DISCLAIMER: I do not own Tales of Symphonia, its characters, its plot, etc.

SPOILERS: Free use of information from the whole of the first game. References to second game may be noted in future chapters.

PAIRINGS: KratosxAnna. Eventual ZelosxLloyd. Other pairings TBA.

NOTE: This story is not a novelization of the video game, but it will go through the entire game.

CONCEPT: CessoResito and heartofShou

WRITTEN BY: heartofShou

Ripple Effect

"Drop a pebble in the water: in a minute you forget,

But there's little waves a-flowing, and there's ripples circling yet,

And those little waves a-flowing to a great big wave have grown;

You've disturbed a mighty river just by dropping in a stone."

-James W. Foley, Drop a Pebble in the Water

Chapter One: The Meddling of a Dwarf

Heavy boots pounded their way through unknown terrain.

On one hand, the red-haired man desperately tried to keep his eyes on the fleeing figures before him. The sight of that lone back, with the tiny wiggling form clasped tightly in her arms, gave him the strength to keep breathing. On the other hand though-

He sucked in a gasp as cold metal nipped at him. Growling a curse, he once more turned on his heel to face his opponents and do battle. The hilt of his own sword was a heavy- yet comforting- weight in his hand. "Noishe!" he called on ahead. "Get them out of here!" There was no more time for words as the indistinguishable Desians charged at him. He let his sword fly through air and flesh without hesitation. This was, after all, what his swordsman skill had originally been made for- protecting those he loved. And right now that label only applied to two people in the entire two worlds; two people that were right now depending on him more than ever.

A shrill- child's- cry split into the dark night, followed by an enraged- but helpless- scream, and something froze inside him. The last Desian body fell, but he now recognized it for what it was.

A diversion.

Of course they had known that such a small unit would have no hopes of defeating him. So they had sent these soldiers as decoys, a force just big enough to hold his attention while his family ran ahead blindly into an ambush.

And he had fallen for it.

There was not even enough anger to swear for all he felt was fear. Bloodied sword in hand, he swung around and raced through the trees with an ethereal grace. He wanted to desperately call out their names- "Anna!" "Lloyd!"- But warrior's instinct stilled his tongue. If he was going to have any advantage over this new enemy, he could give no further clues to his own location.

Then, suddenly, his wife cried out, "Kratos! Please!" Her voice was hoarse and faint, but was carried over to his ears in pristine detail. Yet the very fact that she had called his name at all filled him with horror. His wife possessed a shrewd and intelligent mind. She knew as well as he the danger of revealing his identity. Also, the sound of her voice would only cause him to panic when he needed the coolness of mind to think. So, no, she would not have called out at all unless… unless…

Lloyd.

Kratos's fear and anxiety pooled and sharpened into a weapon he could use- rage. It had been four thousand years since he had been able to feel with this intensity. First love and now hate. The human nature in him, however, responded to it readily enough. In his mind hovered the sweet promise that if so much as a hair had been touched on either Lloyd or Anna, then Judgment would be delivered with glee.

He stopped at the edge of the trees to take in the scene. The ground continued on, bare, for a while before rounding off to a mound of rock just big enough to be considered a cliff. It was near this edge that his family had been captured.

Opposite of Kratos was Noishe, the gentle creature having been cornered by spear-wielding Desians. The dog-like protozoan could do little more than whine as it looked on, though it did growl at a Desian that dared tread too close. Another single Desian soldier struggled to keep a hold of a squirming three-year-old Lloyd, who was choking on his own wearied sobs, having tired out from what little tantrum he had been able to throw. Lloyd had only been handled with ill-intent once before, by a man from a group of would-be robbers. The experience had only lasted momentarily as Kratos had swiftly intervened and Lloyd been scooped back into his mother's safe arms. This new lack of protectors left the small child more than just a little bewildered.

It was Anna, however, who was in the most trouble. Splayed indignantly on the ground on her back, the strength of the woman's strong maternal fury of having her child torn from her showed in the fact that it took five trained soldiers to hold her down. Her eyes remained ever on Lloyd. An upright figure stepped forward delicately to stand at her head. Kratos growled, despite himself, upon recognizing the man to be Kvar. The man's beady eyes focused in on the EXsphere upon Anna's left hand.

"My dear little specimen," Kvar sniffed, tugging at a cuff, "that was quite the merry chase you gave us." The half-elf actually managed to sneer with those thin lips of his. "I'll be sure to show you just how much I enjoyed it." His tone was edged with sharp annoyance that belied his anxiety. The Desian leader was desperate to retrieve the EXsphere before Yggdrasil cared to take notice.

The only notice Anna cared to give him was to spit on his boots.

Kvar quickly leapt away, as though she had thrown acid upon him. That was a good enough distance for Kratos, who had been waiting for his chance. He dared not wait longer.

"Thunder Blade!" he called, summoning a thick bolt of lightning from the sky to smite the ground where Kvar stood. After all, the best way to kill a snake was to cut off its head.

Unfortunately, a Desian soldier, who had spotted the attack from the shadows, took the blow for his leader. He gave a fearful scream, even as his insides were cooked, before charred remains fell to the ground. The sudden occurrence was sufficient enough to divert everyone's attention. Kratos, seeing no sense in hiding, stepped, silent yet intimidating, away from the trees.

His name was quickly murmured throughout the troops, reverent despite themselves. Whereas this only seemed to create a nervous tension all around, Kvar's nose pricked as though smelling something foul. It certainly wasn't the body of the man who had sacrificed himself; Kvar daintily stepped over that corpse. "Well, well, isn't this an unexpected guest?" the half-elf spoke flatly, conveying only sarcastic surprise.

Truth be told, Kvar had long had this nagging suspicion about Kratos's involvement in the abduction of his prize lab specimen, especially with the woman calling out that name. Yet he had been hoping all along that he was wrong. Not for any particular feeling for the man, but because that just made things more politically difficult.

The blasted Seraphim was what had become tagged in the Desian camps as an "Untouchable". He and Lord Yuan- warriors that had been by Lord Yggdrasil's side since time out of memory- could have both set fire to the Tower of Mana and Lord Yggdrasil would still punish any poor bystander Desian for it instead. So, no, it would simply be wiser to stay away from making enemies of either Untouchable.

Even when the red-head had come to oversee Kvar's modest operation, the general had tried as much as possible to stay out of the Seraphim's way. Silent and stoic, Kratos was no less intimidating a force. It had been easy enough for the general to keep away from the angel's company and just let the man do as he wished. The man hardly talked, requested nothing of Kvar, and just seemed to hover around as a pair of blank, staring eyes. Kratos's main interest had been in the Experiment AO12 and the Desian general had preened with pride, more than willing to show off his achievement. Time went by and Kratos became a usual- if still unwelcomed- presence around the base. Then that one morning had come when Kvar had awoken and instead of news of an impending promotion, he had been told instead that Kratos had disappeared- and taken the experiment with him!

