A/N: Sadly, chapters have not been beta'd for plot inconsistencies from this update onwards. I hope you will not notice too much of a dip in quality.
"Pronyma."
"Kratos. A pleasure."
"What are you after?"
She preened, a triumphant smirk on her lips which she did not even bother to hide. "So cold! Lord Yggdrasill wishes only for your safety."
One could scent the untruth in the air.
"I wonder, Kratos, how does it feel to see your son like that?" She matched his pace but not his stride. "At the mercy of a Cruxis Crystal produced by your dearly departed wife, no less. Just like the fate of a Chosen. What was her name, again? A0—"
"Do you enjoy being a pestering seducer, Pronyma? Neither Yggdrasill nor I care for it. He may have your loyalty, but you do not have his respect."
She staggered at the affront and gave a strangled gasp. "How dare you!"
Kratos' expression was unmoved. "If you have nothing better to do than to keep tabs on me, do it out of my sight."
"You cur," she sneered, but fell back and left him in peace.
He opened the door to his quarters and gazed at Lloyd, standing in the corner. His glassy eyes were set forward, his body relaxed. Yggdrasill had returned his son to him after the others had escaped.
He took a half-step forward, wanting to engulf Lloyd in an embrace.
No.
Instead, he pivoted on his heel and began to walk again. "Come," he said. Lloyd followed closely behind.
As they moved down the halls of Welgaia, Kratos ran through countless scenarios in his head. Could he sneak Lloyd out before anyone noticed? No, Pronyma was there. Pickpocket the key crest when he had the chance? No, Pronyma would catch him snooping around Mithos and suspect he was up to something. Retrieve the aionis? Pronyma again.
Damn her.
He needed to shake her off for long enough to at least get a message out to someone who was in the position to get their hands on it. That would be either Yuan or the Chosen of Tethe'alla.
He winced inwardly. Neither of them were ideal.
The two of them entered the laboratory and Kratos made straight for the imaging equipment. Yggdrasill wanted baseline assessments and the status of the Cruxis Crystal; these tests were standard and quite harmless, so he would comply with these orders, at least.
Nearly an hour later, Kratos was glued to the test results. Lloyd was farther along than he'd suspected.
Key crest or no, it was only a matter of time.
His mana signature was warping quite rapidly and his blood work revealed both somatic and germline mutations. It led to a harrowing truth: this was not simply the work of the Angelus Project.
It was Kratos' fault that the genes he had passed on had cleared the way for further mutation in Lloyd.
For how long his genes had been like that was anyone's guess. With Sylvarant's decline, no one other than Desians had the capacity nor the competence to perform blood tests, so it was likely that Lloyd had never had a sample taken before; even if he had, the only paperwork would be on tangible paper. That would take more digging than Kratos was willing to do.
Masking a groan, he slid back the glass to let Lloyd stand up again. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, muscles slack beneath his palm. At the beginning of their journey, Lloyd had always tensed up when he did that, but grew comfortable with it and would even grin in pride.
If he had only been a father worthy of his son, none of this would have happened.
"I apologise, Lloyd."
Unable to restrain himself any longer, Kratos drew him into his arms. His chin rested on Lloyd's hair, his heart against Lloyd's cheek.
"What are you doing here?"
"I will return you to the surface."
The woman's blue eyes locked on his. "You're not going to keep me here? After I overheard your plans to capture Lloyd and Colette and the others?"
"You were only held here to prevent informing Lloyd's group of the ambush. Mithos ordered me to bring you here; there is nothing stopping you from leaving now that it has been carried out."
"Flexible with your orders, aren't you…"
Kratos deigned not to respond.
"Then how is everyone? Have they really been captured?" A hand unconsciously crept to Kate's mouth in concern.
He swallowed. "They were… and most escaped."
Kate's arm fell to her side in dismay. "Most?"
Another gulp. An itch on the underside of his elbow. The urge to clench his fists until the red of his eyes beaded his hands.
"Lloyd is still here," he managed, every word feeling like molasses in his throat.
"Lloyd? Isn't he— Can't you—"
Kratos swivelled around to face the cell door, hand on Flamberge's hilt. "I am unable to do anything for the moment. The time will come."
Perhaps he was only telling himself that. However, it was the only thing he could hold onto now.
"We should leave now. Someone may notice your disappearance soon." He stepped forward, expecting her to follow. He half-turned when footsteps failed to follow, a reprimand ready on his tongue.
