Wow. It's finally over. Oh noes -cries- First off, I need to thank Spiritua for beta/proofreading all my chapters. She reads a lot of my stuff before it actually hits Fan Fiction; her advice is incredible. I'd also like to thank everyone who took their time out to review. I truly take the (sensible) comments to heart and use them to better my writing. The yaoi revisions will start after I finish When Students Become Teachers, or at least that's when I plan to start.
And this is the epilogue. I had a lot of fun writing this. I cut out some parts, but it's still eight pages long. Hee hee. Sorry if it's too long, but I think it's worth it. Took a little while to get started. Damn Writer's Block. Then I turned on the perfect playlist and the words began to flow. I put my heart and soul into this chapter, and I hope you can sense it. Typed it up in about three or four hours O.o
If it helps, try listening to some of the songs from my playlist: Fields of Hope from Gundam SEED, Eternal Snow from Full Moon Wo Sagashite, Myself from Full Moon Wo Sagashite, Ghost of You by My Chemical Romance, and Only Hope by Mandy Moore. Those should put you in the mood.
Alright, I'll stop rambling. Enjoy the epilogue ♥
I do not own Tales of Symphonia. If I did, Welgaia's elevator key would have been in Lloyd's pocket. (I hate the Welgaia dungeon.)
In a small cottage somewhere within the Iselia forest, sat a swordsman with a legendary past and a dull present, alone: just the way he liked it. Time seemed to pass him by; he could easily pass for late thirties as age could not touch his skin. The blood of an angel was indeed unique and he became the source of unwanted attention, the foundation of many lies, and the unwilling origin of enough scandals to last a lifetime, adopting a hostile facade none would imagine him possessing, and passing away an endless number of research opportunities. He had worked so hard to end such research, but some people would never learn.
The rainfall hadn't let up, pounding against the roof with fury and tapping the thin glass windows in indignation, showing no signs of ceasing. And no one could figure out why. Most were just content knowing the poor weather had nothing to do with the Yggdrasill Tree or Mana; what would the world do if it needed to be saved yet again? This time of the year was supposed to be radiate, showing life in the fullest extent of its glory: flowers blooming and trees gleaming with strong green leaves, swaying in the brisk breezes as nature ran its wondrous course. But the flowers refused to unfold, the trees grew almost reluctantly and their leaves were a combination of green and brown, half dead, and the air remained stale, unpleasant to breath, unpleasant to smell. Nature felt so unnatural.
Early mornings weren't as beautiful as they used to be; the sun no longer rose with that same bright glow he remembered all those years ago, shining over the lands with a sense of deliverance that made him glad to be alive. To him, and many others, the sun had mellowed down to something with strength that could easily be rivaled by a single candle light, and occasionally, he'd catch himself staring at it with disappointment, wondering what went wrong. Even the moon and stars became lusterless, somewhat of an eyesore, as if they no longer wished to brighten a world with such a tainted past. Theoretically, everyone knew it was impossible for the stars had no feelings, but his eyes had seen so much; it became difficult to separate fact from fiction, impossible from the possible, truth and lies.
A rapid knocking at his door broke his train of thought. He marked the page in the book he had been reading and set it aside. Standing to his feet, he muttered his suspicions about the reason for the disturbance as he walked over to the wooden door. Visitors were scarce, but he made little to no complaints. It was in solitude that he did his best thinking, hoping that somehow the loneliness would bring him closer to the ideals and reasoning of his father. He had saved the world, but now it was time to save himself.
Dull brown eyes widened in shock as Lloyd looked over his soggy visitant who was breathing heavy, supporting his body on a single knee and palm. There stood a half elf with drenched clothing and drooping silver locks, chest rising and falling in rapid succession as he tried to regulate his respirations. His clothing was filthy; dirt smeared all over his shirt and pants, and his boots were covered in mud. He looked up to his long-time friend and somehow found the strength to stand, supporting his weight against the door frame. He wiped away raindrops from his disheveled face; his cheeks burned as the heat flashes tried to subside.
