#also Lloyd's name means sacred or holy; so the girl name was chosen to also mean sacred or holy. Or at least it's supposed to

[ninjaslegos]

Hit me with the angst it could be anyone tho i am biased towards Zane morro and jay I will take anything as long as it gets my tears flowing

M...Morro angst...hnnnnng okay okay so like PERFECT and VERY SAD plotline for this one, although it will get gruesome...

Greedy for Green

Where Morro didn't expect this, he didn't want this; he didn't want this at all.

Of course Morro loved you. That's why he forced you to come on this journey with him. He loved you, and couldn't leave you, so you had no choice.

“Morro, please,” you begged with small tears, “you’re obsessed; you’ve been getting hurt more often, you haven’t been eating or sleeping as well, and you’re growing weak. You don’t have to be the Green Ninja to be powerful, it’s just not your destiny.”

“Shut up!” He snapped, pinning you to the wall by your shoulders, hurting you, “I’m not weak! If the golden weapons don’t think I’m worthy, then I’ll make them believe I’m worthy!”

“Morro!” Wu’s voice echoed through the room as he slammed his staff against the ground, “that is enough." He was angry for several reasons. "Go to your room until supper is ready, and don't come out." He scowled. He used to love him, and treat him like a son, but now there wasn't really anything left to love about the angry teen. He was surprised you saw anything at all.

"What do you know, old man?" Morro scoffs as he shoulders past his sensei. At least he wasn't fighting this time.

You exhaled with relief and slumped against the ground, crying softly. "Are you alright, (Y/N)?" Wu asks, kneeling down and putting a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm fine, Dad." You sniffle, "it's just that he's been so aggressive lately, and I don't know if it will stop...I've tried reasoning with him, but he doesn't want to listen to me."

He hugs you tightly, "it's okay, it's not your fault." His words comfort you, but you know from experience that it only works for a little while. "It's my fault; I got his hopes up, and it broke him." He smiles, smoothing down your hair, "come, I've made some cookies, and I think you are well-deserving of one."

"Before dinner?" You ask, and he nods, making you grin excitedly.

He was just glad you didn't follow in Morro's footsteps, or your mother's, for that matter. Wu loved her, and had a child with her. You. Unfortunately, she died when you were young, sacrificing herself to become The Sun so life could flourish in Ninjago. You'd together greet her every morning at dawn with happy smiles and waving, and tell her goodnight every dusk. He knew she was watching you grow.

During dinner, it's awkward and quiet. Wu watched with disproving eyes as he watched Morro fawn over his child, who in his mind, deserved better. Of course, he'd always liked you since the day Wu took him in, just as friends. However, ever since he was introduced to the idea of becoming the Green Ninja, it was like the only things that mattered to him in his life was training and you. He found it disturbing, to be honest. "So, (Y/N), did you hear the news from your Uncle?"

You shook your head, swallowing your food before speaking, "no, did something happen?"

He nods with a happy smile, "you're going to be a cousin very soon."

Your jaw drops, and your utensils fall onto your plate, "really?! No way, when? Do they know if it's a boy or a girl? What are they naming it? Garmadon Jr.?" You gleefully belt out questions that Wu didn't really have any answers to.

"Well, your name is (Y/N) Wu, so I expect his kid's last name will be Garmadon."

"If it's a girl, he should name her Olya, and if it's a boy, he should name him Lloyd." You grin.

"Those are...interesting names." He chuckles. "I'll let him know." He glances over to see Morro isn't paying attention, looking rather disinterested.

"I think I'm full." He says, plate barely even half empty, as he leaves to go to his room.

"Morro, you really should eat more...then you can have dessert with me!" You look up at him with sad eyes, as you try to get him to stay.

He stares back, blinking, then smiles. "No thank you, really, you deserve to have as many cookies as you can eat." It's a false smile, as the moment his back is turned to you, he glares at Wu as he leaves.

In his mind, you were perfect. You were sweet, simple, naive, and best of all, gullible. You believed in him more than anyone else when he was told he could be the Green Ninja, but it disappeared so quickly when the golden weapons didn't react to him. That was okay, he reasoned with himself, you just believed in destiny too much. You were younger than him, and he could understand that. All he had to do journey to the tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master, to prove to you that destiny was fake, that he could become the Green Ninja by force, and that you can carve your own path. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure whether or not he needed a descendant to find the tomb, or even enter it, so he had to take someone along. It certainly wasn't going to be your father, or your uncle, and he didn't want to wait for your cousin to be born.

"Wake up." He looks down at you while you are sleeping, and it startles you.

"Hey! Get out, you're not supposed to be in here!" You try to cover up with your blankets, as it was too hot to wear a shirt tonight. Morro didn't seem to care, though, and tugged them back off.

"Then get dressed, stupid." He hissed, going through your clothes and tossing you a loose shirt.

"I'm tired, can't we do this tomorrow?" You complain, rubbing your eyes and yawning.

His temper is short, he wants to get going before Wu wakes up. "Now."

You whimper in both sadness and fear, and dress yourself in front of him, since he doesn't seem to want to leave. Once you're done, he grabs your travelling bag, which is already packed with water, clothes, rations, and a sleeping bag. "Morro...where are we going?"

You look sad, but he needs to prove to you he is worthy. Your feelings about this right now don't matter. "We're going to the tomb."

"My Grandpa's tomb?" You gasp, "you can't," grabbing his arm, you tug, as if it would keep him here, "I wouldn't go, and even Dad doesn't dare go!" You sit down on your bed, "I'm not going, and I'm gonna tell Dad you're leaving! Then you'll have to stay."