Five years he had played a cat-and-mouse game with these two. Somehow always they managed to stay a step or two ahead of him. For the first two years, he had lost track of them before months later receiving a tip on their location. Their movements had been random and with no specific location in mind, which drove Kvar to the brink of insanity. What was the point of all this? Then, at last, the last three years, their movements had begun to slow. His targets began to stay longer in one spot, moving less frequently. Carelessness? His golden eyes darted quickly at the subdued child in his subordinate's grasp. Perhaps not.

A child? Kvar would have gagged if he had not been so refined. Now, he was not one to talk of a superior's taste, but a lab rat? Really now. Still, the corners of his lips twitched at the thought of handing over to Pronyma a child that naturally had the angel blood she so desired to have. It gave him a slight warming feeling and he decided it would be a good way to end his too-long-a chase.

Kratos did not bother smothering a warning growl. Almost lazily, he held his sword in Kvar's direction, knowing that the slow action alone was keeping the man's rapt attention despite himself. "Release them," he ordered, annunciating clearly. There was no need to raise his voice; all present heard him perfectly. "Then leave." Inwardly, he was glad that nerves did not prevent him from speaking steadily. His heart was still pounding away, but warrior's training kept him focused even when the most was at stake.

"Hmm," Kvar gave a gentile stroke along the tip of his chin, pretending to consider it. Timing. It was all about timing. Slitted eyes caught the faintest glimmer of silver in the forest behind Kratos, the slightest reflection of starlight- the signal. Kvar allowed himself a smirk. "I think not." He waved his hand dismissively- the go-ahead.

The next moment was a flurry of movement. As one, another group of Desian soldiers sprang from the foliage, throats echoing with the cries for battle. In the same instant, Kratos had single-handedly changed his grip so that even as he turned around to protect his back, the sword's edge was right and ready for the foes. So in the next moment, the cries became choked and gargled.

Three dispatched.

Five.

The blood was more and more. Yet still Kratos grit his teeth and heartlessly cut into another. Faster. He had to move faster.

Kvar, too, was aware of his shortage of time. In the midst of one breath, he turned on his heel and strode over to his men holding down the woman. "What are you waiting for?" he barked, his usually silky voice becoming coarse as his rigidly held composure was forced to drop in light of the circumstances. With sharpened temper, he grabbed his quivering side-guard- who seemed to have gone stupid with the butchering of his comrades- roughly by the forearm and handed him a dagger. "Get that EXsphere out," he growled throatily, a hiss stealing through his teeth. That said; he thrust the poor cadet forward and barked again as the man stumbled over his feet. "Get it out!"

Things were going to hell quickly.

The brat was screaming again. Nearly seething with aggravation, the Desian holding him was forced to nearly throttle the kid to keep him quiet. The screams choked down to irrepressible sobs. Such seemed to be the last straw for the dog as he charged at his attackers. It was a good show of bravado for the gentle soul. Luckily, it worked, mostly in part because the Desians became better preoccupied with Kvar yelling at them to keep Kratos at bay. Noishe charged at the one holding Lloyd and the Desian quickly decided that he had had enough of this mess. He dropped the boy and ran after his comrades to join the fray. The shivering Lloyd whimpered into Noishe's white fur as the creature tried to comfort him. However, that small victory was eclipsed by the eruption of shrill screams.

Using the dagger his commander had forced upon him, the Desian had quickly followed his general's train of thought of how to get the EXsphere out. Settling beside his comrade responsible for holding the woman's left hand down, he promptly set to work. The goal was simple: get the special gem out. All soldiers had been briefed on this before setting out. Due to special circumstances- Kvar didn't care to go into details-the EXsphere had to be taken out of a living body with the limb still attached. (A sneer and full leering of those narrow, hallowed eyes implicated the catastrophic consequences that befall any failure to adhere to those rules.) With those sorts of restrictions, there was only one thing left to do: carve the thing out.

Anna could no longer hold back the screams of agony as she felt the knife slice between the cool gem and her flesh. The men holding her down tightened their hold accordingly as her body convulsed strongly, torn between the twin instincts to both thrash and break loose of her captor's hold and the base desire to curl into herself defensively. The Desian hissed through his teeth as he felt the dagger go clear through the other side and he had to shift his grip so that his fingers would not slip on the hot, pooling blood. With the incision made, he carefully started sliding the blade around the circumference of the gem like one would to carve a pit out of a fruit. It was slow work since the body's natural tremors made it difficult to keep a steady hand, but he dared not hurry lest he be careless.

The hinges of Kratos's composure and restraint fell apart at those horrid sounds. "Anna!" he screamed, distracted enough that his blow merely grazed a soldier in the arm, and the Desian hissed in pain and surprise as he merely fell to his knees, grasping the injured limb. Desperation made him merely shove the standing foes out of the way, aching to be by his beloved's side. "Anna!" The Desians seemed to be further fazed by the fact that even as they cut at him, he did not falter in his step. Wearied and shaken, they soon just stepped aside to let him pass. For the short time they were able to delay proved to be all it took.

Screams choked into a strangled gasp that was overshadowed by Kvar's sudden bark of triumph. The Desian general nearly preened as his guard quickly dropped the dagger and picked up the gleaming jewel. Getting to his feet, the Desian hurriedly wiped what blood he could off the prize, a rhetorical action as his red soaked gloves seemed to only besmear the object further. Kvar sneered and quickly snapped the prize out of the clumsy man's hands. Crooning, he cupped the thing gently in both palms and the royal blue EXsphere glimmered apathetically in his hold. "At last," the general breathed a deep release. His exaltation was further expressed in chuckles that gradually hummed away as he once more adapted a gentlemanly posture. Even ignoring the red speckling his boots, he turned to announce the triumph to his men.

Boiling with rage, Kratos once more tightened his grip on his sword. The gleam in Kvar's eyes as he stared him down deserved to be eradicated. Yet both men were distracted and turned as one, paling as they gazed on, to see a once still female body shudder with choking gasps and shudder and shudder and shudder....

Dwarven Vow Number 86: One who 'gets' will not be found sitting around 'wanting'.

Such had been added by Sir Gwry of the Nightash, who, at the time, had meant it as a tribute to his greatest victory, but dwarves had since reinterpreted it to fit a theme they enjoyed most: profit. Hence why masters would often be found quoting it to their apprentices- who by then would know all Dwarven Vows by heart as any dwarf worth his beard would- in a lesson to not be picky about customers. Despite a generational bred discriminatory view on other species, dwarves were generally accepting of any and all kinds of money.

Still, it was this Dwarven vow in particular that had settled in an adolescent Dirk's mind. Though most other dwarves had figured that since elves had rudely invited themselves over, the world had mostly gone down the pipes, Dirk wasn't so sure. This was not out of any particular feeling for the other species that had taken over, but the idea that there was a market out of Dwarven caves that had yet to be exploited. Boyd Irving, Dirk's father, had scoffed at his son's suggestion.