Time caressed him the same way it did Lloyd, due to his elven blood; age marked him as sixty two years old, but those who had no knowledge of his birth date considered him around the age of twenty. He had grown some, gaining height to rival the swordsman's, but he missed by a few inches. His hair grew long, though he made it a priority to keep it somewhat short, and his facial features ripened like a priceless fruit.
"Ge-Genis!" The swordsman's voice matured, merely an octave higher than his father's. Whenever he spoke, memories of Kratos flooded the minds of those who knew him. They tried to hide the pain in their faces, but Lloyd caught every tear, heard every whimper, and played audience to every cry, and watched every breakdown; after a while, he learned to ignore it. "What's wrong?!" he asked, moving outside to help the half elf.
Genis declined the assistance, shaking his head as he tried to turn his mumbling into understandable articulations. "I'm fine..." He straightened his body, scanning his surroundings with icy blue eyes as if the environment were unfamiliar; in fact, he was the most frequent visitor to the Irving-Aurion residence, if not the only. "I-I just got back from-" Bringing his free hand to his mouth, Genis coughed from the back of his throat. His eyes shut in pain as he waited for the migraine to lessen.
"Come inside," said Lloyd as he slid to the side.
"No. We wouldn't be here for long anyway," he replied, steadying his breath and placed his hand to his pounding heart.
"What? Why?"
"I just got back from the Renegade Base in Triet. Derris Kharlan is back! It's entering our gravitational pull as we speak!" Genis' arms waved excitedly and his face brightened in hopes of the swordsman following suit.
Lloyd's heart stopped and he found himself unable to speak, though billions of words congregated on his tongue's tip. No words needed to be spoken. He found himself stuck between a laugh of joy and a grimace of pain with his mouth wide open, not knowing what to expect. So many years had passed, more than enough time for things to change beyond belief; would he be pleased with the changes? Would the planet play host to a dream come true? Does... Dad even remember me?
"Dad..."
The half elf grew irritated with his companion's lack of movement. Grabbing Lloyd's arm, he tightened the grip and pulled him out of the house with godly force, closing the door afterwards. His strength was no where near as extensive as the swordsman's, but in his current state, Lloyd could be moved by wind, and his mind was in something that could only be described to others as a deep daze.
"Come on!" exclaimed the Mana Master as he pulled Lloyd into the pouring rain; his steps started out slow before he initiated a full sprint, ending up in a run. Lloyd's feet moved in the direction Genis lead, but his mind remained as cluttered as ever, in a zombie-like state.
"...Dad..."
- - - - - -
Fighting the fierce weather, they navigated through thick storm clouds on separate rhearids. Rain descended with an even stronger intensity than it did at Lloyd's cottage as the storm grew more powerful. Their hands slipped on the controls, as well as restrained their vision; Time played tricks on their senses, and each had a few close calls along the way. It had been a long time since either laid eyes on such a thing or even operated one for that matter. Genis kept an eye on his friend, concerned for his safety; the Eternal Swordsman hadn't said a word since they left the cottage. The dark silence started to bother him; rainfall was the only song he heard the entire ride.
It was like walking into a memory. They approached the Tower of Salvation with mixed emotions. Genis was the first to land and waited impatiently for Lloyd to follow, which he did after a few seconds of hesitation. The two were not alone: at the base of the stairs stood a small group of people, more blurry memories that slowly sharpened in Lloyd's head; some were more familiar than others, but the ones he remembered the most vividly gave him a small sense of solace.
"I never wanted to see this place again." Raine stood with her face to the sky, gazing upon the remnants of the Tower. She found it ironic that once, many decades ago, millions worshiped it as the "salvation" of the worlds, including herself. Tightening the grip on her umbrella, she tilted her head skyward a bit more; droplets got into her eyes but she found herself rather tolerate, and continued inspecting history with an aged icy blue gaze. Time kissed her the same as her brother, but her age showed with a bit more vibrancy. Her silver locks cascaded well down her back, reaching her petite waist, though she usually kept it wrapped in a band. Her attire had changed from orange jackets and white shirts to long dresses and lab coats; she aided the Renegades in monitoring the Yggdrasill Tree as well as Mana, though she wanted nothing more to do with either of them.
