Eternal Peace

The rain splashed lightly on the surface of the earth as the young brunette stared at the dark sky, hidden by the dreary shadow of foreboding grey and black clouds. His breathing was ragged as he watched each drop of water fall from the heavens, slowed by the perpetual agony of father time, who had slowed the passing of each painful second for the pleasure of tormenting the dual swordsman. He chuckled slightly after realizing that dwelling on the empty portion of the glass would only bring further sorrow and was virtually useless at this point. He was always the optimist of the group; keeping smiles on the worn and weary travelers with whom he had accompanied on this long journey of regeneration. Staring up at the cotton blanket across the sun that had long ago disappeared, he came to the conclusion that such facts no longer mattered.

His thoughts shifted to his family as he averted his tear stained eyes. He was almost certain that the mother he never knew was watching at that very moment and probably shared in the crying of strained tears as well. She was surely looking down on him in his suffering and would no doubt weep for her only son. He felt ashamed and could no longer allow his gaze to rest in her direction. Anna, Lloyd thought, was an angel of another kind. One worthy of her title. She was a mother who begged for death so that her child might live. Such would soon be in vain. Her death had been avenged when Kvar had fallen at both his blade and the blade of his father, but her sacrifice would be worthless should the bleeding beneath the warrior's hands continue.

He clutched his chest and winced as the crimson liquid streamed between his fingers. His eyes misted over as he became lost in the memories of time spent with his father. Kratos had come to fight by his son's side after fourteen years of separation. Although, Lloyd only thought of the man as a mentor before learning of his true identity. His father was willing to give up his life to insure that Lloyd's dreams became a reality, but the boy was lucky enough to have his father saved by a man whom he and his friends had thought to be an enemy. The eternal swordsman thought that he would be cast back into the life of an orphan when the man left to insure no future influence of Cruxis. However, Kratos' words remained with him and still echoed in the silence of his thoughts...

"Don't die before I do... my son..."

Lloyd would betray his father's request and fall to an enemy that no one would have ever suspected. He cringed as he twisted his head to gaze upon the blood-covered blade that had inflicted such a mortal wound upon his body. Still glowing in a faint red light, the sword was the same that was bestowed upon him by the man who was once a traitor, a friend, a brother, a teacher, and in hidden truth... his father. He reached for it and brushed his fingers on the warm hilt of the awe-inspiring weapon. The blade of the Flamberge seemed to glow faintly for a single second as thought trying to reach out to him as well, as though it were trying to say something. His lids, heavy with fatigue and sorrow, slowly slid to a close and embraced the teen in darkness where only a faint red glow could be seen. The words of Kratos once more echoed in his mind and a tear trailed down his face.

"Dad..."

His voice was merely a whisper that seemed to carry on a slight breeze which fought through the rain that drenched the poor boy and continued to puddle with the ever-draining blood on the ground. He smiled slightly at the sight, knowing that the horrific pain that pulsated throughout his entire body would soon come to an end. He found that his entire life seemed to be passing silently before his fading eyes. It was an odd sensation. He might compare it to watching the images on a projector screen through a frosted window. Everything was slowly growing cold. Tears tread down his face as he watched the destruction of so many homes and the ending of so many innocent lives caused by his foolish actions and decisions. But the words of the dwarf who had raised him seemed to be the only sound present. The words slowly repeated in his mind...

"Even removing an Exsphere with a key crest is dangerous..."

This was most certainly true. It was a fact he had learned upon attempts to dispose of the very last of the Exspheres. His own. It pained him in knowing that it contained the soul of his departed mother. But he knew also, that she could never truly rest in peace while still imprisoned in the glittering gem. He wanted nothing more than to grant Anna her freedom. After giving so much for him, he felt that it was the least he could do and perhaps give her a reason to be proud of him.

