An incessant chirping in the distance woke Kratos up. Disgusted with the bird's irritating song, he rolled over in the bed, hoping to escape the noise. He rolled too far, however, and soon, his body landed in a heap on the floor, entwined with thin blankets and pillows.
He groaned miserably, holding his hand against his aching head, which had slammed into the wooden floor. He coddled the wound briefly, clenching his teeth against the pain. Pain? Yes, it was definitely pain. He had experienced the sensation only trivially since he had undergone the angel transformation, but he remembered it from those four thousand years ago, when he had still been human and had frequently found himself on the receiving end.
That he currently felt pain…was odd, to say the least. An angel such as himself should not feel actual pain, except under extreme circumstances. And yet, here he found himself, cradling a minor headache as he attempted to untangle himself from the linen.
As he was, he could not see anything through the off-white sheets that surrounded him, and he thrashed at them, pulling them from his face. After accomplishing the simple task, he noticed that he was in a room completely unfamiliar to him. It was small and wooden, with plants scattered across the room, the vines growing wildly against the paneling and, across the room, out of an opening in the wall that served as a window. A small breeze blew through it, rustling the leaves on the vines and creating a pleasant aroma. Such an earthen scent could only be brought about by the dwarves, Kratos reasoned, and he only knew of one dwarf that lived above the surface.
But why was he in Dirk's house? It was illogical for him to simply wake up here; he had not been even near the Iselia region, according to his last memories. He had, instead, been at the Tower of Salvation. But that earthquake…
If even his son could recognize the peculiarity of that quake, then it was certainly something worth noting. It had presented compelling strength, which had forced even the physically strongest among the group to take a knee, and it had sapped his and the others' strength through a powerful, supernatural force. He had fallen victim to its force through no will of his own, and he remembered all too well the roar of the tremors that had deafened him and the shaking which had left his vision swimming in darkness. No typical earthquake would cause such a strange reaction, and none would last longer than his angelic strength would keep himself awake. It had been an unnatural essence, which had pulled him down and left him weak and barely cognizant, fighting feebly to retain himself even as he felt himself slipping, leaving his own mind. It had been an unsettling sensation, the likes of which he had never felt before. And as the last of his resilience left him, he had fallen unconscious amidst the tremors.
That had been his final memory before waking in the home of Lloyd's adoptive father. Pondering the strange situation he was in, Kratos untangled himself from the sheets and placed them back on the bed. Pulling his hands out of the mass of white cotton, he noticed that the hands did not look like his own, and he frowned. "What…?" he murmured to himself, and his eyes widened when he heard the striking difference between what he had expected to sound like and what he actually heard. The voice that had come out of his mouth sounded youthful and devoid of experience, so much different from the time-hardened sound he had grown accustomed to through his many years of life.
This voice…he knew it. He knew it so painfully well, but he was disbelieving. No power in the worlds could do something like this. Nothing could bend reality and perform such mystical and illogical feats.
The answer he was seeking hit him, winding him as if he had just been training for hours on end. Still kneeling against the bed, he held onto the wooden posts for support. There was exactly one power in the world which could do just that, and he had personal experience with it. He had been its seal, its guardian, for thousands of years. Origin, and the Eternal Sword.
Lloyd.
Lloyd was the wielder of the Eternal Sword. He must have done something to cause this. The Eternal Sword would do anything in its power to grant its wielder's wishes, but the knowledge of that gave rise to too many questions about Lloyd's desires. Something must have gone wrong in the way that Lloyd conveyed his command to the sword, or perhaps Origin misinterpreted the request. It was the only way something like this could have happened. Only Origin could perform a feat as fantastic as this. And as it was, until he could find a Rheaird and make his way back to the Torrent Forest, or find the Eternal Sword along his way, there was nothing he could do about his situation.
"Lloyd! You're going to be late again!" The muffled, gruff voice of Dirk floated upwards until the words hit Kratos, and he shot up, startled. What was he going to be late for?
"Uh, I'm coming!" Kratos called back, hurrying to stand and look for products with which he could freshen himself up. He was impelled, for an unknown reason, to act as if everything were normal, as if he were not a four thousand-year-old man encased within the appearance of a seventeen-year-old boy.