He grabs a fistful of your hair, and puts a hand over your mouth to keep your cries silent. "I could've left without you, but I wanted to bring you with me." He's much stronger than you, and pulls you around to the exit of the monastery. "If I leave you here, Wu would just plant lies in your head about me, but I need to prove to you that I'm strong enough and determined enough to become the Green Ninja." You struggle in his grasp, but he does not let you go. "Just go back to sleep. I can carry you tonight. I've been training to sleep less for this reason."

Sure, Morro was your best friend, and you liked him, but this was too much; too far. You try to talk to him as you begin to sob and kick, but he can't hear your muffled begging. You were being kidnapped from your father, your home; everything you'd ever known. You panted heavily through your nose as your struggles weakened as you lost energy, but you couldn't give up just yet.

"Sleep, (Y/N), stop resisting. I'll take care of you, I'll protect you, I'll prove to you that I am strong and worthy." That was the last time you saw your father.

"Morro, I'm hungry." You complained. You'd been trudging through Ninjago for just over a week now, with no sign of your grandfather's tomb. "Dad's not going to like this, and neither will Grandpa." Your last rations were eaten yesterday, and you were just about ready to run out of water. You look up at The Sun, her heat beating down on you, "Mom's sad."

"Do you think I care about what they think?" He turns around to bark at you. "I'm so close to achieving everything." Sure you were tired, and sure you were limping from twisting your ankle, and sure you had a couple bruises from him manhandling you, but he convinced himself you were fine. You were weaker than him, of course this would happen. "Hurry up, stop being so slow."

You broke down into tears again. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm sore, I'm hot, and I want to go home." You sobbed.

He just grunted and picked you up by the back of the shirt, forcing you in front of him. "You'll thank me when I become the Green Ninja, I'll be strong, powerful, and we'll become a famous couple."

"I don't want to be famous!" You wailed. "I want to go home, I want to see Dad, I want it to be before you knew about the Green Ninja, and we would just spend all day cuddling and training! I wish you would just give up!"

He snapped, grabbing you by the collar and pulling you into his chest. "Why can't you see that I'm doing this for you?!" It was a partial lie, but one you needed to hear, because he believed you wouldn't stay by his side otherwise. "I'm doing this so I can give you everything!"

"I already had everything! I had my father, my home, you, and we were all happy together once."

You watched him clench his jaw. "We can still be happy, you just can't see it yet, but one day, you will." He leaned down and kissed you roughly. You weren't ready for it, and tried to pull away at first, but he just held you there. He lets you go then puts his hand on your cheek. "Soon you'll see, I'll make you happy once this is over."

You sniffed and rubbed your nose. "Promise?" He nods, and that's enough for you. "Then...can we be quick?"

"I'll carry you, but we won't get to eat until we either catch or find something." He offers, picking you up and holding you close to him.

"Why can't we go to a village? They have breads and cheeses and meats for sale."

"Depending on others is a sign of weakness. I've learned to let go, but I won't pressure you into something like that." He cooed, picking you up in his arms and carrying you to the distant rock formation. "I feel like that's it, up ahead."

For once during the trip, you seemed excited. "Finally, then I can say hi to my Grandpa!" By the time he reached the entrance of the tomb, you were frowning. "Are you really going to keep me safe? It's supposed to be the most dangerous place in Ninjago, to protect a treasure he left for my Dad and Uncle."

He scoffed. "I wouldn't bring you if I couldn't protect you." He rolled his eyes before climbing inside. It felt rather warm, so he put you down so your body heat wouldn't mix with his and cause the two of you to overheat.

"Are...you sure this is the right place? I don't feel anything; no connection." You looked around and touched the walls.

He gave you a skeptical look, "he's dead; why would you?" You opened your mouth to argue, but stopped and looked off to the side anxiously. You were tired of fighting him. "Keep up, I don't want to lose you."

Something was wrong, and you knew it. When you looked up at The Sun, she didn't hurt your eyes, and you could feel a special kind of warmth from her, the kind that comes from love instead of heat. When you were in this cave-like tomb, though, you didn't feel anything. Even your powers of creation weren't acting up, like they did when you were around sacred places like the monastery.

Paths split, the cave got deeper and hotter, and eerie lights came from certain hallways. "Morro, I know this isn't the right place. Let's turn back." You pleaded.

"No!" He turned back on you. "I know there's something here, and I need to get it!"

"You're wrong! If you did love me, you'd trust me and my instincts!" You insisted.

"I do love you!" He yelled. "But you've been annoying this whole trip; whining, complaining, getting hurt; I should've left you behind so you could sit at home making food and cleaning!"

"Is that all I'm worth to you? Cooking and cleaning? I'm strong too, Morro, and you've done nothing but ridicule me, and dismiss my needs! If you didn't want me here, why would you have taken me in the first place?!" You argued.

"You're the only one of his descendants dumb enough to follow me here, so I could get the realm crystal!!" He shouted, causing dirt to fall from the ceiling. Why was it quiet all of a sudden. You'd never had silent tears before. He messed up big time, and now he was trying to backpedal.

"You...you u-used me?" Your voice was barely louder than a whisper. You hiccuped and started to back away from him.

"No, no, (Y/N), that's not what I meant, you know that's not what I meant. You're my best friend, I love you, I wanted to marry you, remember?"