"Perhaps humans have by now come up with the concept of money," Boyd had admitted grudgingly after much prompting that after so many centuries, humans had probably moved past the concept of bartering and onto more "advanced" economies. Still, moving aboveground seemed to be more trouble than it's worth. "A dwarf is supposed to be in rocks and minerals. Living in trees and grass, under an open sky... it unmakes you, son." Here Boyd had shook his head sagely and stroked his full, white beard. He had long been upheld by the dwarves as one of great wisdom and respectability. Possessing unparalleled skills at smithery, an honorable mate, and excess cash to spare, Boyd's one misfortune seemed to be having a son that was more interested in producing goods instead of grandchildren. Still, his only son was young and among dwarves, such was not too much of a disappointment.

After mulling it over for a great deal of time, Dirk found that the idea of good money seemed to outweigh the inconvenience of bad company and with the stubbornness of all dwarves, bid his family farewell and set off.

At first it had been somewhat like an adventure. There had been the moon, stars, sun, grass, trees, waterfalls, and flowers. Then, of course, had come the gnats, cold winds, dust storms, and nosy woodland critters. Yet watching a mosquito try to suck blood out of leathery Dwarven skin had been somewhat amusing. It also hadn't taken long for him to get quickly acquainted with folks of the human sort. (Apparently elves at this time were considered rare and exotic, even though Dirk had sort of deduced that no one had even so much as seen one in ages.)

Humans- Dirk was somewhat surprised to find- seemed to have developed prejudices of their own. Despite being the majority race, the general inherent weakness of humans seemed to have made the species increasingly paranoid, even against one another. Anything outside the norm was met with distrust and sometimes even derision. Dirk eventually passed it off a secondary survival skill, in addition to the ability of fertile breeding. To each their own evolutionary attributes...

Still, it sometimes got old- the looks and whispers that would accompany him in whatever village he wandered. Not that he was particularly worried about being hassled. Any upstart young pups looking for easy targets were easily corrected by Dirk's great hammer. After all, as Dwarven Vow number 99 stated: "Easier separated is Tethe'alla from Sylverant than a purse from its dwarf." (As instated by the great hero Sir Verntrem of the Soles.)

Years had gone by and eventually he had decided to settle by a quaint town of Iselia. Though annoyingly close to a vile Human ranch, Dirk had liked its excess gald (the money unit humans had apparently decided on) and the privacy he could find. He would have to build his own home, away from the town, but that suited him fine. Yet despite the fact that he would not even be dwelling within the town limits, the mayor had still scuffled over and huffed that Dirk still had to register for taxes.

(That had been an odd looking man. His white hair had been combed over from the back of head to hide an otherwise severely balded scalp. Sometimes there was just no understanding humans. After the man had left, Dirk had- a bit sulkily- pulled at the barely receding and fully brunette strands atop his head. For a dwarf to mature, he must first lose the adolescent hair atop his head and wait for his hormones to turn a young beard into a full, white one. With not so much as a single pale strand, it was enough to make one nervous of people being aware of his youth.)

"One dwarf then?" the scribe had asked, pen poised above the yellowed paper of the town record. The young man in full, white, religious garb held Dirk's rapt attention, not because the dwarf thought this errand particularly important, but because he couldn't help but wonder how the man managed to talk when it looked like he had to continually pucker his lips.

"Yes," Dirk shook back into himself and answered, "that's right."

"Only one?" the scribe rose an eyebrow and puckered considerably.

Dwarven Vow Number 8: Lying is the first step to thievery. (As Kommandant Jeof suitably discovered.) Yet like any group of intelligent beings, dwarves had loopholes. A dishonest dwarf was a social outcast. A sarcastic one, on the other hand...

"Ah," Dirk had sat back and stroked his (brown) beard thoughtfully. "Well, we'll have to see about that, won't we?" He winked as he had seen humans do, trying to show that he was trying to share an inside joke. "I'm just a young dwarf trying to make his way in the world. Need to settle myself down proper before I start thinking of... those kinds of things, no?" The scribe paled considerably. "Yes, a wife... child... Those might come later." Not lies. Not technically. Just a discussion about open possibilities, and who could tell the future? Still, no need to mention that Dirk found no reason to give up his solitude as of yet, even if he could find a mate that would give up the underground.

The scribe swallowed audibly. "I'll be sure to make a note of it," he spoke finally, making ink scratches in the great book and then Dirk was dismissed.

Time had passed and Dirk had built his home and started up a slow business of his own. Right now his life seemed to be moving so slowly, compared to what it was before, like a stasis. It would take time, he knew, for his business to grow and the gald to come in, but for now, there was nothing to do but wait. Yet that Dwarven Vow Number 86 echoed in his head.

"One who' gets' will not be found sitting around 'wanting'."

Dirk shook his head to clear it. It got too easy to get lost in thought on these journeys home. With nothing but a dark night, thick woods, and a steady path before him, there was not much else to do but get caught in wonderings of yesterdays. As close as he knew the Desian base to be to his path home, in the midst of the dark forest at night, entities such as the Desian forces and the stuffy Iselia village seemed so far away. Tilting back his head to take in what star littered sky he could see through the entwining branches, Dirk mused that in the grand scheme of things the ventures a single dwarf must not amount to all that much.

He was struck suddenly from his philosophy by the sound of several screams followed almost instantaneously by a thundering rumble. The dwarf stuck still in his steps, bewildered by the noise that had pierced the previously quiet night. The Desian base was not exactly known for its tender loving care, but even so, shrieks like that were uncommon. And that sound... He shuddered as though the echo still reverberated within his bones. That couldn't have been human or even elven for that matter. Some animal then.

Common sense dictate that he keep on the path, head home and not get entangled with anything that was capable of causing that sound. It wouldn't even be difficult; for millennia, dwarves had made isolationism an intricate part of their culture. Even back and before the elves had descended from the stars, the dwarves had kept themselves absorbed with their mountains, treasure, and trade. The other races- or the few among them that bothered to remember anything about dwarves- usually held it in common that dwarves, seeing themselves outnumbered, had been defeated and subsequently driven into the mountains. Such was laughably untrue. Dwarves, growing increasingly annoyed with their new neighbors, had exiled themselves and withdrawn underground, comfortable in their knowledge that when the time came they would be able to emerge and take control once again. Keeping to one's own business was second nature to a dwarf and probably one of the reasons the race had lasted as long as it had. It was one of the reasons a dwarf like Dirk could survive alone out in the world, far from his native magic womb. Live and leave well enough alone.

It was not a much further walk to home. His above-ground house lacked the live-in feel that would make it a home, but a warm fire and some warm drink... He could recline in a chair, stare out at the stars, and lazily drift into sleep...

Dwarven Vow #33: A chance not taken- for better or worse- is a chance regretted.

'As King Vardyn wrote down in his 680th year, the last year of the Bomburian Age, the honor being due to-'he allowed his mind to continue the automatic recalling of the Vow in an effort to distract himself as agile feet glided across untrodden forest floor. This was not out of any sort of fear for himself for he always carried a weapon on hand and whatever was out there would not detect him anyway. Ironically enough, not even an elf could move more quietly through a forest than a dwarf. Even the best of predators wouldn't notice if Dirk walked two feet beside them. He bore the heavy, solid weight of his ax in his hand all the same.