There was a wad of clothing on the other side of the room, draped unceremoniously over bright red boots. There appeared to be no indication of a closet or armoire in Lloyd's home, and so Kratos walked toward the bundle. It was unsettling to see everything around him at such a low angle, and he felt severely off-balance. His movements felt to him sluggish and his eyesight poor, and he felt nearly deaf at what he found he could no longer hear, even when straining. What a strange phenomenon, to be human once again.
"What a strange phenomenon," Kratos muttered under his breath, wrinkling his nose at the tenor voice that now belonged to him, "to become your own son."
Kratos hurriedly pulled on the ostentatious jacket that Lloyd insisted on wearing, and as he buttoned the garment, he wondered just why there were so many buttons that seemingly had no purpose. The pants that Kratos had woken up in were the very pants that Lloyd wore on a regular basis, leading him to believe his son didn't actually have a proper wardrobe. Nonetheless, he tucked the wrinkled pants into Lloyd's heavy red boots and attached the crude brown suspenders to the waistband. He realized now just how large the pants were, as they kept slipping down his hips. Kratos questioned why Lloyd didn't just obtain pants that fit him, but he shrugged off the question, knowing he might never get an answer for it.
His son's spiky hair seemed to have been in place since the moment he woke up, but Kratos ran his fingers through it, hoping to create a perfect resemblance of the hairstyle. It was difficult, however, seeing as he did not have a mirror through which he could gauge his accuracy.
Deciding his attempts as close to perfection as he could manage, he took a deep breath and made his way to the staircase on the far side of the room. Dirk was downstairs; that much he knew. Kratos had never been comfortable around the dwarf that had raised his son, as it always resurfaced his carefully masked regret. But he had to face Dirk if he wanted to return to his own body. And, Kratos admitted only to himself, he was feeling quite hungry. He took in another breath, and this time, he smelled a delicious meal waiting for him on the floor below. Groaning almost inaudibly at the empty feeling in his stomach and the tempting food awaiting him, he forced his feelings for the dwarf down and started down the creaky stairs, his mouth watering more and more as he neared the table.
"Took you long enough," Dirk snorted, not turning to face Kratos. He was at the base of the staircase, crafting something over his stove. "Your food's going to get cold."
To Kratos's gurgling stomach, the thought of a cold breakfast seemed to be the worst thing imaginable, and so he hurried down the remaining steps and sat down on a stool. The plate in front of him was piled high in various meats and grains, and Kratos did not think twice about grabbing a roll of bread and shoving it into his mouth. The taste was heavenly, and he savored the flavor as he chewed. The sense of taste was certainly something he had missed about humanity, and he thanked whatever force that had put him in this situation, forgetting briefly the circumstances around it.
"You'd best be hurrying." Dirk's thick accent cut through Kratos's stupor. "You'll have to ride Noishe to town again if you keep eating so slowly."
"To town?" Kratos asked through bites of the unlabeled meat. It tasted familiar, but four thousand years had worn down his memory of the flavor.
"It's the day of the oracle, son," Dirk reminded him, finally turning around to face who he thought to be his adopted son. "Don't tell me you forgot?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly exasperated that his alleged son would have forgotten such an important day.
The day of the oracle? If that were true, then…then the Eternal Sword's power was truly great. To send a large number of people through time, all because of miscommunication, was an impressive feat. Kratos quickly swallowed the large amount of food in his mouth and stared at Dirk, trying to think of a response that his outspoken son would say to his adoptive father.
"I didn't forget," Kratos started, the lie flowing from his mouth as naturally as he took a breath in. "I was just wondering why I had to leave so early."
"We don't know when the oracle will arrive, so it's best to get to town as soon as possible," Dirk explained. "You wanted to see it, didn't you?"
