Chapter 10: The Ghosts of the Heart

"Kratos…Kratos…" A familiar voice echoed amongst the dark abyss.

"Kratos, wake up, are you going to sleep the entire day away?"

The god's eyes parted, greeted with light from the fire in the middle of their home, and his wife's questionable expression gazing back at him. Her eyes were even bluer than he remembered, and her fiery orange hair more beautiful than he possibly could have imagined.

With a grunt, the resting spartan propped himself up in their bed on his elbow, gazing around the room. It was exactly as he remembered it. Their bed huddled up close beside the fire, their table in the center of the room with benches to either side. Kratos had carved that table and the seats when he and Faye had first built their home together.

"What time is it?"

His wife scoffed, "Past midday. I thought you were a warrior trained from birth, did they allow you to sleep such unreasonable hours away?" Her playful tone soothed Kratos' troubled mind, as it always had.

"No, no they would not," he uttered as he sat up, and let his feet hang over the side of the bed.

She leaned in close, planting a warm kiss on his cheek, "Well I guess it's a good thing your loving wife woke you rather than your trainer."

My…wife…

"Faye… How are you..? Am I…" The sentence faded from Kratos' lips. Either this was a very good dream, or he had joined Faye in the afterlife.

He tried to remember how he got here. Blurred memories stretched thin, connecting slowly. The spartan remembered arid dunes of a desert, a blinding light, Atreus… Atreus.

Kratos' attention immediately shifted from his wife standing before him to look around the room once more, but he saw no signs of his son. The boy's bed wasn't even in its usual spot where it had been for years.

"You are not dead, my love," his wife said plainly but warmly.

He stood, continuing to look around. "How did I get here? Is this… magic. Trickery. An illusion..?"

Kratos was brought back to the moment as Faye's hand reached for his own. His head snapped back to his wife, as he lost himself in those crystal clear blue eyes. "How long has it been since we last spoke? I missed the tone of your voice. Funnily enough, I even miss the different tones of your grumbles, too."

It started coming back quicker and quicker now. Flashes of Atreus and Kratos fighting an Egyptian god in the desert. A cursed blade the god wielded, that he had killed the sun god with. He and Freya had journeyed south to help them… Freya…

"I have to get back. How? Do you know?" Kratos posed to his seemingly dead wife. Whatever form of apparition or illusion this was, he hoped it had answers.

"Whose Freya?" His wife asked with a tilt of her head. "The Vanir goddess? Odin's wife? Are you allies with her?"

"I, yes," the Greek god stuttered, "She is my friend. We're in Egypt. Helping them with some of their own kind that turned on them."

His wife stepped back now with a smile. "So she's the one you keep having thoughts of. You quite enjoy her company, yes? Has another woman melted that stoic, grumpy heart of yours?"

She swirled around the room a couple times, throwing a teasing glance at her husband.

"No, only you are in my heart. You are my wife."

Faye stopped, her expression grew more serious now. "Kratos, I'm dead. I'm not your wife, I was."

Now Kratos stepped forward, bridging the gap between them. He took his wife's hands in his own, "No Faye, I love you, I'll always love you."

With a loving smile, she brought her hand up to cup Kratos' cheek. They stared at each other for a while, in silence. "My love, do not waste time on the departed. You have loved before, you can love again, but you need to open your heart to it."

He leaned in and kissed his wife. They embraced, holding each other tightly. He was terrified to let go. The kiss parted, and they continued hugging as he whispered, "Is this real? Are you real?"

He heard a quick giggle as his wife shifted to kiss his cheek and whisper back in his ear, "I'm not sure, my love. Whose to say? Remember what I said, Kratos, open your heart. You have a good heart. You deserve to share it with others, and let them share theirs in turn."

Kratos blinked, and suddenly he was no longer in their house in the dark. He stood in a field, waist high grass in every direction as far as the horizon would go. A warm, yellow sun cascaded light down upon him. He spun, looking for his wife, but saw nothing but reeds blowing in the wind.

"Father?" A woman's voice softly spoke from behind him.

The god spun, but he did not recognize the woman who spoke the words. She was tall, nearly as tall as he was. Long brown hair waved down from her head around her shoulders and back. The woman had full cheeks and a tight jawline, her large brown eyes were staring at Kratos with concern and hope. She couldn't have been but a few years older than Atreus.

With a slight shake of his head in confusion as his only reply, the woman now stepped closer towards the god with her hand outstretched. "Do you not recognize me?"