"... Me either, Professor." Next to Raine stood an angel, hands clasped in their familiar form while grasping a second umbrella. Shoulder length blonde hair was braided into a messy bun and bound in place with a band. Her diamond blue eyes were glued to the tower in shock, as if she were expected to place her hand upon an Oracle Stone and sacrifice her heart and memories for the greater good of the masses. She wore a simple Spring dress with flat shoes that sank into the mud, but it was the least of her worries. Her barely aged face seemed as if chiseled in stone; she managed to retain her youth, thanks to the Cruxis Crystal and Rune Crest on her chest; they were the only things keeping her alive, the only things keeping her from turning into the only thing worse than a lifeless angel: an exsphere. Melancholy memories flooded her mind: battles with witches and harpies and wolves, being chased by assassins, imposters, hiding fatal secrets, lessons on the Angelic language and Spiritua's journeys, releasing seals, being born to die, and the gentle kiss of Toxicosis. And soon, tears followed. They merely mixed with the rain. The ex-Chosen thought it was better that way.
Both turned to lay eyes on the swordsman neither had seen in what felt like a thousand eternities. Lloyd and Colette were engaged to marry, under one condition: Colette was asked to wait for Kratos' return so that he could take part in his son's marriage. And she waited, and continued to wait, and had been waiting for fifty years to take his hand in holy matrimony; time was but a small price to pay for him.
"Lloyd..." Diamond eyes brightened and her stone face softened. Somehow, a smile broke through. Had it been years ago, she would have run into his embrace, but maturity slowed her pace, and she began walking to meet him half way.
Her voice was like the sun after the storm, but he found himself unable to share in her smile. His gaze shifted from his companions to the sky as he waited for the object of attraction to come into view. She covered him in her umbrella, even though he was completely soaked.
The Sage siblings quarreled through their icy blue eyes. Genis won the fight and Raine backed off with a sigh, returning her sights to the gray skies. "The planet should become visual within a matter of moments," said the Professor in a voice that made them all feel like they were back in time, back in Iselia learning about the Ancient Kharlan War and pacts between a Goddess that never existed and fallen heroes.
And that's when sparks of violet and plum broke through the gray; at first, in small sections, but soon, it covered the sky as it did five decades ago. Something inside each of them gave the sudden urge to fall to their knees, to ready their weapons against a mass of angels, to prepare to come face to face with Yggdrasill, to resurrect the Giant Kharlan Tree, to save the Chosen. They readied their eyes to view thousands upon thousands of caskets that hovered inside. But nothing could prepared them for the real horror that awaited.
Lloyd was the first to step closer, ascending the stairs with his eyes closed. His feet were surprisingly nimble, for they remembered these steps from long ago. The others found the strength to follow; Raine was next, followed by Genis, and Colette lagged behind, for good reason. The few surviving Renegades climbed the stairs, and all stopped before the teleporter.
For the first time in fifty years, the teleporter glowed and Colette suppressed a scream that could have easily deafened everyone within earshot. Raine put her hand on the ex-Chosen's shoulder and gave a sympathetic nod. Lloyd turned away, raising his hand to the sky to show the Ring of the Pact. He stepped on the teleporter without a glance back and disappeared into thin air. Dad, I'm coming.
The first thing they noticed was a smell to rival all distasteful aromas. Each put a hand to his nose, turning away to grimace in pain and their nostrils cried out in protest. The same darkness greeted the group just as it had the Seraphim. Silence echoed in the halls, and no signs of life remained; light was almost as scarce as their hope of finding survivors. Colette looked to the Professor, and the Professor to Lloyd, who reverted back to his lifeless gaze as his brown orbs scanned a fifty year old incubus. Genis stepped closer to his friend, ready to support in any way he could. They said nothing; the Renegades walked ahead, taking notes and pictures with a special camera. Had the swordsman not been so out of it, he would have snapped at them for treating Derris Kharlan like a tourist attraction.
