#phaidra brunel

[ravinoforre]

Something low key and cutesy for Colloyd Day ❤️💍

[darkhymns-fic]

Pilgrimage

Lloyd had never seen Colette's grandmother, who she goes to visit everyday and bring food. It is only when the wolf decides to follow the girl, dressed always in her red riding hood down a long and winding path in the woods, that he finally realizes… [Werewolf AU]

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Phaidra Brunel Rating: T Word Count: 5599 Mirror: AO3 Notes: A special treat for Halloween, where I decide to visit this AU once again! Visit AO3 for previous chapters of this story. May or may not have some spooks.

--

It's autumn again, when Colette comes to see him.

For the past few months, Lloyd found himself needing to keep moving through the forest, no longer keeping to one cave or a small glade. He was being tracked—even when he wasn't entirely sure by whom. Sometimes he thinks it's that same huntsman, who had held a gun over his knees, finger over the trigger, watching him with caution. He'll hear a familiar step over the dead leaves before he rushes away, hoping to evade another encounter.

Even if the man’s eyes no longer seemed distant or cold. But Lloyd didn’t feel like speaking with him yet. Some other time, he would think, rushing off to somewhere else so he could be alone.

Sometimes, usually at night, he thinks he’s being tracked by the bear named Mithos. He hasn't heard sounds, anything at all. But at certain moments, when the moon is full, or the night was unnaturally quiet, he would feel something. A shadow, a cold shiver in his spine, one that makes him run even faster until his lungs hurt. Those are the days he couldn’t really stand still, or even really sleep. He would prowl among the brush, searching and waiting, searching and waiting.

And then, the hollow, empty feeling would leave. But such nights happened too often now.

It was different with Colette. With her footsteps, which always landed over the fallen leaves carefully, as if afraid she would crush them too harshly, Lloyd would catch a scent. Sometimes it was of the food she was carrying, other times it was of the lavender in her hair.

He couldn't run away from that. He'd just run towards it instead.

Lloyd found Colette leaning against a tree, tracing the intertwined roots beneath with her left shoe. A thought briefly lit up in his head, one to surprise her with a tiny growl and his hands reaching for her own. His tail thumped against the ground as he waited behind her, but before he could do anything, Colette leapt from her spot and jumped right into the brush. Her hands found the sleeves of the jacket he wore, fingers tracing upward.

"Ha! Caught you!"

Lloyd blinked before he gave a little snicker, revealing sharp teeth. "Hey, no fair! I was about to get you first!"

"You're getting sloppy then." Colette smiled as she tugged at something around his neck, a little chiming sound echoing around them. "I know the sound your collar makes. I’m surprised you’re still wearing it.”

Sometimes Lloyd forgot he was still wearing the small gift from her. It was of red leather, clasped around his throat when she brought him home one day, In case you get lost! He had never really understood the logic, but he wanted to keep her happy and wore it with no complaints. He looked down, watching Colette press the shiny tag with her thumb. 

“Guess I’ve gotten used to it,” Lloyd said with a shrug. Then he leaned down to kiss her, as he always did when she came to see him. A gentle brush against her lips, no longer as worrying or shy as before. The lavender scent was even stronger the closer he was to her, his hand reaching up to cradle her cheek.

She kissed him back, feeling her fingertips at his neck—but it ended too quickly. She pulled back, looking towards her right briefly before she smiled again. “Sorry. I didn’t bring any extra food with me this time. I only have enough for my grandmother when I go see her later. Father was around the house today so I couldn’t sneak in another helping.”

“Oh, uh, that’s fine. I already feel full from the last meal you gave me.” Lloyd raised an eyebrow. “Is…everything alright?”

“Yep!” Colette had said that way too quickly, but already she was taking his hand, further past the trees into the glade. The sun’s rays couldn’t push through the boughs overhead, the leaves still hanging on despite their gold and orange colors. It was dim, with the occasional spider web blocking their path, but Colette would simply avoid those, pointing at an orbweaver or two, fascinated by their patterns.

On their walk, she avoided his eyes, and her grip on his hand was tight.

“Here seems nice,” Colette said, taking a seat on the grass. Her red cloak spread among the leaves behind her, like a shimmering crimson lake. She also put down her basket to her left, but it was as she said. She had brought no food, and though Lloyd was a little disappointed, it’s not like he was starving. 

She patted the leaf pile next to her. “Sit!”

Lloyd tilted his head at her. “You’re doing that thing again. Where you think I’m a dog.” But he obeyed, quickly sitting himself next to her, his tail brushing aside the leaves.

“Oh, whoops,” Colette said, pushing aside a lock of her hair over her ear. “It must be because of the collar.”

Still, he noticed she wouldn’t look at him—not unless she needed to. Her hands fidgeted with each other, and her eyes kept shifting to the trees. Was she nervous about him? Or about this part of the forest?

He knew something that could help.

Lloyd moved a little closer, and then put his head right into her lap. “Whoops. Maybe I’m a dog after all…” His tail wagged rapidly. “I want some pets!”

If this had been a few months ago, he would have been embarrassed. Well, he still kinda was, but he had to admit that Colette was way too good at petting…

He got the expected reaction from her. Now she was all smiles, laughing cutely as she began stroking his ear and rubbing his furry pointed ears. “Aw, Lloyd! You’re so cute when you’re like this! Of course I’ll pet you.”

Success! But, her pets also made him a little sleepy. With a great yawn, he made himself a bit more comfortable over her knees, feeling her relaxing strokes. “Mmhmm….”

The glade was dim, but he felt what few rays of the sun continued to shine down. Bits of warmth against the chill breeze. The occasional pockets of birdsong around them. The scent of Colette’s hair.

She continued to pet him, to play with his hair, her fingers sometimes reaching to caress his cheek. She had never been afraid of him, of his claws that he dug a little against the grass, or his fangs that she must have felt in their kiss.

Her petting slowed. He could hear a soft stutter in her throat. She was still worried about something.

"Will you always be here?" Colette asked him, fingers running through his hair. "In the forest?"

Lloyd tried to keep himself awake, but her pets were always so soothing. His eyelids came dangerously close to lowering. "Huh… Y-yeah. It's just easier for me being here." Maybe she was going to ask him to stay in town again, but she should know it was still a bit impossible for him…

"Um, that's not exactly what I mean." Colette traced patterns across his scalp; the shapes of stars, of spirals, of little animal faces. "Just…will you be here five years from now? Ten? Or….will you have to leave someday?"

Lloyd blinked, suddenly more wide awake. He looked up at Colette's face, and even from the awkward angle, he could see her worried expression. In the way her lips pressed firm, in the way her eyes seemed so far away.

"Colette, what are you talking about?"

Cruel of him to ask, when he half-suspected, he realized.

She paused before speaking again. "You've been wandering more and more lately. I've noticed." Her fingers rubbed against his ear. "And going farther… like you're running from something."

Lloyd waited. How had she noticed? Then he remembered that Colette was one of the few people who knew these woods more than most. She had found him so easily, after all. How she came upon a scared shaking thing in the forest, so happy to offer him food.

"If it's Mr. Kratos, I can talk with him. I can tell him it's okay. I think…I think he's just worried about you, that's all."

His hand reached to find hers, interlacing their fingers. "It's not just him."

Colette may have seen the bear that night, but she had no idea how much it wanted to tear at her throat.

How much it pushed Lloyd to do the same.

“Lloyd?” The hood of her red cloak bundled up around her neck. Maybe it was the dim lighting, or the way his mind was still fuzzy from her touch, but, if he let his mind play tricks…

It would have almost looked like blood on her skin.

“There’s things out there that you don’t know about,” he whispered. “I’m just…watching out for them.”

And leading them away, if he needed to.

“I’m not going anywhere though, I promise.” He tried to give her an easy-going smile, brushing his tail against her knees as he looked up at her. Still, he saw the small worry lines at the corner of her eyes, even in the dimness. Her hands stilled within his hair, no longer stroking or petting.

“You can tell me anything, you know,” she said, her voice softer. “If you’re afraid of something, I want to help you. Won’t you let me?”

Lloyd had to do all he could to not deny it outright. He couldn’t let Colette be in danger again.

He couldn’t let Mithos find her again. The bear was slow. It always lumbered through the woods, even with no sound, leaving no tracks behind. But on most nights, Lloyd could feel that creature near.

He reached up to take the hand that has been petting it, clasping it tight. “I know. But, it’s okay. Like I said, I’m not going anywhere.”

And when Colette finally smiled back, maybe, he realized, he was getting better at lying now. Because he knew couldn’t keep throwing off the bear forever. He knew that one day, it was going to find him again. And anyone that happened to be too close to him.

I’ll protect Colette, he thought to himself. Even if it means leaving her.

—

However, Lloyd couldn’t follow his own advice sometimes.

When Colette finally left the glade, waving to him goodbye and going down the same forest path she always took every day, Lloyd decided to see where she went. He had never really done so before, too anxious and skittish in those earlier days, of both her and the huntsman that would occasionally appear by Colette’s side.

And the only other instance had been on that night, when he felt the bear so close, when it had been hunting Colette down.

Maybe, if he followed her now, he could still protect her from anything that got too close. That was his excuse as he moved through the brush, astounded at the steep slopes that Colette walked on, and through dark thickets. He had to be careful, aware of Colette’s good hearing, so he didn’t crinkle any fallen leaves or step on any twigs. It’s what he learned after all these years when hunting, to stalk and slink through the brush until he was ready.

Though, if someone were to see him now, they would think he was hunting Colette…

Soon, she arrived at her destination—a small, lone church made from stone. It was perched on the top of a hill, embedded against the cliffside. Lloyd had never seen it before, which was surprising. He had lived in these woods for as long as he could remember, yet had never stumbled upon this place. 

But why was there a church that was so far from town? Lloyd couldn’t imagine most people would walk this far just to pray.

Who would they even pray to? he also had to wonder. He felt he should know but couldn’t remember…

The hillside had another path to climb on, one that Colette went to with little hesitance despite how easy it looked to trip over. Lloyd watched nervously as she occasionally stumbled, gripping the tree he was hiding behind with his claws. She was getting farther away, and there was barely anything to hide behind on the hill besides the occasional bush. 

But what if she fell and hurt herself? He had to get closer! He held his breath, following along that same steep path. So light that he barely made tracks, so quiet that even the nearby crickets didn’t scurry away from him.

Somewhere on the hill was a small stump, its ends all ragged and the roots half-rising from the soil so that it created a little enclave beneath. Maybe a storm had destroyed it, though there was no sign of a log anywhere. Still, Lloyd made sure to hide within its opening, settling in the dirt but keeping his eye on Colette who finally made it to the top.

Lloyd watched her give a little sigh once she did, gripping the basket she carried more firmly in her right hand. He could also see more of the church, moss crawling along its sides, a banner flying from the breeze, with a symbol he couldn’t recognize. Again, it was such an odd place for a church, being in the middle of nowhere.

Twin doors fashioned by oak opened then, as if knowing Colette was here. She waved, rushing up to the front. “Good afternoon, grandmother! I brought some lunch!” 

Lloyd stared. Wait, her grandmother lived in a church? He always thought she lived inside some tiny cottage!

The woman that walked out was quite old and very much looked like a grandmother in Lloyd’s opinion. She had a bit of a hunch, bent over a wooden cane she gripped in her left hand, tapping it against the dirt. Her hair was a similar shade to Colette’s, arranged in a bun, but in a style that let her forelocks frame her face, wrapped in ribbons. An old-fashioned hairstyle that Lloyd could somehow recall, vaguely.

“Colette, it’s so good to see you.” She lifted her head, the wrinkles around her cheeks and mouth so deep and pronounced. Despite her soft tone, Lloyd could pick up her voice, his wolf ears catching even the faintest breath. “And just in time for the tea to be ready.”

There was something sharp about her eyes, he thought. At first, he had wondered why an old lady would be living by herself so far from town. But clearly, there was something more to her.

Through the open doors, the grandmother led Colette by the hand, both of them careful in their steps. The wind blew somewhat strong, lifting up her red cloak, its color catching Lloyd’s sight. It was the last thing he saw before the doors shut, the sound of it so loud within the woods, and oddly final.

Lloyd peeked out his head a bit more from beneath the stump, sniffing the air. He could still catch the scent of food that Colette brought—of honey-glazed ham, crisp apples, and some freshly-baked bread—on the breeze, but little else. And what he could catch from the church itself was strange; of something old and musty. Such a place must have been built decades ago, the walls crumbling, with only the stained glass windows on the side well taken-care of.

He stared at the building, his tail occasionally thumping the ground in thoughtfulness. Lunch didn’t usually take too long, so he could just wait until Colette was done and make sure she got back home safe! He nodded at the idea, satisfied. Maybe she’ll still have some leftovers?

Lloyd yawned wide, enough to crack his jaw, then scratched at his fur. The sun was pretty warm, and this space beneath the stump was warm and cozy. It’d been a while since Lloyd had napped at a new place…

—

It's too dark.

Ever since Lloyd became this, shadows are no longer an obstacle. His eyes can pierce through the dark nearly as well as his nose can, catching scents of a fleeing rabbit, or a skittish bird. Prey.

Foliage is outlined to him in all its details. He can see the eyes of other creatures stare back at him, confused at his existence. He can see the dips in the ground, careful to not slip, or the ridges of roots ahead.

But now he can't see anything.

Lloyd half-got up, his claws scrabbling at the ground. It feels different, no longer as loose as soil. It’s hard like stone, but he can’t understand why. 

This no longer feels like the forest. 

Something is breathing. Near him. On him.

Lloyd tries to move away, but there is a wall in front of him, one that he can’t see. He tries to move left, and meets another wall. To his right. Another. Even up top, something blocks his way. Trapped. Closing in. Suffocating.

The thing behind him breathes, and speaks, and reaches for him. What it says is unintelligible in every way. It blocks the exit. Or maybe there is none at all. Maybe Lloyd is stuck inside. Forever. In this place where he can’t sense anything, where he can’t feel the earth anymore, where he can’t hear anything except someone’s breathing.

But he catches a scent. It’s sudden and overwhelming. It stinks of rot and decay.

Like he’s trapped inside with a corpse.

Lloyd tries again, tries again to leave, his claws digging deep into the stone. It’s not enough. The thing behind him speaks again, opening its jaws to make it even more unbearable.

“You’ll be just like me.”

The air leaves him with nothing left to breathe in. Lloyd scratches at the wall.

“Everyone will see you as the monster you really are. Even her.”

A great weight crushes him to the ground. Suffocating him. Devouring him. He tries to scream, but no sound leaves him. He feels he’s gone deaf except for the voice that’s all around him.

“Why else do you stalk her through the woods if not to hunt her down?”

—

When Lloyd woke up, it was to the sound of his own shouts.

“Let…let me go!”

It clutched at his ribs, made him feel as if thorns were sprouting all around his throat. Breathing, once something he sought after desperately, was painful. Terrifying. His arms scrambled against walls again, and faintly recognized the feeling of bark against his claws. There was dirt on his knees, clinging to his fur. The earth again. Not encased in stone.

Lloyd had to calm himself to breathe normally again.

It’s not here, he tried to tell himself. It’s not here it’s not here.

But he still felt trapped.

With a shake of his head, Lloyd controlled himself well enough to finally squeeze himself out of the hollow beneath the stump. Fresh air hit him, ruffled his fur, his hands gripping the grass and feeling every soft blade against his palms. He breathed in and out. In and out. He clenched his sharp teeth, his fur standing on end.

It was sunset. The shadow of the church fell over him, and the stained glass windows reflected the sunlight in varying hues of orange and pink. Lloyd rubbed at his eyes, hoping for the images of the nightmare to finally disperse in the light.

It was dim, but not pitch black. He could still see the church and its crumbling walls, its strange spherical rooftop, and its moss-covered columns. He took in the sight, in the details that transformed from blurs to sharpness, until he realized there was something else there.

A person. One who stood before a nearby well that was placed by the side of the church and near the tree stump. The old woman clutched at a pail in one hand as she faced Lloyd, her body framed by the watercolored sky.

Lloyd was in the open now. He remembered then how he had just burst out from beneath the ground, shouting and breathing roughly. How he must look to her, with his ragged tail and sharp claws, and his eyes still shining bright from his nightmare.

Too late to run away and hide. He faced her, but slowly tried to back away. 

“S-sorry,” he stuttered out, not meaning to. The words had just come, leaving his throat in all its coarseness. He winced at the sound of them, the half-growls escaping with those words.

“Now, hold on,” spoke the old woman. She set the water pail down the path, placing both hands on the top of her cane. “Have you come for salvation then?”

The question was unexpected. Lloyd blinked, unsure how to answer the woman who didn’t seem bothered by his appearance—or at least, it wasn’t obvious she was. “I… I was just…sleeping before..”

The woman clucked her tongue. “Dangerous to sleep out in these woods. Many things hunt at this hour, you know. We have beds for those seeking help, or those who may have lost their way.” She gestured to the church with her cane. “You must have been guided by Martel Herself to us.”

The name sparked something in Lloyd’s head, but only slightly so. Like an electric shock against his fingertips that left him warm and a little in pain. He knew about Martel…A friend? A name said in passing?

“No…It was Colette,” he said, rubbing his head. “She said she was going to visit…”

He didn’t realize the old lady had hobbled closer. She was gazing at his great ears, and then at his tail that brushed away the dead leaves on the ground. “You’ve gone through so much trouble, haven’t you?”

Lloyd paused, watching as this old woman looked at him with a strange curiosity that was so familiar to him. He didn’t know how to react, instead eyeing her hands that were wrinkled with bones jutting against the skin.

He couldn’t help but ask, “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

The woman smiled, the wind shifting her golden hair. Though in her age, it had lost much of its shine. “I’ve known many like you. A curse like yours has existed for as long as I can remember.”

She shifted towards the church, gesturing to him to follow along. “We don’t turn the afflicted away. Come inside. I still have some food leftover from when my granddaughter visited.”

Such words prodded again at Lloyd’s memory, making him shake his head from the sleep that still clung to him. “Wait, about… Is Colette your granddaughter? Where is she?” Did he ask too roughly? He could still hear his own growls in his voice, at how unkempt his fur was now, which stood up more in the cold night that was coming.

“Oh, Colette? She’s already long gone, dear.” The old lady walked up to the side of the church, with Lloyd trailing after her quickly. She then entered through a small kitchen door, one that Lloyd had missed earlier. It blended in with the stone, its wood painted in the same color. “No matter how much I ask her, she never stays here until the morning. But she’s strong. I believe she will be safe.”

How had he already missed her? “I need to find her. I—” He winced, feeling himself shake. “Agh…”

“Have you eaten today? It wouldn’t be wise to go anywhere on an empty stomach.” The old woman reached for a woven basket on a nearby table, the dim sunlight streaming in through the door to highlight the iron pots that hung on racks, and a fireplace where some tea was still brewing in a hanging kettle.

“Th-thanks, grams,” Lloyd said, already reaching into the basket to munch on the first thing he grabbed: a few slices of the honey-glazed ham. The delicious taste of it brought a little more warmth to his limbs.

The old woman smiled, somehow not put off at all by his ravenous hunger, or how his sharp teeth must have been obvious by now. Then, as if propelled by a memory he couldn’t even remember, he swallowed his bite before speaking again.

“Sorry, I didn’t even give you my name. I'm Lloyd… Um, just Lloyd.”

She chuckled at his sudden politeness, and only turned away so she could grab the tea kettle with a well-used dish rag. “My name is Phaidra Brunel. I’m the priestess of this church, the last left.” She raised blue eyes to meet his own. “We don’t get many visitors here.”

“Yeah, I…can see that.” Lloyd stilled as he realized what he said and how rude it must have been. “Uh! I mean it’s so far away from town, and I barely see anyone else on the roads.”

Phaidra nodded, pouring the tea into a pair of porcelain cups, etched with blue whorls all around their surfaces. Lloyd noticed an extra cup off to the side, one with a small picture of a dog on its side. Had that been Colette's?

"Many would once make the pilgrimage here to the temple of Martel, but now it is mostly Colette who does so regularly. And she only does so to visit me instead of pray." She smiled softly and with sadness, gripping her own teacup with gnarled knuckles. "Very few remember the goddess nowadays."

Lloyd sipped at the cup she gave him, the flavor of it reminding him of Colette's home. This place sounded so lonely—maybe that was why Colette visited all the time. Especially if such an old lady lived here by herself, taking care of such a grand, if old, church.

"But, you know of the goddess, don't you?" Phaidra asked. "You know her name."

He stared, still holding the cup. "I do," he said. "But, I can't remember from where…"

She nodded. "Then please stay here. Maybe, with time, you'll remember her."

—

At Colette's home, she had also made him tea.

"It's a specialty from my grandmother," she had told him then. The cup she gave him had been worn with use, the paint on its side chipping away. But he had felt the tea's warmth through the porcelain, its dark color reminding him of the earth.

"Oh, is it too hot?" And as she leaned close, her hair brushed against his. He watched her blow the drink, making ripples along the surface. "There!"

"I'm okay with it being hot," he had said, but when he sipped, it was nice that the tea wasn't scalding. It let him taste the honey she had mixed in more easily.

"Then next time, I'll make it hotter," she had teased. And by her side was the same woven basket he always saw her carry. Because, once again, she was off to see her grandmother who lived deep in the woods…

—

It wasn’t a dream Lloyd was recalling as he walked down the hallways, night already settling in. Yet the memory played out in his head as if it happened right in front of him, brought on by the tea Phaidra had made, by the familiar symbols etched into a tablecloth, similar to what he had seen at Colette’s home.

He wished she was here still. He hoped she was safe. 

The hour was getting late when Lloyd went to see the main chapel, placed within the front of the church. Phaidra had said she needed to check on the rest of the church, such as the food storage and her own herb gardens. "You can see the others who made the pilgrimage here," she told him. “The goddess calls to those who are lost like you.”

He still didn’t really understand who this goddess was, but, if such a goddess made Phaidra accept him despite how he looked, maybe she wasn’t bad. Could such a goddess have an answer to what was going on with him?

Could…such a goddess heal him of what he was? He looked down at his hands, at the claws painted black, sharp enough to rend through most things. Maybe I really was supposed to come here…

Lloyd entered the great room from the side, and the first thing he saw was the statue of a woman. Placed in the far back, she seemed to tower over everything. Her right hand held a staff, its top framed with wings, while the other was turned palm-up, facing the heavens. The expression chiseled on her face was beautiful and calm, and her long hair flowing from her like some winding river, circling her form. On her dress, he saw the same familiar symbol as the church displayed on its tattered banner outside.

In the daylight, she must have looked amazing once the sun streamed in through the stained glass windows. But tonight, there was not even a full moon—thankfully, as it left him feeling less feral. She was only highlighted by the circle of candles placed around the statue’s base, elongating shadows down her face and across the carpeted floor.

And she was facing a roomful of empty pews, each row crumbling and empty.

Lloyd blinked, looking around the room, confused. “No one’s here?” he said aloud. “Phaidra said there were others…”

He felt awful for thinking it, but he began to suspect that Phaidra wasn’t exactly…all there in the head. It would explain why she didn’t seem to show any fear to his looks. She probably just thinks I’m having a bad hair day or something. He sighed. Maybe it was for the best that no one saw him now. Especially when it was so late at night.

Lloyd walked up to the statue, looking at her more, trying to pinpoint her to a place, to a person—to anything. It was there, sleeping in the back of his mind. But why did looking at her bring some other feeling to him? Something that loomed behind him like some hulking shadow. He felt his heart beat a little faster. He gripped a hand against his chest, clutching the shirt, his fur standing on end.

Something was wrong.

Movement shifted to his right. Someone was here, sitting at the pews. Someone was here. And he hadn’t seen them.

There was a boy sitting in the front row, but he didn’t kneel in supplication. He only sat there, looking up at the statue. The candles highlighted his pale face, his light blonde hair, and a white overcoat that cut through the dark. He continued staring, as if unaware Lloyd was even there.

Lloyd held his breath. He tried to edge away, a soft and soundless step on the carpet.

The boy turned.

The eyes of the bear stared back at him—along with a white-toothed smile. “So, you’ve come,” said Mithos.

Lloyd couldn’t move. 

The boy walked towards him gracefully and quickly, as if all in one motion. It wasn’t lumbering, and didn’t stink of rot, and maggots weren’t digging through his skull.