Her blazing eyes silenced him.
"When is 'the time'? You can't simply wait for the opportunity." Kratos opened his mouth to object—it was too dangerous, it put everyone at risk—but she broke in again, wringing her hands. "You make it for yourself. Otherwise, nothing will change."
He stared at her. The words echoed in his head but in someone else's voice. "The situation is complex; you do not fully understand—"
"I don't have to! Lloyd is your son, isn't he? Aren't you going to protect him?" Her voice lowered in volume and softened—she was likely unaware of the enhanced hearing granted to angelic beings. "Like the way I wished my father would…"
A muscle in his neck twitched. "You are quite relentless."
"I learned that from Lloyd." She huffed, mirthful.
A brief smirk graced his lips. "I see." He strode out of the room, and now she followed.
Kratos observed Kate as she looked about in restrained wonder. The researcher in her was spellbound by the blatantly superior magitechnology in Welgaia; her conscience was equally horrified by the other angels, hollow and deadened.
He mulled over her rebuke. Nothing will change. But what could he do?
He had spent his whole life relying on others. Four millennia ago, it had been Mithos. Twenty years ago, it had been Anna. Now, Lloyd. His own son. What kind of parent was he, to depend completely on his offspring?
Dusk had stripped the sky of its sun when they exited the Tower of Salvation. The residual warmth in the atmosphere was bleeding away quickly. He counted each step they descended. Even with all the years Kratos had lived, many times the number of stair steps he was traversing, that fateful day would remain forever in his memory. When Lloyd had borne witness to betrayal by one he had trusted so fully, had had his beliefs shattered in the space of a few minutes, and stood up to fight regardless.
"So this is what the Tower of Salvation looks like up close," spoke Kate, entering his thoughts.
He gave a pithy nod. "To where should I see you off? Sybak?"
Her eyes fell. "No…"
"Ozette, then?" His brow twitched. "There is nothing left there, though."
She took a deep breath, meeting his eyes again. "If possible, I would like to rebuild that village. It's my father's birthplace, and we did horrible things to Presea too, after all."
"Very well." He brought his wings out, distending the mana for a breath and flapping them a few times. The resultant gusts buffeted the bushes behind them. Kate's eyes followed the aqua glow.
"Remarkable," she breathed.
Kratos chose not to respond to that. "Here," he said, holding out his hands, "grab on and hold tight."
She clasped them gingerly and his lips pressed together in slight amusement. "I give you my word that I will not let go."
"I will hold you to that." She eyed him, half-dubious, half-mischievous.
He made sure to fly slowly and maintain a constant speed, conscious of the fierce wind and of producing horizontal g-forces that non-angels would be unable to tolerate. Neither was she equipped with an exsphere, reducing her resilience further. Kate did not wriggle in his grasp, which was a great relief. Anna had been much different.
The thought of her made his heart throb with dulled grief and his body ache, starved of her gentle touch. Her eyes, crinkled in laughter, gleeful brown reflected in her son's; her hair chestnut under the noonday sun, hickory in the twilight; cheeks puffed up as she entertained Lloyd, who would giggle uncontrollably, and the two would babble away for minutes on end…
Those days were long gone. His Lloyd was a man now.
His? No.
Don't delude yourself.
He was fourteen years past being Lloyd's father.
Kratos found a large rock jutting out from the side of the cliff, a twisting tree providing abundant shade. He handed Kate a simple sandwich (it was hard enough finding proper food on Derris-Kharlan) and waited for her to do her business and rub feeling back into her arms before they took off again. The waxing moon provided light enough to fly under.
If he had found Lloyd that day, what would have happened? Would he have raised his son in Iselia? Would he have persisted in running? Would he have left Lloyd behind, thinking it too risky to bring him along and hoping the peace treaty with Forcystus' ranch would be enough to keep him out of Cruxis' hands? Or would he have given up and returned to Mithos with Lloyd in tow, excuses and demands issuing from his frantic mouth?
His jaw tightened. There was no point in continuing to speculate.
He had been feeling Kate's grip loosening from exhaustion for the last hour. His remained as strong as ever; nonetheless, he sought a place to rest. A grassy mesa dotted with flowers—it looked relatively comfortable. The half-elf was so tired she was asleep within minutes, and Kratos spent the night with petals in his hands, the moon in his eyes.