"...Oh no!" gasped Colette with her hand to her chest. In front of her lay a casket she prayed was unoccupied.
Catching the words, Lloyd broke from his daze and eyed the Chosen with a strange glint in his gaze. He walked over to her and almost fell to his knees when he caught sight of a casket.
"Dear Martel... please."
Genis was the one to ask. "Whose casket is it?"
Colette was the one to answer. "I-I don't know."
"... Don't even think about opening it." Raine stepped up behind them, averting her eyes from the casket as it pained her almost as much as the swordsman. Her brother looked at her with surprise, forgetting for a moment that the Professor possessed the unique ability to read minds: an ability that strengthened during times when the hearts of others were in their most fragile state.
On top of the casket sat an old booklet, a dusty quill, an inkpot with dried ink, and another object from their distant memories that they would have preferred stay distant. The Crystal had lost most of its luster, but the aura it let off was enough to make their hearts skip.
"What's this?" Colette picked up the booklet and flipped through the first few pages. Her head shot to the side as she coughed away dust. When her breathing became steady, she turned back and tried to read the first few words. "...se'laia-" She stopped reading aloud when she finally realized it was in the Angelic language, but recognized the handwriting. "This is.. Kratos' handwriting."
Lloyd's ears perked up and he slid to Colette's side. She handed over the journal, trying to make eye contact, but the swordsman's eyes stayed glued to the journal's cover. His fingers touched the binding, caressing it as if the journal were a brittle child. He flipped through the book himself, confirming his father's beautiful handwriting. Genis and Raine looked on in anticipation and waited for him to make the next move.
"Dad." Starting from the back, Lloyd looked for the last entry. After a few heavy moments of searching, he found it and looked around for a date, finding none.
Colette sensed something from the journal; something horrible, something heartbreaking, something dangerous. She found herself fighting blind fear, and swallowed twice before saying, "Lloyd, you don't have to read it now. You can wait unti-"
He ignored the advice, and squinted his eyes to translate the last written words of his father:
"This is wishful thinking, but I'm writing this regardless. Something inside my heart tells me you're still alive; Fate has shown me once before that I've no reason to reject it. By the time you read this and if all has gone as planned, I will have already passed away. This is for reasons of my own; please forgive me if you feel I've made another terrible mistake. Fourteen years passed since I had last saw you, and I must admit, when I finally did, it warmed my bitter heart. Anna is pleased with you, as am I.
I pray you are enjoying your life in the new world, living on in a peaceful environment. You've surpassed me, not only in swordsmanship, but in so much more; it took me four thousand years to realize a mistake while you did so in a fraction of the time. You are my pride and joy. I wish I had told you sooner, with my own lips. Thank you for acknowledging me as your father.
I died of my own free will; please do not think ill of Yuan for he only honored my final wish. I desired to die with my humanity and my dignity, so no Aionis remains in my body. If my Cruxis Crystal has not been destroyed, please do so. And if you see Yuan, thank him for me."
And that's when Time stopped, and not a word was said; but the story words could not tell, the silence told. Destiny, Time, and Fate looked upon them as they reviewed the aftermath of their own doings, and still, They were pleased. They found nothing wrong: to Them, everything had gone as planned.
Raine took in a deep breath, turning away from them all. Colette broke down and wept like a heartbroken widow. Genis looked at his friend with wide icy blue blues, waiting for Lloyd to lash out in anger, to fall to his knees, to scream, to yell, to mourn like he never mourned before, but none of the above occurred.
"Yuan... where's Yuan?" were the first words that escaped Lloyd's lips and he gripped the journal. "Where's Yuan?!" Now his question escalated into a demand. "WHER-"
His demand was met. "Here he is," said a Renegade. Surrounding him were a few of his colleagues; their hands were occupied with something that resembled the shape of a body. One was holding a familiar black cape.