"Uh, yeah, I did say that," Kratos responded gracelessly. "Then, I should be off." Kratos stood from the table and started toward the door. To act as someone else under the scrutiny of the person who knew Lloyd more than anyone was difficult, and Kratos did not want to give rise to any suspicion until he could rectify the situation he was in. "Goodbye, Dad!" The words were awkward and forced, and the sound of Lloyd's voice saying those words to Dirk pierced Kratos more than anyone else knew, but he was compelled to say them, if only to seem as natural as possible.
As Kratos closed the door behind him, he wondered if the others who had been caught in the earthquake had been affected in a similar way. It was only logical, considering that if he were in the place of Lloyd, then his son, at the very least, had to have taken his place.
Immediately disgusted by the very thought, Kratos shoved from his mind the idea of Lloyd inhabiting his body. He instead focused on getting through the forest without having to fight any monsters. While he didn't doubt his skills with a sword, the human body was simply not as strong or fast as one lacking a Cruxis Crystal, even if Lloyd possessed Anna's Exsphere. And furthermore, the swords he had attached on his hips were merely wooden, and Kratos doubted he could do any serious damage to any threat he came across.
Lloyd had told him, when he had been traveling under the guise of a mercenary, that he fought with two swords so that he could do twice as much damage, citing a simple math equation as evidence. Resting a hand on the hand of one of the twin swords, Kratos mimicked the heavy sigh with which he had responded to Lloyd so long ago.
It was not certain if Regal had ever woken up, or if he had even been unconscious beforehand. But he suddenly became aware of a completely different reality around him, which varied incredibly from the forest clearing in which he had been what seemed only moments before. In the place of wood and grass, dirt and rock, four walls surrounded him that were made entirely out of a metal unknown to him. A faint buzzing sound came from all directions, humming through the walls and into the enclosed space. The room, itself, was furnished with a simple, neatly made bed, dressed in impeccable white sheets and topped with a single pillow. A metal table sat next to the bed, and resting on top of it was a tiny drawing of a woman he had never seen. The largest object in the room was the armoire on the opposite end of what Regal had deciphered to be a bedroom. Other than the three objects, the room was barren. Regal scanned the room, looking for a doorway of some sort. The room had more detail than he had ever seen before, and he thought it strange that such a simple room would be so detailed. The threads on the sheets were as clearly visible as the light scratches, no more than hair's width, lining the armoire. Perhaps, Regal thought, he was simply imagining the immense detail that he suddenly found easily discernible. Unless he were close to the objects, there would be no way to see such fine detail.
Choosing to focus instead on leaving the room so that he may explore his surroundings, Regal turned to where he thought he saw a door. A thick mass of hair fell into his face, covering his left eye, and he was taken aback when he realized that the hair was not the cerulean he was used to, but rather a deep auburn.
He pushed the hair aside, but it fell back into his eyes. Sighing, Regal parted the hair enough that he could see through it, and then he continued to the door, hoping that the answers to all of the many questions he had lay on the other side of the wall. Approaching the metal, it recoiled into the wall with a swoosh and created an entryway for him. The world outside, unfortunately, was more concerning than the tiny metal bedroom had been.
A large dome covered the building, allowing into the large, open room the dim, magenta light produced by Derris-Kharlan. Angels hovered in varying heights off of the pristine, metal flooring that matched the room in which he had found himself initially. Regal heard every flap of the massive wings, a chorus loud enough to make him wince. It was peculiar, he thought. When he had last been in Welgaia, he had only been able to hear the wings that had been close to his companions and him. But now the noise sounded thunderous, and Regal decided that he did not like that.
"Lord Kratos," a monotonous voice sounded from behind him. It was the lifeless and dull speech only an angel could have. Regal spun around to see the angel, and he found the blank-faced being staring directly at him, eyes clouded over and wings flapping lazily behind him.
"I am not…" Regal started, but the sound that came out of his mouth told him otherwise. He opted to stay silent.
"Lord Yggdrasill requests your presence," the angel continued, as if Regal had not spoken. Without pausing, the lifeless being turned and floated away. Regal, not wishing to test the strange situation, followed behind.
The angel stopped at the warp pad that led to Vinheim, and Regal took that as his cue to go through it. The warp stretched his body as if it were a jelly, but soon, he was solid and whole once again, standing in Yggdrasill's castle.
