Disclaimer: I don't own Zelos Wilder, but he does own my heart.

Authors' Note: A little Zelos-centric one-shot I wrote awhile ago. I named his father because his father didn't have a name, and I thought the name "Emery" sounded like a noble-enough name.

Please review if you read!

One Distinct Memory

Zelos Wilder had only one distinct memory of his father.

It wasn't something that he dwelt on. In his day-to-day life, it held no significance, because Emery Wilder had certainly left him nothing of real value. True, Zelos was the heir to the estate, but that was only because he was the Chosen no matter what his father's will said (and though Zelos himself had never seen it, he was positive that everything was likely left to Seles, the only one of the two of them that was born out of actual love). Zelos' father held no impact on Zelos' life, and so thinking about him was time wasted, especially since his father had barely ever given him the time of day. As a child, Zelos had been lucky to even catch a glimpse of the man, and that was only in passing in the hallway. When Zelos had tried to say something - do something - do anything to get his attention, Emery would ignore him, or else spare his son just a quick glance before looking away again. His behavior was even more frigid than that of Zelos' mother, and that was certainly saying something.

However, Zelos had one distinct memory of his father - and only the one. He wasn't even sure if the memory was real, but when he did think on it and think back to that time, Zelos could tell himself that it was - believed it was, anyway, for what else was there for him to believe? Doubting its authenticity and thinking it a dream wouldn't get him anywhere, and for something that held barely any significance anyway, there was really no point. Zelos had only been four at the time, and so the memory could have been fabricated, or a dream, but Zelos highly doubted it; if it were a dream or a fabrication, it would have been a lot more pleasant.

Zelos was four, as stated. It was very early in the morning - much earlier than Zelos was usually roused from his slumber - and he knew that he shouldn't have been wandering the halls on his own. But he'd just recently learned how to open his bedroom door, and since he'd woken up early, he'd taken his teddy bear and decided to wander the halls of the great manor with the intent of finding Sebastian and requesting his morning breakfast. He wasn't even hungry, really, but Zelos liked seeing what shapes the cooks would mold his food into, and juice seemed like the perfect solution for his parched throat. In any event, Zelos couldn't remember how to get to the kitchen and he didn't know where Sebastian was, and that left him and Honeybear to wander the halls together, the stuffed toy clutched protectively to his chest.

Most of the doors were closed, and Zelos didn't bother knocking on all of them, since he didn't want to wake anyone up (except Sebastian, but Zelos didn't know which room was Sebastian's, and he knew that it would be bad manners to take the chance and wake someone on accident, even if he could blame it on Honeybear). But as he turned a corner to make his way down another elegant corridor, Zelos noticed that one door was ajar, and he paused by it, peeking in.

The room had a tall glass window at the very back, with a mahogany desk situated dead center. It was not unoccupied; a man with vibrant red hair was sitting in the tall-backed chair, a pen in hand, not even looking up as Zelos paused in the doorframe. The boy fidgeted, looking down to Honeybear, wondering what he should do. Zelos recognized the man in the chair as Father, but Father never really spoke to Zelos, and Zelos knew that he was not supposed to bother Father when Father was busy. Zelos didn't know if his father was busy or not, and by looking at Honeybear, Zelos could only guess that the bear was at a loss as well. Hesitating a moment longer, Zelos took a step forward to get a better look in the room, but his movement caused him to bump against the door, making it open a little wider with a quiet creak. Zelos froze as his father looked up, his own blue eyes piercing, and Zelos winced when his father spoke.

"Zelos. You should be asleep."

"I woke up," Zelos replied, clutching Honeybear tighter than ever. "Honeybear woke me up, 'cause he was hungry." His father said nothing, merely continuing to stare at Zelos, prompting the boy to add, "I - I'm sorry. A - Are you busy?"

Such a question seemed to take the man for surprise, and his gaze became less piercing and more curious as he looked at the boy. "What?"

"Sebastian says I'm not s'posed to bother Father if Father's busy," Zelos explained, throwing a couple glances down to Honeybear before he looked back up at his father. Emery Wilder continued to keep his gaze on Zelos, causing Zelos to swallow nervously before continuing. "So I wanna know if you're busy, 'cause if you're not, then . . ."

"Then you'll bother me?" Zelos wasn't sure, but somehow, he didn't think his father's tone sounded angry. It almost sounded happy, in a confused way, and Zelos cautiously took another step forward, holding onto Honeybear for dear life. "I see. . . . Don't just stand there in the doorway, Zelos. Come in."

Zelos jumped slightly, his clear blue eyes widening, before a smile parted his lips and he rushed into the room. He felt tiny within it, even tinier than he did in the hallway, but that hardly mattered to him. He made his way over to his father's large desk, and Emery moved his chair back slightly, reaching down to grab Zelos and pull the boy into his lap. Zelos couldn't stop smiling; the view was so different from so high up, and his father finally wasn't busy. Finally, he wanted to talk to Zelos. He wiggled around until he could look his father in the eye, and his father seemed to not want to take his eyes off the boy in his lap. Finally, he spoke.

