Chapter 4: Oh, Sweet Pain

The first brunette woman had long, voluminous hair and her umber eyes sparkled in the bright lamplight, her smile even brighter still; she was the leader of the other three violinists, her name was Isabel. The other women?—he'd already forgotten their names. One wore her hair in a high ponytail with hair that ran down to her tailbone, another one had a bang that stopped abruptly at her eyebrows and coarse, curly hair that was equally as long as the other woman with the ponytail, and finally the last one had short brunette hair with side swept bangs—the look did not suit her long, oval face.

"All you have to do is clap your hands twice and the lamp turns off," Isabel said with one of her bright smiles. "It's activated by sound, pretty cutting edge technology and Mithos had one placed in every bedroom."

"Ah, I see," Kratos said back. He knew he was ignoring the other three as he looked at her almost exclusively; she was quite a sight for sore eyes. He wondered why he hadn't noticed her before.

There was a slight blush on her face. "We've been working on a new song and we're quite excited to play for you."

"Then let's hear it," he said encouragingly.

The blush had not left her face as she looked to the other three with a nod. Isabel started out first slow and sensual and gradually one by one the other violins added more and more depth to the ballad. Isabel seemed completely in her element as she moved the bow up and down the strings lovingly and with a passion he found himself quite drawn to. Eventually, instead of simply admiring her beauty he closed his eyes so that he could listen more closely to the melody. The music was like nothing he had heard before, the complexity almost breathtaking. It was almost a pity that there was an ending which came far too soon in Kratos' opinion.

"Did you like it, my lord," Isabel asked with a hint of bashfulness that Kratos found endearing.

"Yes, it was beautiful," he answered back without hesitation.

"Thank you, my lord," she said with a broad smile.

The four of them bowed to him deeply before turning to take their leave. Isabel was the first one in and the last one out. He watched her longingly wondering if he should say something more, but something stopped him. Something always stopped him. Isabel glanced behind herself, but quickly looked away when she saw Kratos' gaze. She closed the door behind her.

To be completely honest, Isabel was the only reason why he hadn't simply dismissed the quartet. Violins weren't exactly a necessity in his life and it didn't exactly put him to sleep, but it was at the very least calming. Kratos looked towards the lamp and then clapped his hands twice to see if this really did the trick. All in an instant, the light disappeared.

It was the darkness that truly lulled him into sleep. The darkness was deep and all-encompassing and he kept thinking of the last fleeting glance that Isabel had given him nevermind if he probably had better things to be concentrating on. For instance, the Cruxis Crystals…

/

Kratos surprised himself with his calm acceptance of being back in the prison once again. This time, however, he was outside. Though it was another bright, sunny day, the colors around him seemed distressingly dull. An inexplicable depression weighed heavily on him once again, a depression he decided was far too passionate. He was falling through an abyss that left him feeling bereft of both energy and care.

He stood in a field filled with other inmates engaged in activities from conversing to pumping weights. He struggled to find interest in his environment, but it would not come. Looking to the ground, his attention became pinpointed on a lone clump of grass upon a field of dried earth and sparse growth. Finally, he sat down cross-legged waiting. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, maybe for it all to end. Kratos found such thoughts to be disturbing, but he could not shake them. He simply wanted it all to end. Everything. He was so consumed by these thoughts that he did not hear the approach of a group of men. It was only when their presence blocked the sunlight that he looked up. He was sure his eyes held no expression at all as he stared at five rather burly looking men who were in desperate need of a shave and a shower.

Their sneering faces never sent him on edge. When one demanded that he stand up, the words fell on deaf ears. Kratos simply continued to stare half-heartedly. After more choice words from the annoyed men, the tallest one dragged him to his feet roughly with one arm by the nape of his gray, cotton shirt.

He couldn't figure out why he didn't want to fight back. There was no energy to be had. He did not feel angry, he did not feel anything as the first punch crashed into his face and he felt the sweet pain. Why did the pain feel so good? Why did he desperately want them to continue? There was another punch of equal strength and for the first time he felt something—it was a bit like joy, but perverted somehow. He found himself grinning as a string of blood flowed from the side of his mouth. They started calling him names, "freak" being the least of them. The man punched him again and then again before tossing him away in disgust. Kratos was actually afraid that they had lost interest him.