But even so, Lloyd felt some great shadow fall over him, rooting him in place. Or was that the shadow of the statue?

“Martel always accepted those who were different,” spoke the voice that had been a constant in his nightmares. It was soft and slithering, writhing through his chest like debilitating poison. “Because she was different too. She was tortured for it. She was killed for it.” Mithos faced Lloyd, hands clasped before him, near the hem of his coat. He smiled, but the smile was lifeless and cold. “I make sure that her suffering is never forgotten.”

Lloyd couldn’t make much sense of what Mithos was even saying—every word was pain in his ears. Every sentence made him want to wretch onto the carpet, made him want to tear and destroy everything and rip this entire church to the ground.

He must have fallen at some point. Because Mithos was soon kneeling over him, his eyes as dead as a corpse’s. “She shouldn’t be the only one to suffer. That just wouldn’t be fair, or just. And you, you’re all about justice, aren’t you?”

“I…I don’t…” Lloyd shook. His claws clutched at the carpet, ripping through the fabric.

A hand reached out, gripping him by the collar Colette had given him. 

“But you made it into some twisted little game with her.”

Lloyd couldn’t breathe. Just like before. Just like when he had clutched so desperately at his swords, but they had slipped from his hands as a great paw pinned him to the dirt. He had tried to fight back. He had tried so much. But the sight of great teeth took everything from him, until he was lost to the sound of his bones breaking apart, of his own skin being torn through again and again and again and again—

Furious barking echoed throughout the chapel.

Lloyd could suddenly breathe again, and he could move, so he swiped at Mithos before he could even think. Claws caught onto fabric, and in Mithos’ face, he saw rage twisted beyond anything else. It grew fur and fangs, and a skull was reflected in the candlelight, that of the bear that had haunted him ever since. There was barking again, sharp and angry. 

And then Mithos was no longer there.

Lloyd breathed hard, falling back to the floor. Soft footsteps padded up to him, a wet snout ruffling his hair. He opened his eyes, barely, to see green fur and big ears above him—and black eyes that had always been so anxious.

“...Noishe?” he whispered, unbelieving. But then darkness took him again, last seeing an old friend, standing before the statue of a stranger.

[bluestarrob91art-blog]

Comic 11! Kratos only had this job for a couple of minutes. 

[ahammz]

The Sylvarant Mana Lineage – Read by @taleslations

[richea]

[Translation] Kratos of the Expiation: End of chapter 1

This update brings us to page 50/317. It's a long one, covering 22 pages and 3 chapter parts. If you're interested in Kratos backstory crumbs, this is definitely one you'll want to read. For part 6: Dubbed / Subbed

Chapter 1: Part 4 of 6

Having received the oracle, the Chosen returned to her home with Kratos in tail. For the journey ahead, they’d need to write up his contract as a mercenary, as well as decide who would be tagging along. A map detailing the surrounding area was spread atop the dining table. The Chosen―Colette Brunel, her father―Frank Brunel, her grandmother―Phaidra Brunel, the village mayor, and Kratos all sat around it.

The first trial the Chosen must undergo―receiving the oracle―went as well as expected. It was the first time Kratos had witnessed it himself, but it went exactly as it had been described to him. The angel bearing the oracle descends and bestows a Cruxis Crystal upon the Chosen. A Cruxis Crystal is the same thing as a hi-Exsphere. Wearing this, the Chosen is ready to undergo the process of becoming an angel. From there, the Tower of Salvation―the symbol of regeneration―appears, and the Chosen is dispatched towards her next location. This was how the trial of the oracle always went. Remiel had been the previous oracle-bearing angel as well, and he seemed competent at the job. It seems he’d been informed that Kratos would be tagging along, which is why he wasn’t surprised to see him. Kratos wondered why he was acting as if Colette was his daughter, but he soon learned why. Apparently a rumor had spread in Iselia that the Chosen’s real father was actually an angel, and Remiel used that to his advantage.

“I suppose the place to start would be Triet. This was where my sister first embarked during her journey,” Phaidra, the old woman, stated as she gave the map a sharp look.

Phaidra is the previous Chosen’s younger sister. The air of refinement Kratos sensed when he met her in front of the temple wasn’t unfounded. She was a lot like her sister, Aithra. Kratos had been in charge during Aithra’s journey too. She left home on her Journey of Regeneration, carrying the hopes and dreams of humanity on her back―and perished. That was 70 years ago.

The Chosen’s lineage all grow up hearing various secrets of World Regeneration. Those secrets are not shared with the outside world, but are instead passed from parent to child, and child to grandchild. Many of those secrets involve the mortality of the Chosen, and due to this, those in the family tend to be clad in a different air than the rest of the world.

“Indeed. Triet is a city in the desert. We’ll need to prepare carefully in order to reach it.”

Kratos pointed out the route from Iselia to Triet on the map.

“This route is the best, as it gets us there the fastest while also avoiding as much trouble as possible. If you took the more direct path, you’d run into the sandworm’s nest.”

“You certainly know your stuff,” Frank said as he looked at Kratos with a hint of praise.

“I’m a mercenary. I need to know these things to get by.”

Kratos darted his eyes away from Frank and folded his arms. He stroked the muscle of his arm with his fingertip, and discovered that he was more tense than he realized. Explaining the route from Iselia to Triet had dredged up memories of that abhorrent journey. Even though he was an angel who wasn’t able to feel physical fatigue, the strain on him mentally made him feel weary. He felt an intense exhaustion wash over him, and before he knew it was forcing himself to blink back tears.

He knew the route between Triet and Iselia so well it hurt. That was the path he had taken when going to Iselia with his family of three; the village with a non-aggression treaty and ties to the human ranch.

“We’ll be leaving tomorrow, right?” Colette asked. Her hi-Exsphere―the Cruxis Crystal―glistened on her chest.

“Yes. It’d be best to leave as soon as possible. I’d like to set out before sunrise.”

“You’ll be leaving that early?”

Frank looked at Colette, worried. He was sending his daughter on a journey to her death, after all. He likely wanted to drag out their parting for as long as possible. But with the Renegades on the move, they didn’t have that luxury. Cruxis isn’t aware of this, but the one leading the Renegades is Yuan Ka-Fai, one of Cruxis’ top men. Kratos kept that a secret from everyone. It’s not like Yggdrasill had any interest in the Renegades, anyway.

Yuan probably wants to kill Colette as soon as possible. The Renegades operate to stop Martel’s revival, making Colette a big threat to them since she’s such a close match. Luckily, Yuan is currently overseeing Tethe’alla’s preparations for the World Regeneration, so he shouldn’t be able to do anything until he’s done with his briefing session with Pronyma, the leader of the Desian’s Five Grand Cardinals. Kratos wanted to pass through Triet before this happened. According to his research, the Renegade’s base was somewhere in Triet’s desert. Before Yuan returned to his post as one of the Renegades, Kratos wanted to cross through the desert.

The room had a heavy, gloomy atmosphere. As Kratos stood up to excuse himself as the only non-family member, the doorbell rang.

“Oh, that must be Raine.”

Phaidra got up to open the front door, and on the other side stood a beautiful silver-haired woman.

“I’m terribly sorry for running late.”

“We’ve been waiting for you. Come on in.”

Phaidra beckoned her inside, and Raine sat in a chair at the end of the table. Her eyes scanned the faces of those present, stopping at Kratos.

“Is this the mercenary who helped my students?”

Kratos nodded, and Raine flashed an obligatory smile at him in return.

“I’m Raine Sage, a teacher for this village’s school. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

It was a fair introduction, but Kratos could tell that she was being cautious. She seemed to be quite the wise woman.

“Kratos Aurion, a mercenary. I’m traveling around looking for work.”

“Work? In this area?”

“I’d heard rumors that the Chosen would soon be embarking on her Journey of Regeneration. I figured I’d swing by and see if any job opportunities popped up.”

“Then it sounds like you got exactly what you were looking for.”

Raine stared Kratos down. Kratos met her gaze, and Raine seemed content at that. She turned to look at Phaidra.

“I heard you wanted to speak with me?”

“Yes. Allow me to ask you once again: Would you be willing to accompany Colette on her journey? Your wisdom, calm decision making skills and healing artes would certainly come in handy.”

“I would love to, but I can’t just leave my brother Genis behind...”

“That child is your brother?”

Kratos thought back to the silver-haired boy from earlier that day. He used magic, and the only ones who are able to do that are those with elven blood. There are those out there who can get an injection that allows them to use magic, like Kratos himself did, but that’s limited to those within Cruxis’ ranks. Knowing that elves are almost extinct in Sylvarant narrowed down what these two might actually be.

“Yes.”

Raine looked at Kratos, cautious.

“We’ll look after Genis for you.”

Raine seemed shocked at Frank’s suggestion.

“Well... But why do you want me to go with her so badly? I’m aware the priests were killed, but surely there’s―”

“I wanted to have you accompany her from the get go,” Phaidra interjected quietly. “The Chosen of Regeneration will be on the path to her end, so I want a woman to accompany her, of whom she can confide in.”

“Her... end?” Raine muttered, and Colette flashed her a smile.

Seeing that smile made Kratos realize Colette truly had understood her fate as a Chosen. That’s likely why she was always so polite and warm.

“The Chosen undergoes a series of trials, and in doing so becomes an angel. After becoming an angel, she’s taken in by Cruxis, and there loses her life.”

Raine’s entire face stiffened. On the contrary, Colette kept a gentle smile on her face and nodded.

“By sacrificing the Chosen’s life, the world will be regenerated.”

“I... I can’t believe this...”

Kratos closed his eyes hearing them talk.

This conversation likely happened among the Chosen’s lineage each time the World Regeneration began. Though this wasn’t the full truth.

The Chosen doesn’t exactly “die.” She becomes a vacant, living corpse, and Martel takes over her body. From there, the Chosen herself ceases to exist and Martel takes her place. If this doesn’t happen, the Chosen is simply killed. Either way, the Chosen is doomed to a horrible fate. Kratos’ job was to lead her to that doom.

A demon. That’s what he was―a demon. He was neither angel nor human, just a horrible, terrible brute. Despite this, he knew that if the Chosen―if Colette succeeded and let Martel take over her body, the world would be saved.

“Professor Sage, please. I’d like you to come with me, and then return home to tell Lloyd and everyone else about my journey. You can tell them that I became an angel, and I’m living happily by the Goddess Martel’s side. I think that’d be better than them knowing I’m dead.”

“Colette...”

Raine desperately tried to hold back her tears at Colette’s words.

“I’m so sorry to ask something so hard of you, Professor...”

How would that boy react if this strong, kind Chosen were to disappear? The boy who had the same name as his son popped into Kratos’ head.

Chapter 1: Part 5 of 6

Botta’s report was incredibly irritating to Yuan. How embarrassing it was to have to send out a whole squad just to kill a 16 year old girl, and still manage to shamefully come back having failed to do that. He could maybe understand if they had just felt remorse for having to kill an innocent girl, but it wasn’t that. They had simply failed to do their job at all. How pathetic was that?

Though in a way, he couldn’t blame them given the circumstances.

Kratos Aurion had appeared. He was Yuan’s friend, as well as his biggest foe. It’s true that Botta likely wouldn’t hold a candle to him.

Yuan lost count of how many times he’d let out a deep sigh, and tossed the documents he was holding onto the desk.

It was frustrating to be stuck in Welgaia at a time like this. Though it was thanks to his position that he was able to swiftly get so many leads on what the Chosen of Regeneration was doing. He was stuck getting insider leads, but for someone who doesn’t like meticulous planning ahead, this was incredibly suffocating to Yuan.

There you are, getting mad again. There’s no need to stress so much. Just take a deep breath.

He felt as if he heard the voice of a woman he once knew.

Yuan gave a bitter smile. It was exactly times like this that required a clear and steady head.

Anyway, typically speaking, it would be unfathomable that Kratos would be at Iselia. Yuan was pretty sure Kratos wasn’t there by choice. That was a cursed, horrid land where Kratos lost his family. Even should he descend down to earth, that one area was the last place he would want to go.

There was only one person who would be able to order Kratos to do something against his will.

Mithos Yggdrasill. This was all likely part of his ruse. Yuan felt ashamed at his own inability to foresee this. He knew that this Chosen had a high chance of succeeding and that Yggdrasill would likely take whatever measures needed to ensure her success, but he never expected that he’d dispatch Kratos in order to do so. To Yggdrasill, Kratos was both the human who had betrayed him, as well as the very seal that holds back his biggest trump card. If by some chance Kratos were to die, Yggdrasill himself would fall.

Perhaps Yggdrasill doesn’t believe that “some chance” will come to pass. If so, the faith he places in Kratos is almost akin to a religious devotion, in a similar vein to the love he holds for his older sister, Martel.

The ringtone to his office’s communicator rang. Yuan hit the switch on the speaker system, as if it was the most irritating thing he’d ever do in his life.

“What do you want?”

“Lord Yuan. It is I, Pronyma of the Desian’s Five Grand Cardinals.”

“So you wish to speak about the World Regeneration. Very well then.”

Shortly after, Pronyma appeared in Yuan’s office. She bowed, and Yuan started to speak.

“So the time has finally arrived.”

“Indeed it has. The Tower of Salvation has appeared in Sylvarant, as I have seen with my own eyes.”

“Is that so. Then the Chosen is likely to embark on her journey soon enough. Speaking of,” Yuan continued on while keeping himself composed, so as to not raise suspicion, “have you finished your meeting with Kratos?”

Despite being one of Cruxis’ top men, Yuan hadn’t been informed that Kratos was down helping the Journey of Regeneration. Kratos is Sylvarant’s overseer. If he was down on earth, that would mean someone else is controlling the Desians. Depending on who was in charge, that would change how Yuan would have the Renegades operate. He needed to pry this information out of Pronyma.

“Did you not hear of what Lord Kratos is doing? It seems Lord Yggdrasill sent him down to earth on a mission.”

There was bewilderment in Pronyma’s words.

“...No, this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Yuan responded to her, feigning ignorance, which prompted her to tilt her head in confusion.

“Perhaps news is simply coming slowly to you because you are the overseer for Tethe’alla instead. I heard Lord Yggdrasill sent him as a bodyguard for the Chosen.”

Yggdrasill has no doubt about this Chosen becoming Martel’s vessel. He’s probably just keeping information tight in order to make sure absolutely nothing can go wrong. There’d be no other reason why Yuan would be kept this in the dark.

“...Lord Yuan, do you truly see no issue in Lord Kratos being a bodyguard?”

“What are you implying?”

“Nothing really. It’s just that when I heard that Lord Kratos had descended onto Sylvarant, that past incident sprung to mind...”

“I see.

Yuan glanced down at the map of Sylvarant and rested his elbows on his desk, exhausted.

It’s been 70 years since Kratos defected from Cruxis. The event had been a complete and utter surprise to both Yuan and Yggdrasill. Despite a number of quarrels, they had been under the impression that Kratos was going to support Yggdrasill in working towards his Age of Lifeless Beings. But unbeknownst to anyone, Kratos’ heart had made a quiet shift away from following Yggdrasill. He descended onto Sylvarant and seemingly disappeared. It was decades until Cruxis was able to find him again. When they finally did, Kratos had a woman by his side―his wife, Anna.

Anna was held in a human ranch as an Exsphere host body―a test subject who would grow an Exsphere in her body to produce a Cruxis Crystal, as part of the Angelus Project. However, she escaped from the ranch with the Cruxis Crystal still growing within her. Kratos had assisted her in doing so. The two of them wandered about Sylvarant aimlessly, as if looking for something, and Cruxis pursued them relentlessly.

It was during this time that Yuan, as the leader of the Renegades, secretly got in contact with Kratos. The two of them―rather, their family was staying in a small abandoned fishing hut by the seaside. When Yuan visited, Anna wasn’t found within the building that was falling apart.

---

“So this is where you’ve been living,” Yuan asked. Kratos―who was on night watch―lifted his head. His Cruxis Crystal had been removed from his hand. The light from the fire flickered against the battered boards of the hut’s wall. Strung up by pillars with rope was a cloth that Yuan didn’t recognize the purpose of.

“Yuan. Have you come to kill me?”

“...No. I came here as your old friend.”

“...Is that so.”

Kratos lifted up the pot and poured its contents into a cup. It was a very pleasant-smelling coffee. Yuan removed his cape and sat across from Kratos.

“Where’s Anna? It’s not safe for a woman to be wandering about at this hour.”

“She’s on the beach. Noishe is with her. Our son wouldn’t stop crying, so she brought him out so the sounds of the waves would calm him.”

“Son? You have a son?!”

Kratos nodded and handed Yuan a cup of coffee.

“He’s three months old.”

Yuan was dumbfounded and looked up at the ceiling of the hut. That weird looking cloth he saw hung up was a diaper. The is the man who was once a world-famous captain of the knights. For some reason, thinking about this made Yuan sad.

“I can’t believe this. Do you even understand what kind of position you’re in?”

“I’d like to believe I do.”

“What were you thinking? Having an infant around will only hinder you when you’re constantly on the run.”

“...You’re not wrong about that.”

A smile crawled on Kratos’ face and Yuan let out a sigh.

“What is your aim right now, anyway?”

“The same thing you’re trying to do. I want to stop Mithos and his Age of Lifeless Beings.”

It’s true that Yuan was operating as the Renegades in secret. Such a thing only made him more acutely aware of how hard it was to go against Yggdrasill’s operations.

“What exactly do you think you can accomplish all on your own?”

“I am alone, you’re right, but I have a trick up my sleeve that you don’t.”

This was true. Kratos possessed the one and only thing that Yggdrasill feared. Kratos was capable of disabling the Eternal Sword―the very thing that had allowed Yggdrasill to seize control over the entire world.

Long ago, Mithos Yggdrasill had won over the trust of the Summon Spirits and been adored by them. The Eternal Sword was granted to him by Origin as a sign of said trust. However, surely the King of the Summon Spirits wouldn’t approve of how the world had been split in two, as it still currently is. Therefore, Yggdrasill sealed Origin away. He used Kratos’ mana in order to do so, and Kratos would need to die in order for the seal to be undone.

“Your trump card costs you your very life. How do you plan to work around that?”

“That’s where you come in. I have an idea.”

Kratos stared at Yuan with determination in his eyes. Yuan stared back at him.

“My plan is to kill you and get Origin to recognize me as the Eternal Sword’s master. Are you saying you’ll give me your life?”

“Yes, after I land a lethal blow on Cruxis.”

“A lethal blow? Such as?”

“...I’m going to kill Mithos.” Kratos gulped down his coffee. “Once things are settled, you can have your way with undoing the seal on Origin.”

Yuan was speechless.

Killing Mithos―the weight of those words was not lost on Yuan.

He was a friend of theirs who they had spent months―years together with. He was the disciple to Kratos’ teacher, and at the same time, he was like family; they had such a warm bond between one another. Yggdrasill’s older sister―Martel―had entrusted Yggdrasill to Kratos. And even if Kratos did defeat Yggdrasill as he claims, he will perish along with him.

“Kratos... We have spent far too long simply twiddling our thumbs. We had simply tried to overlook the fact that Yggdrasill―no, that Mithos’ light no longer flickered as it once did. I know you feel the same way I do.”

Kratos gave no response. The hut fell silent, making the sound of the flames flickering feel even more prevalent. From a distance, the sound of a lullaby could be heard. It was Anna.

“Was having a family what finally turned you to determination?”

Kratos set his cup down and stood up. He was likely going to see Anna.

“...When the time comes, I’m going to have my family escape to Iselia. That village has the non-aggression treaty in place, after all.”

“Does she know about your plans?”

“...No. Not a thing.”

“And you’re just fine with keeping her in the dark?”

Yuan stood up as he asked this. He wasn’t actually looking for an answer. Words weren’t needed for Kratos to express affirmation. That’s just the kind of man he was.

---

“...I doubt we have anything to worry about.” Yuan spun around to face Pronyma and crossed his legs. “What matters is that he did come back. He even pledged his allegiance to Lord Yggdrasill.”

“Do you truly believe so?”

“Hmph. I see women are doubtful no matter the race. Kratos... has changed. Losing his family caused him to cast off his shell, becoming a mere husk of what he once was. What exactly do you think a husk is capable of doing?”

“...You are correct. I was too abrasive in my words, wasn’t I? I do ask for your forgiveness.”

“It’s no matter. Traitors are to be doubted. I do have to ask though, if Kratos is down on the Journey of Regeneration, who is it that’s controlling the Desians?”

“That would be me. I am to control them and report everything to Lord Yggdrasill.”

Pronyma had confirmed what was the worst possible scenario.

“...I see. Then there’s nothing to worry about.” Yuan tried his best to hide his internal conflict from Pronyma and gave her a nod. “Then let us discuss what is to become of Tethe’alla post-World Regeneration.”

Yuan slipped Pronyma the documents he had gathered. As she was distracted examining them, Yuan started to plot a way to bring about Yggdrasill’s demise.

Chapter 1: Part 6 of 6

Walking through the forest at night overwhelmed Kratos with a sense of deja vu. This was the first time Kratos had ever walked down this road, that was for sure. And yet the scenery itself was familiar.

That was 15 years ago. Dashing earnestly through the forest at night, chasing after his wife Anna and his son Lloyd. No matter how many he took down, enemies just kept popping up. It felt as if an entire lifetime passed before he finally caught up to Anna and Lloyd.

“Genis, why are you coming along?”

Walking in the front was Raine, who was speaking to her younger brother Genis who was trailing behind her. Hearing this snapped Kratos back to reality.

This wasn’t the same forest as back then. It was close, but it wasn’t the same place. What he’d seen was a mere illusion, prompted by some small obscurities lining up.

Deep within this forest lies the house of a dwarf. Raine claimed the dwarf was Lloyd Irving’s adoptive father. Colette wanted to say goodbye to Lloyd tonight, since they’d be setting off so early in the morning. Knowing the fate of the Chosen, it was only right they let her. This was her final farewell, after all.

Kratos surveyed the forest with a complicated feeling in his chest. Iselia Forest was familiar to him, and there was a boy here named Lloyd, who even had the same last name as his wife Anna―Irving. Things lined up too perfectly for him to simply dismiss it as all just being a coincidence. It’s not like Kratos had seen his son’s corpse with his own eyes. He wanted to hope that such a miracle had actually occurred. Simultaneously, a part of him begged that such a miracle didn’t occur. Either way, he was terrified of whatever the truth was.

“R-Raine, you’re scaring me.”

Genis shivered and hid behind Colette, who was walking beside him. Kratos couldn’t help but snicker at how he and Genis got scared at the same time.

“Wh-What’s so funny, mister?”

“...Nothing, ignore me. However, I think fear is something you feel from deep within your own heart. Perhaps you feel guilty about something, and that’s why Raine’s voice scared you?”

As if hitting a bulls-eye, Genis gulped.

“Genis. Did something happen? Your clothes do seem awfully dirty. Don’t tell me you got up to some sort of mischief?”

“N-No way! I was just, um, doing something with Lloyd, and...”

“Don’t tell me you got him involved too.”

“I-I said, I didn’t do anything bad! Geez! Can’t I just do stuff without you having to know everything? It’s none of your business!”

“...Fine. This forest is dangerous though, you know. I didn’t want you coming along.”

“It’ll be fine, Professor. Kratos is with us!”

Colette said this so innocently that all Raine could do was shrug her shoulders.

“You’re not wrong about that. Having a mercenary with us is reassuring, but...”

Raine stared at Kratos. At this, Genis also looked up at him.

“Mister, are you going with Colette tomorrow too?”

“I am.”

“Wow. Hey, how long do you think it’ll be until the world is regenerated?”

“Who can say?”

“I’ll do my best to come home as quickly as I can!”

Colette made a pose triumphantly. Genis grabbed at the end of Colette’s skirt and furrowed his eyebrows sadly.

“...Okay. We’ll all be waiting for you.”

They continued up a small hill, and the sound of a small stream came into earshot. In between the trees, a light could be seen. The dwarf’s house was close.

With his heightened hearing, Kratos could hear the sound of Lloyd and a man who sounded like a dwarf arguing.

“You didn’t let the Desians see your Exsphere, did you?”

Kratos felt as if a stake had been driven into his heart. He stopped in his tracks and shut off his hearing.

He’d seen that Lloyd had an Exsphere during the quarrel in front of the temple. But what did he mean by it being an Exsphere he had to hide from the Desians?