"For what?!" He'd never seen you stand up for yourself. He fucked up. "So-so you could use me there too? Why did you love me?! Fame? Money? House cleaning service?!" Your eyes began to glow gold, and cracks in the floor were starting to show, exposing hot lava beneath the ground. The cave was starting to shift, making things unstable.

"Please, calm down, I got mad, you know that. You're going to get hurt." You'd never done any of this before; and for once, he was actually scared. Were you stronger than he first thought? Stronger than him? You were probably going to open the floor entirely.

"ANSWER ME!!" You didn't listen to him, and the ceiling above you rumbled and specks fell to the ground. Too much yelling, and the whole thing could come now.

"I loved you because you were sweet! You were kind to me, and you were my best friend." His words seemed to calm you down, as you were no longer yelling or even talking. "Of course I'd love you, you're the greatest person to have ever lived, and I took that for granted. I tried to become the Green Ninja to impress you, but I was wrong." But he still wanted to become the very thing that drove you apart. "I'll take you home, right away, so you don't have to come on this journey with me. I'll look for another way."

Your eyes stopped glowing, and you sniffed. "I don't want you to take me home. I don't want to see you again. You're obsessed, I told you this before, and I thought I could help you, but you've made it very clear what's the most important to you. Don't come back to the monastery; it's not your home anymore." And with that, you turned and left.

"(Y/N), stop." Morro commanded, but for once, you didn't listen to him. "Stop, please." He begged. Finally, he snarled; you were ignoring him. "(Y/N) Wu, don't you DARE leave me here!!" More crumbling from the ceiling. "I love you! Don't do this, or you're going to regret it! DON'T LEAVE!!" He yelled too loud.

You gasped and turned around to look back at him. Why did he yell? The cave was starting to collapse ahead of you, and you rushed to get to him, where the ceiling was more stable, so you could find another exit out. You were not that fast; not with your twisted ankle. You stumbled over it, falling to the ground, where you were promptly buried under impenetrable rock and stone.

He couldn't move, he couldn't say a thing. Your hand was still sticking out, as if reaching for him, but it was much too far away from the rock that buried you, and the large splatter of blood told him that the owner of that hand was very much dead. He swallowed thickly, falling to his knees as he still tried to comprehend both what he had done, and what the consequences to his actions were. You were gone. You were just a stain on the floor and a severed hand. You were dead. You were dead, dead, dead, dead, de- "NO, (Y/N)!!" He screamed, as it all caught up to him. This was his fault, as he tried to dig into the heavy rock. He would've given anything to be an earth elemental right now instead of this useless wind one. Maybe then he could've prevented the collapse.

Guilt weighed heavily in his heart. Now that you were gone, he realized how much he truly did love and want you. He threw it all away for power, because he blindly believed he could gain everything he lost since he would have the power to get it all back; but nothing in the world would bring you back from death, especially one like this. Your body was flattened, and there was almost nothing left of you. He dug his hands into the ground around your blood and tried to collect it; maybe he could present it to your father so he could use his creation powers to recreate your body and bring you back to life.

No, he decided, it was a dumb idea. You were created through birth; only your grandfather had the ability to create life from nothing, but he was dead as well as you. He couldn't do it; what was the point of staying here anymore? You wouldn't get to see or celebrate his accomplishments with him, and who knows what your living family would do to him if he came back but you didn't. They would probably curse him or torture him. He probably deserved it, though.

Through the cracks in the earth, lava still flowed. He had to find some way to apologize, or at least show how regretful he was. It stung at first, like a burn from getting too close to fire, but that wasn't the worst of it. His flesh began to sear and cook, the aroma of something unfamiliar and alarming in the air, but he still did not try to put himself out. He cried, screamed in agony, yet he continued on with his mission. If he could stay this dedicated to becoming the Green Ninja, then he could be just as dedicated to apologizing to you.

Suddenly, there was a voice in his head. "It's always such a shame that one as strong as you dies so young." His body still ached, but it was fading. He was no longer on fire, and his entire body had turned a transparent green.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

The being did not answer him. "They are not here. They are something new." Before him was an image; it was a roundish in the sky, one that glowed beautifully, despite all the holes and craters in it. "You made those." The voice spoke, referring to the craters. "I think it adds to The Moon's beauty."

"...Moon?" He was slightly confused now. He could've connected the dots if he really wanted to, but he was scared, worried, and lost.

"(Y/N). You have made them The Moon."

The voice was right; he looked closer and it looked like a bright version of you, curled up with a sad frown on your face, and a little tear by your closed eye. You looked like you were sleeping; although not peacefully.

"It is alright to grieve, but remember that you have also created beauty."

The Preeminent spent a long time convincing him that he was right; that he deserved to become the Green Ninja, that you were just being selfish, and that you looked a lot better in the sky. As the words were repeated, he began to truly believe them.

"The Moon looks beautiful." He smiles up at you.

Lloyd's body is filled with both rage and sorrow. He'd always wondered why The Moon smiled down so sweetly to him, and why his father told him his name came from it, but now he understood perfectly. "You...you killed my cousin!" He yelled through tears.

"Yes." He turns to face Lloyd with a sick grin. "They wanted to see you when you were born, but now from up there, they can see everything. They can see how much I love them, and then they'll stop crying."

This was news to Lloyd. Did other people see different things in you? You smiled down to him, but cried for Morro. He understood. "They're crying because you've become something unlovable to them."

[darkhymns-fic]

saints

On the night of Lloyd’s fall, everything changes.