"Is that all you have!" Kratos heard himself yelling over and over again. He simply could not stop himself. He wanted more of it. "All that talk and this is all you can do? Weaklings, the lot of you!"

He finally struck a nerve and they all came at him at once punching him continuously in the face until he fell onto the ground. Kratos was laughing now hysterically. They started kicking him in the guts, stomping on his side. He only laughed louder and with more force. He felt his face being caved in, his legs being turned to jelly. But they all stopped abruptly when a voice yelled out to them threateningly. The sunlight had returned and stung his eyes as he rolled over on his back with a grimace.

All he did for what felt like an hour was stare up at the cloudless sky suffering silently in the reverberating pain. The pain at first sweet felt anything but as his eyes began to well up with moisture. He turned his head to cough up blood. When he looked up again, he saw Esgal's deeply concerned face.

"You can't let them keep doing that to you, brother," Esgal stated matter-of-factly. "Are you really just going to lie there like that?"

Kratos looked away from that concerned face. It hurt him too much to see it. "I don't care…"

"That's the thing—you have to care. This is your life we're talking about! You really just want to waste it like this?"

"I said I don't care," Kratos answered with more force.

"That's too bad. I care. C'mon, let's get you fixed up."

Kratos looked over at Esgal's outstretched hand. With an exasperated sigh, he took it and was lifted up quite easily.

"Ah!" Kratos cried out as he felt a startling pain in his gut. He crumbled down to his knees.

"Are you alright?" Esgal asked.

"Damn it, Esgal, I said I don't care!" he growled. Tears sprang to his eyes unintentionally from the sudden onslaught of stabbing pain.

"Would a man who could still cry really not care? I won't let you die, I promise you that."

Kratos' head was bowed and Esgal had squatted down to his level. Suddenly he felt a warmth on his stomach area and the pain slowly dissipated. The warmth began to spread all throughout his body and the pain disappeared much to his relief. He was glad to feel relief from the pain being taken away. For a moment, he thought he had turned into some kind of masochist.

"Thank you…Thank you very much," he said hoarsely.

"I know, now let's do something productive."

Esgal had his hand held out again and Kratos took it now with little hesitation.

"I want you to start fighting back," Esgal said, "They'll just keep coming back because they know you won't defend yourself."

His depression had begun to subside if only a little as Esgal spoke to him incessantly. Kratos noted that he didn't smell nearly as bad as he had before, but he didn't exactly look well. Then he remembered before when he had been vomiting up food. He wondered if that always happened. If he couldn't keep down his food, then how much energy could he possibly have? Yet he had healed him completely—not an easy feat. Kratos looked at the other with growing respect as Esgal pushed back more of his stringy, sweaty hair from his face. They were walking towards the blacktop where many of the inmates resided.

"Why are you helping me?" Kratos finally asked the other.

Esgal looked at him with a smile, one that looked quite sinister on his face, but Kratos sensed no ill-will from him. "Because that's what I do, besides, I like you, Regal, I like you a lot."

Up until that moment, Kratos had forgotten that he was not walking in his own shoes. The man before him wasn't seeing Kratos, but Regal. It was too confusing to think about especially since he himself could only see himself.

He continued to follow Esgal until they eventually wound up at a bench press. Kratos looked at the other questioningly.

"I want to teach you how to fight back," Esgal explained, "Better to build up some arm muscles."

"I already know how," Kratos said back as he took a seat on the bench.

"But you have no will to fight," Esgal said thoughtfully, "I see now." Esgal sat down beside him. "You asked me yesterday about these shackles," he said with a sigh. "They're only given to half-elves on account of our ability to cast magic."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Well, obviously, it doesn't work for me, but I don't make any trouble for them so they turn a blind eye. For the vast majority, they're so heavy that they can't lift their arms to even cast a decent spell—a simple, yet effective solution."