He wanted to know, and he also really didn’t want to know. He felt completely torn between the two options and bit his lip. While Kratos stood there completely spaced out, the rest of the group had already approached Lloyd’s house. It seems they’d finally also heard the argument from inside the house. They were standing in front of the door, looking at one another. Kratos approached while suppressing his hearing to the normal human-level. Even then, he could clearly hear Lloyd and the dwarf arguing. A shiver ran down his spine.

“...That Exsphere is your mother’s keepsake. The Desians killed your mother in order to take it from her.”

“...They did?”

“I told you about how I found you at the cliff near the ranch, right? Your mother was still conscious at that time, so she explained everything. There’s no doubt about it.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?!”

That was his limit. Standing behind the others, who were bewildered, Kratos shut his eyes and turned off his hearing entirely. He couldn’t bear to hear another word.

There was no doubt about it. He was... Kratos’ lost hope.

He sensed a person approaching. Kratos opened his eyes to see Lloyd standing there, looking at them all rather awkwardly. Kratos adjusted his hearing to be the normal level once again, and the boy’s voice filled his ears.

“Oh...let me guess...you heard that just now?”

“I’m sorry, because of me, you...”

For some reason, Genis was apologizing to Lloyd over what happened. Kratos wondered why, but that was the last of his worries right now. Kratos studied Lloyd’s house while taking shallow breaths so that nobody would notice. It was a wonderfully built two-story house. Dwarves typically live in caverns, so this was likely built for Lloyd’s sake. There was a bench, a flower bed, a clothesline...

As Kratos’ eyes scanned the surroundings, he spotted a stone monument in the garden. His eyes immediately went to study the stone’s engraved words.

Here lies Anna Irving.

Kratos’ face stiffened.

“Lloyd, let’s go up to the terrace.”

“Sure.”

Lloyd went to follow Colette inside the house, and Kratos uttered without thinking.

“This gravestone...”

“Huh?”

Lloyd stopped and turned around.

“Whose gravestone is this?”

“Ah, you heard, right? It’s my mom’s.”

“Anna...hmm... Is your father alive?”

Kratos wondered if his voice was quivering as he asked this. He swallowed. If Lloyd remembered anything from when he was an infant, then maybe...

“...I don’t know. But Dirk is my dad.”

It felt like all of the energy drained from Kratos’ body. He couldn’t tell whether it was from disappointment or relief.

“...Yes. That was a careless thing to ask. I’m sorry.”

One thing was clear.

Lloyd―his son that he failed to protect was alive and well.

Kratos felt as if he had finally regained the life he lost 15 years ago.

[mannatea]

Like Starlight, a Tales of Symphonia ‘fic

Words: 5,424 words Summary: Aithra Brunel is sixteen when she accepts the oracle and her new title: Sylvarant’s Chosen of Regeneration. Pairing/Character: Aithra/Cecil (OC) Warnings: Fantasy Racism, Character Death Rating: T Genre: Budding romance, tragedy.

The title is the link to Ao3.

Notes are under a cut.

Welcome to the world of me just making up everything. We know very little of Aithra or her family aside from the fact that they know what her fate is (just as Colette's family knows hers) and Phaidra is her little sister. I imagined a secluded little life for her in Iselia.

I'm sure other branches of the mana lineage live elsewhere in Sylvarant, but Iselia is so specifically hailed as the Village of Oracles with the non-aggression treaty and the temple close by, that it feels like this has been the home of the main part of the mana lineage for at least the last 200 years.

Also, selfishly, presenting her journey in the same order as Colette's should make it seem more familiar to anyone reading.

Colette has a surprising amount of freedom in her life, attending school and having friends, so I thought about how Phaidra might have influenced that as the family matriarch. I really grew attached to the idea of Aithra being sheltered and protected, and the regrets her parents might have felt when she left to die anyway, that they had never given her any freedoms. Phaidra may have grown up knowing about these regrets, and tried to do better for her daughter, and then for Colette too.

--

Snowfeather was the name of a long-haired white cat my family had when I was young.

--

Gooseberries are great. And gooseberry jam sure is something. I think it's stated somewhere that fruit is pretty rare in Sylvarant, due to the declining mana, so I imagine berry-bearing bushes are the go-to for things like jams. Even then, nothing is in bountiful supply.

I wanted the jam to feel like a very meaningful gift. Mother knows it's her favorite and worked really hard to get enough for a little jar for her journey because it was all she could do.

I can't begin to imagine how the parents feel in this situation. Terrible, I bet.

--

Aithra is pretty tall (like 5'10''+) and athletically built.

I gave her a spear because I didn't do any research on what she might have actually used (and I like the idea that the Chosen gets to pick their weapon of choice).

Her wings being silver is because I said so, and I wanted to make sure she felt different from everyone else we know who has manawings.

--

Cecil! I put him in my modern Aselia story as an artist Aithra loved when she was younger, and I decided to stick with that idea for him here, though the world doesn't really have space for an artist.

I gave him silver hair and eyes because I wanted to give them something like an instant connection, and this allowed for that with Aithra's worry-stone and the wings she's recently acquired.

--

The history of the character doesn't really explain how he was able to sneak in with the priests and even pretend to be one, so I decided if she really saved his life per the extra material, then it's possible he joined her on her journey.

From an outside perspective it seems unlikely that he would be allowed to join them, being a half-elf and all, but Aithra is a very faithful and devout Chosen, and has never given them cause to doubt her. It helps that she only meets Cecil because he is nearly killed; it seems clear he's not a Desian spy or anything.

Also, I think there might be something to be said about her being 16 and marching faithfully toward her death that makes them loosen the reins a bit. It doesn't really matter if she holds hands with a boy so long as she fulfills her duty.

--

Trust and Obey is a popular hymn, and I very nearly named the story after it. Had I been writing a much longer version of this story, I might have used the title to parallel Aithra's trust and obedience with Cecil's lack of these things at the end. While I did cover this theme in the story, the connection isn't as strong as I might have wanted to feel comfortable using this as a title.

(Even though I no longer associate myself with the religion of my youth, I do still find some comfort and a lot of joy in many of the old hymns. This one is not a particular favorite, but I grew up singing it and for that reason alone it makes me feel something.)

For the record, having a religious background makes writing devoutly religious characters easier. I spent the majority of my life in the church, and one thing we often discussed at length was Jesus's death. There is never a point in the Bible where it is implied that Jesus goes to his death happily. In these verses Jesus goes to the Gardens of Gethsemane:

38 Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me. 39 And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.

I like the way the Chosen's journey sort of parallels this sacrifice for the greater good/sins of others, and while I imagine many Chosens are willing to walk the path they've been born into without outward complaint, even for the most devout there comes a time when they wrestle with the weight of the burden they bear.

--

I found it interesting that Zelos and Colette both have long hair, and so does Martel. Phaidra does too, though she wears it up. It makes me think this is an important tradition, so I used it here.

--

There is something so so awful about her losing her mind the moment she loses her sense of touch, and I like to imagine it's more than her cruxis crystal doing this to her.

And if you think losing her mind when she loses her sense of touch is bad, I don't know, there is just something so incredibly terrible about her then losing her ability to speak. I imagine she is locked up in her body fighting and afraid.

Colette says at one point she cannot cry, but I like think for Colette that wasn't a physical restriction so much as born of other issues. For Aithra, she can just keep on crying, but eventually her voice is silenced. I think it makes the most sense to only lose the ability to cry when one's heart and memories are gone; then there is nothing to remember and nothing to long for and nothing to cry about any longer.

--

Excuse me for showing that Aithra is still in there, sometimes. She understands more than Cecil even realizes. It's just that she knows how this journey ends, so his hope is overwhelmingly tragic to her and now she can't even find her voice to tell him the truth.

Anyway, I didn't want the last part of this story to feel entirely hopeless, and I wanted to foreshadow the fact that Aithra will come to his defense when she sees him fighting for her.

--

The idea of Remiel using judgment to destroy the priests and Cecil was too iconic and fascinating to not use.

--

The true tragedy of this story is that after Aithra dies, the official story that reaches the world is that she was killed by Desians.

--

If you made it through the story I would really appreciate feedback on it. This isn't the kind of thing I usually write (so I'm a little nervous about posting it).

And if I'm being honest, it made me really like these characters. If I had any drawing skill worth a damn, I'd illustrate this. Sadly (or perhaps thankfully), I don't possess the skill. So you are free from my madness for now.

Thank you for reading!

[umbry-fic]

“Happy Birthday, Colette.”

Summary: Six different birthdays (or the lack thereof), and six different perspectives.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Frank Brunel, Phaidra Brunel, Genis Sage, Raine Sage Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel & Frank Brunel, Colette Brunel & Phaidra Brunel, Colette Brunel & Raine Sage, Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving & Genis Sage Rating: G Word Count: 12493 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 29/08/2021

Notes: This one's also late...

Happy 18th anniversary Tales of Symphonia! This fic has some canon divergences (most notably the religious festivals don't occur because I forgot about them :p).

~~~

1. Frank Brunel

“And if the baby’s a girl, I’ll name her Colette,” Ariel said, gazing down at her swollen stomach with fond eyes.

“Colette…?” Frank repeated. He took his wife’s hand, which was resting on the wooden bench they were both sitting on, outside of his home, in the garden Mother diligently tended to and kept in tip-top condition.

He’d heard that name somewhere before, but was unable to scramble up a solid memory, the threads he tried to grab onto slipping through his fingers. Just faint impressions of a girl in the schoolhouse, and perhaps of bright laughter, filling up the empty space like explosions of stardust.

“Oh, I don’t blame you for not remembering her.” Ariel sighed, angling her head up to look into the sky. Her gaze was distant, like she was seeing far further than just the azure heavens, dotted with fluffy white clouds with the sun cresting over them, washing the world with warm sunlight. “It’s been… more than a decade since she left for the Journey of Regeneration, after all.”

The words “Journey of Regeneration” were enough to spark Frank’s memory. The fog slowly cleared until he had a clear picture of a girl with auburn hair, sparkling blue eyes and a mischievous grin teasing him in the classroom, a shy Ariel peeking out from behind her back.

It also reminded him why he’d chosen to forget, to block all recollection of the girl from his mind and be left with nothing but a ghost of her, whispering in his ear occasionally and sending a chill down his back. For his memories of the previous Chosen of Regeneration weren’t all of fun times at school. They were mostly dominated by the final time he’d seen her - all that remained of her, that was.

Grisly images flooded his mind - the bloody remnants of one young girl, who had failed to reach the Tower of Salvation and died earlier than her preordained fate, in an unknown, gruesome manner that he could only speculate over.

Ariel had never seen her sister in that state, for it was the Church’s responsibility to make the body presentable to the family. The Mana Lineage was not to be scarred and scared off, after all. In the case of the previous Chosen, that had meant a closed casket.

Frank, as the son of the Head Priestess, had not been spared. He had been roped in to help with the whole process. Of retrieving the body. Of trying to hide the carnage. Of sweeping the horror under the rug and presenting everything neatly like a present wrapped in a pretty bow.

The weight of it all had pressed on him, rooting him to the spot, unable to even run outside and escape it all. Yet the older priests had seemed so used to it. They had been calm, going about their business, even making small talk, like this was a normal occurrence. The whole experience had verged on absurdity, and he’d had to keep down hysterical giggles the entire time.

The scene had been etched into his mind, all of his senses overwhelmed - the thick, iron stench of blood, the sharp thorns of the rose he set onto the casket pricking his finger, the glint of white bone under the gentle candlelight from the chandelier. Being reminded of it now was enough to bring it all rushing back, sending bile racing up his throat. That single memory had overshadowed all of the good ones he had, and clearly, his mind had decided to just shut it all away.

“If you’re wondering why my sister,” Ariel continued, squeezing his hand. She must have noticed his silence, and how he had looked away, having to resist the urge to clap his hand over his mouth. He didn’t want to throw up in Mother’s prized rose bushes. But Ariel made no mention of it. “Well… She was an incredible person, if you remember. She was always protecting me, and standing up for anyone who got bullied. She had such a strength about her, and I hope our little child can be just as strong.”

Ariel held up a steady hand, smiling as a butterfly came to a stop on her fingertips, its wings, dark as night, fluttering gently.

Frank took a shaky breath, wondering whether or not to broach the topic that had come to mind at the mention of the Chosen. He didn’t want to sour the date he had specially brought her out here to partake in. But he couldn’t control the next words that slipped out of his mouth.

“Do you want our child to be Chosen?”

He could see the exact moment the question registered. The way Ariel’s lips tightened, the way her shoulders tensed, the way she dropped her gaze to the grass by her feet, unable to meet his eyes.

“It would be a great honour!” Her voice was two pitches off, her gaze shifty, almost like she expected a priest to be hiding in the rose bush, eavesdropping on them. A ridiculous image, but her paranoia was warranted.

“There’s no one here, Ariel. I promise. So you can speak your truth.”

His words, and the squeeze of his hand, appeared to have been enough to calm her jitters. She hesitantly locked eyes with him again, brows furrowed.

“The truth?” she whispered, shaking her head as her grip on his hand tightened. “I don’t want that. Not for our child. Maybe it’s selfish, to put my own desires ahead of the Goddess’ and ahead of Sylvarant. It’s not the way I was taught, that’s for certain.” Ariel let out a shaky laugh, screwing her eyes shut. “The pressure they would have to shoulder. It’s unimaginable… And the danger? I don’t want my child to have to go through a life-threatening journey. I just… want to watch them grow up and have a happy, normal life. As normal a life as they can get as part of the Mana Lineage, that is.” Ariel chuckled without a hint of humour in her voice.

A normal life for their child… Planting flowers in the garden, going to school, making friends… Watching them grow taller, with a sunny smile on their face…

“That’s not selfish,” he insisted, hating the tears budding in the corners of Ariel’s eyes, because he understood the anguish she felt. It was his own, and he wished neither of them had to experience this. He wished things could be anything but the way they were now. “It’s what I want as well.”

It’s all he wanted, and it would all be stolen away if their child became Chosen.

“Well, all we can do is pray. The one thing we cannot do is go against the Goddess.” Ariel placed a protective hand on her stomach, cracking a shaky smile.

The angels may choose their child to be the next Chosen, or any of the children they may go on to have, or just skip this generation altogether. The choice was not up to the two of them, and they held no power to influence their child’s fate.

Any struggle was futile. The Church could not be denied, and they were locked into whatever fate was decided for them. It was much like this marriage was arranged. He had still fallen in love with Ariel in the time he had spent with her, learned to take comfort in her company and seek the feeling of her arms around him. But, this current life was not the one he would have originally chosen.

“It’ll be alright.” He placed his hand over the one on her stomach, interlocking their fingers. Ariel had excitedly reported a kick just last week, but it appeared the little one was asleep at the moment. “We’ll love them no matter what, right?”

“Right.” Ariel’s smile became a tad more genuine, and she blinked her tears away before they could escape.

“And we don’t know if they’ll be the next Chosen. So we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Right! It’s not worth it to worry over that right now. We’ll get through it together. Thank you, Frank.”

He swallowed down the final piece of knowledge he held, which he had hidden away the moment he was informed he’d be marrying Ariel. It would undo the lie Ariel had been told about the ultimate fate of the Chosen, which had been fed to her by her parents and her sister, in a bid to protect her fragile heart from the cruel truth.

Frank was privy to that truth - how the Chosen would give up their soul and become an empty vessel, effectively giving up their life. Perhaps it was cruel to continue this mindless charade, to continue to keep Ariel in the dark. But he couldn’t make himself utter the truth, too afraid that it would break her. And there was a chance, if a slim one, that none of their children would ever have to set out on the Journey of Regeneration. Hopefully, he would never need to reveal the ugly secret behind the Church’s pristine facade, and the illusion of the Goddess who would save all.

It was as he said. He would cross that bridge when he came to it.

~~~

The bridge burned to ashes before he ever stepped foot on it, the flames burning his fingers as he desperately tried to cling to the smouldering railing, to crawl his way onto the bridge and try to keep himself afloat. For on the day new life was brought into the world, was also the day a life was lost. The day Colette Brunel was born was the day he lost Ariel’s smile forever.

That night was forever engraved into his heart, another scene of pure horror that would surely consume his mind in the form of nightmares.

The moonlight that fell harshly into the room, coating everything in a layer of silver. The worry on his face. The newborn cradled in his arm, still coated in blood, sobbing uncontrollably. Ariel, gasping for breath on the bed, a film of sweat on her face. Mother, having paused in the doorway, hand still on the doorknob. The midwives who had been frantically running in-and-out of the room just moments ago, frozen in shock.

And in the centre of it all, the angel. Lustrous golden hair falling to its shoulders, glorious wings unfolding from its back with gorgeous feathers rippling down them, hands calmly holding something. Its features held not a single imperfection. Strikingly beautiful, but inhumanly so.

He stood his ground despite the current of dread that rolled down his spine at the angel’s utterly blank face, pleading with it to save his wife. For if angels were the messengers of the Goddess, surely they possessed divine power, far more than that of weak humans. Surely, the angel could save Ariel, where everyone else had failed. She had been nothing but devout, her loyalty to the Goddess and the Church commendable. She didn’t deserve to die. She should get to spend the rest of her life with Colette - helping her learn how to walk, sending her off her first day of school, watching her leave home for the first time.

But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what he said, or how much he screamed, or how desperately. It was no better than yelling at a brick wall; the angel deaf to his words as it drifted towards him in an unstoppable path, wings lazily flapping to propel it forward. He hugged Colette closer to his chest, and couldn’t help but take a step back, then, with the angel towering over him, gazing down at him like he was nothing more than a critter, face still so passive that it made his skin crawl.

Yes, angels had always been described as regal, commanding power and respect. They instilled fear in those who had wronged and turned their back on the Goddess. But they were also meant to carry the blessings of the Goddess and pass on her care for this world, the love she felt for all her children.

But there was no kindness here.

There was nothing he could do to stop the inevitable. The purpose behind the angel’s visit had been clear in his head the moment it arrived, having appeared from nowhere in a burst of golden light, just as the rumours passed in whispers between the youngest of the clerics and the first-hand stories from the pompous priests described it. No matter how much he didn’t want to believe it, he had already known the angel wouldn’t help Ariel. Why would it?

That wasn’t the Goddess’ will. Ariel was but a single insignificant life. And there was nothing more important than the Goddess’ will.

The angel finally showed its first signs of emotion - a smirk. Its eyes were filled with nothing but cruelness as it delivered the message he’d been dreading, gaze drilling into him as it pried open Colette’s clenched fist and placed a blood-red crystal within, its smirk only growing wider with each biting word it spoke, all of which twisted the knife lodged deep into his heart. There was no warmth, not even when the angel caressed Colette’s cheek, no sense of gentleness or care. Only frigidness. It was almost like the angel didn’t see a child, or even a living thing. Yet he was powerless to slap the angel’s cold hand away, terrified of inciting its wrath.

It was over as quickly as it began, the angel disappearing in the same blinding pillar of light that had heralded its appearance. There was no trace of it, not even a single feather, drifting through the air. It was like the angel had never been here.

Yet the angel had left much behind.

He could feel Ariel’s gaze on him, her blue eyes wide and sorrowful. He stumbled over to her, finding her hand clammy.

It was unbearable, hearing the defeat in her voice, still clashing with the glimmer of hope that she struggled to hold onto, all as her voice got weaker and weaker. Even then, even as he watched the life slip out of her as he was helpless to do anything, she continued to smile. A weak smile, but one where the vibrant and kind soul that had touched him shone through, nonetheless.

Even in the haze of pain she must have been in, she did her best to reassure him that things would be alright, that both he and Colette would be fine, for they had each other, and they were both incredibly strong. To tell him that she believed in him. That she loved him.

And her last words before her arm went slack and her eyes slid shut, the darkness claiming her as the final exhale left her lips…

“Take care of her, won’t you?”

The rest of the night passed in a blur, his memory retaining only random flashes. The midwives rushing past him. Mother’s hand on his shoulder and her voice, dripping with pity, in his ear. The absence of Colette’s weight in his arms.

The next moment he clearly remembered was sitting in a wooden chair, slouched forward, Colette once again in his arms. He couldn’t recall how he got here. His throat was hoarse and hurting, his vision blurry from the tears silently streaming down his face. The bed was empty, the covers changed and neatly made, like Ariel had never lain in it, like there hadn’t just been blood staining everything.

Hushed conversations drifted in from the open doorway, unable to be made out in its entirety. He only caught certain words, like “angel” and “Chosen”, awe dripping from them. It must be the midwives whispering amongst each other about having witnessed an angel and the birth of the next Chosen.

No one talked about the loss of a wonderful soul, that fact brushed over in favour of the angel.

No one saw through the facade to the horror within, but those who were burdened with the truth.

Other than that, the room itself was deathly silent, apart from Colette’s sniffles.

He glanced down at his daughter, now clean of blood and wrapped in a soft, blue blanket. Her eyes were closed, a tuft of golden hair the same colour as Ariel’s on her forehead, her pale skin illuminated by the moonlight, her scrawny arms and legs kicking as she cried softly. The Cruxis Crystal was nowhere to be found, for which he was glad. He would gladly purge his memory of it. He never wanted to see it again.

That wish would never be fulfilled.

Humming the lullaby Mother had sang to him when he was but a child, he began to rock Colette back and forth. Her movements and sniffles slowed, until eventually, they came to a stop altogether as the girl fell asleep, her chest rising and falling steadily.

He couldn’t help but smile as he laid a hand on her cheek, the very same one the angel had laid its hand on, mere hours before. He could feel the warm skin against his fingers, thrumming with life. His daughter seemed much more angelic than even the angel itself, a beautiful soul that he would protect with everything he had.

That only intensified the bitter ache in his heart. He had already failed his daughter and his wife. He had lied to Ariel up till her death, and forsaken the final request she had made of him.

Take care of Colette? How was he supposed to do that, when one day, he would have to send his daughter off to die? A mother’s wish would be for their child to grow up, to experience the world and make their own place in it. Not to have their child’s life be cruelly snuffed out before they could live even two decades.

There was nothing he could do.

Not against the Goddess’ will. Not against fate.

Nothing at all.

~~~

2. Phaidra Brunel

“What’s a birthday?”

Phaidra looked up from the document she was signing, focussing on the girl sitting quietly at the dining table. Colette had paused in the middle of writing scriptures from memory, pen set down, questioning eyes fixed on Phaidra.

“The priests said it was my birthday today, and I wanted…” Colette picked up the pen again, head dipping, shadows playing in her eyes. “I’m sorry if I’m not supposed to ask. I’ll just go back -”

“It’s alright, Colette,” Phaidra replied, trying to keep her voice as gentle as possible. “Your birthday is the day you were born. Yesterday you were eight, and today you are nine. You’re one year older now.”

She was well aware today was Colette’s birthday. The absence of her son was glaring - something she had explained to Colette as Frank having to do some errands, on the same day every year. Colette surely knew this day was “special”, simply because the silence on this day was more oppressing than any other.

This house was never full of noise, not in the way that households with young children were supposed to be. There was no laughter from parents playing with a child, no screaming from a petulant child. There were no sounds of life at all. It was a far cry from when her daughter-in-law had still been alive, lighting up this house from within.

The date must have been seared in her son’s mind in the same way it was for her. He was unable to face Colette on this day, who represented everything he had failed to protect. The ghost of both his wife and the girl who shared Colette’s name. The daughter he would inevitably lose, no matter how much he loved her.

“Oh.” Colette returned to carefully dragging the pen across paper, keeping her letters orderly and trying her best to write on the same line, eyes kept strictly down. “I see.”

Despite the smile painted on Colette’s face, there was no lilt to her voice, no spark of happiness. Just a dull acknowledgement of a fact - one that pertained to herself, yet one whose impact she didn’t seem to understand.

Colette lost control, the pen skidding too far and creating an ugly slash of black that cut across the page. Her shoulders drooped as she reached for a new sheet of paper to start the entire endeavour over, yet the smile remained. And it would stay there, forever and ever and ever.

Colette was eternally performing, an actor demanded to be perfect at all times. The world was her stage, not by her own volition, and she was unable to escape the countless masks hung upon the walls.

“It’s alright,” Phaidra repeated, the words weak and without meaning, as she caught hold of Colette’s arm. “You can stop, Colette. Rest for a bit. It’s…”

The words “your birthday” died on the tip of her tongue. They were nothing more than empty platitudes that could not help her granddaughter, and trying to force the words out brought up an overwhelming sense of grief. She had never succeeded in doing so for the past eight years, and neither had Frank.

Phaidra had witnessed these very events countless times already. Chosen after Chosen, deprived of the joy that would be a footnote in any normal child’s life. Choosing to hide their pain in a variety of different ways, from monotone mannerisms to what her grandchild employed - an overflow of false cheer that hid the pain in their hearts, visible to anyone who knew of the truth.

She had grown used to it, or so she thought. Now that it was her very own grandchild chosen to take place in the tragedy, she couldn’t help the pangs in her heart. She could no longer detach herself and hide behind the emotionless statement that “This was the Goddess’ will”, turning a blind eye to the suffering of so many young children who were forced to grow up far too quickly, only to have their lives cut short.

But therein lay the cruelness. For it was the Goddess’s will.

“Thank you for your forgiveness, Grandmother.”

Colette shouldn’t have to thank her for anything. Shouldn’t have to beg for forgiveness for every single tiny misstep. Shouldn’t have to put on a performance in front of everyone else.

The only relief Phaidra could derive was that Colette only held a faint semblance of what she was missing out on - she didn’t know anyone else her age, so how could she know what passed for normal?

But was it better for someone to have to grieve for what had transpired in their short, short life, or to have never lived at all?

