heart out to a stone for the first time in nearly a millennium, for over three hours.

It was the mana that drew his attention away from the stone first.

Familiar mana, chaotic and powerful, and Lloyd knew it like he knew his own mana because he'd been connected to it for over three thousand years.

Origin. That was Origin's mana...

Except, then he realized just what it meant for that much of Origin's power to have been expended, and so far away from the spirit's slate.

Someone was coming, a swordsman. Origin had teleported the new Eternal Swordsman to where the third set of markers had once been.

Which meant either the world had gone to hell in a handbasket without him noticing, or the poor fool had been chucked back in time for one reason or another.

He could have left. Could have stood, exited the temple, taken to the air and been gone...

But, he wasn't so desperate to avoid contact that he would do so. And... a part of him wanted to meet the new swordsman. If only to try to warn him.

Whomever it was, he was in no great hurry. Armored boots crunched through snow and the brittle remains of plants at a steady, but slow pace. A pause at the entrance to the temple, and then he entered the ruined building.

When he came to a stop next to him, Lloyd wondered which of them would speak first. The newcomer, clearly sent by Origin, or him?

"Origin told me I'd find you here."

"I figured as much. I felt you land," he replied. "So... he sent his new champion to kill the old."

"What?"

Honest surprise, and hurt.

Lloyd looked up, dull russet eyes meeting stormy blue-gray.

Blonde, again, though more a dirty blonde than Mithos' golden blonde. Younger than Lloyd had been when his Cruxis Crystal had frozen him in time, but older than he'd been when he'd made the pact with Origin. A strangely familiar facial structure that he couldn't be bothered to place at the moment. Armor. A red headband and cape.

Lloyd looked away again. "After all this time... I suppose Origin's finally decided I'm a lost cause, then. About time. It's been nine hundred years since I nullified the pact." Not to mention some of the destruction he'd caused in that first century.

He'd been angry, so, so angry, and no longer in danger of using the Eternal Sword with the pact nullified, so he'd let himself go.

A large part of him had wanted to use and abuse as much mana as he could, draining it away from the Yggdrasill to kill the giant tree. Martel would die with it... but that would have been almost impossible without a mana cannon.

So he'd gone the other direction, and targeted magi-tech, wreaking a path of destruction across the world as he wiped it all out...

He hadn't bothered to track the body counts, but he knew they had been high.

And when the humans had sent their champions after him, he'd alternated between killing those tasked with ending him, and just fleeing, taking to the sky for months at a time to lose their trails.

But that had been centuries ago. And now... Now, Lloyd was just tired.

The swordsman was being suspiciously silent.

"Are you really going to tell me I'm wrong?" Lloyd asked.

"I'm a little too busy telling Origin he's wrong to be arguing with you right now," the blonde said, his voice an odd mix of annoyed and sorrowful.

"Oh? And what exactly is Origin wrong about this time?"

The man sighed. "You surprised him."

"I've done that a lot over the millennia. You'd think he'd be used to it by now."

"You realize you could have ended your life ages ago, right? Why are you still going?"

Lloyd frowned, and glanced up at the swordsman. "I don't know," he admitted. "At first, it was because I'd promised to protect the Yggdrasill as it grew... then because I didn't like watching everyone fighting, and wanted to put a stop to it. Then... because I was waiting for someone. And when I found out he'd died when I was in my sixties... spite kept me going." A sigh, and a shrug. "Now? Now I guess it's just too ingrained in me to survive."

"I see."

The silence fell again for a while, and Lloyd couldn't help the niggling curiosity beginning to get the better of him.

"What's your name?"

"Cress ?"

He didn't know why the kid was asking. There was no doubt Origin had told him.

"Lloyd," he replied anyway. He'd stopped going by 'Irving' among the humans not long after Dirk had died. And, by the time Colette had died, even the dwarves knew him as 'Aurion' instead.

But... Lloyd Aurion had been sane. Stable. And hadn't broken all of his vows yet.

He'd cast off the name 'Aurion' centuries ago. Kratos didn't deserve to have that sort of a legacy attached to his name.

It took him a moment to realize that Cress was walking away.

"I thought Origin sent you to kill me." The words poured from his mouth in a bit of a rush, surprise making him tense up.

Footsteps paused, and Lloyd had the feeling the man had turned to look back at him.

"He gave me an ultimatum. I'm not willing to kill you."

"You're going to regret that," Lloyd said darkly. Because if Origin had been willing to send Cress through time to find him, that meant he'd started to tip over into last resorts.

And that was never a good sign with the spirit of creation. There was always another option.

"Maybe. But I've come this far. Stopping now would be giving up."

The laugh that bubbled up out of his throat was harsh, and the sound would have startled Lloyd if he hadn't heard it before, the last couple of times someone had been sent to kill him and they'd started spouting nonsense about justice.

He'd always hated that word. That hadn't changed after four thousand years.

And the kid... "You sound just like me, when I was your age." Lloyd closed his eyes. "You'll change your mind in time."

He heard Cress take a deep breath, and let it out. "We'll see. Goodbye for now, Lloyd."

Five, ten, eighteen more steps, and then there was the oh-so-familiar presence once again before it faded. Lloyd didn't need to look back to know that Cress was gone.

He sighed and looked over the list of names on the stone again, eyes catching on Ratatosk one more time.

"I haven't retightened the seal yet for this millennium. I guess I should, shouldn't I? The world seems to be in good hands..." He stood slowly, brushing the snow and dirt off of his pants. "I'm tired. I think... I'm going to rest for a while, once I've tightened the seal."

Nine hundred years, Lloyd had gone without food or sleep. And while he could have kept going on like that for millennia, now that he bothered to feel, he could tell that it was wearing on him.

He followed the footsteps in the snow that led to where Origin had sent Cress back to his own point in time, and stood there for a long few moments.

"Idiot... You'll learn eventually. There's always a price."

Blue-green light flooded the area, turning the snow an eerie shade of blue, and Lloyd took to the sky for the first time in centuries. He'd need to fly to reach the Ginnungagap...

And...he'd forgotten how amazing it felt, to race through the skies with nothing but the air under his wings holding him up.