Sensitive ears guided him in the right direction for though there were no more screams, heavy grunts and the pounding of something hard against the ground grew louder as he drew closer... to whatever it was. The forest gave way to a sudden clearing and Dirk, remaining hidden in the borderline foliage, could see why. The thunderous clamor he had heard earlier had apparently been the sound of the earth giving way; the entire face of cliff had been wiped off, its carnage spewing into the woods below. Dirt, rocks, and upturned rocks lay everywhere, but that was not all that was spread about the mangled earth. Partially buried in the newly crumpled soil and almost as much covered in bruises and blood as it was with filth lay a creature of some sort, one of a species that Dirk could not even begin to guess at. Its soiled white and green-striped fur added to its patheticness as its ears hung limp and tired. However, the brightness in its eyes and its swaying tail proved that it was still very much alive. Despite the fact that Dirk should have been well kept from any view, it seemed to catch sight of the dwarf and whined quietly. Cautious- for an injured animal could prove more vicious than a healthy one- Dirk crept forward slowly, pity stirring his heart to at least inspect the poor thing.

It made no threatening move and he obligingly returned the flavor. Instinctively he rested a callused hand upon its nose and heard the thing breathe in his scent. If this thing had any Earth magic in it at all, it would recognize Dirk for what he was. Sliding his hand over a bit, the dwarf could feel a belied smoothness in the fur. This was not some wild animal, but a thing well cared for. A pet of some sort? The creature trembled at his touch and Dirk could hardly blame it with the pain it must be feeling. His one hand continued its inspection and when he came to the neck, he breathed a sigh of relief. Not broken. "Take heart, whatever you are," he muttered as he continued his examination. "You might live yet. Although I marvel at your misfortune to be unlucky enough to be caught in that." Unburying the creature he found that of its four legs, one was in bad shape although with any luck not beyond mending. He had just come up with a diagnosis that some of the ribs might have been bruised when the beating noises sprung up. Startled, he sprung up from where he was kneeling next to the foreign creature, the poor thing whining again. It made some motion to get up, presumably to get away from whatever was making the racket, but Dirk quickly put down his hand to still it. The beast could not afford worsening its injuries. It whined again, but obeyed Dirk's firm touch. Still, Dirk needed to find out what it was if he didn't want to get eaten. There was always some stupid creature out there who thought it might be able to chew through Dwarven meat.

Peering over what little cover the landslide had provided, Dirk peered into the darkness to see yet another strange sight. Bodies were strewn about the undergrowth, ones who were not as fortunate as the monster he had found. Some were merely contorted in unnatural ways, their twisted limbs giving clear evidence to the terrible way they had died. Others, however, looked as though something had taken a bite out of their torsos or legs and had promptly spat it out. Dirk's best guess for the culprit was the strangest creature of all.

Unlike the animal-like beast, this terrible thing was completely unlike anything Dirk had ever heard of. It was enormous, more than twice the height of any man, and its great body was supported with powerful hind legs, much alike in structure to a bird or raptor's. Up from its body sprung a wiry neck with a bulbous thing for a head. Thick, web-like veins threaded all over atop the skin, adjoining at the center of the head with the core being a single, illuminating eye. The whole lower portion of its head opened a closed to display a powerful jaw with rows of small, but very effective teeth. On the whole, it was ugly and horrific to look at, but Dirk could not look away.

It lay chest down on the ground, an odd position given the blood pooling from the part of the body. Very much in pain, the shivering would give way now and again to frenzied thrashes and with these bursts of energy, the thing would snap at anything close by, any unfortunate corpse that lay close enough for it to grab. Whipping its head from one side to the net, it occasionally caught something, biting into the flesh deeply. If it was hungry, as starving as it seemed to behave, it was not able to enjoy its prey for with a holler of torment, it would let go of the carcass. Its raving behavior continued as Dirk discovered that the beating noises were the sound of it pounding itself against the earth, particularly its head. No matter how many wounds it gave itself, nothing satisfied it. Each strike caused it to cry out in pain but even as it trembled in mid-air, it would enforce its next blow even harder.

This was the behavior of something that desperately wanted to die.

At last it could bear it no more and once again to lay quivering on the ruined soil. Its heavy pants, choked with the blood filling its lungs, proved that the abomination would soon get its wish. Not wishing to see any more, Dirk steeled his heart and prepared to turn around. It would be best to attend to the beast he could save and get as far from this place as possible. Just as he was mid-way in his action, he realized that the gasps were not just releases of air, but that there were words in them too. A new sort of horror struck into his bones as he turned back and deciphered as best he could.

"Help... Oh, please... Someone... Help...Him..."

A sound that echoed somewhat of a choked sob cut off whatever came after as the thing began to cough harshly. Dirk could barely believe it; surely his mind was playing tricks on him. But it was true. The thing had spoken, clear Common no less. Dear Mercy, had this thing been human once?

Feeling incredibly foolish but unable to help himself, Dirk stood, taking care to maintain his distance. Yet even after he could think of nothing to say, nothing sensible to ask it. There were no Dwarven Vows to help guide in this. Completely lost, he stood staring until the thing caught sight of him, or so he thought as it fixed its one on him. Confirming his suspicions of intelligence, it stilled itself, keeping low to the ground: a defensive, but submissive, position. What would it ask him? To kill it, perhaps? He probably already should have, having seen its display of utter suffering. But a jaded aspect wanted to hear it talk, to confirm that this anthropomorphic monstrosity had truly spoken.

Gasping for breath, the thing managed to murmur, "Who...? ...Who?"

Standing firm, his eye watching every move the thing made, Dirk understood the question and replied, "Dirk Irving, a Dwarf. What do you want?" He hefted his axe in both hands, a grasp he did not necessarily need, but it was for gesture's sake. He was waiting for it to ask.

The monster spasmed suddenly, its head striking the ground. Dirk started a little, but stood his ground when he saw the thing made no move forward. It was also in that instant that he saw that the thing's left hand alone remained still, remaining closed in a gentle grip even as the rest of the body trembled. He wondered briefly about it before the creature stilled and moaned and called to him.

"Please...Please..." it begged.

"Name your task," Dirk nodded solemnly. He would give no promise to complete it, for such a promise would have to be kept regardless. However, he still wanted to know what the thing had to say before he died. "What is it you want?"

The beast shuddered, its breathing slowing. Perhaps his services would not be needed... He held up his axe swiftly as, instead of answering, the thing slowly brought forth its left hand, oddly dragging it along the ground instead of lifting it to strike. Dirk focused on it, but his senses were left open to any movement coming anywhere. He did not want to be caught by surprise. Yet the creature made no hidden moves, just simply brought its curled hand before Dirk. Its eye seemed to take him in for a long time and Dirk nearly held his breath in anxiety, unsure of what was to happen next. With a sigh that was nearly of relief, the hand slowly uncurled, one clawed finger after another, before its precious treasure was revealed before the dwarf, who marveled at what he saw.