~~~

3. Raine Sage

Raine suspected that Colette had never celebrated her birthday.

It was the little things that piqued her attention at first. Raine was already keeping a keen eye on the Chosen, having been informed of… Well, the fate that awaited the young girl. It seemed utterly cruel to impose such a burden on a child as young as Colette, to deprive her of any chance of a normal childhood. But it was the Goddess’ will, and there wasn’t much Raine could do other than look out for Colette as much as she possibly could.

The signs were rather obvious - once you caught on, you couldn’t help but notice them all.

Birthday celebrations were fairly commonplace in the schoolhouse - this classroom was a small room packed with two dozen excitable children. Raine had contemplated what to do about her student’s birthdays, and had settled on discreetly wishing them a happy birthday when they came into class. Some of the children didn’t like being the centre of attention, so that was the logical course of action.

But some of the more boisterous children liked to celebrate their friend’s birthdays right before class or during break. In the loudest possible manner, complete with party poppers and lots of screaming. Quite grating on the ears, but Raine let it slide so long as they didn’t disrupt actual lessons - they were just children being children, expressing well wishes to their friends. And if they cleaned up after themselves, of course. Otherwise, they were going to get an earful from her.

Somehow, Colette witnessed a birthday celebration on her first day of school, and her reaction was highly telling. Two students wishing their friend a happy birthday, together with homemade pastries that filled the classroom with a wonderful smell. She clapped her hands over her ears at the initial wave of noise, then proceeded to stare in astonishment, seemingly unable to comprehend what was going on before her eyes. That astonishment only grew as other classmates came up to give the birthday child well-wishes, her eyes as wide as saucers by the time Lloyd stumbled into class, horrendously late as always and wearing his clothes inside-out. (He gained a deserved chalk to the forehead.) Colette only broke her stare then, refusing to look in the direction of the birthday celebration thereafter.

Raine watched it all from her desk, spinning the pen in her hands as she contemplated. The entire scene might have been comical, had it not tugged at her heart and reminded her of herself.

She was fairly certain that Colette was experiencing envy. Ugly envy that started as a tiny fire in the heart, but which was quickly fanned into a roaring inferno, one that Raine was intimately familiar with. She had experienced much the same before she’d settled down here in Iselia, and she still did, sometimes. But it had been especially strong while stumbling from town to town with Genis in tow, doing her best to survive. Looking at happy families and wondering what it would have been like to experience that herself, to have a loving father and mother that could pamper Genis, a permanent roof over her and Genis’ head, and no need to hunt down their next source of food while fearing for their lives.

Colette seemed much the same at all the other birthday celebrations that went on throughout the year. She would look on for a few minutes, a hungry expression on her face that only intensified with each time, before snapping her gaze away, seemingly unwilling to torture herself any longer by staring at what she had never had.

The inevitable conclusion that Raine came to was that Colette had never celebrated her birthday. It would certainly explain why she was so unfamiliar with all the customs. She never wished any of her classmates a happy birthday. Not that Raine thought it was necessary to do so for everyone, but Colette seemed like the type of kind soul who would. It was much easier to believe that she didn’t because she literally couldn’t - birthdays had never been very significant to her, and she would have no reason to remember them.

What happened on Lloyd’s birthday only further cemented Raine’s conclusion. Colette, Lloyd and Genis had all exchanged birthdays, for her little brother had told her as much. But Colette didn’t seem to remember what day it was - she sat down by Lloyd’s side and started up the usual small talk, a cheery smile on her face as she made zero mention of his birthday. It was honestly rather painful to watch Lloyd try in hiding his crestfallen expression, not wanting to hurt Colette.

Well, Lloyd failed miserably, for Colette noticed something was amiss, her own expression falling as she tried to work out what it was. It was only when Genis passed over his birthday present that the first signs of panic showed up in Colette’s demeanour, the girl shifting in her seat as she realised the situation she’d found herself in.

And rather predictably, Raine found Colette seeking her out during break time.

“Um, Pro - professor Raine,” Colette squeaked, standing in front of Raine’s desk, wringing her hands together and bouncing anxiously on the balls of her feet. “What-”

“-to do if you don’t have a birthday present?” Raine finished for Colette, lowering the book in front of her face. Which she hadn’t been reading, just using it as a cover to ensure no student could easily tell that she was watching with eagle eyes.

“How did...” Colette trailed off, deciding that finding out how Raine knew wasn’t the most important thing at the moment.

“Well, I’d say you don’t have to give a birthday present.” Raine set the book down on the table, resting her arms on it and leaning forward. She wanted to get this into Colette’s head, because she was certain no one had and likely no one would. So many children, and even adults who should know better, got wrapped up in this notion that you had to get the most impressive present possible when that couldn’t be further from the truth. If Colette wasn’t careful, so would she. “What people care about the most isn’t what the present is, or even if there is one. It’s the intent. You could give someone a rotting leaf and it’d still mean the world to them if there’s heart behind it.”

“Heart…?” Colette’s hand instinctively moved to rest on her chest, where her heart beat, steady and alive, as her movements slowed until they stopped completely.

“Yes, heart. As long as you mean well and want the person to be happy, anything, even just wishing them a happy birthday, is enough. So just… go out there, and tell him happy birthday.”

She had let slip that she knew this was about Lloyd, but Colette didn’t seem to notice. She just nodded, a pensive expression on her face.

“I think I get it. Thank you so much, Professor Raine!” Colette said, beginning to prance back to her seat, each spring infused with confidence.

“Anytime, Colette,” she called out after her student’s back.

Later in the evening, in the midst of packing up her teaching materials in preparation to go home, Raine spotted two figures outside the window, and paused to get a closer look.

It was Lloyd and Colette, standing in the dirt of the schoolyard, the setting sun casting them in soft shadows. Lloyd was grinning like a fool, his ears flushed red, perhaps from the attention he was getting, while Colette giggled, her hand laid on Lloyd’s arm.

Silly children.

Raine returned to shoving books into her bag, shaking her head with a smile on her face. All had gone well, and her job here was done. But she would continue to guide her students through the messy time that was childhood, made all the more complicated by the many circumstances that had been thrown in.

For that was what it meant to be a teacher.

~~~

A few months passed before Colette’s twelfth birthday rolled around - the first one ever to be celebrated.

Raine had witnessed firsthand Genis’ extensive preparation for it, and there was no way Lloyd was going to miss it either. She was certain Colette was going to enjoy a wonderful birthday, one that the girl certainly deserved.

She sat at her desk, greeting the students as they slowly filed in, some wide awake and full of energy, the majority yawning and sluggish. Her gaze was fixed on the clock as she waited for the hour hand to hit 8, for that was when Colette showed up every day.

And, just like clockwork, Colette did exactly that, stepping into the classroom with a small yawn.

“Colette,” Raine called out softly, standing and gesturing for the girl to come closer.

Colette paused mid-yawn, eyes owlish as she walked over. “Professor Raine? What is it?” she asked, breaking out into another yawn, completely unsuspecting of Raine’s purpose in calling her over.

It appeared that Colette didn’t remember the special occasion of the day. It was… sad, but not strange at all. If she had never received a birthday present, let alone any well-wishes, what reason would she have to countdown to her birthday as any other child did with glee? She must have never participated in the childhood ritual of marking down the days on the calendar, painstakingly inching closer to the date circled in fat red ink.

“Happy birthday, Colette,” Raine said, wondering how Colette would take it as the girl froze, unable to compute the statement. They were such simple words, easily understandable and recognisable, even by Colette. Two words that left people’s mouths all the time, with hardly any thought behind it. Dropped in casual conversation and in passing, without any time given to its consideration.

Had Colette ever realised they could apply to her? Could she, if she had never heard it directed towards herself before - not without grief hanging behind every word?

A heartbreaking situation for any child to find themselves in, who might not even realise it, who might never realise it. A situation that tugged at Raine’s heart, for she could see the shadow of her younger self - a girl trying her best in a world stacked against her, locking away the anguish that she felt so those who loved her would not worry, unable to reach for anything she wanted. A situation that stoked the flames of anger at the injustice of it all, ignited a desire to do something, anything to change it.

Yet there was no one to blame, no one to hold responsible for an innocent child’s suffering and the snatching away of childhood, no path down which that untameable anger could be channelled. There was only the unbreakable force that was the Goddess’ will, against which everyone must bow down to receive salvation, despite all those who would be left behind.

All of those thoughts faded away when Colette returned to life, catapulting herself directly into Raine, arms thrown around her waist, the force propelling both of them back by a few steps.

And it was Raine’s turn to freeze, her mind going completely blank. Genis wasn’t a hugger, and Colette had certainly never shown this level of physical affection before, even if she was forward with everyone.

It had been so long since Raine had hugged anyone - or anyone had hugged her, for that matter, that she wasn’t quite sure what to do. Only instinct, and a memory that floated to the surface - of feeling safe and warm in a pair of strong arms, a gentle lullaby drifting above her head - prompted her to pat Colette on the back awkwardly, wondering if she was doing this right.

Her goal of keeping this all discrete had certainly been dashed - she could see several of the students looking over with raised eyebrows and curious gazes, though no one was brave enough to speak up.

Ah, she supposed it didn’t matter.

Colette raised her head, exposing the smile on it - the largest, brightest one Raine had ever seen. An impressive feat, because she swore Colette’s smile could grow on command. A sight that was enough to make anyone’s day, for it had certainly just made hers.

“Thank you so much, Professor Raine,” Colette whispered, eyes sparkling. At odds with the quietness of her voice was the way she trembled, like she was barely reining in her excitement. Her boundless energy had returned and chased away the remnants of tiredness that clung to her, all from hearing a single well-wish.

“No need to thank me,” Raine replied, chest awash with the same warmth that she experienced when gazing at her baby brother.

It was the least she could do.

Perhaps there was nothing she could do to save Colette. But from her slightly more distanced position as Colette’s teacher, she could both guide Colette as the Chosen and view her as a child. One who should get to experience as essential of a childhood experience as a birthday celebration.

Sure, it lost its significance as one got older. She had realised, younger than most, that there was nothing special about birthdays. It quickly lost its shine when juxtaposed against her dour life. She could no longer maintain her passion for it, all of her time and energy going towards taking care of Genis. But still, every time Genis gave her a present and wished her a happy birthday, her day became just a little brighter.

Besides, birthdays weren’t just for celebrating oneself. It was also for commemorating all the wonderful memories that had been made in the year that had passed, with loved ones or otherwise. And for someone like Colette - who had limited time - that made birthdays all the more important, didn’t it?

She didn’t want Colette to go through the same thing she had. At least she had had a proper birthday celebration, even if those memories were draped in fog. She didn’t want birthdays to lose their shine for Genis. It was why she’d always done her very best to make every birthday special for Genis, even when she didn’t have the necessary funds to do so. An extra piece of food, a visit to Genis’ favourite place in whatever town they had been taking refuge in… Anything she could do.

It was the same for Colette.

Both of them were children, who could not control the hand they were given. But while Genis had hope of escaping, Colette could not. The title given to her at birth was her prison, the impenetrable bars of which she could only hope to peer through. The canvas that was her life, for the most part, was not hers to paint.

Raine would do her very best for this wonderful child, in the hopes that Colette’s days could be happier. She would ensure that Colette’s tiny canvas would be filled to the brim with as many bright colours as possible, a tiny explosion of life.

For that was what mattered.

~~~

4. Genis Sage

Tick. Tock.

The clock’s ticking was abnormally loud, occupying every corner of the classroom that was devoid of any other sound. It seemed to reverberate in Genis’ mind as he impatiently tapped his foot on the floor, occasionally sneaking a glance at Lloyd, who was busy staring out of the window with his chin resting on his hand.

Tick. Tock.

Genis held back a groan, resisting the urge to slump over onto the table, for that would be far too obvious and risk ruining everything. All he was doing was waiting for Lloyd’s signal - a simple task, yet it was nerve-wracking. When he wasn’t boring a hole into the wooden boards with his gaze, he was instead boring a hole into the clock face.

The minute hands were at their most sluggish. The last time Genis had looked, it was 4.54. He could swear that an entire hour had passed since then, but according to the clock, it was only 4.58!

Tick. Tock.

He must be slowly losing his mind.

Genis lightly kicked Lloyd under the table. In response, Lloyd mouthed “no” and frantically shook his head.

How was it not time yet?!!

Colette was happily oblivious to the tense stares Lloyd and Genis were exchanging, scribbling on her math assignment and bobbing her head to the tunes she was humming, face scrunched up in concentration. If she were to just look up, she would surely notice, and the jig would be up.

Another long hour passed, (which was probably just five minutes,) before the silence was finally broken by a rap on the table by Lloyd.

Finally!

Genis eagerly reached into the packet stashed under his table, pulling his hands back with tiny, irregular pieces of coloured paper grasped in them, overflowing and falling to the floor like a rainbow waterfall. It wasn’t confetti, per se, but it would have to do.

Lloyd was the one who had come up with the idea to compile an entire stack of coloured paper and shred through them with a pair of scissors, undeterred by their inability to get their hands on confetti. Genis had to admit that even if Lloyd wasn’t particularly smart, he could certainly be creative. They’d spent a whole day together just cutting everything up in careful preparation for this very moment, a far more time-consuming task than originally expected.

Raine would demand they clean everything up afterwards, which likely hadn’t come to mind at all for Lloyd, considering his absolute inability to be logical sometimes. And that most definitely would require quite some effort, but Genis had decided against bringing it up. It was hard not to get infected by Lloyd’s enthusiasm, bursting out of every word he spoke, every gesture of his hands, the shine of his eyes, as he described his idea, declaring that he would make this Colette’s best birthday ever.

“Happy twelfth birthday, Colette!” Lloyd cheered at the top of his lungs, cueing Genis to fling the “confetti” into the air.

Colette’s head snapped up, the “confetti” showering around her, catching in her hair until it resembled the colourful banners hung up between the houses for festivals, her golden strands the string holding the pennants. She blinked, beginning to pick the paper out of her hair and gathering them in her palm.

“U - um, did you like the surprise?” Lloyd asked, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his desk, voice betraying his nervousness even as he tried to act composed.

Genis sure hoped Colette had. Not because they’d spent so much time and effort for this day, but because this was her first birthday that the three of them could celebrate together. And he didn’t know the reason for it, but he shared Lloyd’s burning conviction to make this perfect.

“Of course I did!” Colette exclaimed, clapping her hands together and resulting in more “confetti” being thrown around, until it even fell onto Lloyd’s shoes. There would be much to clean up later to avoid incurring Raine’s wrath, but the looming thought of that disappeared under the force of Colette’s bright smile, her happiness seeping into the air itself, making the colours of everything pop vividly. “Thank you so much, Lloyd! And you too, Genis!”

“Heh. I’m glad.” Lloyd blushed, averting his gaze from Colette as he pressed something into her palm, wrapping her fingers over it with his other hand. “Here. I hope you like your present.”

Genis couldn’t help but lean over the top of his seat, trying to catch a glimpse of the object securely held in Colette’s hand. He was curious to know what Lloyd had gotten her, too! Lloyd had been so secretive for the past few weeks, refusing to reveal what he was busy working away at and only dropping cryptic hints that it had something to do with wood, which Lloyd had only just learned how to carve. All Genis knew for certain was that it had to be something amazing - Lloyd would not settle for anything less.

The big reveal came as Colette’s fingers uncurled, revealing a rough statuette. The details were slightly murky: perhaps the sharp corners a little round and the rounded corners a little sharp. But it could still be made out as a dog. A dog with very wackily shaped ears and legs that were not the same length, which Genis suspected was not on purpose.

The statuette’s appearance didn’t matter - anyone could see the love put into it, the hours of blood and sweat. Literally. The band-aids on Lloyd’s knuckles were hard to miss, after all.

As expected, Colette didn’t seem to notice the mistakes at all. She only looked back up, eyes wide and shining with unshed tears, clutching the statuette protectively to her chest.

“I love it, but… You didn’t have to get me anything, Lloyd. I didn’t get anything for your birthday…”

“Don’t worry about it!” Lloyd said, waving away her apology with a grin of his own as he leaned ever closer to her. “I wanted to make it for you, so I did! It’s that simple.”

“Thank you so much.” Colette rubbed at her eyes, fat tears meandering down her cheeks.

Genis couldn’t help but smile too, seeing Colette so overwhelmed with joy. Much like the joy Lloyd must have felt to have his birthday celebrated by friends, and the joy Genis was certain he would experience in the future once it was his turn.

When he’d first met Colette, Genis had thought her strange, but in a way that he could relate to. She didn’t have a normal childhood - she didn’t have any friends, nor did she know most of the pastimes the other children took for granted. Not hide-and-seek, not hopscotch, not catch. He hadn’t been able to do much for so long due to Raine being afraid to let him out of her sight, and for good reason - it wasn’t safe to let a young half-elf child run wild. He couldn’t imagine how strict Colette’s upbringing must be for her to be so similar to him while having spent all of her life in peaceful, sleepy, safe Iselia.

Both her and Lloyd were like lonely ghosts, sitting in opposite corners of the classroom, fading away into the background. Perhaps that was what drew all three of them together - the isolation and the inability to fit in.

And he was glad, for it had given all of them the wonderful chance to experience friendship and everything that came with it.

“I think Lloyd’s present blows mine right out of the water,” Genis muttered, retrieving a box from under the table while keeping his gaze fixed on his feet. He’d only started his gift yesterday, and it had taken him barely two hours to finish. Maybe it was a little inadequate… “But I baked you a slice of fruit cake. I know you love fruits. You can eat it right now or -”

“Thank you so much, Genis!” Colette cut him off before he could even finish, taking the box out of his hands. “I’ll make sure to get you something for your birthday!”

“Ah, you - you don’t have to?” Genis stuttered, dumbfounded. “We just wanted to make our first birthday celebration as friends special. Really, you don’t need to -”

“No, no, I insist!” Colette cut him off again, crackling with somewhat manic energy. “It seems fun!”

“Sure, then…” Genis chuckled nervously, leaning away. It would be nice to get a gift, but he was also slightly terrified of what she would come up with. Especially if she decided to work with Lloyd. The two of them together were unstoppable...

...in coming up with dumb ideas that were great at terrorising him, that is. There was, unfortunately, no good way to talk them out of it. Once they made up their mind, there was no stopping them. They were like a force of nature.

But one that could still make him smile and laugh and treasure each memory, even if he never admitted it to their faces.

The three of them lapsed into small talk for the next half hour, enjoying each other’s company. Genis laughed at Lloyd’s new displays of stupidity, while Lloyd grumbled, Colette giggling at it all. Spirits were running high, and it felt like they were contained in a bubble of giddy ecstasy, and nothing could be better.

Colette was the first to leave, gathering up her stuff and saying she had something to do at the Church. Lloyd got out of his seat not long after Colette walked out the door, stating that Dirk wanted him to run an errand before he went home.

As Genis watched him run out the door, he wondered if that errand existed, or if Lloyd just wanted to talk to Colette more.

That left Genis to trod over to the broomstick in the corner of the classroom, utterly alone in the silence that had now settled. The “confetti” had to be gone from the floor by the time night fell, or all three of them would be in detention.

Typical for Lloyd and Colette to leave him to clean up the mess. Not out of maliciousness, but simply because they forgot so easily. If he asked them to help, they would, without any protests. They’d throw themselves into the job with gusto, leading to a rather noisy situation.

He just didn’t mind cleaning up alone today.

This afternoon had been so much fun, and a little bit of manual labour was well worth it.

Right before he could pick up the broom, however, another hand snuck in front of him and stole it from his reaching grasp.

Genis spun around, shocked to find Raine standing in front of him, broom in hand. When had she even gotten into the classroom? How long had she been looming behind him? He hadn’t heard any footsteps at all!

“I’ll handle it, Genis. You just go on back home,” Raine said, pointing the broomstick, bristle-first, at the doorway.

“Huh?” Genis sputtered. Was she trying to shoo him away? “Shouldn’t I be the one cleaning it up?”

“Go home, Genis. Unless you want to clean it up?” Raine asked with the quirk of an eyebrow, prodding him in the shoulder with the handle of the broom. “I’d be happy to leave this to you.”

“I - alright,” Genis conceded, backing away from his sister and the dangerous broom. He didn't want to be anywhere near it. “Thank you, sis.”

Raine hummed her acknowledgement, engrossing herself in her task. The broom swept from left to right, the bristles brushing against the floor as the “confetti” was slowly pushed towards the wastebasket.

When he walked into class tomorrow, there would be no trace of today’s celebration. It would be like it had never happened.

But he wouldn’t forget it.