Suddenly it all clicked in his brain, the hair, the eyes, her face… she looked so very different and yet the same from how he remembered her. "Calliope…"

His daughter smiled and nodded. Her hand found his now, and she brought it back up to her cheek. Her skin was warm, but that was not all the spartan noticed. His skin..it wasn't pale white. He and his daughter shared the same skin tone, albeit his a touch darker from the many years in the sun as a spartan. He withdrew his hand, staring at his own palms and forearms in disbelief.

"What… is this place? How are you here? You're…older."

Calliope smiled with a nod once more. "Yes, and you look…a touch older as well. I like the beard more than what you used to have."

Her hand reached out and caressed the scruff of his beard before rising up to rub his cheek. Kratos could feel himself fighting back tears now. "How are you… I was just…"

With a surprising strength, Calliope brought his head down to hers. Their foreheads touched, as his daughter closed her eyes, tears slowly trickling down her cheeks. "You were with Faye, yes? I cannot say how you are here, or if this is real. It feels real. But, I was not this age when I died. I cannot explain it, I'm sorry."

Their embrace parted, much to Kratos' wishes it hadn't. "I killed you.. When you were but a girl. You're a woman now. How… I don't understand. How do you know of Faye?"

His daughter laughed, "She was your wife, you loaf. Of course I know her. The two of you made Atreus, your son. You think about them often, as well as Mimir, Brok, Freya…"

How is this possible? I slayed her and Lysandre, she was not this old. How does she know of their names? Is she angry at me for having a second family?

"I..do not know how it is that we have come to be here, together. I did not intend to replace you or your mother, with Faye or Atreus. I loved your mother and you, I wish we had had more time then. That I was not the man I was. I… Would never try to replace you in my heart," he confessed to his now adult daughter.

"I know father," she chuckled smiling. "You weren't replacing us. Father, it had been hundreds of years since our death when you even met Faye. You are allowed to love again. You've punished yourself enough in this long life. You do not need to do it further by swearing off love and happiness whenever your family passes before you. Do you not see that?" Calliope's hands reached out to cup the back of his neck now as she brought him in close. "Mother and I would never, never, be hateful towards you for finding love again. For having a child again. Why do you think that? We want you to be happy, father. You have been an amazing father to Atreus, just as you were to me. You were a dutiful, loving, respectful husband to my mother, and you were to Faye in turn. You have one of the strongest, kindest hearts, father, it would be such a shame were you to never share it with another again on some self-imposed, false wishes you believe us to have or hold you to. Be happy father. Love again, live again. We are not angrily judging you from the afterlife. We wish for nothing but warm light to shine down on you."

It had been many, many years since his daughter had last appeared in his dreams. For what felt like an eternity, every night's sleep was haunted with nightmares of Kratos murdering his former family again, and again. Gods know the memories were certainly taken advantage of by the likes of Persephone or Ares. Since he left Greece, and had successfully killed Zeus, he had rarely dreamed of Calliope or Lysandra. On the fleeting nights he had, it was usually just memories from days long past. Laying in bed with his wife, whittling a flute for Calliope, how their faces lit up when he returned home from war.

"Calliope I… You are just as beautiful as your mother," was all the god could say as he raised a finger to wipe away her tears.

She laughed, "Will you do as I asked? Will you open yourself to love? Without fear of the dead's envy or hatred? You have that chance again father, just look."

The god turned to look where his daughter was pointing, and saw in the distance.. "Freya."

Standing alone a few dozen paces away the Vanir goddess stood with her back to them. Her wild, braided hair was gently being buffeted in the mild breeze. Kratos turned from the distant Freya back to his daughter, scared to let her go as he had been with Faye as well.

Calliope knew his thoughts, and smirked. "Go father. I'm gone, remember? Open your heart, you are not replacing us. You need not feel guilty, or remorseful. We'll all be together again some day. Now, go get her, you bloody idiot!"

He quickly leaned in to plant one last kiss on her forehead, turned and sprinted to Freya. He dare not look back, for fear he'd lose the strength in his feet and return to his deceased daughter. In a rapid few paces he had arrived at Freya, she looked just as she did the day they first met. That warm, spring day when Atreus and he had been guided into her home beneath the giant turtle after injuring Hildisvini.

"Freya, how are you here?" He uttered between brisk exhales from running.

She turned to face him, a warm smile on her lips. "Hello, Kratos."

The words were kind, but sounded distant. "How are you… I do not understand anything of what's going on. Are you alive, Freya? Are we alive? Are you trapped here with me?"