"So it's impossible for me to attain them?"

"Why would you want to further incapacitate yourself?"

Kratos did not even bother answering the question. He did not have an answer himself. By this time he was merely reciting the thoughts that would come to his mind and beg to be spoken aloud.

"If you were to cause trouble," Esgal began slowly with obvious weariness in his tone, "Knock out a few inmates, they might see fit to punish you in the same way as I."

Kratos found himself looking down at his hands, a sentiment which he did not fully understand. Kratos couldn't remember the last time he'd felt the need to use his own fists. He was so used to the feel of a sword's hilt, it was like second nature, an extension of his own hand.

"You're trying to punish yourself again, aren't you?" Esgal asked slightly peeved. "You've certainly had a death wish since you've gotten here. I won't let you die, do you hear me?"

"So you've said countless times before."

"I'm being serious. I won't!" Esgal said with a force that gave Kratos pause.

"What's in it for you if I don't die?" Kratos asked.

"Well," Esgal said looking away. It was the first sign of hesitancy he had seen in the man or was it something else… "I wish the world…was filled with more people like you. Here we are, a human and a half-elf talking as if it were an everyday occurrence. You're kind, honest—

"Stop," Kratos said as he stood up abruptly. "You only say those things because you haven't the slightest clue as to why I'm in here."

Kratos nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a large hand touch his shoulder from behind. The chains on Esgal's shackles clinked lightly. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't your fault."

He pulled away from Esgal. "How can you say things like that—you haven't the slightest clue what I did."

"I've always been a good reader of people. Sometimes it's a curse. You don't belong here. The only thing that keeps you here is your guilt. You're a duke after all. I bet all you have to do is say the word and you'd be out of here just like that. You've chosen to punish yourself. A cruel, heartless man would never be able to do such a thing."

"You've clearly misread me. You would say all this to a murderer?"

"I would," he answered unfazed.

Just then he heard as whistles were blown from uniformed men. They blew with what Kratos thought far too much fervor. It left his ears ringing.

"I guess it's time for us to return to our cells," Esgal said. "It really is a nice day—a shame."

As rowdy as the other men seemed, they eventually formed a single file and trudged in an orderly manner back inside. It was the first time Kratos had walked to his cell, but he seemed to instinctively know where to go much to his relief.

There was practically nothing left to do once in their minuscule cells. If he was going to do absolutely nothing, he would have rather done so outside. Esgal was already sitting on the top bunk reading a book that looked to have almost lost a fight with the shredder. The small paperback was so crinkled that the title was illegible. He looked down when two trays of food was roughly slid under the door through an opening. Esgal hadn't been lying before, the food looked exactly like slop. Why was it gray? And why did it not have a pleasant smell?

"They always save the worst for the half-elves. It's too bad you share a cell with me," Esgal said glancing over his book towards him.

"This is quite disgusting," Kratos commented as he squatted down to get a closer look. Perhaps he'd be able to discern just what it was.

"Hey," Esgal said setting his book aside, "Maybe you could use your connections and get us—you some real food."

Kratos looked at the other wearily, "I don't have any connections. At least not in a prison."

"Hm? Really? But I bet those guards might listen to you if you said something to them. They might treat you with some respect."

"I doubt it."

Esgal grinned and then shook his head. "You have a pleasant face, you're human, and you also just happen to be a duke—why don't you use that to your advantage for a change, huh? Ask one of those guards to get you some real food." He pushed his lengthy, wiry hair back once again.

"I can't just—

"Oh, just do it already. It's not going to hurt anything."

Kratos sighed inwardly at the insistent half-elf, but he had saved him earlier with his healing arts. It was the least he could do, he supposed. Perhaps he wouldn't have to watch yet another vomiting session the next day. Kratos banged on the door to the cell and very quickly a guard came by; he could very clearly see the uniformed man through the barred window.

"Yes, sir, do you require something?" the uniformed man asked.

"I'd like to eat some real food, not this…" Kratos struggled to find a word to describe the prison food without sounding too harsh, "Slop."