However, he soon learned that despite his status as an eternal swordsman, his strength, and even the influence of Origin himself, he could not keep control of the overwhelming destructive urge that had taken hold of his mind. The only human thoughts left within his throbbing skull were that all those he cared about were in danger. He felt the bloodlust and need to kill tightening its grip and digging deep into his thoughts as his body fought to become the monster he was doomed to be. His will would soon fall in defeat to these unnatural instincts. There was no doubt about that. His best friend Genis, his dear friend Colette, Sheena who was originally an enemy and now an ally, Regal and Raine whom he had learned to look up to as older siblings, and even Presea were all in grave danger. He hoped that they could overcome and defeat him, but knew that none would be able to kill their young swordsman friend.

Fearing for them all, he used all of his remaining will to stand his ground and push back the urges. For a moment, he had been able to regain control of himself. Knowing now what had to be done, Lloyd took up the very sword that had saved him in the past and delivered a fatal blow to his chest. Easily piercing the skin on contact and slicing through what little protection his bones allowed, he cried out in pain only to find that his voice had caught in his throat and came out as a muffled gasp. He had fallen to his knees and remained in that position, unable to move. At some point, he somehow managed to gain just enough strength to remove the weapon and awaited death to take him.

He felt the sensation of a familiar warmth pulling him into an incredibly painful embrace, awakening him from the sudden flashback of his final actions. He forced his eyes to ease open and gasped out in shock and pain at the blurred sight before him. Lloyd stared in awe at the purple figure before him and reached a hand up to touch the auburn mess atop the man whom he thought he would never see again. The red-clad swordsman cried tears of true agony at the thought of his father, Kratos being there to witness the death of the last of his family. His only son was dying in his arms, and his pain was evident in the tears that fell from his ruby eyes. The boy knew that there was nothing either swordsman could do. Lloyd still felt the agonizing urges to kill in the back of his mind and took to heart the fact that they would forever remain if he managed to survive. He was certain that Kratos knew this as well.

Lloyd forced a smile as he heard the mutterings of spells being desperately cast to heal the fading youth. It was all in vain however. He felt dazed as his body slowly became numb. This was all that Kratos' magic had managed, but to Lloyd, that in itself was a miracle. He had also gained some strength from the healing arts of the mercenary. Looking into the desperate eyes of his father, Lloyd smiled and embraced his elder as tears escaped in a flood of a pain that had been hidden beneath that of the physical wound caused by the impalement of his own sword.

"Don't... die... Lloyd..."

Kratos' words were choked and pained, though he spoke them nonetheless. His body shook in a pain that he had only experienced once before. When he had been forced to kill Anna and watch her die by his sword. His son took note of the change and smiled weakly at his father, his strength fading suddenly. Locking eyes with him, Lloyd felt the need to speak the words he had held for far too long...

"I love you, dad..."

Kratos shouted to Lloyd when the boy fell limp in his arms. He looked to his son through eyes clouded by tears which were hidden by the pouring rain that seemed to reflect his limitless sorrow. Tightening his embrace he caught sight of the blood-soaked blade that rested just within reach of his beloved son. He went numb at the notion that it was the very sword he had presented to his only child to show his immeasurable pride in young Lloyd. The purist misery overtook him as his eyes shifted to the cold corpse of his only son, whose lifeless body lay limp in his arms. There was nothing left for him... His pride and joy had been taken from him and he was once more alone...

"Lloyd..."

He laid his son by his side and absently reached for the very sword that ended the boy's life. He held it to the sky and watched the rain slowly remove the blood of his child, which streamed down the blade and onto is hand. The hand that had once wielded the very same blade with pride. The blade once used to save the boy beside him. The boy who was his only son. His own sword, the Flamberge had taken his son from him.

"I... love you too... Lloyd... my son..."

His voice trailed as he repositioned the blade and plunged it deep into his chest. Blood poured from the gaping wound and Kratos fell limply by the side of his fallen child. Just like Lloyd, he smiled as his vision faded and the last of his life dissipated from his body.