The swordsman ran to them, pushing his way through the small crowd and stopped before the body of a Seraph. He was being carried by three Renegades; his arms drooped lifelessly along the sides, dirty cerulean hair dangled everywhere, and his mouth was partially opened. But the worse part was the fact that his aquamarine eyes were wide open, pupils dilated to the size of a pin needle.
"Yuan!" Lloyd screamed at the deceased body. Everyone shook. "YUAN!"
His cries echoed through the halls and empty corridors of Derris Kharlan. "...Yuan!"
The sky fell and crushed the last bits of hope he had laying dormant in his heart. "...Yuan..."
Grief and sorrow were once again resurrected in the worse ways imaginable. "...Yuan..."
"...Yuan.."
She knew no one else would do it. "We need to retrieve the bodies. For now, take both of them to the Flanoir Base," Raine ordered. "Not a word is to be spoken of this to anyone. The less that's known, the better."
The Renegades followed her orders and some broke away to retrieve Kratos' casket. Lloyd couldn't watch. He wouldn't watch.
"What to do with these?" one asked, referring to the inkpot, quill, and Cruxis Crystal.
"They rightfully belong to Lloyd, but give them to me for the time being. I'll return them to him when the time is right. But not now."
And as the bodies were being taken from Derris Kharlan, the atmosphere still echoed with the bitter sounds of mourning and two names that none could forget.
"Kratos. Yuan. Why?"
- - - - - -
At Raine's request, news of the Seraph's bodies remained something of a secret, though questions of Derris Kharlan's appearance were asked. The Professor, being the only one capable and willing to do an interview, explained everything with watered down details, saying that Derris Kharlan is merely a star, one of the largest in the solar system, and was due to come into orbit every fifty years. The public seemed satisfied, and that was enough to please her. The group was silently thankfully for Professor Raine Sage coming to the rescue once again. So, after a while, everything return to normal.
Kratos was buried before Origin's seal. Heimdall itself had gone through some changes, as some half elves were brave enough to move, and soon after, others followed. They welcomed the ninth companion with open arms and lead a grand funeral march through the Forrest of Elves. The animals scurried from the path; birds called out to the sky, wolves howled, questioning the Goddess Martel, and tree blocked most of the light, leaving shadows across the ground. He finally got his roses, the weeping mourners, a pastor, and his son. They cried and trickled away one by one, and only the original group felt compelled to remain a bit longer, along with some stray Renegades.
Yuan was left in the care of the Renegades. They debated on where to let him rest: the Flanoir Base or the Triet Base. One even brought up the idea of Remote Island Ranch, where Botta's remains lay. The dispute was fiery, but Raine broke it up, demanding he be buried before the Great Seed; where else but to let him lay with his fiancé? So another funeral was arranged within a few days of Kratos' and the mourners returned once again, finding a few stray tears to shed. They threw some more roses on top of the custom made casket. The Elder of Heimdall spoke at his funeral and the Storyteller paid a visit. Yuan's Cruxis Crystal was removed just moments before his final descent, and Lloyd destroyed it on site. He had yet to destroy his father's.
Sheena had finally shown her face for the first time in ages to pay her last respects to the Seraphim. Time was kind to her. She maintained her beauty, but grief seemed to drown it out. All her kimonos were made in some shade of gray or black, and she finally let her hair down; its soul purpose was to shield her face. She kept to Mizuho, and busied herself with its care. The town was too dense to notice the way her face grimed more and more with each passing moment, every time she looked at Zelos' grave, located somewhere near the river. They questioned her on her reasons for not attending the return of Derris Kharlan at the Tower of Salvation, but she avoided the answer as best she could. Raine knew why, and she kept it secret from the others, feeling rather disappointed at how quickly they'd forgotten the past. The Planet of Mana and Life was also the Planet of Death; that Tower of Salvation was in fact the Tower of Damnation.