And he had a feeling Colette wouldn’t, either.

~~~

5. Colette Brunel

Her 16th birthday was the day the Light of Salvation shined.

The day had started much like any other, practically identical to every other birthday. Waking up, brushing her teeth, slipping her arms into the sleeves of her white robes. Greeting Grandmother, noting the absence of Father, and walking to school along the familiar dirt paths, waving to any classmates that passed.

At the entrance of the schoolhouse, Professor Raine wished her a happy birthday as she always did, prompting a smile on Colette’s face. She had to thank her teacher, every year, for giving her a warm feeling to start the day.

It helped offset the strangeness that still pervaded this day for her. Birthdays were no longer just an empty day where her family looked away with painful expressions, where she sat in oppressing silence all alone, wishing she was anywhere and anyone else. Now, it was also a day where her friends showered her in love. Despite Genis’ insistence that he only wanted to make that first birthday celebration special, Colette couldn’t help but think each and every one was special - both her birthday and her friends’ ones, even though most of the time they were just spending a lazy afternoon together. A picnic by the river where they snacked on sandwiches, a meeting at Lloyd’s house where they all ended up falling asleep while huddled together, a night where they stargazed on the hill, Lloyd spilling a thousand words and more about the constellations.

Colette didn’t care what it was they were doing. Just being in her friends’ company was enough.

But still, she struggled to remember the dates of birthdays, time slipping between her fingers like sand. It just wasn’t a habit for her like it was for everyone else, who seemed to have an entire database of birthdays stored in their heads like it was nothing. Just another way she was different from all the normal children.

Even today, when she was certain it was her birthday, it felt like she was in limbo. Like she was submerged in water, and this day wasn’t real at all, a growing pit of unease in her stomach. Time seemed to be both speeding up and grinding to a halt. It was surreal.

Every birthday, she was glad. Glad that, by some miracle, she had managed to spend another year with all the wonderful people around her, who were all vital fragments of her heart. However, the grief that lay dormant in her heart always reared its ugly head on this day, choking her from within with the knowledge that she was one year closer to her fate.

When Lloyd sat down in his usual seat next to her, greeting her with that trademark grin on his face, she wondered if she would get a birthday present from him this year. She didn’t need one. In fact, she shouldn’t want for them at all. She shouldn’t want for anything - material objects were of no use to a Chosen, and desires were dangerous influences that could warp her pure heart, as the priests put it, repeating the words over and over as they menacingly stared down at her.

She wasn’t meant to have an identity. Or dreams, or friends, or birthday celebrations. She was just supposed to be the Chosen, kind to all and holding no real attachment to anyone but the Goddess, willing to give up her soul at the drop of a dime in what was meant to be an effortless decision.

Yet all of it - her mission, the rules she was meant to be following - were washed away like the river carried away dirt, in the face of her friend's insistence on celebrating her birthday. They had even made a tradition of getting her something. Genis kept gifting her pastries, each one with more creative twists that showed off his culinary prowess. Earlier in the morning, he’d already gifted her a delectable peach tart that… surprisingly resembled Noishe.

Lloyd, meanwhile, carved something new every year. Each gift warmed her heart and gained a coveted spot on her bedside table, forming an orderly row of statuettes lined up like toy soldiers. Looking down the row, Lloyd’s improvement in skills was obvious to see, the details getting more intricate, the features becoming more life-like. Every time she failed to fall asleep, despondently sobbing as despair suffocated her and she felt like she was breaking apart, she would pick up one of the gifts and hug it close. Until the tears came to a stop and she drifted away with Lloyd’s love wrapping her in a warm blanket, enough to make her forget for just one night.

It was selfish, but every present gave her joy, and she had started looking forward to it with a rare sense of elation alive in her chest.

As Lloyd made no mention of her birthday, Colette thought that he must be waiting for an opportune moment. At the very least, she was fairly certain Lloyd would tell her happy birthday. She had grown so used to it that it was rather strange not to hear it from him immediately, and she couldn’t stop the wave of disappointment that surged up within her, even as she ensured none of it reached her face.

And following right after was the guilt, wrapping around her heart and squeezing relentlessly.

Selfish. She was so, incredibly, selfish. She didn’t deserve any of her friends, or any of their kindness, if she was to expect anything from them.

When the light of salvation fell from the heavens upon the Church of Martel in the distance, the entire classroom was washed in a pale white. Everything - the desks and chairs, her clothes, Lloyd’s face - was monotone. It all felt like a dream.

Ah. So it was all a sign…

Heart frozen in her chest, she pulled away from Lloyd’s reaching hand, Genis’ words of amazement going in one ear and out the other, Professor Raine’s pitiful gaze burning a hole into her back.

The cracks in the dream she had desperately tried to keep together had widened to the point of no return, the fragile pieces falling apart in her hands.

It was time to wake up.

The next few hours were a blur of activity. Walking to the Church, the tears she had been convinced would have to be held back, unable to make an appearance at all, everything having gone numb. Surviving the onslaught at the Church, Genis and Lloyd’s reappearance melting her frozen heart and bringing on an even more ferocious avalanche of emotions that she viciously shoved down. On the hunt for the Sorcerer’s Ring, bitter laughter bubbling up in her chest at Lloyd’s shenanigans and how Genis berated him, disguised as her usual sunny giggles.

Feeling the Cruxis Crystal fuse onto her skin, a band of gold around her neck. Ornate like a necklace, but tight like a noose.

Standing on her porch, night having fallen and engulfed everything in shadow, the exact opposite of the morning. Colette looked into Lloyd’s eyes, still sparkling with that cheer of his that had not diminished one bit, so bright and wonderful it hurt. She never wanted it to leave him. She held his hands, and listened to him apologise for not having finished her birthday present. She laughed and said it was fine, and he told her that he’d give it to her the moment he finished it.

“We have so many chances, after all, on this journey that we're about to depart on together!”

She couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even though what he said would never come to pass. The decision she had come to long ago and would resolutely stick to was to leave him behind here, where the spark of life within him that had kept her alive for so long would never be snuffed out.

She resisted the urge to reach up and push away the lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes, to splay her fingers on his cheek, to wrap her arms around his shoulders and bury her face in his chest. To do something, anything, to hold him close, to feel his warmth one last time, to memorise the shape of him. She wanted to melt into nothingness, into the essence of the world, into the stars that would soon be laid out above them. If she was to disappear, could she not at least be allowed to look down upon him after, smiling at the life he would live?

Instead, she placed her hands behind her back, hiding the fists that her fingers curled into. She had hoped to receive one final birthday present, one final memento to pack into her bag. One that she could cradle close to her heart on turbulent nights, aiding her in preserving the memory of this wonderful boy before her.

A selfish, selfish wish of a foolish little girl. Of course the Goddess hadn’t granted it.

Her only respite was that the hearts of her two friends were safe. She would not shatter them with her death, could not shatter them, for they would one day forget her.

Eventually, there would be no Colette Brunel.

The only figure that would remain in their memories would be the Chosen.

She would never receive the present Lloyd wanted to give her. She would never hear her friends merrily wishing her a happy birthday again, or be able to sneak around Genis’ back with Lloyd, planning something to surprise him with. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t ever see her friends again.

Her 16th birthday would be her last.

~~~

6. Lloyd Irving

The campfire crackled, occasionally throwing sparks into the air that were like fireflies - not very long-lived, but spending the little time before fading away drifting joyfully, illuminating the grass with flickering light and throwing two dark shadows onto rough bark.

As for the source of the shadows…

Lloyd felt like his head, which was beginning to droop towards his chest, was stuffed with cotton wool. Everything was starting to blur. The reds and oranges of the flames were bleeding together with the deep greens and browns of the forest to form one muddled colour. The sounds around him were gradually getting more and more muted, and all he could see…

Was black…

Now…

“LLOYD!”

“Ah!” he cried, flinching away from the yell in his ear, coming from the presence next to him that he’d just remembered was there. Losing his balance, he fell onto his side with a thud, eyes snapping open to catch sight of the trees on the opposite side of the campfire, a wild rabbit scampering away into the deep darkness at the sudden noise.

Damn it, he’d been looking at the back of his eyelids again. What was this, the fourth time tonight? He was so bad at staying up. How was it that he hadn’t improved after all the practice that the Journey of Regeneration had offered him? Not that he’d been that great at taking night watch back then.

“Lloyd, are you alright?” The same voice from before reached his ears, soft and soothing now. It entered his mind, cutting through the cotton wool and calming his pounding heart in an instant.

Lloyd flopped onto his back to find Colette hovering not too far above him, lips pursed in worry as she gave him a once-over to check for injuries, blue eyes wide and awake. Her hair fell around the both of them, forming a golden veil that cut them off from the rest of the world.

“I probably shouldn’t have yelled in your ear, huh?” Colette muttered, an apologetic smile on her face. She cocked her head, the tips of her hair tickling his cheek. “Thank goodness there wasn’t a repeat of last week.”

“...t - there isn’t a hill to roll down, s - so yeah!” Lloyd stuttered, averting his gaze. He was a little overwhelmed from the sudden transition from sleep to awareness, his mind still lagging. Things were not being helped by Colette’s proximity, which she likely didn’t even realise. If she were to lean down any closer, she’d practically be lying on top of him. The very thought was making his mind short circuit.

“I’m glad you’re alright!” Colette broke into that wonderful smile, as bright as the sun, chasing away the dark of the night and making any remaining fatigue wash away instantly in its brilliance.

Now he couldn’t help but stare, heart stuffed to bursting with awe that she could be so dazzling, always. Awe over how what he had once thought impossible had come true. He had never expected, and still couldn’t quite believe, that a person as incredible as Colette would ever choose someone like him. Yet when his feelings had inevitably clawed their way out of his heart under a night of glittering stars, her hair catching the shine of them and making her seem even more like an angel, heavenly and far beyond the reach of a mortal like him, she had only smiled and whispered in his ear that she held him in her heart, in the same way that she was his heart.

And here they were, together, as they always had been, and he hoped always would be.

“Um… Can I get up, though?” Lloyd asked. It’s not that he minded staring at Colette. He could do that for an eternity without moving a single inch, but surely it was uncomfortable to maintain her current position.

“O - oh! Right.” Colette scrambled away, helping Lloyd up with an offered hand. “I really am sorry for startling you,” she said, assuming a cross-legged position as she turned to face the flames.

“I’m really fine,” he proclaimed, giving her a thumbs-up as he brushed grass off his legs with the other. “Besides, there’s no need to be sorry. I was the one who asked you to wake me up if I dozed off.”

Silence returned to the night as he scooted closer to her by the campfire, pressing their sides together, their knees touching. Colette grabbed his hand again, shifting to lean her head on his shoulder. The warmth of the flames and Colette’s warmth commingled to soak into him, the scent of spring she always carried with her blanketing him, everything enveloping him in a fuzzy embrace that he never wanted to leave.

These nights where they did nothing but relax in each other’s company after a busy day spent travelling between towns, negotiating with people, trawling through mines to gather exspheres or just plain having fun, were something that he had never given much thought to before. He’d taken it for granted back in Iselia, and the Journey of Regeneration had passed far too quickly for him to do much other than keep going. But now that he had lost her once before, having had to shoulder the pain of seeing her as a lifeless shell of her former self, now that he had experienced what it was like to hold Colette in his arms and go to sleep with the sound of her steady breathing being the last thing he heard, he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Despite his best efforts to stay awake, however, the silence was all-powerful, pressing down on him as his eyelids grew heavy once more. It was hard to resist the lull of sleep, not with his current position of absolute comfort.

He was saved by a nudge in the side, the sharp corner of Colette’s elbow digging into his ribs.

“Sorry, sorry,” he groaned, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. “I really am terrible at this.”

Colette giggled. “You are. Maybe that’s why you’re so bad at waking up on time… I wonder if they’re connected.”

“Maybe...” He yawned.

“Well, you don’t have to stay awake if you can’t, Lloyd.” Colette gave him a pat on the knee. “I know you’re tired from all the walking we did today. If you want to go to sleep, you should.”

“Nah.” He shook his head resolutely. “I told you I’m staying up.”

“But why?” Colette asked, those dazzling blue eyes inquisitive. “I told you that you don’t need to join me for the night watch.”

“Hm, that’s not quite it…” He looked up, eyes finding the infinite stars that danced on the expansive playground that was the night sky. He searched until he found the North Star and the Big Dipper, visualising the clock of the night sky that Kratos had taught him, the numbers and clock hands glowing purple and blue in starlight. He smiled as he realised that the hour hand had barely passed twelve.

The time had come.

“It’s midnight. That’s why,” he said, angling his gaze back down to look at Colette, who cocked her head in utter confusion.

“How can you tell the time from just the stars? That’s really cool! But also, why were you waiting for midnight?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head, cheeks flaming. “Thanks for the compliment. I’ll teach you more about it another time, I promise. But there are more important things. Do you know what day it is?”

“Today…? No, tomorrow…? Ah, it’s tomorrow but also today!” Colette clapped her hands to her cheeks, mind clearly running in circles. “I don’t know what day it is!”

Lloyd sighed, reaching a hand into his pocket. The grooved texture of carved wood met his fingers, reassuring him that everything was still in its rightful place.

He suspected that he was only going to be able to give her what was in his pocket later today, after they had gone to sleep and woken up refreshed. For it only made sense to do so once the storm had passed and she understood the significance of today, and she didn’t even know what day it was.

But of course she didn’t. Why would she?

Before him was the girl he loved more than anything, and that he wanted to protect with every shred of power he possessed. But there were so many things in her past that he hadn’t been able to shield her from, because he hadn’t known of her hidden suffering, because he had been too naive to look past the front until it was too late. There were already so many invisible scars inflicted on her from everything that she had been forced to bear, every secret she had been forced to swallow down, every bit of grief and guilt she still carried with her, even now.

For her, time must have stopped when the Light of Salvation shined, for she believed she wouldn’t live for much longer, an invisible deadline hanging over her head that dictated when her soul would be snatched away. The seconds, the days, the months that had passed since then must have gone uncounted by her, even after her time as a Chosen had come to an end.

Somewhere in her heart remained the belief that one day, she would wake up and realise that she was still the Chosen, that she hadn’t escaped at all. That perhaps escape wasn’t possible from her eternal nightmare, and she was only lying to herself and living a dream that was too good to be true. He’d seen it in her - the moments where she would withdraw into herself, the days where she was hesitant, the nights where she woke up sobbing from nightmares.

Sometimes, her expression was so far away that it terrified him, like she was somewhere else entirely, her body just as empty as it had been in the aftermath of her soul being sealed away. It couldn’t be more different, yet it couldn’t be more similar. It would take a few moments to coax her back out into the open, her hand gripped tightly in his as he gently said her name.

She was free to paint the canvas of her life now, but the feeling of the paintbrush in her hands was foreign, and she was convinced it would just be ripped away. And perhaps the vast whiteness of the canvas that had opened up to her was too frightening in its liberty, when all she had known for so long was a tiny square.

Even though she had told him countless times that none of it was his fault, his heart couldn’t help but break each and every time he saw the effects of her scars, filling his chest with a bitterness that wouldn’t dissipate.

All that he could do was be here for her, and help get her clock ticking again. Help show her that this was real, not a mirage. All of it, every second, was real as can be, because he would never let her return to the hell he had pulled her out of.

He placed his hand on her cheek, staring straight into her eyes. Colette fell silent immediately, as if recognising the gravity in his actions, the solemness of his gaze. Both of their breaths were held as a single second ticked by, as they both waited, as the world waited…

“Happy birthday, Colette.”

Her expression remained completely blank for a few moments, as she struggled to process the words. Until it wasn’t, her eyes widening and lips parting as the realisation barrelled right into her.

“My… Birthday…?”

Her voice was shaky in disbelief, the dam appearing to have broken, the first tears beginning to spill over and roll down her cheeks. She immediately covered her face with her hands, as if trying to hide her tears or will them away.

He pulled her into his arms, just letting her be. She trembled like a leaf in the wind, burying her face in his chest as she sobbed uncontrollably, her cries reaching into his chest and ripping his heart in two, but at the same time mending it together, as he was sure her heart was currently experiencing. The steps she would have to take would always be painful, but they were still steps towards the future.

“I - I’m sorry,” she gasped, muffled by his clothes and interrupted by the occasional hiccup. “I - I should be saying - thank you, but I -”

Lloyd shushed her, rubbing calming circles into her back. “It’s alright,” he whispered into her ear. “You don’t have to thank me, and you don’t have to apologise. Not for anything. You never have to. Just let it all out.”

Colette must have been in absolute turmoil, lost in a whirlwind of emotions. Just like she had been on all of her previous birthdays, which he had celebrated without ever catching a glimpse of her true self. Every year, she had been mourning, hiding her true emotions behind a facade of happiness, though her gratitude had always been genuine. Thanking her friends for remembering her birthday when no one else had, trying her very best to engrave every celebration into her heart in the hopes that she could bring the precious memories with her into death.

She no longer had to hide, because he would accept it all, even the ugliest of emotions. Her tears, her despair, her grief… All of it, for he loved all of her, not just her uplifting happiness. Just as she would gladly accept all of him.

The tears she was crying now... Tears of happiness, for reaching the milestone she had thought impossible, for finally being able to celebrate a birthday that wasn’t another step towards death. Tears of trepidation, for the future that was now ahead of her, unsure of what would be awaiting her.

But with that trepidation came tears of hope, for that same future that she could now live freely, for the joy and sadness she would come to experience. Eventually, the whirlwind would calm, and she would face the world again. For Colette was the strongest person he knew, and he would help her, every step of the way, supporting her whenever she stumbled.

After the reality that she was now free had fully settled, he would give her the tiny statuette he’d carved - an exact replica of the gift he’d given to her for her 13th birthday, which had fallen apart not soon after due to his rather shoddy techniques back then. He’d come a long way since then, and so had she.

And there was so much further to go - so many places to see, so much to experience, so much time to spend together.

So many more birthdays to celebrate, which he would ensure would come to pass for Colette. He wanted to tell her that it was alright to have lived, and to continue to live. That he was glad she had lived, immensely so. That it was alright to celebrate her life and who she was, and lead a life that made her happy, creating beautiful memories all the while.

All of that, contained within two words.

He would steady her hand for each stroke she painted on her canvas, until her hands no longer shook and she could do it on her own, paving the path of her own life.

He pressed a kiss to her hair, smiling as he repeated his blessing.

“Happy 17th birthday, Colette.”

~fin~

[talesofsymphonia4koma]

28/32

[colloydweek]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving & Tales of Symphonia Ensemble Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Tales of Symphonia Ensemble Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Quote: Let’s go explore the new world together. (Tales of Symphonia), Angst and Feels, Trauma, Hopeful Ending, Friendship, Developing Relationship, Colloyd Week 2021 (Tales of Symphonia) Series: Part 6 of Colloyd Week 2021 Summary:

"Let's go explore the new world together."

or, what that actually entails.

Colette and Lloyd wave goodbye to Dirk, and then their journey begins. Of course, they stop by Iselia first, to stock up for the long journey ahead.

They don't know how long the journey will take. It could take months, it could take years, it could take even longer. But with Colette at his side, Lloyd doesn't mind. It's not so much a chore as it is taking the time to explore the world that they saved, and continuing furthering the wellbeing of everyone they saved.

It's a quick goodbye. Colette says goodbye to Frank and Phaidra, but she knows it's weird for them, to realize that she's not the Chosen anymore and that she's not going to die anymore. Things are still awkward. After all, Colette was raised by the village with the knowledge that she would eventually die far younger than anyone else. To be raised with that emotional barrier means that it carries over to adulthood.

She tells everyone she's not the Chosen anymore. But no one seems to remember -- or want to remember -- that Colette is her name.

(Lloyd calls her Colette softly, as he pulls her away from the gates of Iselia.)

[theguineapig3]

Chosen Week 2019 Day 1: “Festival”

“We Knew”

Characters: Zelos Wilder, Frank Brunel Words: 2416 Genre: Hurt/Comfort

At a festival celebrating the reunion of the worlds, Zelos slips away and gets the chance to thank Frank for being such a good father to Colette. But Frank reveals a darker side of his relationship with his daughter- not only did he send Colette to die, but he didn’t even believe it was possible for her to regenerate the world. So why did he do it?

(This is an idea that I’ve been toying with for a while, something I wanted to explore more but haven’t really had the time. I’d like to do more with it than just a oneshot- if only because Frank is such an interesting character to me- but for right now it’s enough just to get it written down.Thanks for reading!)

Zelos was usually the life of the party.

He was a fast talker, and could catch just about anyone’s attention with either his good looks or his witty banter. He had spent much of the evening in conversation with Iselia’s ladies, showing off his charm and worldly knowledge. With the commotion from the world reunion and the revival of the Great Tree having died down, the village of Iselia decided to take a much-needed break from their reconstruction efforts to throw a festival to honor Lloyd, Colette, and the Sage siblings. It was fun- for a little rural village in the formerly declining world, the people of Iselia knew how to party! But the more that people asked about their journey and the process they went through in rejoining the worlds, the less comfortable Zelos felt.

Would Lloyd and the others talk about his betrayal? His workings with Cruxis behind their backs and kidnapping Colette to hand her over? Maybe, maybe not. Lloyd and Colette would focus on the fact that he’d come around in the end, and while the others might not give him as much credit, they probably wouldn’t be too harsh either. The people of Iselia would never know how the harm that he did, the horrible impacts he could’ve had on his friends and the worlds themselves. And something unfamiliar, a sense of something akin to guilt, turned his stomach.

So he left.

He didn’t leave the village, of course, but he found a seat away from the commotion where he could sit and escape the noise for a little while. Zelos passed some time away looking up at the stars, enjoying the chance to see constellations that he normally couldn’t amongst the well-lit streets of Meltokio. He was so lost in it, that he didn’t notice another person approaching… that is, until said person tripped and fell.

“Agh- ow! Oops, heh, didn’t see that branch, there…” The voice was male, middle-aged, and unfamiliar to Zelos. He looked down to see the man standing up, brushing the dirt off the front of his pants. It was dark, but Zelos could see the man’s blond hair and facial features clear enough to notice the familiarities.

“You’re… Colette’s dad, aren’t you?”

Frank looked up and smiled. “Yes! My apologies, I haven’t had the chance to really talk with you yet. You’re the fellow Chosen, right? Zelos?”

Chosen. That was something Zelos couldn’t get away from, even in another world.

“Yeah, that’s me. What’s up? I doubt you came all the way out here just to find a stick to trip over.”

“Yes, well…” Frank allowed himself a small laugh. “...Colette actually asked me to look for you. She noticed that you’d disappeared, and was worried about you.”

Zelos closed his eyes and sighed. “Ah, my darling Colette. Always so considerate. Let her know I’m okay, I’m just taking a break from all the noise.”

“I will!” Frank chirped, his pleasant expression mirroring the one his daughter always wore. Zelos felt a pang of affection, the likes of which he might’ve once felt for his mother long ago. Realizing this might be his only opportunity without seeming awkward in front of the others, he spoke up again.

“Hey, uh, Mister Brunel… I don’t want to keep Colette worrying, but can I talk to you for a minute?”

Frank had already started back toward the center of the village, but he turned and moved back to sit down beside Zelos. “Sure thing. And you can just call me Frank, by the way.”

Zelos couldn’t help a grin. “Frank, huh? You sure are a nice guy, even to people you barely know. That’s- well, I guess that’s exactly the thing I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to say thanks.”

“Thanks?” Frank repeated. “For what?”

“For raising Colette the way you did.” Zelos shifted and turned so that he was looking directly at Frank. “I’m sure it was hard, being the father of the Chosen. Having the eyes of the whole world on you, managing the expectations of everything you know and love… it’s rough. My own parents couldn’t take it. My father ignored me and my mother resented me. Being told that Colette was the child of angels, knowing she had to die, you could’ve easily shunned her or treated her cruelly to keep from forming a bond that you knew would be broken someday. You loved her and raised her right. Hell, if it hadn’t been for Colette being such a wonderful person, I might not even be here today. She’s a good kid, and part of that is because she grew up knowing she was loved. So, uh, thanks for that. I’ve known some shitty dads in my time, so knowing that there are good ones out there… it’s a good feeling.”

Frank was silent, taking in what Zelos had said. He was staring at Zelos initially, but he covered his mouth and turned away. Zelos frowned, leaning forward.

“Something wrong?”

“I…” Frank began, his voice cracking a little, “...I appreciate you saying so. I do love Colette, and I’m glad that my love has reached her. But I’m no glowing example of a father. No good father would ever send his child to die.”

Zelos felt his stomach churn. There was genuine guilt in this man’s voice. It wasn’t whatever fleeting compulsion that passed for guilt in Zelos’ shameless mind- it was real, festering guilt that had been growing for a long time now. So… what could he say?

“You didn’t have a choice. As far as you knew, you were doing what was best for the world. After all, she was supposed to save your world from dying, right?”

Frank shook his head.

“No. That’s what was so bad. It would’ve been awful enough for me to have sacrificed my own daughter, even for the sake of the world. But I knew from the time she was little that she wasn’t going to save the world. At least, not in the way that the Church of Martel said she would.”

For once, Zelos was actually lost for words. He struggled to form a response. “But… you… how?”

There was silence for a long moment. The joyful sounds of partying in the village center sounded like a faraway dream, cold and distant from the conversation the two men were having. Frank finally let out a long sigh, exhaling a breath he’d been holding for too long. He looked back at Zelos with a melancholy smile.

“You know, I’ve never told anyone this before. Up until now, it wasn’t safe to do so. But my mother-in-law and I… we believed that… that Colette wasn’t a real Chosen.”

Zelos stiffened. “What do you mean, not a real Chosen?”

“My wife, Lucille, was the niece of the previous Chosen, so we knew it was possible that she would bear the next. But when she was pregnant with Colette, she told me- she insisted to me- that the child wouldn’t be the Chosen. She was sure the child was mine.”

Zelos raised an eyebrow. “So sure, huh? I guess you’re more of a ladies’ man than I first thought.”

Frank looked away with a nervous laugh. “Oh no, not me! I was a nervous, clumsy boy who was always better at talking to dogs than I was at talking to people. Lucille seemed happy when the Church chose me to marry her, so she must have seen something in me, but...”

“At the very least, she was right about Colette.”

The statement reminded Frank that he was telling a story, and his voice steadied again. “Shortly after Colette was born, the priests took her to be blessed at the Temple of Martel and I finally got to speak with Lucille again. She confided to me that Colette had not actually been born holding the Cruxis Crystal, as it was said all Chosens were. Lucille claimed that the priests had planted it on Colette and then lied to us about it. I tried to reassure her that they’d never do something like that, that she was just seeing things from the stress or the pain, but… I didn’t have a chance to convince her. That was the last time I ever spoke to her. She died that same day, supposedly of complications from childbirth. But she had looked so healthy…”

Zelos felt his fingers clench together into a fist. “You're saying you think they murdered her for knowing the truth about what Cruxis was doing with the Chosens?”