The villain, himself, was seated on a throne in front of him, and upon seeing Regal, his lips curled into a pleased smile that seemed out of place on his visage. "Kratos," Yggdrasill called in an authoritative voice fit for a king.
Regal remained silent, hoping that he could leave with no repercussions.
"It is the day of the oracle, Kratos," Yggdrasill continued, and Regal eyed the angel curiously. "You know what you must do. Bring the Chosen to me; do not let her fail. We cannot risk losing such a valuable vessel." His eyes darted to Regal and narrowed. Regal felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny, but he dared not act on the feeling. "Protect her, and when she breaks all of the seals, our goals will finally be realized."
The long trek through the Iselia Forest came to a close as the trees finally began thinning, allowing Kratos to see the tiny village just on the horizon. Hurrying to reach the town limits and to find Lloyd's friends, he broke into a sprint, and he found his son's speed disappointing at best. By the time he reached the village, he was panting, and he had to pause to catch his breath. Had humanity always been so weak?
Kratos quickly recovered and forced himself to breathe evenly. Nodding politely to the guards that watched over the village, he continued into town, toward the Chosen's home. It was the only building in Iselia with which he was comfortably familiar.
He knocked on the door and waited patiently for an answer. Through the thin walls of the Chosen's home, there came the sound of footsteps hurriedly walking toward the door, and soon enough, Frank opened the door just a moment later. The man was taller than Kratos remembered, but he assumed it was largely due to the five inches he, himself, had lost over night.
His confusion was evident in the way he immediately cocked his head to the side. "Lloyd? Why are you here?" the man asked, and Kratos scrambled to come up with a decent response.
"I was hoping to walk Colette to school," he lied smoothly, and Frank nodded.
"I'm afraid Colette has already left," Frank replied, pursing his lips. "She was in a hurry this morning. I believe she went to Genis's house."
"Very well," Kratos conceded, "Thank you." He turned to leave, and he heard the scrappy wooden door scrape closed behind him.
Had he ever been to the Sages' home? As he left the Chosen's doorstep, he tried to pinpoint where, exactly, the two half-elves lived inside the village. He didn't dare ask directions; Lloyd would have known where his best friend lived. He wandered around the town until he heard a group of children walking toward the schoolhouse.
He had been too late to find Lloyd's companions before the school day started, but perhaps, he could discuss the current events with them at school. He followed behind the children, trying to force a smile whenever one of the younger kids greeted him. It had been years since he had interacted with a child other than Genis, and he found it more difficult than he remembered. Fortunately, he and the other children had reached the school, and as Kratos made his way through the threshold, he scanned the small crowd for the Chosen and her companions.
Surely enough, the three who appeared to be Raine, Genis, and the Chosen were all huddled near the front of the room, discussing something in hushed voices that Kratos knew he would have heard if he were still an angel. Dismissing eavesdropping as an option, Kratos made his way to the group. They heard him approaching and looked up, and Kratos noticed poorly masked concern in their eyes. It seemed that they, too, had been affected by the Eternal Sword's power.
"…Lloyd?" asked the voice of the younger half-elf. Kratos merely shook his head and moved closer to them so that he could partake in their conversation.
"I believe I know what has happened," whispered Kratos, and the others collectively breathed a sigh of relief. "It must be the power of the Eternal Sword. There is nothing else with such an ability to warp reality."
"You're saying Lloyd did it?" The incredulous tone sounded off-beat coming from Raine's mouth, but Kratos reminded himself that it was not, in fact, Raine whom had said it.
"For all intents and purposes, yes, I am," Kratos responded simply. "Now, shall we make our second introductions? I was not present for the majority of your conversation."
The younger half-elf sighed, gesturing toward them in turn. "I'm Raine. That's Genis," she explained, pointing at the body of the elder half-elf, and then she motioned toward the small body of the Chosen, sighing deeply at whatever misfortune Kratos would soon have the displeasure of knowing. "That…is Zelos."