"Oh," the uniformed man said alarmed, "Is it not to your liking?" He stepped a little closer to the bars and spoke in lower tones. "Duke Bryant, sir, I'm not allowed to treat you any differently from anyone else, but…you can have my lunch if you like."

"Your lunch, but…" Kratos couldn't believe he was actually objecting to such a thing, but he did so, much to his silent annoyance.

"Oh, no, no, no, it's alright with me, sir, but perhaps it won't be up to your standards…" the man said nervously, "I mean…I guess I could find you something else?"

"I don't want to get you in trouble. That would be fine."

"Excellent, sir, excellent," the guard said a little too loudly and then he covered his mouth. "This is between you and me, right?"

Kratos could only nod.

"And you'll remember me when you get out, right?"

"Of course," Kratos said automatically.

The guard had a ridiculous grin on his face as he left to go obtain his lunch.

"See what I mean? It helps to be someone important," Esgal said with a smile.

"I do see what you mean now, but…I don't want to abuse my authority."

"Demanding edible food to eat is far from abusing your authority," Esgal said with a shrug.

It didn't take long for a lunch bag to be slid under the door as well. Instinctively, Kratos took the bag and set it on Esgal's bunk.

"Are you sure?" Esgal asked.

"You haven't eaten anything for two days—take all of it," Kratos said. He hadn't realized this until he found himself saying it. He could tell immediately that the other one was quite grateful.

He took the two trays of food and brought it over to his bed as he sat down. What smell that could be discerned from the questionable food was nonexistent by this time and there were no utensils—he would have to eat with his bare hands that were not in any way clean. Maybe he should have asked the man for something to eat with, he thought grudgingly. He wondered if he was to be forced to eat something in a dream. He prayed that he woke before then…

/

"Lord Kratos…?" a woman's voice said quietly as if she was afraid of being too loud.

Kratos awoke to a hazy image of Isabel gazing down at him with a look of concern. It was odd to see her without her trademark violin.

"How long has it been?" he asked, his voice rougher than usual probably from not using it in a while.

"Four days, my lord."

Her image slowly became clearer—it was quite a contrast from the dinginess of his dream. Her skin was like marble, her eyes were dark and depthless, and her voluminous hair caressed her face as she looked down upon him. He wondered why she was there. How long had she been watching him?

She clasped her hands in front of her heart. "We were all so worried about you, my lord."

"Who is 'we'?" Kratos asked as he sat up.

"General Jasper, Raphael, all the members of the staff who work here—me and my sisters."

That was pretty much everyone, Kratos thought. He didn't know what to say. He had no idea what was happening to him and he had no idea how to deal with it. He could not understand how he had been out for more than three days. If things continued as they were maybe he'd see a healer about it. He had a feeling that this was not a passing thing. He climbed out of bed then and Isabel stepped back keeping a respectable distance between them.

"Do you know where Jasper and Raphael are now?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry, my lord.

Just then, the door to his room crashed open and in stepped two armed angels. Kratos instinctively pulled Isabel behind him. He was completely unarmed at the moment, but he knew that he had his sword hidden under the bed. They were at a standstill at the moment. Perhaps they hadn't thought he'd be awake. Their swords were already drawn.

"What do you expect to do with those swords?" Kratos asked the two short cropped, white haired angels.

"We were sent here to kill you," one of them droned.

"And you're doing an excellent job of that so far," Kratos said back, "Who sent you?"

"We are not at liberty to say. We have you cornered now. If you don't make any trouble for us, we will make your death painless and—

"Vice versa," Kratos finished tiring of their speech.

He'd been in such situations before, but never without his Cruxis Crystal. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to have removed his crystal so soon, but he felt he'd be dishonoring his vow if he had not done so as quickly as possible. Without further hesitation, Kratos ducked down to grab his sword and whipped it cleanly out of its scabbard and brought it up defensively. His opponents were far stronger than him and he had not forgotten Isabel who stood behind him silently. He didn't have time to assess her stress levels at this point.

Grabbing Isabel's hand he rushed forth first and just barely parried their attacks and managed to make his way through them. He'd knew they'd make chase so he turned to them when he was a ways ahead of them.