A couple of hours past daybreak, she moaned and sat up. He watched her in slight amusement as she attempted to pick blades of grass out of her hair; it did not help that both objects of note were of similar colouring.
"I see you're awake," he commented.
She sent him a half-hearted glare. "Quite. Why didn't you wake me up?"
"We flew until late last night. You are not accustomed to hard travelling."
He tilted his head to the paper package beside her. "There is jerky to break your fast."
Kate unwrapped it and peered at the cured meat. "What about you?"
"I do not require sustenance."
"I realised that you don't need as much as us mortals yesterday when you ate nothing, but is it really like that?" In her eyes was the same glint as Raine's. Kratos found himself scooting away.
"I am able to consume food but it is both unnecessary and a waste to do so," he answered.
She hummed in interest, and the morning passed in silence save for the birds' morning song and the rush of wind in their ears as they sped across the sky.
Kate spied the burnt remains of Ozette approximately half an hour after Kratos did, evidenced by her bodily jerk. He had braced himself beforehand, having sensed the minuscule tightening of her hands and wrists milliseconds before she did, and so he swayed only a little in midair.
He set her down at what was once the entrance to the Quiescent Village. She gazed around, her chin quivering ever slightly. "There's a lot of work to be done."
"Indeed." He raked his eyes over the panorama, its desolation made more apparent in the bright afternoon. "Do you not require support?"
Kate smiled. "Eventually. I am not so strong that I can do too much heavy work by myself. I am a scientist, and one who was shut up in a basement for years until recently."
"I will assist you."
She turned, quirked a brow, and shook her head. "Not you."
He raised his own eyebrow in response. "Am I inadequate for your purposes?"
"Not at all," she chuckled. "Merely that you have something else you need to do. Yes?"
"Perhaps."
"My, you are really nothing like Lloyd."
"That's for the best."
"It might be… He could certainly use some of your composure. No, I think he takes after you more than you think. Don't make that face. I mean well; you should be proud."
"I am proud. Of him."
"Hm. Make that more obvious to him next time."
Kratos' countenance dimmed, reminding them both of Lloyd's stay on Derris-Kharlan.
"You should tell him once he's out." His eyes darted up to meet hers. "With the way he's entangled in all these incidents, someone's going to spill the beans sooner or later. Better you in a controlled environment than an enemy attempting to throw you both off guard," she maintained.
He grunted. Kate rolled her eyes. Men.
"Just think about it. Now, off you go." She was tempted to tack on 'shoo' but, judging from his brusque expression, she decided she had better not. Was that a sigh she saw him give?
"Thank you for bringing me here."
"Think nothing of it."
With two strong beats of his wings, Kratos was gone.
He could sense Pronyma had been following as best she could for the last hour or so. No matter. She was far too remote to overhear him.
For a second, Kratos wondered why she had been preoccupied beforehand—she had only reappeared a day or so after he had seen Kate to Ozette. Whatever she had done, he trusted that the others would take care of it.
He landed on an outcropping of granite, checking his surroundings. He had to always remain vigilant. After a moment, he withdrew his communicator and dialled the code.
Red blinked onto the screen and he suppressed the flinch that threatened to overwhelm his body.
"Chosen."
There was hesitation on the man's face. Blaming Kratos for Lloyd's plight, no doubt.
"Oh, it's you."
If Kratos had learned anything from the latest Journey of Regeneration, it was that Lloyd had the uncanny ability to make allies—friends—of whomever he chose to trust.
"Lend me your strength for Lloyd's sake."
He had no choice but to bank on it.
The redhead jerked backwards. "Wh-What the hell is this, all of a sudden? You dump him into that mess and now you expect me to dig him out of it?! You SO—"
"That is not what I am referring to," Kratos interrupted. "Lloyd will be fine." Had better be. I mean to handle what comes after his key crest is restored."
The Chosen quietened, allowing Kratos to continue. "He requires the Eternal Sword for what he's aiming: the unification of the worlds. For Lloyd, a human, to be acknowledged by the Eternal Sword, he needs the Ring of the Pact. Chosen, get some aionis in my place."
"Aionis? That's the weird rock they had me ingest." His eyes narrowed. "Why can't you get it yourself? Your cover hasn't been busted."
"Perhaps not, but I am being watched. Yggdrasill no longer trusts me," Kratos explained dryly. "Now that Lloyd is… temporarily out of action, I cannot afford to appear suspicious."