So ordinary and even more out-of-place for it, a small boy lay slumbering in that huge palm. He was a young human, but he looked even tinier in the monster's grasp. Caught off guard, Dirk lowered his axe and stepped forward for a closer look. He was relieved to see that the boy was indeed breathing, calmly and steadily, caught up in dreams. There were some scratches and a bruise here or there, but compared to the carnage that lay all around, the boy seemed particularly untouched. Before Dirk knew it, his free hand reached forward and brushed back soft locks of brown, confirming the bewildering notion that the boy was indeed real.

The thing spoke again, more calm and composed that the raving monster he had seen earlier. "My name..." it gasped, still straining for air. However, it was determined to continue, to speak as clearly as it could. "My name...is Anna. I am this boy's mother..." Impossible, and yet it must be true! "Please... take Lloyd as far from here as you can. They will find him... They will find him and-" A new- or perhaps old- distress caught up with it- her- and she shook again.

Dirk forced himself to speak. There was not much longer for questions and he had to take advantage of what time he had. "Who? Who is this boy in danger from?" He had a guess already; the most quietly and hidden despised of all...

"The Desians..." Anna confirmed. "They will try to find him... to kill him... and all for that cursed EXsphere..."

"EXsphere?" Dirk interrupted, urging for an answer even as the once-woman coughed. She was incapable of saying anything at the moment though. Frustrated, Dirk caught ear of the other creature's whines. He looked back over, an admonishing look prepared on his face should the silly beast think it was suddenly capable of moving. The thing had stayed obediently still- he was pleased to see- only its head looking over its shoulder, watching him. Their eyes met for a moment and it was almost unnerving the intelligence that shone through those dark eyes. Then, with uncanny deliberance, it shifted its gaze over to a spot beside Dirk. Following the line of sight, Dirk looked and spotted, almost completely covered by soil and roots, a shiny blue gem. Hurriedly, he walked over to it and lifted it from the dirt. It seemed as though all the dirt and grim of the world could not extinguish its rich glow. "This," he asked, as he walked back over in front of the- in front of Anna, "This is what you were talking about?" An almost rhetorical question, he reflected, his mouth in a grim line. Although any dwarf worth his or her salt could distinguish any type of jewel over another, one could not go through the training he had in dealing with EXspheres and their shady business without recognizing an EXsphere upon sight. There was something about this one though that did not feel like others he had come in contact with; he could not immediately ascertain as to why.

The once-woman hissed as her one eye took in the sight of it. The glow of the eye flickered red for a moment. "Yes..." she said, pausing to take a breath and then continued quickly, "You must hurry. Take it and the boy away, quickly. Those who seek them must not find them.... Never, ever..."

Dirk promptly pocketed the EXsphere, resolving to ponder its queer distinction later. Slipping his axe into its holder, he strode forward and awkwardly gathered the child into his arms. As family-oriented as dwarves liked to think themselves to be (what with taking immense pride in hordes of children and grandchildren), Dirk had never quite got around to getting himself comfortable with the notion of a family. So focused on business ventures was he that any notion of marriage and child-rearing had been shifted way, way down in priorities. He supposed that this might be the one instance that such knowledge might come in handy, but amended the thought with the heavy feeling that this one instance was going to be followed by many, many instances. (If there was any fairness in fate, however, he would never have to admit it to his parents.) Still, as the boy's warm body settled into his hold, the small head falling back on his chest, just under his beard, Dirk grudgingly admitted that he might stumble his way through it after all. Lloyd... He mentally cursed as he realized that he was in serious danger of getting attached.

Seeing her son gently held in the stranger's embrace, Anna murmured one last phrase: an apology or perhaps a wish... but it ended with a name. Lacking the strength and breath to say it aloud, it was hers to keep for all of time. With one small shudder and her sigh, she lay still and suffered no more.

Kratos was running again, but more desperate than before. The Desians who had not fled with Kvar had all met their end either on his blade or by magic. Not even hoping to escape their fate, they had fallen upon him, forcing him back into the trees. His mind had lost all sense of composure; his spirit not even allowed the time to react to what had happened just moments before. Like an avalanche, it was all uncontrollable events, leaving him as helpless as a bystander, but he was not even allowed the innocence of conscience like a mere witness would. Deprived of all civilized thought, his reaction came down to extreme panic.

His goal: to get to the bottom of the cliff.

A moment and eternity later, Kratos was retracing his steps as fast as he was able. There was the clearing, with Desian corpses still present. He did not spare them a moment's thought, but instead ran to where the earth had given way. As effortlessly as breathing, he confidently stepped out over the edge and unfurled a pair of shimmering wings. Steadily he drifted down to the ground below, not the slightest bit dizzy from all the air around him. His eyes had long ago shifted to be able to see in the pitch dark and he used the height to scan the darkness below him. After a few seconds of roving, crimson eyes picked up what he was looking for. It would have been impossible- had anyone watched- to see the slight awkwardness of his landing, but his urgency caused him to stumble all the same. Heedless of his lack of usual grace, Kratos went immediately to the side of his metamorphized wife and found that despite his feverent hopes, his worst fear was true.

Anna was dead, and there was no way of bringing her back.

Kratos was unable to hold back a choked cry, but quickly focused on something else before grief could overwhelm him. Lloyd. He had to find Lloyd. Shaking, he turned, taking in the whole area, and sharpened his vision further, looking for the slightest detail. All around were half-eaten corpses and ruins of a destroyed landscape, but no sign of a three-year-old child. Refusing to give up, Kratos looked again and again, desperate to find his little boy. As longer moments passed, he finally flung out the name he had been inwardly chanting the whole time, "Lloyd! Lloyd! Lloyd, answer me!" He called it again and again, not giving a damn if even Yggdrasil himself heard him. Where was his son?

"Lloyd! Lloyd, where are you?" he had called, peering behind the various trees. The boy had been before him just moments before. How far could he have scurried off? But the silence got longer and longer and Kratos was finding it harder to find paternal worry. "Lloyd!" he called a little more fiercely. "Lloyd, come out right now." His entire anxiety was completely erased when his sharp ears finally picked up on the sounds of smothered giggling. Frowning with his own sheepishness, he promptly peered behind the neighboring trunk and there indeed was his son.

Seeing he had been caught, Lloyd promptly jumped out crying, "Boo!" The brunette grinned up at the tall man frowning down at him. Children had always been intimidated by Kratos's height, but Lloyd always seemed to get such pleasure at nearly leaning over backwards to looks his father in the eye. "Did ya scare?"

"A little," Kratos admitted, ruffling the boy's hair, making him hum in pleasure. He kneeled down to look straight at his boy. "But next time, Little Aurion, you come when I call, understand?"

"Ok..."