Freya's eyes looked out towards the hills of rolling grass cascading in waves with the wind. "I don't know. Are we alive? Are you with me?"

Kratos stepped back, unsure of who or what he was speaking to. This mirage didn't have the same warmth as Calliope or Faye had. She seemed indifferent, like a stranger. Her lips spoke words with great weight, but no emotion to them.

He nodded as he reached his hands out bracing her shoulders. "I am Freya. I am here, with you."

The goddess turned back to meet the spartan's gaze with faded eyes and whispered, "Then, you best wake up."

Suddenly, the world went black. The sun, the warmth, the grass, all gone. There was just a dark void that consumed everything. Then a voice rang out, it was her voice.

I think your father only looks at me as a partner…he still holds your mother dearly…yet to let that go… I do not wish him to.

Kratos looked around, trying to find a source in the darkness.

Your mother was an incredible woman…do not wish…replace her. Still loves your mother…no room..for me.

A small sliver of light beamed from the distance. Kratos began to struggle towards it, he could not tell if he was running, crawling, or climbing. Whatever movement he could, he willed himself towards it, he just followed the light and direction the echoed voice came from.

Kratos' eyelids cracked open and fluttered, as he woke up and gazed around him. The room was dimly lit, a few candles remained lit on two of the walls, others had melted away completely. He shifted his head, and was met with a stiff jolt of pain in his neck. In fact, his entire body ached down to the bone when he tried to move.

"Welcome back," Atreus' voice quietly spoke from his right.

The lying god barely managed to crane his neck in the direction of the voice, coming from his seated son.

"How long..was I asleep?" His voice was hoarse, and his throat felt dryer than the desert they had fought in.

"Five and a half days, and before you ask, Freya is next door, asleep. She wanted to keep sleeping here but, after a few days of your progress not changing, I told her I'd take tonight's watch. She didn't feel safe at first. Your room was ransacked the night of Ra's murder."

Kratos' head snapped back to his son from gazing around the room, "What?"

Atreus stood now, walking to stand over his father. "Yeah, after you became stable she went upstairs to finally change. Turns out, your whole room was turned inside out. Nothing was missing, but yeah, someone was looking for something. That's not all, the sun hasn't come out since that night either. Just the same blood red sky and creepy pale pink moon."

It had been hard to tell under the red night's sky in the midst of combat, but his son truly looked like a man now. His nose was more distinct, chin sharper and more pronounced. The boy's eyes as well were gone. They now reflected a much higher level of age and experience than when Kratos had llast looked into them a year and a half ago. The mop of disheveled hair on his head had grown a shade darker too, it wasn't quite as fiery and light as his mother's had been. A few freckles still dotted Atreus' cheeks, as did another new scar on the right side.

The spartan said nothing, his eyes drifted down to the floor as he contemplated.

"So, did you see anything? Dream anything?"

Kratos groaned, as he tried to sit up, the wounds from the curved sword burning anew as he did. Immediately he fell back down into bed, much to Atreus' concerned expression.

"Your mother."

Now, his son's eyes went wide. "What?"

Kratos spent the next ten minutes summarizing what had transpired while he was unconscious. The young man said nothing, just occasionally nodding and watching with great interest as his father recounted the near death experience.

"So, they were basically telling you… it's okay to move on? Like you had their blessing?" Atreus finally spoke.

"Mmrhn, they were mirages of a near death fog, Atreus. They gave nothing, it wasn't real."

His son stood, with a raised, irritated tone he scolded, "Dad you almost died. How do you know that wasn't real? If mom were here I bet she really would be telling you to move on. It's been almost a decade, dad, it's okay. You don't have to wait another two or three hundred years like you did with your first family. Mom loved you, and would want you to be happy!"

Kratos returned the irritated tone with an angered one of his own. "If your mother was here none of this would be a concern."

Atreus' head fell as he replied with a few shakes, "But she's not dad. You know who is, Freya? She literally refused to leave this room for days. She took meals here, she didn't even want to leave to bathe. The only way I got her to finally go sleep in a bed was that I told her I'd be here with you tonight and wake her if you woke up. Which I should probably go do soon."

Kratos looked to the door, as he murmured, "Yes, I heard some of your conversation, I think."

His brows lifted in suspicion as Atreus moved to stand over Kratos, looking down at the injured but awake body of his father. "What did you hear?"

"Hrrmph, enough," the spartan exhaled with exhaustion.

Atreus moved to sit back in his seat, as he rested his head in his palms which were propped up on his knees.

"So now what are you gonna do?"

Kratos did not answer, as he did not know himself.