“I don't know,” Frank replied, shaking his head, “and may never know. I went first to my mother-in-law, telling her what Lucille had told me. She then recounted a story I had never heard- one of her own mother claiming on Aithra’s sixteenth birthday that she couldn't go on the journey of regeneration because she was a ‘false Chosen.’ Aithra and Phaidra’s mother claimed that when she gave birth to Aithra, she saw the priests plant a Cruxis Crystal in the baby’s hand. The priests said that she was simply hysterical and trying to make a scene to keep her child from going on the journey. They took her to the temple in order to ‘help’ her, but not even a week later, she mysteriously died. Grief, they said, and Phaidra had believed it up until that point.”

“But when Colette’s mom said the same thing…”

“Yes. We realized that the Church of Martel must have been trying to cover it up, and that our lives would be in danger if we tried to come forward.” Frank leaned over, resting his head in his hands. “We knew the world was dying and needed a Chosen. But if Colette and Aithra had not been born the way Chosens were meant to be, not really the children of angels, then they couldn't regenerate the world. The only explanation we could come up with was that the Church of Martel was designating fake ‘chosens’ in order to give the world hope while they waited for a true Chosen to be born. Aithra and Colette, we assumed, were just part of their plan to keep order and prevent mass hysteria over the worry that a Chosen would not appear in time. To us in our limited knowledge, that made the most sense.”

“Of course it did.” Zelos nodded his head in reply. “You had no way of knowing that the whole Chosen-lineage thing was just part of Cruxis’ genetic experiments, or that Cruxis Crystals come from Derris-Kharlan rather than being born with individuals. With the Chosens dying at age sixteen, the title couldn't pass on from parent to child like in Tethe'alla. So you relied on the Church to tell you who was who. And if you thought they were lying… well, you had to protect yourself. But did you really keep it a secret from Colette too?”

“Yes.”

“Why? If you thought she would fail- if you knew she really was your daughter- why didn't you tell her?”

The question brought Frank back up to a sitting position, looking back at Zelos with seriousness in his eyes. “All Colette ever wanted was to help people. More than anything, I wanted her to believe she could. How could I send my little girl to die for nothing? At least if she thought she was saving the world, she could be happy until the end. It was cruel of me to keep it from her, but-”

“No. It wasn't.”

Zelos had been making a point not to interrupt, but this time he felt it was important. His words brought a slight change to Frank’s expression, eyebrows raising and frown softening.

“You think lying my daughter was the right thing to do?”

“Eh, when you phrase it like that, it does sound kinda bad.” Zelos shrugged his shoulders. “But I don't see it that way. You loved your daughter. You wanted her to be happy. As far as you knew, she was going to die- whether by a failed attempt at regenerating the world or by the hand of the Church for defying them. So you did what you could to make sure she felt like her death would mean something. You could've taken that purpose away from her, but you didn't. You let her have it because you loved her and wanted her to be happy.” He closed his eyes and heaved a long, drawn out sigh. “My mother didn't lie to me. With her dying words, she told me the cold, hard truth. I wonder what would've happened if she had lied? If instead of saying ‘you never should have been born,’ she’d have said ‘I love you, Zelos.’ Would things have been different? Would I have been different?”

He kept his eyes closed for a few moments until he felt a comforting hand pat him on the back.

“I’m sorry.”

Zelos opened his eyes to look over at Frank’s soft smile. He responded with a smile of his own, though it was less genuine.

“Is that another lie to make a poor Chosen feel better about themselves?”

“No.” Frank’s response was quick and direct. “No, it isn't. I am sorry for you. I'm sorry for everyone caught in this system. I'm sorry that the Chosens have to choose between having honest parents that resent them or loving parents that lie to them. It isn't right and it isn't fair.”

There was another pause, and then Zelos pulled himself to his feet. He turned around and reached out to Frank, helping the man up as well so that the two of them were standing side by side.

“I don’t know what's right or what's wrong. But I know one thing for sure- if I were given the choice, I'd choose the lying parent any day.”

Frank smiled. “Is that so?”

“Lies? They’re a dime a dozen. You get them everywhere, from everyone. Parents lie to kids all the time. But love? That's special. It’s rare, at least where I come from. So don't beat yourself up over things you've done out of love. You have your daughter back now- back for good. You have all the time in the world to come clean and reconcile. So do it. This festival is all about reunions, after all. Don't squander this opportunity.”

Frank was still holding onto Zelos’ hand, and he squeezed it in appreciation.

“Thank you, Zelos. I… I will. I’ll tell her everything.”

[biogels]

Aithra Brunel

Age :: 16

Hometown :: Iselia

Family :: unnamed mother, unnamed father, unnamed grandmother, Phaidra Brunel

Occupation :: Chosen of Regeneration 

Personality

Aithra is a calm and docile girl, she tends not to talk much and often keeps to herself. The only time she is genuinely happy is when she is reading with Iah or listening to Jim’s stories.

History

Born and raised in Iselia, Aithra spent most of her days learning the way to be a proper Chosen, there was no point in teaching her anything else. Growing up she longed for a friend who saw her as something more than the Chosen who’d save the world.

When she was ten years of age, she received news that her mother had given birth to another child, a girl named Phaidra. Although the two would never meet, Aithra sent her letters and presents quite frequently.

Upon her sixteenth birthday, Aithra received the oracle from Remiel, thus beginning her Journey of Regeneration. 

In the Triet desert, Aithra saved a young half elven boy named Iah. Although her plan was to take him somewhere safe, he ended up becoming a priest in training to stay by her side. Something that was greatly opposed by Kratos, a mercenary hired to protect her.

Things proceeded smoothly from there, until she reached the Balacruf Mausoleum, it was there that Aithra failed to properly bond with her Cruxis Crystal, causing her to become mentally unstable. To prevent her from harming anyone, her priest had her tied up for the remainder of her journey. 

[lialox]

Kratos & Phaidra Phaidra keeps the letters left behind by her sister, the previous Chosen. The name "Kratos Aurion" appears in them, more than once.

[darkhymns-fic]

More Than Puppy Love

Well-known dog therapy organization, Altamira Pet Paradise, is getting a new volunteer! Colette is already drawn to the gigantic dog with the soft whines, his fur so soft that it was like magic.

She won't admit, just yet, she's also drawn to his owner with the kind smile.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel, Noishe, Sheena Fujibayashi, Regal Bryant, Zelos Wilder, Seles Wilder, Presea Combatir, Genis Sage, Raine Sage, Phaidra Brunel Rating: PG Word Count: 9991 (I know) Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: Written for Colloyd Week 2022, Day 3: Touch. The idea for this AU is all because of @youlighttheskyart who first put this idea in my head! This whole story very much ran away from me so I apologize for the length, but if you're looking for a detailed modern AU fic with most of the Symphonia cast, and just good dogs, then I hope you enjoy!

--

The new dog’s name was Noishe.

“Oh, is it a rescue, too?” Colette asked with a turn of her head. She was busy feeding a small beagle named Pippy from a bowl full of dry kibble, her little furry friend already more than halfway done. She scratched him behind the ears as reward for his very healthy eating. “We have been stretched a little thin lately…”

Her boss, who had shared with her the news, was also doing his share of their duties. He held several bowls of food in his arms, balancing them perfectly before he set them down to an eager, tail-wagging audience. Luckily, all were well-trained to not jump on him, or get greedy for another dog’s bowl for seconds. (Well, usually).

“From what it sounded like, it might be a rescue… but maybe the same can be said of the owner.” Most people wouldn’t look at Regal and figured him to be a dog-person. But even with his muscles always threatening to rip apart his t-shirt, he was more at home with the other dogs than at the gym. Colette noted it in the way he moved; how he’d always be gentle when picking up a small furry friend in his great hands to get it over a step or two, or how he’d carefully take a paw to clip their nails that had grown too long.

It took her a moment to ascertain his words just then, for Pippy was already begging for seconds and she was trying to calm him down. “The owner? What do you mean?”

“Ah, never mind. Just something I noted from his application, but I could very well be wrong.” Regal then proceeded to carry a calm golden retriever, her snout practically lifted in a smile as he did so. Fur got all over his shirt and jeans, as well as some in his usually somewhat messy hair, but he didn’t mind. “I need to give Sprinkles a bath now. Can you look after things in the meantime?”

“Of course!” She nodded, and just at that statement, a dozen or so dogs gathered at her feet, some already eager to be pet while others laid on the carpeted floors to be comfortable. She giggled at the sight, as well as at the feel of multitude of wet noses pressed against her leggings. “I have everyone here to help me.”

Regal gave her a proud smile. As he turned to leave, he then stopped and whipped around quickly. Tied blue hair, along with golden fur, swayed together from the motion, almost hypnotic in Colette’s eyes. “I almost forgot to mention, but Noishe and his owner will be joining us today, not next week. Can you be sure to greet them?”

Colette stilled in confusion. “Oh, uh, but then what’s the owner’s-?”

Sprinkles whined just then, a soft little keen that made the heart go soft, urging Regal to go back to his task. “Thank you, Colette,” he made sure to say before he left through a door in the facility, leaving Colette standing among the dogs in confusion. Small snuffles and a bit of tapping many paw pads echoed around the room.

She just wanted to know the name of Noishe’s owner…

-

At the Altamira Pet Paradise Therapy Center, dogs weren’t the only animals available for one to see on their visit, even though they were the most common.

Colette always had an affinity for dogs, but she showed just as much care to the few cats they had as part of their volunteer staff, as well as a colorful parrot, and even a few guinea pigs with chubby cheeks that could heal any soul. The majority of such animals were brought in by their owners to help with their volunteer work, depending on the time of day, or just which clients would be visiting the center; from eager schoolchildren to residents from the nearby senior home. She remembered how once someone had even brought in a horse – the sweetest horse that she had ever met, who liked their mane braided!

But today, it was just the dogs – and mainly Regal’s dogs at that. They numbered to a dozen, of varying sizes and breeds, like the giant golden retriever, Sprinkles, and the little terrier pup, Pippy (that Colette had named herself). It was a slow day thankfully, with only a few people needing the services of a friendly dog with even softer fur, and no outside visits scheduled. Their facility was a simple place too, with only a few divided rooms decorated with feel-good posters and such (“Have a fur-filled day!” said one with the photo of a happy puppy – both Regal and Colette knew they had to get it). Most of the dogs were separated from one another so as not to overwhelm people, or over excite the other dogs.

“Sheena!” Colette called out. She saw the familiar face who sat in a plush chair near the back door that led out to the garden, petting a certain orange-furred dog with both hands. “Everything going okay?”

“Oh, Colette,” Sheena gave a small wave, mixed in with a yawn. She must have had another late shift at her job, but even the tired bags around her eyes seemed to dim slightly when Corrine, the dog for her session today, pressed more strongly against her hands. “I’m fine. Heard you might be getting a new volunteer today?”

“Yep. But he hasn’t come by yet… I’m hoping he hasn’t got lost on the way here.”

“Ohh, so you know it’s a guy,” Sheena said with a grin – then paused. “Uh, wait, or did you mean the dog?”

Colette tapped a finger against her cheek. “Well, the dog’s name is Noishe… What do you think?”

“…I…honestly have no clue. What about the owner’s name?”

“Oh, that! Hehe.” She gently turned away another dog, Sebastian, from getting too close to Corrine, guiding him to a nearby nook where some dog toys were placed. “I don’t know at all.”

Sheena sighed – but whether from the answer, or from the feel of Corrine’s fur over her fingers, it was hard to say. “Well, good luck, Colette.”

“Thanks!” Sheena always told her that a lot. It was quite kind of her.

But even when Colette worried for the new volunteer – maybe they had missed the exit? Or did they change their mind at the last minute? Which would be quite sad, as Colette looked forward to another doggy helper – that same worry melted when she heard a large whuff! from the facility’s front door.

She was quick to jog over to it, but not too much! She didn’t want to make the other dogs think she was playing with them, so she mainly power-walked to the door that was already half-opening. “Hello! You must be-”

And what came through the door was the dog, which was, well….gigantic? Big pointed ears, with grayish fur that had a certain shade of green to it in a certain angle of the ceiling lights. With a whine, the dog moved forward, tongue lolling from its mouth.

Also, the dog’s height was just past her waist. If it had stood on its hind legs, it might have been even taller than her. She tried to guess the breed, but he seemed to be mixed. Maybe between a German Shepherd and a poodle? But that didn't explain the big ears…

“Noishe?” she said hesitantly, and was answered with a little whine. Not a sad whine though. Somehow, she could tell.

“Oh my god,” said a voice far behind her. Sheena must not have expected it either. “Is that a dog or a horse?!”

“Noishe! Don’t run so fast! And don’t open doors on your own!”

Colette raised her head at the voice. It was a little loud, but not enough to worry any of the animals nearby. Noishe’s ears perked up, and then a boy dressed in a red sweatshirt and cargo pants (not red) burst through. His brown hair was all tousled, and when he laid eyes on Colette, he waved, all with a wide grin on his face.

“Hey! My name’s Lloyd! Um, Regal said to come here…” He blinked, looking around the room and all of the doggy posters and a paw-pad clock on the wall. “I’m in the right place, ain’t I?”

Something about his confusion, even in a place stamped with doggy accessories everywhere (along with actual dogs) tickled Colette a bit. She giggled into her hand, Noishe’s ears perking up again, but at her voice this time.

“S-sorry!” She cleared her throat. “I mean, it’s nice to meet you, Lloyd. I’m Colette. Welcome to Pet Paradise!”

“Oh, good! So I definitely didn’t take that wrong turn earlier.” Lloyd nodded, seemingly proud of his statement.

“That dog’s so huge…” Sheena was whispering from far behind, but Colette only heard it faintly, distracted by Lloyd’s smiles, and Noishe’s big ears.

It had been a while since someone new had come along.

-

“Noishe can cheer anyone up! He even once got my dad out of a funk when he had trouble with his woodworking last year.” Lloyd guided his dog with one hand on his back as they walked around the small facility with Colette, looking through the different rooms that mainly held a few sleeping dogs, curled up next to each other. He seemed eager to get started on volunteering, answering Colette’s questions with vigor. “And, and! He can do tricks! Noishe, shake.”

Lloyd held out his hand, while Noishe looked up and down with a curious whine. Eventually, he shook Lloyd’s hand – but only after standing on his legs, and holding out a paw to place into Lloyd’s palm. He was also now a head taller than his owner.

“Oh, wow!” Colette said in awe.

But Lloyd looked less than impressed. “Noishe, you’re not supposed to stand…”

Colette knew she was needed to assess the new volunteer and his animal, but she kept finding herself drawn to Lloyd’s eyes, with the same hue as his hair. She shook her head, wondering if she had enough coffee this morning. “And is that why you wanted to lend your dog’s services as a therapy pet? Is he okay with meeting new people?”

“Yeah, he is!” Lloyd gently urged Noishe back on all four legs again, scratching behind his right ear. “Though… I guess I should say that he wasn’t always like that. Noishe used to be scared of literally everyone and everything. It took a while, but now he doesn’t run off or hide under the tables anymore.”

Colette looked at the giant dog with its bright black eyes, tail wagging back and forth at high speeds. She remembered just how easily Noishe had gone through the door, rushing up to her as if he had known her all his life. “I see… Is he a rescue?”

Lloyd hesitated in answering. She could see how he went over a dozen explanations inwwardly, making her wonder why he found the question difficult to answer. Regal didn’t really seem to know either…

“I guess he is, in a way,” Lloyd finally answered. “He’s had it tough for a long time. But he really does like meeting people now. And I think he used to years back before he got spooked.”

They walked through the back doors to an outdoor garden, though with all flowers safely out of reach of any excitable dog. There was a large, open area in the middle, the grass having been freshly cut, and the few remains of squeak toys that had been left outside.

Lloyd noted the details, all while the sun made his hair turn bronze in the light. “You know, I’ve never seen a pet therapy place like this…”

Colette smiled gently. “Mr. Regal has always done things a bit differently. He set up this facility so other people can come see the animals, though we still visit hospitals and schools. All of the dogs are his, too. And he still finds time in his day to play with everyone!”

Lloyd whipped his head to her. “Wait, all these dogs are his? Is this guy rich?”

“Hm, well, he used to be a CEO, I think? I don’t remember for what company… but he stepped down and gave away half of his money to charity and used the rest to build this place after taking in some rescues. And he’s trained all of them to help others now, too!”

She could tell the boy was impressed because she had felt the same! Lloyd looked around the area once again, marveling at the wide space that Regal had created for a gentle connection between human and dog (or cat, bird and guinea pig - maybe a horse or two). “Man, it kinda makes me wonder why he’d want me and Noishe around if he’s got it covered already.”

“But we can always use more help, Lloyd. And I’m sure Mr. Regal saw something in you.” After all, Lloyd had such a kind and warm smile, something she had noticed despite only knowing him for less than an hour.

“Hehe… I think you mean Noishe, right?” Even so, Lloyd stood a bit taller as he spoke, patting his dog on the back. “Though, I guess I forgot some people might be scared of his size, like that girl earlier…”

Oh, that was true. Sheena had been eyeing the giant Noishe since, staying in her corner with Corrine. “She’ll come around! And a lot of kids like big dogs anyway. They’re usually our most popular.”

“Cool! See, Noishe? You’re gonna be popular!”

A happy bark, with a force that made Colette jump just a bit, though not with any worry. “Hehe. Well, we got our beginning questions out of the way… Um, do you think you could show me how Noishe would help someone then? Just keep in mind that he’ll most likely be visiting new environments when he does so.”

She half-expected another trick, or something as simple as petting Noishe. Nothing could quite calm someone down than the feel of a doggy’s fur against one’s skin. In fact, when she saw Lloyd petting Noishe, it seemed that his hand would nearly disappear into that forest of strange green.

Lloyd seemed to catch her gaze, then whistled for Noishe to follow him along, closer to Colette. “Wanna pet him?” he offered, with so much familiar ease, as if they had always known each other. “I think that’s Noishe’s main talent, if you wanna test it out.”

Colette had to do all she could to hide her excitement – she had to maintain being a professional, after all. “I’d be glad to,” she said, then reached out a hand to pat Noishe on his furry head, like she did with all the dogs at the facility.

And it was at that moment, when her fingers made contact with Noishe’s fur, when her palm pressed against a warm scalp, she stilled. It was soft – so soft. Incredibly soft! Noishe angled his head to let her pet more, and she followed that angle, reaching out another hand to scratch right around his neck.

Colette let out a gasp. “He’s…like a really furry blanket!” More pets, and Noishe made a soft whine, but one that asked for more pets, and rang harmoniously in the air instead of in distress. “Wow, just…wow!”

All while she petted, Lloyd crossed his arms, nodding sagely.

“I make sure to always brush out his fur every day,” he stated. “Three times a day! It’s actually pretty relaxing to do. I figure people could do that while they pet him, and I always carry a brush.” He took out said brush, the handle as red as his sweatshirt. “But smaller kids could do this and ride him if they wanted.”

She was only half-listening now. By this point, Colette had already buried her face into Noishe’s fur, so entranced by the very texture of it. “So soft…”

Ah, but she wasn’t being professional! Colette cleared her throat as she pulled her hands away. But her eyes were closed from the bliss of the furry touch, and just the memory of it and… “But, maybe just one more time!”

Unfortunately, her eyes were still closed, and Lloyd must have gotten nearer to check on Noishe, probably to demonstrate the fur-brushing. But she hadn’t really been able to tell the difference at first, because the feel of the softness against her hands was nearly the same! Noishe’s fur was so warm…

“Um, C-Colette…?” She could feel the stammer in Lloyd’s throat.

“Huh?” She opened her eyes, seeing that her hands were not on Noishe’s head like she thought, but on Lloyd’s. Her fingers threaded through his hair, his head lowered, the hairbrush in his right hand.

It took her a few seconds longer to see what she was doing.

“Ah, I’m sorry!” Colette stepped back, mortified at herself that she had just…been petting Lloyd! “I-I didn’t know!”

Lloyd stood up, his face a beet-red, while his dog smiled at the situation. “Uh, d-don’t worry about it! Heh, so, um, does that mean we can volunteer with you? Since you liked Noishe so much!”

Yes, Noishe and…well…

“O-of course!” she said, laughing nervously. She patted down her shirt, remembering the touch on her fingertips.

She wished she didn’t have to be so embarrassing.

--

For the volunteers at Altamira’s Pet Paradise Therapy, the places they would visit, along with the people they met, varied with each day.

Colette wanted to make it easy for both Lloyd and Noishe on their first few days, and had them stay around the center at first. Plus, it was good to have Noishe get to know the other volunteer animals as well! On one day, Nibbles the cat had been around, and even as she was busy cleaning herself, or climbing up on shelves, she didn’t reject a small snout press from Noishe. Colette could have sworn she heard the kitty purr from the affection.

But soon, she saw on their schedule a client they had to visit - one that needed to stay at home instead of a hospital, their condition quite fragile.

“You’re sticking with me then?” Lloyd asked Colette once he was given the address, walking towards a mud-splattered pickup truck where Noishe immediately jumped into the backseat of. “I didn’t want to admit it, but I think I’d be nervous going to this myself.”

“Just think of it as part of training!” Colette reassured quickly. “Also, this particular client sounds like it needs someone like Noishe for them, so it should be good practice, too.”

Lloyd’s eyes lit up at the information before he got into the driver’s seat. “Oh, is it a kid then? Noishe is really great with kids!”

“Actually-” she started, but after fastening her seat-belt, the road got a little bumpy, and Noishe got a little needy, sticking his head from the backseat and getting all the pets he wanted, with Colette giving all the pets she wanted in return.

…And his fur still felt a bit like Lloyd’s hair, which she thought back to with nervousness. But Lloyd hadn’t brought it up since…

She had to admit, once they arrived, that the house was probably much bigger than what most people would expect. Lloyd's stare at the high walls and fanciful iron gates they had to walk through told her that much.

“Oh, the pet people?” spoke a blasé voice once they arrived at the door. A man with long red hair, wearing a slightly opened button-down shirt, and a curious glint in his eyes. Those same eyes quickly landed on Colette, followed by a grin. "Well, nice to see you again, angel. Got us another good doggy today? Maybe I can get my own personal session from you?~"

"Hi, Zelos!" she spoke, completely unfazed by his advances. 

He seemed to size them up before finally noticing Noishe in the center, seated politely, tail brushing against the floor.

“What the-? Is that thing a dog?!”

Lloyd frowned. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“This is Noishe!” Colette quickly intervened. "He's new to our therapy center. I think Seles will really love him."

Zelos kept staring, his carefree persona already fading away by the second. "Sure you didn't have any…normal-sized dogs around?"

"Hey! My dog is very normal!" Lloyd called out, already getting aggravated on his very first trip out.

"Oh. So he's your dog. Can't say I'm surprised then." Zelos gave a long sigh, pushing away a few red locks from his face, only for them to fall back against his cheek. "God damn, the fur's gonna get all over the place…Whatever. Seles is in the living room, so let's get this moving."

"...Did this guy even want us here?" Lloyd asked, only slightly under his breath. The home challenged the definition of big, with a needlessly long hallway, the floor tiles looking to be made of marble. "He's acting like such a jerk."

"Ah, Lloyd, it's okay," Colette tried to appease. "He's been using our services for a long time. He and Regal also know each other, and this has been helping his sister with her condition. He’s her caretaker, and just worries over her a lot."

"Huh?" He then leaned down to her, trying his very best to whisper. “If he’s doing all that, then why does he have such a weird attitude?"

"Well…"

"You do know I can hear you as clear as day," said Zelos without turning around. "Like, you're not even trying, bud."

Lloyd flushed, clamping his mouth shut. The expression was cute to Colette's eyes, but she carefully swallowed down her giggles.

The house had taken her by surprise the first time as well; everything looked too fancy to even touch, and she always wondered at a certain great painting that hung by itself in another room they passed by. But Lloyd, even in his own confusion, guided Noishe gently across the hallway, all until they made it to the living room where two sets of couches were set by an open window, and a grand piano stood forgotten in a corner, covered in dust.

A young woman was seated on one of the couches, wearing fine clothes and an overly large sun hat, a rose pinned to its brim. She held an open book in hand, though she wasn’t exactly preoccupied with reading. She was gazing through the window, her hair matching the same shade as Zelos' own. 

“Yo, Seles. Pet guys are here.”