- - - - - -
It was a few weeks later when Colette decided to pay a visit to her fiancé's cottage. Raine gave the ex Chosen the encouraging speech she needed. She wanted to know the status of their engagement: would Lloyd call it off due to the death of his father? Surely, the swordsman wouldn't be so cruel as to do a thing, and Kratos wouldn't be happy with such a reason. It pained her much to pry, but she just had to know for she loved him, and if he wanted to wait for his heart to heal, she'd wait. She'd wait forever and ever; with her Crystal and his angelic blood, they both had forever. But how long is forever?
She decided to wear a more cheerful outfit: all white with hints of lavender along the arms. With a skip in her step, she made her way through the familiar Iselia forest, speeding up when his porch came into view, and a smile spread across her face. In fact, Colette played a major part in the design for his cottage; they built it together, the dream house they planned to raise a family in, but until legally married, she was forbidden to live with him. Phaidra's grave was cold, yet Colette felt as if her grandmother's spirit would arrest her the moment the ex-Chosen made a mistake. But it was of little matter; soon, they'd be together, and together they'd find out the length of forever. If only she had realized forever ended on that day.
Colette jumped up the porch steps and stopped before his door. She raised her hand, balled up a petite fist, and knocked on the door. Her smile remained unaltered as she waited. Another knock, then two, then three, then four. She finally realized the silence; he wasn't moving around. Maybe he wasn't home, but it was Sunday, and Lloyd wasn't known for leaving his home for anything other than food and solemn visits to his deceased drawven father's estate. Why the boy moved when Dirk died remained a mystery, and despite the number of times he was asked, it remained as such.
Now she was worried.
"Lloyd?" called the angel from the other side of the door.
Silence.
"Lloyd...?!"
No answer.
"Lloyd!"
Grabbing the doorknob, she twisted it to the side with enough angelic force to shatter it. To her relief, the door was unlocked, and she ran inside, looking around in the living room at first, then the kitchen, then the bathroom. Maybe the swordsman had fallen, knocking himself unconscious. Or maybe he had been assaulted the night before by bandits; a revolt? No, of course not. With his experience in combat, Lloyd could easily tear any bandit to shreds. There was even the possibility that he heard the door, but refused to answer. But why?
Finally, she made her way upstairs and into his bedroom. She prepared herself a moment, inspecting her own attire and straightened her hair before knocking.
"Lloyd? Are you in here?" she asked.
No reply.
"I'm coming in."
And when she did, she wished she hadn't. Lloyd lay on his bed with his arms out to the side, his father's journal across his chest, and white tear streaks down his face as if he had been crying the night before. Eyes closed, he gave the illusion of deep slumber. At first, she gasped with her hands to mouth, thinking he was asleep, but closer inspection proved otherwise. Something was wrong.
He wasn't... breathing.
Colette stepped to his bedside, staring at his face for any signs of life. Fear overtook her, and she shook his shoulder, calling his name into the atmosphere. But he didn't answer. He didn't wake up. He never would again.
Her screams could be heard from the village of Iselia, to the dry sands of Triet, to the roaring seas of Palmacosta, through the sturdy stonewalls of Meltokio. The sound waves vibrated through the glass windows, causing them to shatter and scatter across the grounds; each piece resembled a part of her now broken heart. And even if she screamed twice as loudly, it still wouldn't be enough. It would never be enough.
Aurion Bloodline: None That Remain.
- - - - - -
She cried enough tears to drown herself in, and had they not sunken into the soft dirt, she probably would have. It had been a long time since she cried so many times in succession, not exactly a skill she was proud of. Colette found temporary comfort in her half elven friends; they made it a priority to stay in contact as much as possible. The would-be widow was unable to make the funeral preparation alone; her knees caved in at the mere mention of the swordsman's name. With the aid of the Professor, a third funeral was arranged. Not too many people attended, but Colette received enough flowers to fill his cottage. Their fragrant smell gave her no solace. If only Raine could revitalize a broken heart.