Kratos eyed the man in question, and he could hardly imagine that the soul of Tethe'alla's somewhat questionable Chosen lay under the long blonde hair and blue eyes, the tiny frame clothed in priestess's robes, and the cherubic face that resembled Martel's so closely it had transported Kratos four thousand years into the past upon seeing it for the first time.
"You'd better not try anything funny," Genis warned, leaning down so as to meet Zelos eye-to-eye. "If you do anything to Colette's body, I'll burn you to a crisp!"
Zelos merely rolled his eyes and planted a cocky smile on his face, an expression that looked so completely bizarre on Colette's face that Kratos found himself blinking disbelievingly. "Don't worry!" he insisted, waving his hand nonchalantly. "I'll return the little angel's body in pristine condition, I promise!" For some reason, Kratos was doubtful.
"Yeah, sure," Genis said, turning away from Zelos.
"Don't ignore me!" Zelos demanded, placing his hands on the Chosen's hips.
"Keep your voice down!" Kratos warned. The students paid no attention to their conversation, but soon, they would begin to settle down for the day, and they would certainly notice the discussion at the front of the room.
Zelos huffed and turned to face Kratos with a non-threatening glare. "Well, mister know-it-all, why don't you tell us who you really are? It's gotta be good."
Kratos couldn't resist the urge to fidget under the scrutiny of the others. Glancing to the side, he mumbled his name as quietly as he could manage.
"What was that?" Genis pressed, suddenly interested in what misfortune had befallen him.
"Kratos," he responded louder, refusing to meet their gazes. There was a moment of silence, and then there was a single whoop of laughter.
"Oh, man!" Zelos cried, clutching his stomach as high-pitched, riotous laughter rang through Kratos's ears. For the first time since he'd become human, he was grateful that he did not have angelic hearing. "You're Kratos? That's even funnier than the brat turning into a woman!"
"Hey!" Genis interjected, but his amusement at Kratos's circumstances caused his irritation to fade away, dissolving into his own girlish snickers.
Kratos glared down at Tethe'alla's former Chosen, but he knew that the expression did not hold as much power behind it as it had when he had rightfully looked like himself. "There is nothing funny about the situation we are in," Kratos seethed, but neither Zelos nor Genis ceased in their laughter. Even Raine was chuckling, and when Kratos turned to glare at her, she coughed into her hand to mask it.
"Oh, come on, Kratos," Genis said, trying desperately to stop laughing. "You have seriously bad luck if you ended up in Lloyd's body!"
"This entire scenario is laced with misfortune," Kratos agreed, but his scowl remained firmly in place on his features. "Now, will you children control yourselves so that we may figure out a plan to obtain the Eternal Sword and return everything to normal?"
"Uh, Kratos," Genis said, his face scrunching up in pleasure, which looked quite odd on Raine's face, "you're not exactly an adult anymore." He no longer tried to cover up the enjoyment he got from this, and he freely snickered along with the other two.
Kratos glowered at Genis, unamused at the entire scene. "I have four thousand years more experience than any of you do, combined. Let us cease this crude mockery, and we will be able to return to our true forms soon."
"You really are a crotchety old man, aren't you?" Zelos remarked, rolling his eyes. "Doesn't even matter that you look like my bud."
"You know," Genis stated, eyebrows raised, "you saying all of this in Colette's voice is really weird."
"The two of you are very different," Raine mused. "I agree that the disparity between you and Colette is very unsettling."
It was true, Kratos thought. Though Kratos did not know much of Tethe'alla's Chosen, his boisterous personality spoke for itself, even to those who had only just met him. "Nonetheless, we must continue in our current state until we are able to return to our own bodies. It would be wise to fix our problems as soon as possible."
"I concur," Raine said, huffing a little, "I'm not eager to experience puberty yet again." There was a short silence, after which Zelos snickered under his breath and Genis gaped in horror. Raine merely rolled her eyes at the two, and Kratos chose to ignore them. "Kratos, what do you propose we do?"
"We will need to acquire the Eternal Sword as quickly as we can," Kratos explained, calculating the plan as he spoke. "However, our summoner is not present and will likely be untrained in summoning. If your entire party has been affected by Origin's power, as I would suspect, then we will need to find the real Sheena and have her teach whoever has inherited her power."