"Lloyd! Lloyd!" Kratos's last conscious thought was endlessly crying out that name, even as shank down, down onto his knees and eventually collapsing on the ground into a darkness bleaker than this most horrid of nights.

"You thrice blasted animal!" Dirk cursed- not for the first time- as he tugged- again- on the mangy... whatever kind of green and white creature this was. The thing had been hesitant to follow him at first, but upon seeing the boy in his arms, he had had no trouble in leading the animal- until now. Its ears had perked up and upon hearing something, had started to whine. With an almost torn look on its face, the creature never hesitated in limping after Dirk, but it also did not cease its calls for the dwarf's attention. 'Must be spooked,' was Dirk's guess and he continued to urge the beast forward. Desians never went anywhere without a leader and judging from the lack of regalia Dirk had seen among the bodies, it would be a safe guess to assume that more troops were located nearby. Worst come to worst, he would be forced to go on without the injured animal, but the very idea went against so many vows, that it made Dirk twitch uncomfortably. "Come on! Come!"

The creature suddenly stopped still, its dark eyes peering back at Dirk. It was like those times before, when the animal was trying to tell Dirk something or so it seemed. Again, it wished terribly for the dwarf to understand. However, dwarves did not possess a reputation for getting along swell with forest critters for a reason. Dirk could only guess so much on his own. He tugged insistently at the thing's mane with a hand he managed to free. "If you possess any sense at all, you will move." The animal continued to stare at him, not making a sound. After a long moment, it took one step forward and then stepped back yet again, giving one last whine. The dwarf got the feeling that it was asking him to make a choice. "Well, what do you want? To go back? Hm?" He meant it sarcastically, but the creature's pointed stare drained the humor from it. The thing had to be joking. To go back was as good as suicide. However- an annoying part of Dirk's conscience pricked at him- the thing had been eerily right before. The weight of the still sleeping boy in his arms weighed even heavier in Dirk's mind. If it was just him, he might have risked it but it had been the mother's dying wish for him to take care of the boy. Could he earnestly do that when he might be walking into danger?

Teal eyes narrowed as the man possessing them watched a wearied Kvar return to the Iselia Base. He was hardly surprised to find the Grand Cardinal come back with only a fraction of the men he had left with. Kratos had apparently not made their task easy. His dislike for the general and the rage on the half-elf's face motivated him to speak. "What is this, Kvar?" the blunette jibed, crossing his arms so as to hide his pale hands beneath his cloak. It was a cold night. "Did the winds of victory forget to blow in your sails?"

The blonde actually had the nerve to snarl at him, even going so far as to bare teeth. Hair mussed and dirt dotting his clothing, Kvar made an usually untidy picture. "Good evening, Lord Yuan," the general greeted through clenched teeth. "Once again you... honor us with your presence."
Yuan dismissed the rudeness and casually flicked his tied back aqua hair behind his shoulder. He would let the attitude slip this one time. "One would think you went to war," he observed, glancing to see the soldiers support each other as they limped their way into the base. Forcystus would probably throw a fit- out of Yuan's ear range, naturally- about having to cater to so many soldiers not his own. The man would have to live with it for now; after the next night or two, Kvar and his men would be returning to their own base. "Incredibly to think you were only out to take care of a mere human woman."
Kvar stopped in his tracks and turned sharply on his heel, glaring at his superior. Even in his rage he could not bring himself to speak out against an Untouchable, but the night had pulled even his icy cold composure to its limits. "It was not," he tried to even his breathing, to put together the most respectful reply he was capable of at the moment, "just a woman."

"Oh, you're right," Yuan snorted, fiddling with a cuff. "There was also a child there, wasn't there?"
Kvar's beady, black eyes gleamed, "My Lord-"

"To get to the point," the blunette interrupted sharply, "did you or did you not succeed in your quaint little venture?"
The Lieutenant General straightened himself, his true nature getting the best of even all of his aggravation. "If my quest was nearly as quaint as his Lordship believed it to be," a gloved hand slicked back the strands of platinum blonde, every one falling right back into place, "then I doubt very much that one as important as yourself would have taken an interest in it." The trademark smirk was back flawlessly as though it had never been discarded.
Such a remark hit dangerously close to something Yuan would rather not think about. However, his motives had less to do with the Grand Cardinal and his political agenda, than it did with his old companion. "I can honestly say, Kvar," he retorted flatly, "that I care as much for what you do I as do for what I had breakfast the past day." It was reprimand and they both knew it. Kvar knew better than to push his luck, especially after his night had been so disastrous, but he could not help grinning like a fool all the same.

"Oi! Kvar!" Their stare-down was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a peevish Forcystus. One of his arms, which had been replaced awhile back with a giant gold cannon, swung clankily at his side, adding to the impression of an irked brat. His one red eye focused only on the blonde and glared to its heart's content. "You have some nerve!" He stopped in front of the Grand Cardinal and clenched his one fist. "Do you have any idea of how much resources your and your little 'project' are taking up? You're not the boss of this place, you know!"

Kvar snorted condescendingly and stuck his nose in the air, giving off this air of indulgence. "You're as temperamental as ever," he commented above Forcystus's head before glancing down at the smaller half-elf. "Is it any wonder you got 'command' of a backwater place like this?"
"Say what?" Forcystus snapped, whipping up his cannon arm to point blank at Kvar's face. "Don't toy with me! I've heard what your soldiers have been saying!" It was now his turn to smirk. "You failed, Kvar. After all that trouble, you come back empty handed. Whose reputation is going to be tarnished now?" His glee increased as Kvar's ire returned. The cannon was lowered as Forcystus waved his hand carelessly in the air, accentuating his comments. "Couldn't kill the woman or the child... They both just conveniently tumbled off a cliff. Not only that, but you lost that oh so precious EXsphere of yours as well! How you ever rose as high as you did is beyond me. Unless all your missions were accomplished by dumb luck."

"Hold your tongue or you will be one less yet another limb!" Kvar snapped, unamused. It was Forcystus's way of petty revenge, he knew. As home to the Chosen, Iselia's ranch was more like a dummy ranch than anything, functioning more like insurance to keep the village people especially obedient. Such status meant less importance and that meant less urgency on supplies. The longer Kvar stayed, the more his men would take up resources Forcystus and his men could potentially need.
"Kvar," Yuan interrupted, growing impatient. The other two men jumped, suddenly reminded of his presence. "Tell me, what happened to Kratos? If the woman and child are dead, then where is he?"
The general shifted, uncomfortable. "I can honestly say that I haven't the faintest idea," he finally answered. "Probably still in the woods grieving over the loss of that lab rat and spawn."
Yuan gathered his cloak tighter around him and pulled over his hood, thoroughly annoyed with the two in front of him. "Neither of you will speak of this to anyone," he instructed, motioning to his own troop of men. Teal eyes looked pointedly at Kvar. "I mean it. Nothing that happened this night need be remembered," he stared down the both of them before turning on his heel. "And if you're so upset about the experiment, Cardinal, then I suggest you get over it. Perhaps even start over. You have other specimens, do you not?" He heard the general growl and mutter something under his breath, but the blunette cared little.
It was time to go retrieve Kratos.