Or maybe, it just all shifted to where it should have been to begin with.

[Based off Lloyd's Side Story]

Fandom: Tales of Crestoria/Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel, Lutesse, Raine Sage, Genis Sage Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: I loved the potential of this side story (even if it's messy) and might write more for it, but for now this is what I was able to get out with my first impressions of it.

--

He woke up to the sound of crying.

Opening his eyes was a struggle, the throbbing in his head so persistent, like someone forever knocking on a locked door. At first, he wanted to keep them closed, hoping the darkness would help somewhat. But it still came to him in even rhythms, still knocked and knocked, until finally Lloyd had to let the light inside.

The house he was in… he didn’t recognize. The ceiling covered in crossing wooden beams, the oak finely polished to a near shine. Yet still, the knocking wouldn't cease. If only he could stop thinking…

Near the ceiling were the tips of bookcases, and of course, they were filled with books, their bindings ranging from pristine to frayed. Sometimes there were figurines on the shelves, of tiny animals mostly, seeming to have been designed by a careful hand.

They weren’t important.

Instead he looked to his left, to a girl that was seated at his bedside – and only then did he realize he was lying in a bed, the covers tucked up to his chin. Something was also wrapped around his forehead, though he could barely see what.

She saw he was awake, blinking the tears from her eyes. “Lloyd?” she called, moving closer. Oh. It was her hand on his head, so soft. He could feel the gentle pressure of her fingers, how they helped make the throbbing lessen, even if just for a little bit. “Does it hurt? Are you okay?”

Maybe just then, he was still too hurt to say anything. Or maybe he did, and he’d forgotten.

But he remembered looking at her, watching her cry, and thinking, I’m sorry.

He didn’t know why he thought that, but still, he knew he was the reason for her tears. He must have fallen asleep right after, lulled by the warmth of her hand. Never had he known what it was like to be safe like this.

That had been Lloyd’s very first memory.

.

.

.

--

When Lutesse had been told of Lloyd’s fall, she hadn’t moved from her study. Not right away, at least.

“Is the wound serious?” she had asked of the messenger, eyes still focused on her work – a great tome that she penned into, words carefully scribed, leaving no blots of ink in their travel. Raine had always admired the woman for her studiousness, her dedication to her people, to keeping their isolated village intact, and for accepting both her and her little brother in.

Still, she had thought the elven matriarch would have raised her head up at the news.

“It very well may be,” she said, hand clutching at her staff. She remembered how light Lloyd had felt when she carried him, how different his face looked from before… “His fall was a long one, but he must have grabbed onto the cliff side at one point. It looks like he’s suffered from a concussion. I have him at my home currently, if that is alright.”

Lutesse continued to write in her book, her robes barely making a wrinkle as she sat at her chair.

“I’ve given him as much healing as I can,” Raine continued.

Lutesse finally placed down her pen on the desk, turned her gaze to the half-elf.  “Then all there is left is time. I trust your talents, such as when the Chosen had been injured.” The praise she would give her was always wonderful, yet right now, it was hard to appreciate, remembering the shaking of a small boy in her arms, how the blood fell from the gash on his head… It had been harder than usual to close it up with First Aid…

“Speaking of the Chosen, I have not seen her today.” There was no question being asked, yet Raine heard it in her tone.

“She is also at my home, with Lloyd.” Another grip on her staff. “She feels…responsible for his fall.”

Lutesse raised an eyebrow. “Ah, now it all makes sense. Perhaps this is karmic retribution for what he has done to the Chosen.”

Raine held back any expression from her face. She had…said something similar when Genis and Colette had called to her. Of the gods and their ways of punishment. Only now did she taste the bitterness of it. “Perhaps,” she repeated, yet could not resist adding, “But he is only a child still.”

“And our ways during childhood shapes us. Maybe even more so for humans.”

Then why…? Raine was quick enough to hold her tongue. “Yes, of course.”

She half-expected orders from Lutesse to bring Lloyd to her home, or to a healing place within the village. She fully expected her to order the Chosen to return to her home for certain.

But instead Lutesse simply nodded and went back to her work in runic transcription. “Thank you for all that you have done for this village, Raine.”

Followed by the thoughtful scratching of pen against paper, the gentle creak of the oak chair she sat on.

Seeing that as her cue to leave, Raine bowed, then headed out the door. At least, this would be the first time her and Genis would have company staying over for the night…

--

Colette had always been told that she was meant for much more, that she had been created in their image, her power so great that it could even rival that of a god’s, for only the elves could make something so divine.

Yet, try as she much, she couldn’t remember her very first day of being alive. Wouldn’t a god-like creation recall something so simple?

It had never been made a secret to Colette just what she was. It was clear to her when she went to the Great Pasca Tree as a child, hearing its whispers in the rustling of its leaves. No elf or human could read the mana as well underneath their senses, not like she could. It was in the way everyone surrounded her, a respectful distance away, wherever she went, and always following Chief Lutesse.

It was the respect one gave to a holy structure, to a sacred altar – not to a living, breathing person. But then again, she was not a person. Once, long ago, she did not mind. She couldn’t mind at all. A Chosen like her did not need feelings.

Though she could not remember her first day of living, she could remember something else – of when she had first lied.

As she stood before the Tree, the warm bark underneath her hand, Lutesse had asked her, “Do you hear its lament?” The elven woman was regal in her bearing, but her eyes holding so much less. Colette could feel it, like ice pricking her skin. “Do you hear its cries, Chosen?”