She turned then, a slight wrinkle in her forehead when she glanced at Zelos before turning to Lloyd and Colette. “Please excuse my brother. He didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”

“Aw, so that’s how you say thanks to me for setting these up?” Zelos shrugged, but he went to lean against the piano, his pose so casual he might have started dozing off any second.

It didn’t take long for Seles to single out Noishe immediately.

"Oh. So…that's a new dog then?"

Colette nodded. “Yep. We have a new volunteer.” She tapped Lloyd’s shoulder, who was still reeling from the giant floorplan that was this home. “Go ahead.”

Maybe she was getting ahead of herself to already put Lloyd in this kind of place. But even with his hesitance, he had his smile on, already doing his best to make a good impression.

Walking across the plush carpet, Lloyd brought Noishe who followed at his side. He gave a short whistle, his dog immediately sitting down, ears raised up high. 

"This is Noishe. He's a big guy, but he's also a big ol' softie." He patted Noishe's back before speaking to the seated girl before him. "Wanna try petting him?"

Seles raised an eyebrow. Even with Noishe seated on his haunches, he towered over her by at least a few inches. "If I can even reach up to his head, but I'll try."

“That’s no problem! Here, Noishe.” A soft snap of his fingers, his hand lowered just at the same height of Seles’ face, and his dog followed through. A furry head now within the woman’s reach.

 From his lounge against the piano, Zelos gave a small snicker. “That dog could be your new coffee table, sis.”

Seles sighed sharply at his comment, but it didn’t stop her from reaching out her hands to the dog. Her skin was pale, and her fingers just a bit shaky, yet Colette noted how she had looked a bit better since the last time she had seen her.

It only took a few strokes against the forest of fur for Seles’ disinterested expression to change. “He’s like silk,” she commented, moving her right hand to travel down Noishe’s back. The dog whined in a low voice, with a light rumble in his throat. “Is…is he purring?”

Lloyd chuckled. “Noishe’s weird like that. But it’s a nice sound, don’t you think?”

“Huh…” Seles continued to pet him, all the hard lines around her mouth beginning to fade. Even her shoulders seemed less tense. “It is. He’s a very odd dog. And he has so much fur…”

“The secret is brushing him a lot.” Lloyd knelt on the floor, giving Noishe another pet along his ear. “Noishe likes it, too. So, maybe, um…”

A small slip from his confidence, but when he glanced toward Colette, she motioned to his pockets, knowing what he was offering.

Out came the hairbrush, clean of any stray furs. He held out the handle towards Seles. “The best way is to start from the neck and down his back.”

Seles took a moment. Her sun hat nearly covered her eyes, but Colette could imagine the curiosity in them, and knew Lloyd would see it too.

When she took the hairbrush, Zelos groaned slightly. “Our carpet’s gonna be a mess.”

“That’s what we have Sebastian and Tokunaga for,” she deftly answered. Then she followed Lloyd’s instructions, letting him guide her arm. The brush moved through tangles gently. Noishe stretched out his forelegs, clearly enjoying the sensation. 

But Colette had seen something pass over Zelos’ face; something of relief, the brief shadow of a smile. She walked up to him, and soon that smile transformed into the leering grin that he always seemed to put on. 

“Oh, angel~ Gonna give me that therapy session I’ve been asking for?”

“I was thinking we could do that today for you too actually!” she answered.

Zelos froze, blinking twice before saying, “You serious?”

She pointed towards Noishe who was now lying on the floor, his head settling on Seles’ knees. More brushing against the sides of his neck, Lloyd now sitting back and watching with pride.

“Oh.” Zelos shook his head. “Nah, I’m not really a dog person. Seles is more into animals than me.”

“Hm.” Colette pressed her lips together. “But maybe Seles would be happy if you joined her too?”

 A pause. “I mean…she won’t care if I do. I annoy her, remember?”

“Are you sure about that?” With a bit more assertiveness than she was used to, she took Zelos’ hand to bring him forward. “You can get to know Lloyd.”

“Whoa, getting a little handsy there,” Zelos teased, but she could see the nervousness around his eyes, how they slightly flickered from side to side. Yet after all this time of visiting the Wilder home, she had always thought that more than one person here needed to pet a dog.

And Noishe had the softest fur she had ever felt. Or, one of the softest…

“Hey! You wanna brush him too?” Lloyd took out another hairbrush from his pocket, handing it to Zelos. “You can get the back while Seles takes care of the front.”

“...Do you seriously carry more than one of these? Who does that?” Even as Zelos argued, he still accepted it, kneeling on the floor to get close to the dog. “Everytime I look at this thing, it seems even bigger…”

“Aw, is the Great Zelos scared of a puppy?” Seles smirked, the color in her cheeks brighter now. She even seemed to breathe easier too. “It’s okay, you can let your big sis handle this.”

“Now you know I can’t let that stand!” But once Zelos started to brush, and doing so quite naturally (Colette figured that was why his long hair always looked so pretty), his fingers had made contact with Noishe’s fur. He stopped, blinked, then continued brushing, but slower this time.

“It’s soft, isn’t it?” Colette asked him.

She could swear that the shadows that sometimes lined his face brightened then, that his lips lifted into a more genuine smile. Even his voice was more hushed. “Gotta admit…This feels nice.”

Noishe, who looked to be in doggy paradise, turned his head towards Zelos. Then he leaned forward, giving him a quick lick across the cheek.

Zelos flinched. “Ugh! Slobber!”

“Be nice, Zelos,” Seles scolded, but she was still happily brushing away, humming as she did so.

Eventually, Lloyd got up to leave Zelos and Seles with Noishe, standing by Colette’s side. “So… we did good, you think?”

Colette sported a thumbs-up. “You two did amazing! How do you feel?”

A soft beat before he answered, glancing to the siblings who were now laughing with each other. “Real good.”

Sometimes, certain clients give unique challenges like this. But it was worth it to help people. She was glad to see Lloyd understood that too.

–

Their next visit was to a more public place this time. The Sybak hospital at the north part of town always welcomed volunteers from Altamira Pet Paradise, so that at least Lloyd and Colette wouldn’t be by themselves. 

“You know, hospitals usually have a limit on the size of the pet visiting.” Genis had been a volunteer for a year now, his pet budgie perched on his shoulder. He was looking at Lloyd’s dog with great curiosity. “But dogs usually get a special preference.”

“Hey, Noishe hasn’t done anything wrong!” Lloyd argued seriously. And Noishe was indeed the perfect picture of a pet, seated on the floor quietly as other pets engaged with patients on the lower floor. Genis snickered, moving his budgie to his finger.

“I was just kidding. Although, they didn’t let in the horse that one time…”

“Aw, that’s right,” Colette said with a sigh. “I think the patients here would have loved braiding her mane…”

“Wait, you never told me you have a horse volunteer!" Lloyd's excitement was enough to even get Noishe's tail wagging. "I wanna see it.”

“Maybe next time!” Colette reached for Lloyd’s arm, pointing to an elevator. “We’re supposed to be meeting another patient on the 14th floor. She isn’t able to come downstairs.”

This was also a special case - Regal had asked them specifically to see this certain patient. “I believe she would greatly enjoy seeing Noishe,” he had told them, though he hadn’t expanded much further.

It had already been a few weeks since Lloyd and Noishe became volunteers. Even so, Colette made sure to stick by them, whether it was at the facility, or out to other locations. It was to make sure they were getting used to it. That was all.

And yet, as they gathered in the elevator, as Noishe sidled by Colette's side, inviting another pet she was all too happy to give, she noticed how her heart would beat just a tiny bit faster when Lloyd was close by.

A furtive glance at his face, one that she tried to pass off as checking on the highlighted number of each floor they passed through - but Lloyd had caught the stare. The eyes that she was so fascinated by clutched her in warm bronze. "Something up?"

"Ah, no, just, um…" Another stroke through Noishe's fur, and her nervousness dissipated. But also, Lloyd's easy smile didn't make her nervous for long anyway. "I was just thinking, how long have you had Noishe? Which shelter did you get him from?"

She knew a few, with some that she had volunteered at in the past before working with Regal. Though she believed she would have remembered a dog like Noishe…

"I guess I never told you that," Lloyd said, and it seemed he was also thinking on his answer, as if, maybe, there was more than one choice to give her. But how could that be? "But, I didn't get him from a shelter. I've had him for as long as I can remember."

 "Oh, you grew up with Noishe?" It made so much sense to her now, with just how well they clicked together. "So your parents adopted him from one?"

And somehow, this question made Lloyd look a little nervous, made him shift, as if he would say the wrong thing to her. "It's kinda hard to explain…"

The elevator doors opened then. Just as Lloyd gently tugged on Noishe's leash to lead him, he said to Colette, "Can I tell you later about it? I promise I will. It's just kinda complicated to say it in just five minutes."

Intrigue, wonder, and perhaps a little guilt for putting Lloyd on the spot with such questions; she would have apologized just then if Lloyd hadn't also added something else.

"Also, don't apologize. I can tell you're wanting to." He grinned, the action bringing dimples to his cheeks. "I wanna tell you when I'm able to."

She decided to trust him on that. "Okay. I'll keep you to your promise then!"

After that, it was only a small trip down the hospital hallway, the floors scrubbed clean, and the entire area quiet except for their footfalls. "I think it was room number…" Colette thought aloud, until she saw a doctor, her hair a brilliant silver shine, open a nearby door, its number that had been on the tip of her tongue. "Dr. Sage, it's good to see you!"

"Oh, Colette, and a new volunteer, it looks like?" The woman adjusted her glasses as she studied them both, and then of course, her gaze drew down to Noishe. "Hm. I've never seen such a breed."

Colette never figured that out either… Another thing that she needed Lloyd to tell her!

"Anyway, I heard from Regal that you're here to see Presea. She's still recovering, so please don't overstimulate her." 

She didn't stay long, already heading down the hallway, the door to the room left open. There was just the sharp clack of the doctor's heels on the floors, and a gentle beeping pattern from within the room.

It really was so quiet, and perhaps something about it set something uneasy in Colette. She wasn't sure why.

"Colette?" Lloyd placed a hand against her back, his fingertips just barely touching her shirt. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. We can't keep them waiting." And with that, she might have fully opened the door fully a little too quickly, nearly tripping over herself with the effort. But the sight of the child in the bed, her right arm hooked to the medical device that kept its beeping rhythm, seemed to be enough to distract her, as well as Lloyd.

"Oh, hello," spoke the child - except she didn't sound like one at all. Her voice held the tone of an adult, despite her appearance, her pink hair tied up in twin ponytails. She sat up with a bit of difficulty. "I didn't expect any visitors today."

"We're with Altamira Pet Paradise," Lloyd quickly answered - and Colette didn't realize at first how she had strangely hesitated. She was suddenly so distracted and tired, but Lloyd gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he moved into the room with Noishe. "I'm Lloyd, that's Colette, and here's Noishe." A little excited gesture to show off his dog, who gently yipped at the sound of his name. "Your name is Presea?"

"Yes, it is." Presea's blue eyes held a curiosity much like a child, yet still her voice sounded much older. Her white gown was even a bit oversized on her. But she held a steady gaze when she looked at both Lloyd and Noishe. "They usually don't allow animals on this floor so…why now?"

Lloyd didn't know how to answer that, and unfortunately, neither did Colette. But instead of staying in silence, he brought Noishe closer to the girl's bed, assessing her reaction. She didn't move back or turn away, and in fact, seemed to move in closer.

"Do you like dogs?" Lloyd asked her. 

"Hm…I like paw pads," she told him. Her hands clutched the bed sheet draped across her legs, but not in fear. It was as if she was stopping herself.

"You can pet him," he suggested, letting Noishe rest his chin on the bed. "Hm, or better yet, you wanna see his paw pads?"

"Oh…" Presea blinked, raising her head to him. Colette had moved closer by now, and only then could she see the scar just below the girl's collar bone in the shape of an oval. It was as if something had been excised from there recently. "Is it alright to?"

"Of course it is! Here. Just ask him to shake. Easiest way to see them."

Presea paused again, but she looked towards Noishe, finally releasing the blanket to hold out her hand to him. "Shake?"

Immediately, Noishe raised up his left paw, placing it perfectly in Presea's open palm.

"There you go!" Lloyd cheered. He extended his arm then to gently turn up Noishe's palm. "Just so you know, he's a little ticklish here."

"Ah, I see." But even as she spoke, her gaze was solely for Noishe and his soft paw pads. She gently poked a finger against it, and the dog wagged his tail as a result, complete with a soft whine.

"Oh no, did I hurt him?" Presea asked, her tone oddly montone despite her words.

"Nah, don't worry. He's just letting you know it tickles." Lloyd stayed back, letting the girl examine the paw pads as if they were a new discovery. "You can pet him and hug him too."

Presea seemed to consider this, and used her other hand to pet his head. A soft gasp from her, followed by a scratch behind Noishe's right ear. She smiled for the first time, echoing something young in her. "He's so soft…both his fur and his paw pads…Thank you."

It was only later, after they had finally left the hospital, going back to the therapy center to report on their trip for the day, did Colette learn a bit more about Presea. She had been only 12 years old when she had been involved in a terrible accident, one that had sent her in a coma for the next decade. Many had believed she would never wake again, except for the individual who paid for her medical expenses, who also helped further research into her condition - a man named Regal Bryant.

And after looking through her file back at the therapy center, Colette wanted to tell Lloyd all about this, yet still she couldn't shake the feeling from earlier, that strange sadness, hearing the quiet of the halls and the echoes of footsteps far off into the distance. Maybe, because…it had reminded her of another place…

She was clutching the papers detailing their trip, holding them so tightly, until a voice called out, "Colette. Me and Noishe are about to head home… Are you alright?"

She made herself unclench her fingers, finally placing the papers down on the reception desk. "Y-yeah, I'm okay," she said with a giggle. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

She thought that would be it, until Lloyd, with those eyes she kept finding herself drawn to, said, "If I tell you more about Noishe later, will you tell me more about yourself?"

Colette was speechless for a moment, wondering where such words came from. Maybe he was joking, or playing a prank on her. But Lloyd looked at her seriously, and it was hard to turn away.

"Will you tell me about yourself too?" she found herself asking.

At that, Lloyd grinned. "The thing about Noishe…it has to do with me too. Can't have one without the other. I have to get home but I promise next time for sure." 

He waved to her, though, for a second, she thought he had been about to do something else. Like when he had pressed his hand against her back, so lightly, but so warm.

She almost wished he had done what he wanted to do first, but she nodded. "Then, I promise, too."

--

Their schedules had been packed for the next few days; a classroom of kindergarteners came to visit the center, and had completely taken over Lloyd and Noishe’s time. Though, not that Noishe minded, perfectly happy to give those small enough to ride him, and the children careful to not tug at his fur or ears. 

Colette also had to go out to visit other places that needed their services, from the nearby hospitals to private homes. She was perfect with every dog she handled, and watched over other volunteers who needed both her guidance and patience.

Though this meant her and Lloyd were separated, now fully engulfed in Regal’s work. Until, news came to her on an already quite busy Thursday.

“...Dad?” she whispered as she answered her cellphone, having just gotten back to the center from her trip out. She had not even put her purse down, instead slowly walking behind the reception desk. “Is there something wrong?”

A few moments, her breath held still. She nodded. “Okay, I’ll be there soon. Thank you.”

It's late in the day…Most of Regal's doggies are asleep…The other volunteers can watch over the animals. But who should I bring? Grandmother seems to like Pippy the most… 

But as she moved to leave, she didn't see exactly where she was going - and that was how she tripped over Noishe, who was laying contently on the floor near one of the doorways.

"Waa!" 

She flailed to grab onto something. Instead, a hand caught her around the waist, making her fall into someone's chest. A soft impact, with softer texture. Even with the dog fur that was quite everywhere in the center, she could still find his familiar scent.

"Whoa! Sorry, I was, uh, just trying to catch you." Though even as he said so, Lloyd wasn't moving away, arm still wrapped around her as if her knees would buckle just then. To be fair, Colette wasn’t sure if she’d be unable to stop herself from falling again without his hand.

“Aha…I’m just, really clumsy sometimes.” With a gentle press of her palms against his chest, she gathered herself to stand again on unshaking legs. “I was… in a hurry to get somewhere, that’s all.”

It was hard to expand on it, even when she could see the question hovering in Lloyd’s eyes. Would he ask her? Maybe part of her was aching for it.

“Okay then,” Lloyd finally said, nodding in understanding. “If you need to.”

“...Yeah, I do.” Colette tried to hide the disappointment. It’s not like any of this was Lloyd’s concern after all, and he was probably already busy himself - 

“Want me to drive you?” 

The hue of his eyes caught her, along with his smile. The same smile that always seemed to disarm her, just a little bit. What was it about Lloyd’s smile? Maybe because it was so open and held nothing else behind it. It reminded her of something…

“I don’t have other places to be today, and everyone else here already is being taken care of by the other volunteers,” Lloyd was saying, bringing a hand to scratch at his cheek. Again, that smile. The honesty in it was enough to pull at her chest. “And, maybe I’ve just been working here long enough…but it seems like you need some help?”

Colette was unsure how to answer - because she’s supposed to help other people. Not herself. Why should it be herself when so many others need it more than she did?

She felt something press into her hand. It was a sensation she knew immediately, the wet contact of a dog’s nose.

Colette blinked, looking down to see Noishe’s bright black eyes, the whiskers from his snout, and the long ears that shifted like the swaying of grass in the wind.

Lloyd gave a small laugh at the sight, so warm and sincere in its tones. “Maybe I should ask…do you need Noishe’s help?”

His fur was just beneath her fingertips, and when she reached down to pet him, her legs felt less wobbly, and the strange static buzz in her head since receiving the phone call began to evaporate. She took a breath, in and out, and then another, all while Noishe remained with her.

And Lloyd. But she couldn’t very well reach out to pet him…Not again…

“I need to go to the Iselia Nursing Home,” she told him. “And… I think Noishe would be perfect to come along.” She paused. “He could help someone there.”

It was hard to admit it yet, but Lloyd didn’t push. Instead, he simply nodded, whistling Noishe to his side, and holding out a hand towards Colette. “Let’s get going then. We can beat the traffic rush if we go now.”

His hand was there to keep her from falling. That was why he reached out to her, she told herself. But that didn’t stop her heart racing when she accepted it, his warmth seeping into her skin.

-

Her grandmother seemed happy here, Colette thought.

The retirement home was certainly one of the more expensive in town, a place that had definitely been out of the reach of her father’s savings. But Phaidra Brunel had been beloved by her fellow church members, beloved by the pastors and acolytes, and the parish’s coffers were deeper than any one man’s. They would always make sure one of their most dedicated to their church was well-taken care of.

When they finally arrived, Colette was careful to keep her eyes away from the symbols of worship placed around the walls and over doorways, yet it didn’t stop the prayers that went through her mind by rote. Like a poem that she had been taught to memorize, to focus on the meaning of each word, and each tangibility. 

It was just something she had to go through whenever she was here. Like the echoes of her footsteps when she used to walk the church’s hallways…

“Oh, Colette! You have a new dog?”

The residents of the retirement home all knew her, some even knowing the dogs by name that she would bring, like Pippy, and Dot, and even Sprinkles when Regal had joined her on a few trips. But from some of the seated residents, most of them gathered in the main living room area, with a view of the patio outside and the sunlight streaming in through silk curtains, she could tell a few of their gazes switched to Lloyd who stood next to her.

Lloyd showed no doubt in his voice, already raising a hand in a wave, bringing Noishe to the forefront. “Hey! This is my best pal, Noishe. He’s happy to meet a lot of new people.”

It wasn’t an exaggeration. Noishe was already trotting up to a few residents, even those with unsteady hands who snagged at his collar in their attempts to pet him. A lady in an old-fashioned polka dot dress gushed at his long ears, while a man who needed to wear a special device for his oxygen tank nearby commented on the luster of his fur. Still, one or two of the residents may have held a certain prayer book in their hands. 

“Do you still sing at the choir, Colette?” one elderly man asked, clutching a cane in his right hand while petting Noishe’s head with the other.

“Ah no, Matthew… I’ve been much too busy,” she explained to him, as she had done on her last few visits here. “I’m here to see Phaidra.”

“Oh, she’s right outside, near the garden,” spoke another, though for now, it was hard for Colette to place. Lloyd must have seen her feet shift on the floorboards, or heard the weariness in her voice. He gently tugged on Noishe’s leash, said a few words to the residents and then took Colette’s hand as well. Just outside, they said. It used to be quite easy for her, but the guilt in her had only increased since.

She didn’t really think twice about Lloyd helping her along gently, not until they were outside the retirement home again, with Phaidra seated underneath a bowed tree in her wheelchair, a blanket draped over her knees. A few months ago, she had insisted on just using her cane, but now it was nowhere to be found.

“Chosen?” Phaidra turned her head, and her smile lifted in a sea full of wrinkles. “Oh, Chosen! How wonderful it is to see you.”

She could feel Lloyd stall at the title, could feel herself stall at it - but she pressed forward, reaching out to clasp the elderly woman’s hands in her own. “Hello, grandmother. Father told me you asked to see me.”

“Of course, of course,” Phaidra nodded. Her blonde hair, held up by red clips on both sides of her head, was of a more faded color than Colette’s, as if lightened by the sun. “The church will be having its festival quite soon, and they would absolutely love to have you. I’ve already put in a good word for you. They also loved your hymn singing from years back. Do you still sing, Chosen?”

Colette continued to smile, even as her mind stilled. “I do sometimes. But, Regal still needs me at the therapy center and…”

This was where Phaidra would keep talking, on the new church events she had been keeping track of and oh, please, would Colette not consider going to a Mass soon and-

But instead, her grandmother looked behind her. She felt Noishe’s fur brush her arm, instantly soothing, instantly gratifying.

“Oh my! He feels so heavenly!” spoke Phaidra, releasing Colette’s hands to pet Noishe’s head.

Noishe’s fur was like magic, Colette thought.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice you were here too.” Phaidra looked to Lloyd who greeted her with a bright smile. “Is this your dog? He’s as big as a horse!” But she said so with laughter.

“Yeah, he’s mine. I’m Lloyd, by the way.” The breeze tugged at his hair, a few of the fallen leaves gathering at his feet. “He must know you really like dogs!”

Phaidra was giggling, almost odd to hear from someone so aged in years. But she stroked Noishe’s head, gently tracing his long ears with wonder. “He’s so very precious… Did you give this one a name too, Colette?”

She chuckled before she answered - a bit easier than before, now that she heard a name before any title. “He already had a name when he joined…His name is Noishe.”

Colette always wondered if her love of dogs came from her grandmother.

-

Phaidra was insistent on having Noishe beside her, and the dog was only too happy to comply. Underneath the afternoon sun, Noishe laid out on the grass by Phaidra’s wheelchair, pressing his head to her knee as she stroked him with slightly bent hands, the liver spots on her fingers highlighted by the sunshine. 

It was relaxing for them both, enough that Colette felt it was okay for her to step away for a bit, to move to a part of the garden where an angel statue was placed. The vines curled around its body, snagging onto its wing continuously, that had it been alive, would have made it impossible for such a being to fly.

“Colette,” she heard from behind her. Lloyd’s voice didn’t startle her, and she waited until he was by her side, hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. “You feeling okay?”

“Hm? Um, yeah! I feel fine.” She smiled at him. “Thanks for coming with me to check up on my grandmother. I knew she’d love Noishe.”

She wasn’t sure what she expected, but when Lloyd reached to hold her hand in his, it had sent her heart racing again - but in a way that she found addicting. 

“I promised I’d tell you about Noishe and me,” he said then, flicking a glance to his dog who stayed by Phaidra, his fur speckled from the sunshine that filtered through the branches. 

Colette took a moment, knowing what else this meant. “You did.”

She watched him take a small breath, his fingers twining with hers so naturally. Maybe it was his touch that made her feel more calm, something that she had only ever really felt when running her hand through fur…or through someone’s hair.

“When I was three years old, I was found with Noishe. We were lying on some dirt road that my dad happened to be traveling on… Well, my foster dad.” Lloyd grinned. “I’m adopted. And I guess Noishe is too. No one knew where we came from, or who my parents were. I think it’s, like, officially determined we were abandoned. No one’s ever filed a missing child report for me, so it’s probably true.”