"On-...once upon a time, there existed a tree that was the source of all mana. A war however caused this tree to wither away, and a hero's life was sacrificed...in... order... to take... its... place.." The words shot holes through her soul, yet she could not stop retelling the world's most famous tale.
"Colette..." Raine stepped closer to the mourner, hesitate to touch. Her small heels dug into the moist grass and her black dress swayed in the gentle breezes. There were some lessons that could not be taught in school for no textbooks could accurately convey such profound emotions; those lessons had to be learned first hand.
"Sacrificed... a life was sacrificed. And the Goddess grieved, disappearing unto the Heavens-" She lifted her tear-filled diamond blue eyes to the skies as if she were searching for a distant paradise called Heaven through her black veil.
Genis grew worried; he had his own grief to deal with, and now Colette was adding to the pile. "-Colette!"
"But there is no Heaven." Colette dropped to her knees, breaking the fall with black gloved hands. She shook her head from side to side, trying to stop the tears from falling."There is no place for us. There is no place for heroes and angels."
"Yes there is, Colette. It's just not here."
Finally, she asked the question that had been on her spirit since the Regeneration: the question she couldn't find an answer to, the one that turned her dreams into nightmares, her hopes into doubts, her smiles into frowns, her tears to blood, and her laughs into cries. "What is to become of me?"
But, sadly, neither Genis nor Raine could give her a solution. All they could do is join together and cry.
- - - - - -
Now each angel had been put to eternal rest, and only one remained. The Chosen was the last with the reluctant will to survive, fueled by the memories of her fiancé, her mercenary, her competition, and her first assassin. In her hands was a map of the new world. Pins marked the graves of each fallen hero. After staring at it for a while, she noticed something unusual, but cruel in her own mind. Her already sorrow worn diamond eyes filled with tears once again, and she threw the paper down in outrage, burying her face in her hands.
"Colette!" Raine, who had been nearby, ran to the blonde and wrapped her arms around the angel's shoulders.
"Why?! Why can't the memories just leave me alone? Why just me?"
"What are you talking about?" Reaching over, she picked up the map and smoothed out the wrinkles. When she saw it, she sighed, tightening her embrace as she suppressed her own tears. Colette broke into sobs; her petite frame shook spastically. And there was nothing Raine could do.
For on the map of the new world, the caskets of the deceased angels, Kratos, Yuan, Zelos, and Lloyd, formed a cross.
- - - - - -
"What will become of me, Professor?"
"I don't know, dear. Only time will tell."
How does it feel to be All That Remains?
And thus ends Angelic Sacrifice: Them That Remain. Whoa, that was intense! The ending almost made me cry, lol. But, for some odd reason, I had the urge to end it with a question. Think I hit my mark. Question mark that is. -insert rimshot- So, like, in case you're wondering about Regal and Presea, they were cut. One reason being I wanted the ending to revolve around those who were in contact with Kratos and Yuan the most. Second reason being the chapter would have been ten or more pages. Sheena and Zelos were added for obvious reasons. Poor Sheena -snuggles Sheena plushie-
Gah. Poor Yuan. His body didn't decompose and his eyes were wide open when he died! Oh noes! That's a sight to sleep on. But at least he was properly buried next to what's left of Martel. -insert awws- Kratos' last entry made me sniffle. "You are my pride and joy." It's a talent to make yourself cry when writing. LOL.
I kinda feel bad for what I did to Colette: having Lloyd die before they married. Waiting fifty years to get married? That's a pretty long time. Gotta have a lot of love and patience to do something like that. But having her pass away would have been overkill, wouldn't you agree? And eternal life is the worse punishment I could think of for her.
So it seems that Kratos and Lloyd/Anna's exspheres were never destroyed. Why? -shrug- He ran out of time. No, I'm joking. There's a deeper significance to that, and I'll leave it to your imagination. The cross... there's a deeper meaning to that too, but I shall also leave that to your imagination. It was something of a last minute decision. Last minute meaning it popped into my head during English class yesterday xD
Once again, thank you all for reading. Until next time, TOOTLES. ♥