She did not tell Lutesse about how the Great Pasca Tree was enjoying the sunshine, how it thought Colette’s hand tickled at its trunk. She did not speak of how the Tree could feel the skitters of squirrels over its boughs, and only hoped that the birds making their nests on it could do so with a bit more gentleness.

So instead, she nodded to Lutesse, and said, “Yes, of course.” She knew, somehow, that was the only acceptable answer.

But hearing the thoughts of trees on the wind was not useful to her now, not their musings of the world at large, or their eagerness of the storm they could feel brewing in the currents, giving them much coveted rain.

The Great Tree could not tell her if Lloyd would be alright.

“Colette, you’re still here?” Genis had asked of her, staying a few feet away from the bed that Lloyd laid in. It happened to be Genis’, one that Raine had said would be better for his size. The boy had been huffy on that but didn’t voice any obvious complaints. “Sis said she would take care of him.”

Colette, seated in a small chair that Raine provided, said nothing, just squeezing Lloyd’s very still hand. “I want to make sure that… he’s…”

“But… but he tried to kill you!” Genis shouted suddenly. She could hear the strangled gasp in his throat. “I…I mean…”

No, because that was true, wasn’t it? Until she had tripped instead.

“Sorry… I can go and make us some food and just…” Genis said little else. He couldn’t, and so walked away, leaving the room quietly, until his footsteps were followed by the soft clicking of the door.

Colette wondered what was wrong with her.

She gripped Lloyd’s hand so tightly, her thoughts feeling so fuzzy and weak.  What could she have said to Genis? How could she tell him what she saw as Lloyd fell? It was my fault. If only I wasn’t clumsy…

And did it even make sense for a divine creation to do something so simple as tripping over a root, to barely miss the hands that just brushed her shoulders before falling over the edge? No, it could only mean that she had done so on purpose. That she had wanted to make Lloyd fall after all that he had done to her; pulling at her hair, calling her names… getting closer to her than anyone ever had.

The fear she saw in his eyes as he fell changed her then. And suddenly, she was crying for the very first time. It was strangely so very relieving.

She kept crying, even as she saw his eyes open for a brief moment, saw the way he looked at her then before he fell right back to sleep.

How the glaze in them, along with that fear, was gone.

--

When Lloyd had been found, he had been curled up underneath the Great Pasca Tree, his shirt frayed, his brown hair dirty with mud and twigs.

Humans were not allowed near the Village of Keepers, but Lutesse had halted the guard’s swords, drawn to silence the yelling of a child who looked to be no older than eight years, who scurried back until his back hit the trunk of the giant Tree. One guard noted he held no vision orb around his neck, which was an oddity all on its own.

It irked her, for a human to taint something so holy and sacred with their presence, but she held herself back as well. As she looked into Lloyd’s eyes, she saw something hollow, something very painful… and so very useful.

“Have him cleaned up and deliver him to my home,” she had instructed, looking down at the boy for just a moment longer before turning away. “Do not harm him.”

She had heard the echoes of protests, saw it in her retinue’s faces before biting it away. Oh, how she understood, but they could not see the possibilities of the future such as she. They could not fathom that even a worthless human could be a key for their own glorious destinies.

In short time, Lloyd was placed within a room, complete with the comforts one needed, but when she went to him, he was merely seated on the floor, knees tugged into his chest. His clothes were clean and well-presented, but his hair was still unruly, making her frown. Whether the blame could be assigned to her people tasked on cleaning him up, or the boy himself, she couldn’t really determine just yet.

She went to retrieve a comb on a nearby dresser, then walked towards him, deftly grabbing him by the arm to lift him to his feet. “On the bed. We will get those tangles out.”

“L-Let go!” the child shouted. But her appearance belied her strength, and so the boy was unable to break free. She pulled him to a seat beside her on the carefully arranged bedsheets, then went to run the comb’s teeth through a forest of russet knots and twists. A whimper left his throat, followed by a glare at her.

“Move your head,” she ordered, one hand on his chin to make him face forward. But she had seen the look in those eyes; more filled with pain than hatred, something that the boy had been taught.

Humans always did breed ugliness in their own kin.

“Your name,” she demanded as she continued to brush, seeing tears pinprick at his eyes as she did so. “You must have one.”

Small hands clenched at his knees, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shorts, but he didn’t try to struggle. He bit his lip, looking pointedly away. “Lloyd.”

She nodded. “Suits you,” she said. Another tug at the brush, but Lloyd tried his best not to whine. “We found no one else nearby. Do you know of where your parents may be?”

Nothing from Lloyd, again just looking forward, letting her continue with her small torture of hair detangling.

Or did they send you here? she questioned, but not aloud. Of course, it all made sense to her that the Order would be involved in this. But the barbaric ways of humans were always so plainly obvious – the latest being about their fascination with exterminating so-called Transgressors. Such self-destructive beings, like a snake eating its very own tail.

“If you can’t remember your parents, or your home, then it seems you have no other place.” She gave a smile, small and barely imperceptible. “You will stay here.”

She saw a conflict within Lloyd’s expression; a mixture of relief, of dread, of pain once more. If her suspicions were correct, this would be the best outcome for him and those who raised him. But also… the ugliness of humanity all residing in this one child. What better way than to show the Chosen what meaning her sacred duty had?

A sword must weather fire and tension before becoming strong. This would be for her own good – if she survived this lesson.