"Eruption!" he yelled out and the ground beneath the two angels erupted momentarily in flames.

Kratos heard a gasp from Isabel, but he still continued forth. He stopped in his tracks when he saw several men ahead. He turned on his heels and went in the opposite direction running past his room and the still reeling angels.

"It's a dead end ahead," Isabel cried out breathlessly.

Kratos stopped again and then turned to her. "Then what is the best route out of here?"

She pointed towards where the men had come from.

"I was afraid you'd say that. Do you know how to fight?"

She shook her head "no". "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. Stay behind me. I will try something that will stop them all in their tracks."

Isabel's eyes grew big, but she obediently took her position behind him. He held his arm out in front of him, his palm parallel with his body. A bright light began to surround Kratos as his body prepared for one of the biggest attacks he knew. His power was greatly diminished since he was no longer an angel, but he would give this a try.

"Judgement!" he cried out vehemently.

A devastating light show rained down on the pursuing angels and they all fell down under its power. Kratos stumbled forth as well, his body unprepared for such a rapid release of energy. He fell to his knees in sudden weakness. His arms held him up, one hand still holding the sword; he'd forgotten to bring the scabbard.

"That was incredible," Isabel said quietly.

She stood in front of him now and Kratos looked up when she turned to him once again with eyes full of awe, but they quickly turned to worry.

"Lord Kratos, your nose, it's bleeding!" she said urgently.

His eyebrows crinkled a little as he lifted a hand to wipe underneath his nose and sure enough there was his blood, red and smeared.

"I suppose I shouldn't do that one too often," he said with a weary laugh, climbing to his feet once again. "But at the very least we got rid of—"

He paused as his eyes made out even more armed angels coming out of the same exit they were trying to get to.

"What are we going to do, my lord?" Isabel said seeing the exact thing as he.

"I'll have to fight them. If I can just distract them enough, you could make it through—

"No, I won't leave you," she said defiantly.

"You'd only be holding me back if you stayed," Kratos said gruffly.

Isabel frowned, "Alright."

"There are a lot of them though," Kratos said to himself.

His gripped tightened a little more on the hilt. He could feel his own fear mounting—he was only human after all. He brandished his sword confidently. The skills he had with the weapon would remain, angel or not. Instead of waiting for them to come all the way to him, he ran forth of his own accord and started in the center and worked his way forward.

The steady clinks of metal against metal along with shouts of pain was all one could hear at the moment. Kratos had no idea who had organized such a large group of angels and sent them after him, but they were all very intent on seeing his end. He had to take more care guarding his vital areas, areas that would probably kill him instantly; he did not have his shield. He had no idea where Isabel was, his sight was completely obscured by the angels. He hoped she'd made her escape by now.

Eventually, one sword shot through his shoulder blade and he stumbled back in pain. Then they pounced on him. It only took one mistake, he knew. He was on the defensive again, parrying and dodging like a wild animal. Blood flowed freely from the wound, but it didn't seem fatal.

"Leave him alone!" Kratos heard a familiar rough voice yell out angrily.

He couldn't see Jasper, but he must have come with his own men as he heard more feet moving towards his position. He began to back up as the angels' attentions before him was momentarily turned from him. Kratos looked behind himself and found Isabel right where he had left her. To be fair, he must not have distracted them nearly enough for her to make a run for it. They were distracted now as he moved towards her and took her hand once again to guide her.

"This is a dead end, remember?" Isabel said quietly but frantically as they moved onward.

Not only that, Kratos thought to himself, but there were more armed angels waiting for them. Was there another exit that he could take? She'd said it was a dead end, but…He saw a door to his right that led to a spiraling stairway. This would have to do for now. Kratos kicked the door open and flew down the stairs passing three doors before deciding to go into one of the main dens on the passageway. He yanked the door opened, pulling Isabel along as if she was a ragdoll and closing the door gently behind him. He was sure the angels from the previous hall had seen him come into the stairway, but they had not seen which room he had gone into along the stairway—he hoped this would be his saving grace. There was a long couch further into the room and he decided they'd wait behind there for the time being.