"You have my eyes, but Mylene's facial structure." Reaching out one finger, he traced around Zelos' forehead, across his cheeks, and around his lips. Zelos couldn't help but giggle a little at the chop. "Truly the product of the Church's manipulation."

"Huh?" Zelos blinked, tilting his head to the side. "Father, what's that? Praduck? Manipication?"

His father shook his head, not answering Zelos' questions, nor correcting the boy's mispronunciations. Instead, he continued to gaze at Zelos steadily for a good few minutes, until Zelos looked down at Honeybear to try and distract himself from the nervousness that was once again beginning to creep through his system. When his father spoke again, his tone sounded just as sad as it had when he spoke of the Church's "manipication," but it was also gentle, a tone that Zelos rarely heard his father use whenever they were in the same vicinity for more than five minutes at a time.

"Zelos, do you know who the Chosen One is?"

Zelos stopped toying with Honeybear's ear to look back into his father's gaze, and after thinking about it for a moment, he guessed, "You?"

"Yes. Me." Zelos smiled, overjoyed that he'd gotten the question right. "Do you know why that is important?"

"Ummm . . . 'Cause you have lots of money?" Zelos tried, and when his father didn't answer, he continued. "And you know lots and lots of people. Like the King of Tethe'alla, and Princess Hilda, and the Pope, and all those ladies that Mother talks to . . . And we have this big house." Zelos spread his arms wide to show Emery just how big, almost dropping Honeybear in the process. His father nodded.

"That is true - I do have lots of money, I own this estate, I have met lots of people . . . As far as social prestige and political power goes, I am second only to the King of Tethe'alla." Zelos didn't know what social prestige or political power meant, save that both things sounded important, and he glowed with pride for his father. "However, that is not a good thing."

"Huh? Why?" Zelos felt a frown tug at his lips, suddenly worried. Emery let out a small sigh.

"Being the Chosen One is a bad thing, Zelos. It can easily ruin your life. I am the Chosen One, and because of that, I had to marry whom the Church told me to marry. My status as the Chosen One is the only reason your mother and I were married. If not, I would be with Seles' mother right now."

Seles. Zelos' little sister, and his best friend, truly. Zelos was happiest when he got to leave the mansion for the day and go play with Seles, or when she got to come and play in the mansion with him, the two of them running through the halls like wild children, playing with balls indoors (which they technically weren't supposed to do), or playing hide and seek. Zelos knew that she had a different mother than he did and that was why she didn't live with him, but that didn't really matter to him; they had fun together, and he loved her as much as he loved Honeybear, and that was quite a lot.

But his frown was more pronounced now as he processed what his father was telling him. Being the Chosen One was a bad thing - it would ruin his life, and make him sad, if Zelos' deductions were correct.

"So . . . you don't love Mother?" Zelos asked, and Emery shook his head. "Do you love me, Father?"

Each second seemed to pass like an eternity. Emery seemed reluctant to answer, and Zelos could feel each of his own heartbeats becoming more painful. When Emery did answer, it wasn't the answer that Zelos wanted to hear; he didn't wrap his arms tightly around Zelos and say that of course he did, that he could never not love Zelos and that Zelos was his favorite boy in the entire world, just like Seles was his favorite girl. Instead, he said:

"You are my son, Zelos."

And left it at that.

Of course, he didn't have too much time to say much else, because at that moment Sebastian - looking quite concerned - appeared in the doorway, though the concern melted into an expression of relief as he caught sight of Zelos on Emery's lap. No doubt the manservant had been absolutely frantic when he'd gone to Zelos' room to find the boy gone, and it was also very likely that going to Emery was a last resort; Sebastian reported primarily to Mylene, who had more to do with her son's affairs than Emery could ever dream of, and as such Sebastian and Emery rarely spoke.

"Ah, there you are, young master. I was most worried when I did not find you in your room."

"I'm with Father," Zelos spoke up, but his voice wasn't as confident as he wanted it to sound. Raising it a little bit, and raising his chin defiantly, he added, "Father's not busy today."

"I do have work to attend to, actually. Sebastian, take Zelos down to breakfast." Before Zelos even had the chance to protest, his father moved the boy down to the floor, and bowing dutifully once, Sebastian moved across the room to take Zelos by the hand. Zelos looked back at his father the entire time that he was led out of the office, but Emery Wilder had returned to what he had been working on, and did not look up to meet Zelos' gaze once.

It was the only clear memory that Zelos had of his father - the only distinct image that came to mind when he thought about Emery Wilder. But such thoughts were fleeting, such memories were meaningless, and it wasn't as if it had any impact on his life.

Even so, when he looked to Lloyd Irving, who had not one, but two loving fathers . . . Zelos couldn't help but feel just a tiny bit jealous.