"That sounds like a long process," Genis complained, jumping into the conversation.
"And what are we supposed to do about this whole back-in-time thing?" Zelos argued. "If we're actually back in time, then what about all that saving the world crap we just went through?"
"We might need to do it again," Raine admitted. "We know the outcome of our efforts, so if we cannot return the world to normal with the Eternal Sword, then we must retrace our steps and complete the worlds' regeneration on our own, once again."
"Whoa, whoa," Zelos interrupted, suddenly serious. "Are you telling us that I might have to go on the Journey of Regeneration?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Kratos confessed before turning back to Raine, unnerved that he was discussing how to save the world with a seemingly young boy. "I understand what you're saying…Could there, perhaps, be a way to the Torrent Forest without necessarily repeating our journey in entire?"
Raine thought for a moment, trying to piece together the best course of action. "We have to take into account many variables, such as acquiring the Aionis, or defeating Origin. And even if we could manage that, whoever is currently inhabiting your body, Kratos, will need to be willing to possibly die for the cause, as they would need to release their mana in order to break the seal guarding Origin."
"Either way, it'll take a long time," Genis said, slumping over. The proportions of Raine's body were not what he was used to, however, and he started to fall forward, just barely catching himself in time so as not to cause a disruption. Zelos chuckled, and Genis glared at him.
"Sylvarant will not wait long enough for us to go through the process of releasing Origin," Kratos said, glancing back at the students in the classroom, who were all chattering mindlessly, still oblivious to the happenstances at the front of the schoolhouse.
"I'm not going to give my life up for this world," Zelos asserted, fuming as quietly as he could manage.
"Then what is it you plan to do, Chosen?" Kratos inquired pointedly, folding his arms across his chest. "Let Sylvarant simply fall into ruin while we attempt a plan that might not work? Would you doom all of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla for your own selfish desires?"
"I-I…" Zelos's reaction was understandable, but he had lived as the Chosen. He understood the responsibilities that came with the title, even though he had been privileged enough to live in the flourishing world.
"It is an unfair request," Raine muttered, "but nonetheless, until we are able to regain the Eternal Sword and rectify our situation, we must act as if there is nothing we can do except repeat our journey."
Genis shrugged. "Technically, we don't even know if getting the sword back will fix anything. You'd better not mess this up." He glowered at Zelos, who seemed to have lost all will to fight back. His face had paled, and the fear in his eyes was evident. As Tethe'alla's Chosen, Zelos had really never been faced with the reality that he would need to sacrifice everything he had in order to save a world of which he would not be a part.
"Do not worry, Chosen," Kratos tried, attempting to comfort Zelos. "If you and your companions were able to restore humanity to Colette, then I am certain that we will be able to do the same, should it be necessary."
"Y-you guys better," Zelos stammered, his tiny frame trembling so obviously that no one present could help but feel sorry for him.
"It will be necessary to do everything as closely as possible to the way we did it before," Raine reminded everyone, changing the subject slightly. "And on that note, the students must be taught."
"Wh-what?" Genis squeaked. "You want me to teach, don't you?"
"You are just as knowledgeable as I am, Genis. The students will grow suspicious and question us if we do not begin class soon. The oracle comes at noon. It will be sooner than you know."
Genis's eyes were wide in disbelief, but he relented. "Fine, but only until the oracle."
"That's fine," Raine stated simply, walking away to an empty desk.
"What a hot mess we've been thrown into," Zelos said, shaking his head as he followed Raine.
Kratos gazed at Genis, who watched nervously as the students settled down and turned to the front. He nodded once to the half-elf and strode away. "Indeed."
As you can see, I've eliminated the introductory blurbs for each character, and I've switched up the original body swaps. I will likely not be introducing the later characters and their swaps until that point in the story. It will be a mystery, hopefully.
As a recap:
Kratos is in Lloyd's body
Lloyd is in Zelos's body
Raine and Genis switched bodies
Zelos is in Colette's body
Thanks for reading this story. Every view is appreciated, and reviews are even more appreciated.