“Then it is settled,” she announced, finished with her brushing. The boy’s hair was still not perfect, for it curled in peculiar waves, but she decided it was for the best. Another sign of the chaotic nature of humans. “The hour is late, so be sure to rest up for tomorrow.”

She made to leave, but then saw his eyes flick to her, for a moment, different once more.

“Why… are you being nice to me?”

Again, that confusion and pain within him. He seemed to struggle to get the words out, as if something held him back, something unnatural. Perhaps there were healing artes that could rectify such a thing… but no, this was to her advantage. Besides, it would be educational to see the effects of whatever Lloyd had been through to see played out before her.

“It is our duty to extend aid to those in need,” she said, intoning an old elven adage, albeit an adage that was only meant for elves. And with that thought, she decided to ask Lloyd a question of her own. “And you know what I am, do you not?”

Lloyd hesitated, hands gripping the mattress beneath him. “An elf.” He paused. “You’re all elves.”

Ah, was the venom in his voice natural? Or another of the vile lessons bestowed on him? It didn’t matter. He would be useful either way.

“We are,” she confirmed for him, brushing back a lock of his brown hair from his forehead, only to have it spring back to the front again. She shrugged. “And you will learn to live with that reality, Lloyd.”

But that was then, barely a year ago. Now, Lloyd was not here. He was staying at Raine’s, sleeping away an injury, with the Chosen by his side.

Lutesse had gone to his room, seeing his unkempt bed (despite how much she had told him to keep it fixed) the wooden swords laying against the bedside, the figure of a woodland bird on his desk, one that he had silently asked Lutesse to purchase from an elven merchant in a rare moment of quietude.

Either way, there was no real loss. They would continue with their plans, teaching the Chosen to manipulate the Trees correctly. She had already seen the worst of what humanity could be, all through the actions of Lloyd. She did not deny for a moment that his fall was an attempt on the Chosen’s life.

If the Chosen had died this night through his actions, it would simply be a hinderance. They would make another creation, this time with steadier feet. And if Lloyd died this night-

If he died… it would not matter.

Still, Lutesse stayed at the doorway to his room, remembering the feel of his hair underneath his fingers. Sometimes, the boy would have nightmares while he slept, and she would simply stay at his side, bidding him to sleep so that she could finally rest herself.

She would only know in the morning what his fate was. It’s karmic retribution, she had thought firmly.

Yet, throughout the night, she could not sleep.

--

Genis had been the only one besides Colette to have seen Lloyd’s fall.

It was hard to be close to the sullen child, to one who would barely say a word and keep to himself. Genis had heard the other elven children talk about humans, and with the only human he had ever seen acting just as the stories said; bitter and withdrawn, with a rashness to his actions that made him seek out Colette, Genis had thought he had known all there was to Lloyd’s nature.

But he didn’t understand what Colette had seen in him.

The Chosen had always been different herself, always pointedly separated from the other children. Lutesee, who retrieved the girl from her classes for her own lessons, kept that separation intact. But where the Chief would appear, the boy named Lloyd would soon follow.

Lloyd didn’t seem to care about the sacred distance, always crossing over a line and getting too close, reaching for anything of the Chosen to grab or push.

And Colette would never pull away, eyes drawn to him instantly over everything else.

It was at the Great Pasca Tree where he had found them both. Genis had gone searching for the Chosen, an inquiry from his sister as the hour was getting late. Colette almost always hung around the Tree, even after her lessons on the tuning of the Great Trees had been completed for the day. He didn’t talk with her much, half-worried he would be in the way, half-concerned that the human part of him would infect her somehow.

But not only Colette was there. Lloyd was too, standing beneath the tree, craning his head up to see the branches. Colette had been standing right behind him, the wind ruffling her hair, showing off her pointed ears.

Genis could not hear what they were saying to each other, or if they were saying anything at all. The sunlight was in his eyes, colored pink from being so close to the horizon. Colette was moving closer to Lloyd, and when Lloyd turned, the shadows of the leaves above him seemed to cover his face. But Genis remembered how often the boy would hassle Colette, how he’d push her down, or reach for her hair to pull roughly. Sometimes, it would take an elven guard to slap the boy’s hands away.

Colette was too close to him, and in his fear, Genis shouted, “Look out!”

Lutesse had taught them that humans couldn’t be trusted. It didn’t make Lloyd any different, even if she took him in. Even if she…

Colette turned towards him, and suddenly Lloyd shook his head, something painful in his eyes that could now be seen. His hands, as if they were being pulled from him, reached out to Colette to grasp her by her hair once more.

And then Colette slipped out of his grasp and ran. Lloyd followed, and soon Genis followed too, the incantations to fire spells hovering on his tongue. But he was still learning his magic artes and couldn’t remember just how it went…

All three ran down through the forest, past the glades and meadows, until they reached the edges of cliffs, until Genis had to brush away large grass stalks to finally get to them both.

It must have been a miracle from the gods, to have Colette suddenly dodge from Lloyd’s hands, to have him fall from where he had meant to push her into instead. Genis had at least thought so, seeing their work at play just then, as if a hand had pushed Lloyd over instead, while nudging Colette out of the way.

But Colette, the Chosen, didn’t seem to think so. It made Genis question so much more than he was comfortable with at his age.

Once Raine was home, he had seated himself at the kitchen table with her, kicking his feet against the chair legs, pushing away a lump of a mashed potato in his plate with the air quiet around them.

“Don’t play with your food, Genis,” Raine had said, though her tone was light, barely reprimanding at all.