Dirk was prevented from using his meditative habit of reflecting upon Dwarven yore with the unrelenting reminder that he was following a hobbling who-knew-what back to a spot where a pack of Desians could possibly be waiting to tear him apart. Lloyd whimpered something into the nape of his neck, but still the child did not stir. For prudence's sake he had carefully shifted the child to a carrying position on his back. He had been worried for a moment by the boy's lack of awakening- for surely anyone would after all this movement- but no careful checking revealed any threatening wound, so he resolved that the boy would simply awaken later. For now, there was more to worry about.

This could not have been good for the creature either. One of his legs was starting to drag behind the other, but still it did not let Dirk fall too far behind him. Nerves on end, Dirk was sorely tempted to make a snide remark if only to make himself better, but the animal's slowly waving tail, the light in its eyes, and its undaunted spirit seemed to only make such thoughts seem cruel, and any Dwarf worth the name could hold his tongue when it really mattered. But what was he coming back here for?

Finally, they were back at that starting point. For the second time that night, Dirk peered out from the trees to the destruction before him. At first nothing looked different and he felt a burning impulse of anger at himself for being so silly. His father had a saying, "Only Elves read the stars." There was no use trying to read more into a situation than what was there. The animal was probably just delirious with pain and Dirk had just mistaken that gleam in his eyes for intelligence, when really there was nothing turning the gears in-between those two furry excuses for ears- What was that?

Next to Anna was a body that had not been there previously, a mass with a mop of red hair slumped over on its side. The animal whined and stepped forth from their spot in the trees. Dirk nearly called after it before stopping himself and looking around. There didn't seem to be any Desians around. Stopping beside the body, the creature whimpered again and nudged it with his nose. The Dwarf started making his way forward, resolving to try one last time to lead the creature away. However, even as he resigned himself to the utter tragedy of the night, he was startled as the lump move and one hand reached up and stroked the white muzzle.

"Noishe," a harsh voice mumbled before the hand dropped down lifelessly. Dirk stepped a little quicker and peered into the face of this new man. Not the blank, insipid eyes of a cadaver, but utterly lost and broken in a way only the living could be. By the looks of him-quick, brown eyes surveyed every detail of the man- this was no Desian. Yet beyond that, there were no real clues to what else the red-head could possibly be. He was garbed in the normalities of any human male, but with more durable material than even the fussiest housemother used to patch up shirts. Most villagers in Iselia went for simplicity over style; the occasional merchants showed that kind of vanity, but even their style didn't echo this sort of thing. Bored with clothing details, Dirk shifted the child on his back for comfort's sake and took one last look at the man's face, trying as hard as possible from looking at the man's disturbing gaze. Red eyes did not even register the dwarf's presence, which was one blessing. It was in mid-thought of planning the next step that it occurred to Dirk. Frankly, human's faces all started to look the same after awhile, so it was a miracle such stood out to him at all. But bridge of the nose, the breadth of the forehead, the angle of the cheeks... it was all so subtle, but no creature has a better eye for details than a Dwarf. Either this was the boy's father or a conveniently placed near-blood-relative; at this point, Dirk didn't really care which. Kneeling down carefully- ever conscious of the weight on his back- Dirk stared down at the man before him. He was interrupted from his search for the right words when the man surprised him by speaking first. "Leave me," a dry voice murmured, as though it took all his strength to move his lips. "Or kill me. If you have nothing for my suffering, then I have nothing to say to you." Not once did those garnet eyes once look his way.

Dirk couldn't help but give a snort his father would be proud of. "Does the name Anna mean anything to you?" he finally said, carefully watching for the reaction.
Those haunted eyes finally looked his way, giving no sign of surprise to discover he was talking to a dwarf. "Anna," the man mouthed the two syllables. Then his eyes focused out again. "Lloyd..."

The dwarf was virtually sure now. "The boy," he began firmly, sensing that he was quickly losing the man. "He is your son, is he not?" He could still feel the brunette's rhythmic breathing on the bare skin of his neck. The green and white creature picked its head up, ears perked. They were running low on time.
The man looked back at him and caught sight of the child's face on his shoulder. A little more light returned to those cold eyes. "Lloyd..." the stranger spoke a little louder, a little clearer. "My boy..." The light flickered.

"He's alive," Dirk assured, "and well. But not out of danger." This was the way. Dirk was sure. "We are all in danger. The Desians may come for their fallen comrades at any moment. We cannot be here when they come." Color was starting to return to the man's face. The dwarf was giving Kratos needed kindling, a purpose to gather strength for. Few things were stronger than a parent's need to protect their child and Dirk was using that to his best advantage. "I have a home, not far off. The Desians shouldn't think to look for you there. But I cannot carry both you and the boy. The creature," he gestured to their companion animal that seemed to be becoming increasingly nervous, "is injured and cannot handle your weight." He looked the man straight in the eye, keeping his tone smooth but blunt. "You need to carry the boy. What say you?"

For a long moment the night seemed still. Then slowly but steadily, the man gathered himself to his feet. He was startlingly tall and not only to Dirk, but enough to even easily tower over an elf. Yet the dwarf had never seen a man that seemed so small. The clothes were dirt-stained as was the man's face and the haunted look had not at all left those garnet eyes. All that may have been true, but the father still held out his strong arms for his son. Dirk turned and let the man gather the child, feeling both the tenderness in that hold and the sudden cold air on his back. Brown eyes had a quick glimpse of a sword in hilt at the man's side before turning to see the boy was in good hands. The dwarf nodded solemnly and gestured a direction. "We go. Now." The red-head returned the nod with equal solemnity and headed forward, taking cover in the trees with the creature limping along after him. Not following quite yet, Dirk, again for the second time that night, deftly covered any tracks that might have given them away. Giving the grounds one more thorough look, his eyes came upon Anna's body. He knew next to nothing about her, but fate had seen to it that tonight they crossed paths. Leaving her like this seemed wrong to his fierce sense of pride and honor. Resolving quietly to soon come back and gather her body, he turned his back on the clearing and made his way to the three waiting for him.
It would be a long journey home.

It had been fairly easy for Yuan and his entourage to find the right location. At the top of the cliff, the blunette took in the wreckage with not just a little consternation. Desians, as useful as they were sometimes, were never ones to leave a place better than how they found it. Teal eyes taking in body after body, it occurred to him- not for the first time- that it was a bloody business he had decided to get himself entangled with. Not feeling particularly entangled with morals, he stepped over a particular soldier's body, one that oddly looked like it had been burned to death, and to the cliff's edge. His precise hearing allowed him to hear his right-hand man, Botta, calling for him. He privately hoped that this meant that Kratos had been located. The sooner they could leave this dismal place the better.

Down below, the earth looked in even worse shape that it did where he was at. Shattered landscape, more mutilated bodies- it just figured that Kratos was going to make things as difficult as possible. The soldiers that had come with him were still scouring the grounds, but standing on a mound was Botta, signaling his boss with his waving arms. Little choice here. The only way to go was down.