"Heh. After all the stunts you've pulled, I guess I'd be surprised if he let you off the hook so easily." Tethe'alla's Chosen flicked a glossy curl behind his shoulder. It was truly absurd that his son had managed to get so close to such a man. "Now, if you don't mind, I need my beauty sleep. It's almost midnight over here!"
"One last thing. By dragging my mother's name through the dirt, you slur Lloyd's grandmother."
There was a sullen silence.
"I take it that constitutes your agreement. Farewell, Chosen."
"Hey, you—!"
Kratos ended the call.
Two days after Kvar's demise, Kratos found Lloyd training without him.
Lloyd had not noticed his approach yet, and he had been standing there for several minutes. Kratos would be impressed with the level of concentration Lloyd proved he had after all, but if the trade-off was the failure to be attentive to whatever was in his vicinity, Kratos would take the latter any day.
His son's survival was worth far more than anything.
"Lloyd."
The boy halted, and a pivoting heel sent one sword flying to Kratos' neck. He stepped back swiftly, letting it whistle through thin air.
"Better," he noted. "Though you need to always be aware of your surroundings."
Lloyd nodded at his sparing praise. There was no trace of displeasure, nor pride, in his expression—only determination.
"So this dire state of affairs has galvanised you into further training."
"Galvanised…?"
Kratos' forearm tensed as he made a conscious effort to keep it from palming his face. "Urged you to train more."
"Well, yeah. I have to protect Colette." He stared at Anna's exsphere. "She would have wanted the same, I'm sure of it."
Kratos exhaled softly. "Lloyd. I should apologise. I'm harder on you than I have any right to be."
Lloyd looked up and met his gaze. "No, you're not. You're right. I want to get stronger; I have to. To stop more victims from being created by the human ranches, to help Colette regenerate the world, and to keep my friends safe. So I need you to keep pushing me." He grinned, somewhat shamefaced. "But uh, maybe tone down the lecturing next time?"
Kratos gave his son only slightly raised eyebrows to signal his amusement. "No promises."
"Aw, come on!"
"You mustn't die."
"Wha…? Well, sure, but…"
"The Chosen would be immensely distressed if you did."
Any comeback Lloyd would have said was cut off by and forgotten with the metallic sound of Kratos' blade being unsheathed. "Show me your drive."
"You got it!"
"You sent him off after the Chosen of Sylvarant?"
"Why, of course I did. Should I not make use of my newfound helper? He is a very obedient child."
Kratos seethed. His hands shook, imperceptible to the human eye but not to the angelic one.
"Come now, Kratos. Once he returns with Martel's vessel, we'll be able to have a big reunion!" Yggdrasill's grin was wide. "After thousands of years… my dear sister will finally be with us, just as she should be."
Kratos frowned. "Do you really believe that Lloyd, as he is, will be able to complete such a task? An advantage of seven to one is no small matter."
"Pronyma is keeping an eye on him," replied Yggdrasill, waving a hand nonchalantly. "It will serve as a practical test of his prowess on the battlefield. From the report you submitted to me, I am quite confident that Lloyd will prevail. In the off chance they win against him, she should be able to order his withdrawal."
He lowered his head, racking it to shake loose any further pretexts and finding none. A quick bow was executed, and Kratos headed for the exit.
"Are you going to join in observing the battle? I'm afraid I cannot allow you to do that."
Kratos' expression iced over but he did not turn. "I am not allowed to see my own son?"
"Is it not equitable that I restrict your access after your betrayal all those years ago? After you ran off with a human woman? A host body, even?" Yggdrasill's voice had hardened. "I cannot afford to have Origin's seal running amok. Besides, I have another job for you."
At Kratos' silence, Yggdrasill said, "It so happens that a trustworthy source has revealed that Yuan is a traitor. I have confronted him; it is clear that he regrets nothing, the churl."
His heart leapt into his mouth. Had Zelos made his choice? Had he sold them out?
No; the Chosen would have betrayed Kratos' allegiances and recent actions as well as Yuan's. So there was another turncoat in their midst?
Who?
"Seeing that I seem to have judged you inappropriately as the defector, would you not like the occasion to clear your name?" He could imagine Yggdrasil lounging on the throne, expecting an affirmative to the proposition he had so graciously extended.
There was something else going on behind the scenes and Kratos was determined to get to the bottom of it.
"Just so."
A/N: Another background scene from Tales of Fandom vol. 2. However, this took place later and turned out differently, for reasons I think you can figure out…