“I made the food…” he argued, just as weakly back. Still, neither wanted to speak on what was unsaid, of the sacred Chosen staying with them, watching over a boy who they knew had jus tried to murder her.

He had seen it. And yet, he felt conflicted. Isn’t this what humans were like?

“Raine,” he said, his voice soft compared to the night wind blowing outside. “Was this supposed to happen?”

His sister took a long time to respond, that at first, he thought she hadn’t heard. But when he raised his head, she had a pensive look on her face, eyes occasionally glancing back towards the door that led to the room where…

“It just happened,” she told him. “We’ve healed him, and now all we can do is wait.” Raine reached out to stroke her brother’s hair, eyes gentle. “Nothing more.”

Genis wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but he would have to accept it. Raine didn’t like it when he went against her too often.

He wondered why the gods could be cruel sometimes.

--

When Lloyd slept, all he had dreamed of was something so dark. Not like the way the moonlight would shine through his bedroom window, making him feel slightly calm, or the way the shadows of that giant tree near the village would fall over his face when he looked up at it. This was the darkness of a cramped room, the shadows of hands keeping him still, all while his head continued to ache and ache.

And then suddenly, the headache was gone.

Lloyd woke up once more, this time to that darkness that was much more comforting than the other. He could see the moonlight peeking outside through the branches of nearby trees, but noted how much smaller this window was. He blinked again, wondering at this room, at this place with all its unfamiliarity.

He turned, and found Colette next to him, seated on a small chair, head laying on the bed. Her hand was still against his forehead, still so soft and warm. It shifted the linen bandage wrapped around him, its knot tied to the left side.

“Colette?” he whispered, feeling so weak, remembering when she had cried earlier.

She woke up easily, telling him that she must not have fallen deeply into sleep at all. “L-Lloyd?” she stuttered, all while her hand kept steady on him. “Lloyd…”

He wondered just then how he knew her name, how he recognized his own. But, he had to be sure. “You mean…me?”

At that, Colette blinked. Her other hand reached for his blanket, gripping it tight. “Yeah… you’re Lloyd,” she said. In the moonlight, he could see the pointed tips of her ears poking out from her golden hair. It was fascinating, making him wish he could reach out and touch them. “You had an accident, and it was… Don’t you remember?”

Lloyd furrowed his brows, tried to think about it – and was then met with a wave of pain thudding in his head. He winced. “Agh… it hurts…to think…”

Colette (a name he knows, that he keeps) continued to stroke his head, the rhythm of it already brushing away the dull pain he had been feeling. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have…” He saw her struggle once again to speak, swallowing hard. “What about Genis… or Lutesse?” Her eyes were such a wide and bright blue that he didn’t want to look away. “What about them?”

Lloyd thought on those names she said, felt something tug, but then – nothing. He shook his head. “I don’t know...”

Colette bowed her head, looking away. “It’s my fault…”

But there was one thing Lloyd knew for sure, beyond his own name and hers. He didn’t want to make her cry again.

So he sat up, doing his best to push away the heavy blanket off his shoulders and reached for both of her hands. “Hey! Why are you so sad?”

Colette raised her eyes to him, bright with tears about to form again. That gaze flicked from their interlocked hands back to his face. He saw confusion in them, which only heightened his own.

“Because…I messed up,” she admitted softly. “And you don’t remember anything.”

On some level, Lloyd knew she was right. He didn’t remember this house he was in, or the glade that lay outside of the windows. He didn’t know why he was even here at all, sleeping to the warmth of her hand on his head.

“But I remember you,” he said, feeling more confident in that than in anything else. “At least, I think I do. Is that weird?”

Colette looked conflicted, back again to their hands and to his face. She seemed to struggle with something, and it only made Lloyd want to keep reaching out to her

“You live with Lutesse… and I live with the other Keepers.” She pressed her fingers into his palm, carefully, as if this was a new sensation. “If there’s anyone you should remember, it should be her…”

“Why should it be?” he asked, almost bluntly.

Maybe it was too much, because suddenly, the tears she held back fell down her cheeks, dripped onto the backs of their linked hands.

“But it’s my fault! If I made you this way…” A sniffle, all as she tried to blink away her tears. “I didn’t mean to change you.”

Lloyd blinked, understanding – at least slightly. It was that word she used: changed.

But was change that bad?

He looked to their hands again, at the way they fitted against each other, at how tightly hers clung to his. “Maybe I don’t totally get it… but, I just know that I feel happy right now,” he said, and felt a smile on his face. Somehow, he knew that it had been a very long time since he’d done something like this. “Yeah, I feel happy. Isn’t that good enough?”

Or maybe, he was just being really dumb…

Colette stopped her tears, unable to wipe them away as they kept holding hands. But she never let go or try to slip away her fingers from his. So he saw those tears fall within this quiet room, as the wind continued to rustle the trees outside.

“You’re happy because…why?” she asked him.

Lloyd had to think on that answer carefully, because all he knew was that the fuzzy warmth in his chest didn’t leave, that it had started ever since he woke to her stroking his head. “Because you were here for me, weren’t you?” he asked her in turn. He squeezed her hands. “I don’t remember what happened before. Maybe I don’t want to… But whatever I did to make you cry, I promise to never do that again!”

He grinned then, feeling so sure of himself, more freeing than ever before. It was like something had been lifted off him, like a fog that he had never known he was living inside of in the first place.

He knew he had Colette to thank for that. He knew that so deeply in his heart, even if she didn’t believe it herself.