He was breathing hard now through his mouth; they'd be able to hear him, he realized for an agonizing second. He glanced over at Isabel who didn't seem the least bit fatigued. Perhaps half-elves also had a natural stamina advantage. He covered his mouth with his hand and forced himself to breathe exclusively from his nose. It felt as if his lungs would burst from the effort. Time began to slow and his vision began to blur as he waited for them to pass the door. How far away were they? He felt a gentle hand grasp the arm covering his mouth.

"They're gone," she whispered.

He didn't bother with speaking as he heaved through his mouth, desperately soaking in the sweet air. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so out of breath. When his breathing returned to tolerable levels, he peered over the couch cautiously.

"Wait…let me heal you," she said quietly as he climbed to his feet.

Kratos finally looked at her. "Save your energy, we're not out of the woods yet. Let's move before they come back."

She simply nodded and followed him as he lightly moved to the door. The door was silent as Kratos carefully opened it. Then he opened it until it was wide enough for them to fit through and he closed the door with equal caution. He began back up the stairs at a fairly quick pace, while making sure not to make a sound. They made it to the final door upstairs and he pushed it forth slowly. He quickly looked both ways, but the hallway was oddly silent. All the ruckus seemed to have vanished with a snap. Had Jasper's forces done away with what Kratos assumed were rebels so efficiently? He glanced behind himself to make sure Isabel was still there. Her expression remained neutral.

He began towards the other end of the hallway where the exit resided.

"Here," Isabel said quietly when they were about to pass yet another door.

She went to the gigantic door and opened it in the same cautious manner as Kratos, but her body was far too exposed. Before Kratos could protest, Isabel gasped and then slumped forward. He barely had time to notice an arrow peeking through her clothes from behind before he was taking cover behind the door. Isabel had fallen to the ground and she was motionless now.

"Shit," Kratos said under his breath. It would be nice to know what in the world was happening right now. Was the entire castle under siege? How much had he missed whilst he was asleep?

He took a quick glance around the door he still held the knob to. There were shouts in the distance. The fight from the hall must have moved here. The door itself was quite large and very noticeable while being opened. He bent down and carefully took Isabel into his arms and then so that he could free one of his arms, he placed her over one of his shoulders. She was about as tall as he, taking her along was not going to be a walk in the park, but he could not bring himself to leaving her in the doorway. The blood from her wound began to pour onto his clothes, but he ignored it.

He trudged forth trying to assess the situation. He hadn't moved more than a couple of paces before a roar of excitement erupted from the remaining men ahead. Someone must have won. He hoped it was in his favor. He continued to walk towards the cheering men. By the time he reached them, the excitement had died down. He found himself stepping over countless bodies. He hadn't expected there to be so much death…

"Kratos!" Jasper said loudly drawing his attention immediately.

He'd been gazing down at the carnage, but watched as Jasper made his way towards him passing his own men in the process.

"I didn't expect to see you. I'd gotten word that they'd planned to take you out while pinning my forces elsewhere in the castle. Seems everything worked out in our favor. Quite a lot has happened since…well, while you were unconscious."

"I can see that."

Jasper's eyes flicked to the woman he carried with him.

"Could you see to this woman's wellbeing?" Kratos asked when he noticed his glance.

Jasper came forth and then took her into his arms. "The casualties of war…I forget her name, but she was adamant about staying with you just in case you awoke. She thought you might need some assistance."

"She was quite helpful," Kratos said after a moment. "I can still easily get lost in this maze of a castle."

Jasper looked at him a moment longer. "I'm glad you're still alive. There's still a lot you have left to do. At least you chose a good time to wake up. Perhaps in the future, I'll leave guards at your door."

Kratos wondered how much of a difference it would make if their enemies wore Cruxis Crystals and they all would be much stronger than them. The guards would simply be fodder.

Jasper called one of his men over and handed Isabel over to the man. "Have the healers see her immediately." He was looking at Kratos intently now. "We have a lot to discuss."