Unknowingly mimicking the very man he was searching for, Yuan stepped off and over the ledge into mid-air. Before gravity could take over and pull him down, heliotrope wings sprung from his back, catching the wind, and making him airborne. Even in the pitch night they managed to shimmer with a light of their own. Unruffled and with a grace that could not be matched by even an elf, he fluttered ethereally through the still air and landed impeccably upon the ground, not even a pebble stirring out of place. Contrary to this soft display, hard, cold teal eyes stared back at Botta, who managed to look back with a nerve only years of experience could garner. It was always important to remember that no one got to a position like Lord Yuan's by mere flashy display. The squinty-eyed aide coughed to clear his throat and the noise startled the nearby Renegades back to their tasks. Even the most seasoned of soldiers got caught off guard by the sight of angel wings. Such was a rare and beautiful sight to behold.

"Have you found him?" Yuan got straight to the point.

Great self-control prevented Botta from fidgeting. "Not quite, my lord," he began. "We-"

Annoyed, the blunette interrupted, "Then why are you talking to me when you could be helping your comrades search this area? A progress report isn't much when there isn't any progress." On the edge of his temper, the wise took note that Yuan was one that got cold before unleashing hell fire. Such people discretely continued their search a few paces away.

Botta's self-control waned a bit, but still did not allow him to flinch. "That is what I wished to bring to your attention, my lord," he retained his respectful tone, not dropping his gaze from that of his commander's. "The men have already sweeped throughout this area. Numerous dead have been accounted for, but not one of them is Lord Kratos."

Setting his jaw, Yuan spun on his heel, peering into the dark as though he could spot something his soldiers had missed. Most other Desian leaders would have dismissed one like Botta at that moment, going through commanders until finally find one that told them what they wanted to hear, but such was not the way between Botta and Yuan. Years of camaraderie had generated respect and a certain degree of trust on both sides. The lack of such in the Desian army was yet one of many faults Yuan could name of Cruxis. During the good years he had learned the value of personal ties and a force with personal desires at stake was a force to be reckoned worth. True he had also gone on to learn the cost such ties could have... Yuan swept the dark memories away with practiced ease. Now was not the time or place. "What about the woman and the boy? What trace of them has been found?"

Dutifully Botta pointed out a monstrous corpse unlike all the others. "That," he gestured, "was found. We hypothesize it to be the body of the specimen A012 Kvar was talking about. Although there is no sign of his declaimed EXsphere."

"Let Kvar worry about those tiny details," Yuan waved it off, still peering through the woods around them. "And the boy? Has his body been found as well?"

"Negative," Botta shook his head, settling into an at-ease position. "Neither he nor Lord Kratos have left a trace of their whereabouts."

"Hmm," Yuan frowned thinly. He was liking less and less of this by the minute. His plan, which had gone so well, was quickly unraveling from its end goal. He had figured that Kratos would have become a thorn in his side eventually, but never like this. The man's unwavering loyalty to Yggradsil and his cause had always been the assumed obstacle, not the sudden news that Kratos had run off with a lab specimen of all things. After so long he had thought his old comrade was all out of surprises. Still, Yuan was confident that this was nothing he could not fix. Kratos needed to return to Cruxis so as to not needlessly mislead Yggdrasil's attention and there was only one way Yuan could see about going about that. However, this whole night would have been for nothing if he could not return the red-head back under their "precious" lord's possessive eyes. "I assume you have already searched for any tracks."

"Of course, my lord," Botta assured, breaking from his stance to gesture to a nearby Renegade captain. The captain hand signed something back, a signal that was clearly negative for the aide hissed under his breath. Recovering his formal posture, he reported back to Yuan, "Some animals, even possible monsters, have wandered around the site, but according to our specialist, no footprints of any biped coming or going."

The blunette looked back at the hovering cliffside, crossing his arms beneath his thick cloak. "No need for footprints when you've got wings," he muttered under his breath. He looked up the evening sky, the many stars above not bringing even the slightest spark of wonder. If what he feared was true, Kratos could have taken his son just about anywhere and it would be yet another goose-chase to try and track him down. If that were not enough, with what happened tonight, chances were Kratos would be doubly on-guard and with only a son to protect, all the more fierce. He inquired to Botta, "Any chance any of the residents of Iselia could have interfered?"

"Highly unlikely if not impossible," the brunette answered. "According to what some of the men have dug up, Forcystus keeps a tight reign on this place. Villagers keep strictly to their so-called agreement and don't come this near the Ranch. Another rule is to not travel at night. With how cowed the Desians have people around here I find it hard to believe anyone could not only stumble upon this site, meddle with Desian affairs, but also remove any traces of such activity. With no reports of even a single trouble-maker in these parts, I find it hard to believe that anyone would have the caliber to do such a thing even if they were to disobey curfew."

"Your position does not require you to hypothesize so much," Yuan snapped, not even half-heartedly. Botta's network of information was a system he had trained himself and there was no reason to doubt these words. It just irked him like a strike to the funny bone that so much had fallen from his grasp. So much for his hopes of delivering a shattered Kratos into Yggdrasil's care. Still, he resolved himself, all was not ultimately lost. One in the position he was in- especially in the position he was in- had to have plenty of back-up plans available, and Yuan had grown use to developing them on the fly. No, all was not lost. There would be other nights and days to find Kratos, wherever he had chosen to hide himself. Perhaps this quaint search would keep Yggdrasil occupied enough. Knowing his superior, Yuan highly suspected the controlling blonde would consider it like he had all along, merely a game to pass the time with. Yuan just had to risk that Yggdrasil would keep seeing it like this.

It was not the worst gamble he had ever made.

"Call your men back," Yuan made a sweeping motion at Botta. "We will return to base and make our way back to headquarters in the morning."

The brunette dutifully followed orders and echoed the command down the chain of leadership. As the men regrouped, Botta allowed himself to seem a little worried. "Will it be alright like this?" he asked quietly. Even he was unused to questioning the seraphim. "All the planning leading up to this night and with nothing to show for it?"

"I'll handle the reports myself," Yuan assured, his coolness coming back as his mind busied itself with making more plans and backup plans. "Not to fear. We will make the very best of what happened here. You'll see."

As satisfied as he would be, Botta bowed humbly and turned to the task of directing his wearied troop of men back to Forcystus's Ranch. Yuan watched his Renegades march on, uncomplaining. Yes, they would make the best of this and any other obstacle that came in their path. Teal eyes glanced once more at the ebony sky full of watching stars and hardened his resolve to an impenetrable point before following. No, nothing would get in his way.

Especially not an old friend and a half-breed excuse of a child.

~File One: SAVED~

"Hell and night must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light."

-Othello, Shakespeare

---

For Kat,

Whose conversation was continually interrupted by the genesis for this concept, and who patiently sat in the backseat to both vehicle and conversation for us to debate it.