She cried a bit less, and Lloyd would have waited with her so patiently to wait for her to finish – until he felt a sneeze sneak up on him and had to turn his head away to the side. “Ah-choo!”

The sound was so sudden it made Colette gasp, staring at him.

“Er, sorry… Guess I got a cold or something…” Maybe that was why he was in this bed?

And something about what he said made Colette’s lips twitch, made the shine in her eyes sparkle just a little differently. Until she was finally giggling.

“You’re…really silly…”

There was that smile that he wanted, that he hadn’t known he wanted so much until right now.

“If you think a sneeze is funny, maybe you’re the silly one here!”

As he expected, it made her laugh more. Even if most of his memory was a blank, he knew he had never liked a sound so much before.

She’s such a dork, he thought, rubbing his thumbs against her hands.

Another gust of wind made him remember that it was still nighttime, that the hour was probably very late. He did have some questions on what exactly happened, on where he was, but he was also very sleepy and slightly cold. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown off that blanket…

“Aren’t you sleepy?” Colette asked, maybe seeing the question on his face. She yawned then, and it made him wonder… How long had she been up tonight?

“I think you’re the sleepy one!” And so he scurried back just a bit on the bed, all while still holding her hands. “You can sleep here if you want.”

It only made sense to him. He didn’t want to let her go.

If Colette had any protests to it, she didn’t say it. Even as she stared at him, head tilting just a bit to the side. It showed off more of her pointed ears that he knew was different from his own. He liked those differences, wanted to know more about them.

“I should be…” she started to say, but she paused, and Lloyd used that pause to gently nudge her towards him.

“It’s okay. We can worry about stuff in the morning, right?”

Little did Lloyd know was that each word he was saying, each gentle squeeze of his hands against Colette’s was like a sun peeking through dark clouds that had covered the sky for so long. And who wouldn’t be drawn to such a sight and feel its warmth on their skin?

“Yeah!” she agreed, the lightness in her voice so new and refreshing. She practically stumbled onto the bed, nearly hitting Lloyd’s chin with her head. “S-sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it!” And Lloyd really didn’t want to worry about anything anymore. He wondered if he even could, with the smile continuing to stretch his cheeks.

It took a while but soon they both settled underneath thick blankets, in a home that wasn’t their own, in a bed that didn’t belong to either of them. Something about that made Lloyd eager and excited. When Colette laid down next to him, seeing her eyes and ears so up close, she asked him, “Does your head still hurt?”

The bandage around his head shifted again, felt a bit tender, but that was it. “Not really,” he said. “But, can you stroke my head like you did before anyway?” It had felt really nice.

Colette didn’t hesitate, already reaching out to dig her fingers in his hair, petting him so gently that it already made him so sleepy. “This is nice,” he heard her say.

Lloyd knew he never wanted to let this feeling go.

It was only in the morning that Raine and Genis went inside to see the child that was the Chosen, and the boy that had once held such hurt in his eyes, cuddled against each other in bed, both looking so small. Yet they slept peacefully, even as the sun streamed in through the window, illuminating their faces.

All throughout the night, they still held hands.

--

.

.

.

The Great Pasca Tree had been the one to find him first.

Lloyd had woken up to cold and darkness, but the branches that stretched out over him shielded him from the rain, their shivering leaves settling down the sharpness in his head. Back then, his head had always hurt, no matter what he did. Even afterwards, when Lutesse would comb his hair, when he’d be in classes, when he’d try to practice with his new swords, trying to drive out the ache that would continually dull and throb.

Except, sometimes, it would hurt less when he came to the Tree, craning his neck until he could see to the very top of it, so far back that he would have fallen backwards if not careful.

“Do you hear them too?” a voice had asked him once. The Chosen was next to him, the girl that was so distant from everyone else, the one that he was always drawn to.

But she always knew where to find him first. Behind the schoolhouse where he escaped to be alone, to the training grounds where he’d practice with the swords by himself, even to the gates of his home with Lutesse, when he’d see her searching for him…

She was clasping her hands in front of her, eyes flicking from the branches to him – seeing him, or wanting to. “Pasca says they hope you will feel better today.”

The tips of her ears poked through her hair, wishing he could just touch them instead of tugging at them, wishing he could just hold her hands instead of pulling at them both. But something about the girl made him want to know her, even through the awful pounding in his head, through the shouting that told him to do awful things.

All this time, he had felt so broken. So broken that he didn’t know what to say.

A shout from far-off made him panicked, made Colette run off, and Lloyd had only wanted to follow her. And as he left the shade of Pasca’s branches, his headache grew worse, until he felt that his very skull would shatter from the intensity.

He had rushed after her, (to push, to grab, to beg) and then he had tripped, or maybe he had meant to jump off all along to get rid of the pain that wouldn’t leave, and as he fell and fell into a chasm that seemed to stretch on forever, that made him see her face last as he went and-

He woke up to the sound of crying.

He looked to his left, to the same girl that was seated at his bedside – and only then did he realize he was lying in a bed, the covers tucked up to his chin. Something was also wrapped around his forehead, though he could barely see what.

She saw he was awake, blinking the tears from her eyes. “Lloyd?” she called, moving closer. Oh. It was her hand on his head, so soft. He could feel the gentle pressure of her fingers, how they helped make the throbbing lessen, even if just for a little bit. “Does it hurt? Are you okay?”

Never had he known what it was like to be safe like this.

Never had he known what it was like to be this happy.

That had been Lloyd’s first and precious memory.