Colette processed the information, unsure what to say. “Lloyd…”

“Hey, it’s okay. I already have a family - just not blood-related.” He squeezed her hand. “And so does Noishe. Back when I was a kid, he was so scared of everything. He barely ever wanted to go outside. I think it’s because of whatever happened to us. Maybe an accident, or someone was trying to hurt us… But I can’t remember anything at all.”

Noishe, the giant dog who continually asked for pets and went out of his way to greet new people. The dog with his strange whines that sounded almost like music when you pet him just right…

“He used to only be able to whine. Not even bark. It took a really long time for him to get braver.” Lloyd raised a curious glance to the angel statue next to them. “I’ve tried finding out about where we might have come from… But no luck. I don’t think it matters anyway. Noishe has gotten better since. Maybe… we’re just better off not knowing?”

Colette held his hand tightly. “But, it’s okay to want to know,” she reassured, then paused. “Ah, sorry.”

Lloyd laughed a little, his teeth showing in a half-grin. “You’re such a dork. Don’t be sorry. I guess it’s not bad to want to know, just…” And then he looked at her, moving just slightly closer as he held her hand. “There’s more important things.”

With that, Lloyd faced her fully, one hand up, his grin wide. “Your turn now!”

Colette blinked. “My turn…?”

“Hey, don’t go back on your promise “Remember? You said you’d tell me more about you after I told you about me.”

Oh, he was right! She had completely forgotten about that.

“Well, it’s not like I have much interesting stuff to say,” she protested a bit.

Then Lloyd took her other hand, clasping it tight. She could see into his eyes much clearer now, the sun shining against his hair, almost tempting to touch.

“Try me.”

Maybe something like this should have made her more nervous, or sent spikes of anxiety through her spine, or laid something heavy on her shoulders. Because, whenever she thought about herself, that was how she felt.

But Lloyd and his touch seemed to make her feel calm instead.

“I just… get a little overwhelmed when I’m here.” Colette took a deep breath. “I left my church years ago and…I just haven't stopped feeling guilty since. My grandmother keeps thinking I’ll come back someday. There was a lot in place for me, for when I took over her role in the church because I was…chosen.” She giggled half-heartedly. “It sounds really weird when I say it out loud like this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lloyd reassured, holding both of her hands, urging her to continue.

Another deep breath as she brushed her thumb against his. “But a few years back, I met Regal and saw what he was trying to do… He had so many doggies that helped so many people! And, maybe it was selfish of me but I didn’t want to stay at the church and take up their roles and take vows that just keep me-” She stopped, cleared her throat. “I wanted to do something different instead. Even though I still pray sometimes and remember all the verses. But, it’s not like how it used to be. Regal wouldn’t force me to stay at the center if I no longer wanted to…”

She was rambling. She had never mentioned so much of this to anyone before, only bits and pieces. “As…the chosen in my church, they said I could help people with their charity and prayers but…I wanted to help people in my own way…In a way that I felt more like me.” Another pause. “I’m sorry.”

Lloyd’s voice didn’t let her falter in her guilt for long.

“Why are you apologizing for being you?”

“I…”

She almost felt like she would cry then, and maybe she was, feeling the heat around her eyes. But Lloyd didn’t turn away. “I think you want to pet something,” he said.

She sniffled a little. “Yeah…but Noishe is with grandmother now…”

Something passed in Lloyd’s face; a brief flush on his cheeks, a smile with a tinge of nervousness. “Well…okay, maybe this is weird, but, hear me out! You could always pet…someone else?”

“But who?” They had no other dogs with them…

Even though she already knew.

“Um…Man, you’re really gonna make me show you…” Lloyd took a deep breath, then with quickness, placed Colette’s hands on top of his head. Her fingers went through his hair, which was soft and fluffy.

Oh, she missed this feeling.

“...Okay, this is probably too dumb, sorry,” spoke Lloyd, his face now as red as his sweatshirt. But just as he was about to pull her hands away, she remained locked in place.

“No, let me pet a little more!” Colette was saying. “Um, if it’s okay!”

Lloyd blinked, the red in his cheeks having only increased. “Uh, s-sure! Is this helping?”

“Yeah!” Colette smiled wide, running her fingers through his hair. “You feel exactly like Noishe!”

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment!” spoke Lloyd, laughing with her.

“You must brush your hair a lot…”

“I mean, kinda? I mostly just use gel.”

“Oh, that’s why your hair sticks up like that!” She giggled, pressing her palms against his swept up spikes. “It’s cute.”

“Aw, you’re gonna mess it up a little…”

She was intoxicated with touching him like this, the kind that made her head feel light and her chest full of airy bubbles. Maybe that was why it felt easy to step in closer to him, his face near hers, until she was kissing him before she was aware of it.

It was so light and warm. Her hands still rushed through his hair, slowly, enjoying the texture against her skin.

“I…didn’t mean for that to happen,” Lloyd said, his breath low. “At least, not right now.”

Right. Her grandmother was still nearby. But her back was turned, and Noishe provided her with the best distraction.

“I think now was a perfect time,” she told Lloyd, leaning in for another kiss, seeing his smile before she closed her eyes.

Noishe’s fur was healing, but there was something about Lloyd’s touch that was more magical than anything else.

[darkhymns-fic]

So I’ve Been Told

Like nomads they both were. Raine knew that to stay in one place too long - and to believe in another - was to invite suspicion. Besides, only Genis was her family, and nobody else.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Raine Sage, Genis Sage, Dirk, Phaidra Brunel Rating: G Mirror Links: AO3, FF.net Notes: Written for Tales of Symphonia Week 2017, for Oct 9 - Friends and Family. (A day late, sorry!)

What Raine remembered most from waking up that morning was the taste of mana in the air; so light and weak.

“We didn’t sleep much when we traveled, did we?” Genis would ask her sometimes. He’d mutter a spell of flames to put the kindling on the stove to work. Shortly afterwards, there was a scent of spices, topped with freshly cut onions and peppers and parsley, to accompany the buttery rice that Raine held in her own dinner bowl.

“No. You cried every night. Quite a task for a young girl to keep you silent from the wolves, but we managed.” She poked the rice with her fork, ideas of exotic recipes surfacing in her mind. Surely, with rice so soft and fluffy, adding a bit of texture – perhaps of the gravelly kind – would bring about a new dish that people would appreciate. Something to keep in mind when she experimented tomorrow.

Genis was quiet for a moment, taste-testing their meal with a sip from the wooden spoon. “I don’t remember much from that.” He paused. “I’m sorry I was a lot of trouble.”

“You don’t need to apologize, Genis. I’ve already told you.” She took a bite from the rice, appreciating the lush flavors on her tongue, already forgetting her need to improve upon it. “We managed, and now we’re here.”

However, it had not always been that easy.

.

.

.

“An abomination,” one lady had whispered, shutting her door to the starving children. It had not been said as an aside, or as a floating thought that was not meant to be heard by any passerby. It was the words of one filled with utter conviction, whispered like a warding spell that would keep terrible demons at bay. Such words had been thrown at Raine right at her feet, circling around her like a ring of stones, keeping her imprisoned from the rest of the world.

That night once again, Genis had cried.

“It’s okay. It’s alright.” With small hands, the young girl brought forth what little mana she could, inducing calm, wrapped in feathers and cotton, around her baby brother. The patch of the forest they resided in for the night was so dark, and she had thought for sure she had heard the soft sound of padded feet from only a few feet away. Still, even with the world’s lack of mana, she could coax out enough to work her spells. Strange adults had wanted her for her magic, her mother once said. And back home, there was no escaping them.

So she and Genis had left home, suddenly and viciously. When she had woken up, all she could recall was the taste of mana in the air; so light and weak.

Genis’ cries lessened, and he sunk in deeper in his tattered blanket. Yet as he slept, Raine felt tears leave her eyes. She held her only family close, hoping for the sun to rise as soon as possible. There was the village far-off ahead of her, rooftops coated in silver light, thick smoke from the hearths rising into the air. The door that had been shut to her was hidden by the rise of the hill, its doorknob still twisted off its clasp of poor workmanship, its sole-window still stained from age and wear.

It was not a sight she could forget, no matter how much she slept, or dreamed, or wished.

This house was different.

A trek down well-worn dirt paths led both half-elves to the work of a master craftsman. The ivy crawled up the eaves of the home, hanging from it like a tapestry of rich green. It even clung through the slim openings between the wooden planks of the front door, yet not in the ways of an invader. Soft light peered out through several windows on the ground floor, highlighting the potted plants outside. For decoration? No. Raine looked closer and saw they were plants of a medicinal nature, for treating scrapes and wounds if a doctor was nowhere nearby.

They were not nearby anything, except for this large house placed on private land, seeming so warm and inviting in the night.

“Sis?” Genis tugged on her arm. He already spoke clear and well for a child of four. She said nothing, instead fixing his long, silver hair to hide the sharp points of his ear. An uncanny eye could notice the details; the soft hint of bluntness around that point, indicating a weaker link to the blood of those elves, secreting themselves away into forests beyond human knowledge.

They smelled food. It was too hard to ignore.

“Let me talk,” she told him. At fifteen, she could pull off a maturity that most adults found charming – until she let her tone carry her away into rudeness. But she had learned how to make due in their passage, living off the roads and a few strangers’ kindness. It had not felt right to her to impose herself on that caravan, despite their zoological ambitions. She had immersed herself in their self-written academic texts for so long, but could not give much else back – they were only traveling bags, her clothes, and the precious papers in her pocket. Besides, wandering the world had become the norm.

Wrapped in traveling cloaks that she had bartered for in the fishing town of Izoold, both Raine and and Genis passed stores of barrels – more food supplies perhaps, arranged by an owner who knew the importance of sustainability – and made their way to the door. Off to the right, she could see a stable, and hear the soft huffing of a creature. The moonlight reflected off its eyes, yet it did not growl or come forward like most guard animals. Instead, a little whine left its throat, and it retreated further back into its stable.

Raine knocked on the door. What next she noticed – and stored away for future reference – were the heavy footsteps beyond that door, like a boulder that had suddenly sprouted two feet.

The door opened. Her eyes instantly latched onto the cooking pot to the left of an open room, the ladle having been left within its contents as steam rose. Once she focused in front of her, she was thrown off guard once she saw that the house owner only barely reached her height. “Ah, don’t get many strangers at this time of night.”

Raine knew him to be a dwarf, though she had never seen one before. She had read about them in old books that the kindly historian had once let her borrow. The information in such books had been scarce still. Recalling what little she knew, she inclined her head slightly, yet forgone the female dwarven greeting of arranging one’s long braids before her neck – a gesture of openness, that no secrets shall be kept. All the more fitting, she thought. Her hair was short anyway, and her secrets were as long and as hidden as the lower-most roots of the great everwoods.

“Good evening. I beg of you a favor to show me the way,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “Me and my brother are trying to find the path leading towards, Iselia, the village of oracles. The forest has been confusing our senses, and so we have gotten lost.”

Her request finished, Raine stood before the dwarf, unnerved that she had to look down to meet the other’s eyes. She had only ever had to meet such an angle with Genis.

“My, how well-spoken you are, lass! Though if ye want to be more convincing, I’d suggest keeping your eyes rooted to me instead of my dinner!”

Raine could feel the flush rising to her cheeks. She shook it away, hoping it would not highlight the ears she kept hidden beneath the careful arrangement of her hair. “That’s – I apologize. I did not mean to impose. I really am only looking for directions to Iselia.”

“Yet how can you travel on an empty stomach? My forge is still shaping my latest work, and the ringing of my hammer still sits in my ears. Even through all that, I can hear both of your stomachs growling like a mangy wolf searching for his next meal!”

Raine’s voice died instantly. Even through all her travels, she had not met anyone quite like this dwarf – one that caught onto her mind, and who met it straight on with a wide smile. Genis was staring, eyes open and curious, holding tight to her hand while he shifted on tired feet.

“I…” she stopped, then started again. “I do not wish to impose.”

The dwarf waved away her concerns. “Nonsense, lass. I was only cooking some leftovers for myself. My boy ate the last batch all by himself, and now he’s out like a light.” He laughed at that, and there was a genuine happiness there that Raine instantly envied. “You are free to rest yourselves and have a bite or two. I’ve always made it my business to have my home open to weary travelers – though I guess that is so because most of my clients are travelers – traveling to meet with me that is!”

Raine put the information together. She had examined what she could see of the home; the forge that was near the stove, the bundles of swords that lay wrapped in cloth, hanging within a metal basket on the floor. Dwarves were the original metalsmiths of the world, after all.

“The name’s Dirk, by the way. Like the weapon, though I am not as deadly as one! Ya don’t need to give your names if you wish to keep them a secret, but my food is available to the nameless.” He gestured, leaving the door open. So trusting he was. Was it because he was not human? “Come, before you catch more colds than ye already have!”

Genis sniffled at the comment, then did a great sneeze that made Raine flinch. “Sorry,” the child spoke, eyes wandering to that cooking pot.

Raine swallowed.

“I don’t want to impose.” She shook her head. “I must… speak with the priests at Iselia. I have a recommendation.” A secret revealed without her meaning to. She refrained herself from petting the pocket where that paper was kept, scrawled by the kind historian’s writing. “Please. Just show me the way and we will leave you alone.”

She ignored Genis’ sad eyes, tried to brush past the dwarf’s look of slight confusion. She could not let herself stay long here, nor at Iselia, nor anywhere. She would learn, she would adapt, and then she would leave with her brother in tow. Never long enough for one to be curious about their heritage, to question why full-blooded elves would stray so far from their hidden homes.

Dirk seemed to have not heard her then. Instead, he walked over to the cooking pot, reaching out for bowls that were placed conveniently near a work table. Raine was speechless as he proceeded to serve the still simmering food, even going so far as to tear off a loaf of bread that was sitting within a woven basket.

He came back to the door, two bowls complete with utensils in each hand, bread crusts dipped into a concoction of spices, of onions, of peppers and parsley. The ingredients were swimming in sauces steeped from well-tenderized meats, the kind that were probably imported from a butcher’s market. He handed one of them to her.

“For your travels. I can vouch that they will do your empty stomachs good.”

There were suspicions; it would not be the first time a stranger had tried to poison her or her brother, their hatred for half-elves running deep. But none of the tell-tale shiftiness was in the dwarf’s eyes. She took one bowl, and let Dirk hand the other to her brother.

“I will not ask you to stay in my home if you do not wish. But I will say the glade beyond the stream is safe, and a good campsite. No beasts of the night will come near, that I can promise you.”

The dwarf spoke to her as if she were a ready-made friend. Even the kindly historian had taken time to show some hospitality.

“Once you go to Iselia, be sure to ask for Phaidra or Frank. Both she and her son-in-law are good people, and she has the kindliest granddaughter one ever did see. I’m sure that will make your recommendation go down easier, my friend.”

Raine felt warmth in her palms; from her brother’s ever-lasting grip, from the clay bowl she held delicately in one hand. “I hope to teach,” she confessed. “Just for a little while.”

Dirk smiled at her. “Those with brains are what’s sorely needed these days. I’m sure you can teach my son a thing or two!”

She wanted to ask him about his son, suddenly. But she only thanked him, leaving quickly with a stuttering Genis, who could only half-thank him back. The dwarf reassured her to keep the bowls, or leave them by the stream if she so wished.

Past that same stream with the moon shining high, both ate their fill of their meal, savoring the heat and taste, one that never left her through the years. When she woke up the next day, back no longer aching from its rest on the soft grass, with Genis curled next to her, the mana still tasted light and weak. But it was no longer so frightening.

“History seems to be Colette’s favorite subject,” Raine said, arranging her graded papers on her desk.

“Ah, yes. She always asks me or Frank to read a story from one of the Church’s tomes. She loves the tales of Spiritua so.”

Phaidra only rarely visited the schoolhouse, but a newly-arranged priestess took over her temple duties for the day. Raine had guided the old woman to a student’s seat that was just across from her. The imagery seemed a little absurd to her, privately. Here she was, a teacher of only eighteen years, speaking to an elderly, worldly woman in a desk where innocent but juvenile scribbles were drawn.

“Oh my, what a charming picture of a dog.” Phaidra traced one such scribble across the desk’s surface, admiring the detail of the tail specifically. “Is this Lloyd’s work?”

“Yes.” Raine sighed. Even making Lloyd sit at the front of the class could not get the boy to concentrate. “He had been drawing it for Colette.”

“How sweet of him! No wonder she was so happy today.” Phaidra chuckled, still holding onto her gnarled cane in her left hand.

“Anyway… Colette is doing well in all of her subjects. She also seems to be more open with speaking with others, mostly with Lloyd and Genis. Overall, she has been a wonderful student.”

Phaidra nodded before Raine even finished. The knowledge was nothing new, yet she had wanted to hear it from the elf herself. “It is all due to a wonderful teacher such as yourself.”

“Ah… I only gave her the tools. She used them well enough on her own.” The compliment did not sit with her well.

“You have a way with teaching, Raine. Perhaps it is an elven trait, but the village and its children have never been better, I can promise you that.”

Raine only nodded. She shuffled the papers around even more, the peppering of red marks adorning each one, some more than the other.

“I hope that one day you can accept that you have a family here.”

Raine looked up, eyes wide. The old woman only looked on her kindly, dressed in the robes of those who followed Martel, the embossed designs of her dress indicating her high status within the Church. Twin braids flowed past her ears, their shine contrasting the tan wrinkles that was her face.

The elf – half-elf, they will never accept you – swallowed. “Your words are kind, Phaidra.” But Genis is the only family I have.

Phaidra nodded once again. She then leaned upon the cane to stand up, her feet tottering on the hardwood floors. The setting sun reflected off her burnished hair, bringing to mind the young, golden-haired child that Raine could not help but smile at whenever she spoke with her brother. A smile tinged with strain, hoping that her sibling kept his own hair arranged just so, for eyes can be quick and suspicious.

They had already stayed here far too long.

“Then I hope that, at the very least, you can consider us all as your friends.” Phaidra was already at the door of the classroom, startling Raine from her brief daydream. “Colette already believes you are.”

.

.

.

In the morning, Raine woke to the taste of mana in the air; weaker and lighter than the days before.

Her classes would not start again for several days, a fact that gave the children joy, Lloyd most of all. Before she fully roused herself for a cup of coffee, she heard the familiar steps running up to her door, then a swift knocking.

“Genis!” Lloyd’s voice could travel through stone, unhindered, and still as clear as the sky. “Hey!”

Her little brother grumbled from his bed, silver hair in a tangle. She watched silently as he patted it down around his pointed ears – only enough to give his ears their shape if not their details. But few eyes were sharp around here, especially when a high priestess of the Church already gave her word that full-blooded elves would be joining their village. Only truth came from the Church of Martel and nothing but.

After an exchange of shouts between Lloyd and Genis, her brother finally opened the door. An excited human boy – almost as tall as she was – was shifting on his feet in excitement. The red jacket he wore was too blinding for her to deal with this morning. “Come on, already! We have to get to the beach before the day’s over!”

“Lloyd, I wish you would wake up this early for school,” Raine said, knowing such words would fall on deaf ears. Besides, Genis would do enough reprimanding in her place.

“It’s seven in the morning! We have plenty of time. And I need to prepare the sandwiches!”

“Yeah, but we gotta get the best seashells before someone takes them! I promised Colette I’d make her bracelet from the best ones down there!”

Genis shook his head. “I think she’ll like anything you find her from the beach. You could even get her some seaweed and she’d still think it was amazing.” Both continued teasing each other back and forth, silent on the fact that Colette could not join them past the village’s perimeters.

Raine knew as well, and only looked on as both her brother and his best friend left their home to enjoy their day.

I have been here too long.

She curled a lock of hair from her face, placing it behind her sharply-pointed ears – only blunt when you looked past, and when you didn’t trust the words of another.

It was too late. She had already made friends here, perhaps a family if she ever dared, yet that was a fragile concept that she dared not explore.

“Colette thinks of you as a dear friend,” Phaidra once again told her, visiting the young elven woman now aged at 23. Eight years she had stayed, longer than she ever meant to. “And as her friend, I must ask of you a favor.”

Raine set her mug back on the breakfast table. Graded papers met her eyes from the same place, the red marks on them a familiar pattern.

It had taken so long of her to find such friends. How cruel it truly was for her to lose one of them so soon.

[umbry-fic]

Sakura Tattoo

Summary: It starts with a petal in his palm, and ends with an understanding between two hearts.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving Relationships: Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving Rating: G Word Count: 5514 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 05/01/2022

Notes+Warnings: First fic of 2022! Title from Pinocchio-p and Hihumi's Sakura Tattoo.

This features demiromantic Colette, in the case where she never falls romantically in love with Lloyd, but is very much platonically in love with him. The version of Hanahaki I use here is non-lethal - it never kills a person, and it is perfectly capable of going away on its own through either distance, falling out of love, or accepting that the other person doesn't return your romantic feelings.

This ends with an unlabelled relationship where the romantic love is one-sided but both sides are okay with that. Please note that this might not be your cup of tea.

~~~

I.

It was exceedingly easy, to fall in love with someone like Colette. A girl who possessed a heart big enough to encompass the world, absolutely overflowing with kindness that never faltered, not even when others slapped away the helping hand she offered.

It was something Lloyd only realised when he stumbled on the edge of the pit dug into the ground right before his feet, too late to skirt around it. Only able to fall headfirst into it with his arms held up over his face, hoping they would shield him from the impact.

How simple it was, to fall in love with all of her.

With her smile, that stretched across her whole face and made a single dimple appear on her right cheek, never failing to make her eyes light up. A smile so bright that it could act as a lantern in the darkest of storms, guiding one towards salvation.

With her hair, like melted gold, soft under his hands. His favourite pastime letting the strands fall through his fingers as she slept, her head pillowed in his lap and a dreamy smile playing on her lips.

With the sound of her voice, like a gentle but playful breeze against his ears, that he believed could soothe even the most bruised of hearts. What he most wanted to hear on bad days, as he could always count on it to wash away the sadness, closing his eyes and losing himself in the rise and fall of her voice.

With the colour of her eyes, a soulful blue, the same shade as the periwinkle flowers that bloomed plentifully in her Grandmother’s garden.

Her favourite flower, she’d explained once, the two of them feeling the rough surface of the leaves of the new batch that Phaidra had just planted, sunlight dappling on the petals and falling warm on their skin.

He might have always been in love with her.

Ever since the day he’d first met her, on the bank of the river that leisurely snaked by his home. A lonely girl with sad eyes, hands clasped behind her back, gaze fixed on the forest and yet seeing nothing. The seed of love planted long ago, when he’d found himself inexplicably drawn to her, walking up to her to ask for her name, and yearning to do something to put a smile on her face. Only for her to get startled at his sudden approach and send them both hurtling into the river, their shocked expressions melting into laughter that floated together into the sky, his heart alive with the knowledge that he had wiped what he hadn’t yet known was despair from her gaze. A seed that had been coaxed to sprout that very day, her hand acting as the incubator, securely wrapped around his as she pulled him out of the river and onto the bank, the both of them sopping wet. The first of many leaves breaking through the casing and pushing against the press of dirt, unfurling their fragile selves to taste the sweet sunlight and forming a sapling, young and needing further nourishment.

A sapling that had been slowly allowed to grow throughout the whole of his childhood, constantly inching upwards and becoming ever taller. Receiving water on the days where they had padded barefoot through the flower fields, stopping to pick flowers and weave them into crowns that they reverently placed upon the curls of each other’s hair. A sapling that had remained strong and healthy, persevering through his silly crushes on classmates that amounted to nothing more than fleeting thoughts, fading after little more than a fortnight.

A plant that had put down its strongest roots as he’d held her trembling body in his arms, tears stinging his eyes, the truth laying sharp and bitter against his heart. Learning for the first time what it truly meant to fear losing someone, an emotion that felt almost solid, heavy in his chest. Vowing that he would never again let her shoulder burdens on her own, that he would change this world so that she could live freely as herself and no one’s puppet.

A plant upon which the first bud had finally burst into bloom. Giving rise to the solitary blue petal he held now in shaking hands, having slipped from his lips in an errant cough.

II.

On a day long before they’d set off on the fateful journey that had led to dense layers of well-crafted lies being ripped to shreds to reveal the truth of the world, Colette had entrusted him with a secret.

She’d confided in him, how she was afraid she couldn’t love as everyone else could. That she must be no better than a heartless monster, masquerading as a smiling angel with a heart of gold. For who didn’t fall in love at least once, who didn’t love someone in this world?

Huddled close against him, like she’d been trying to fold herself into him. Fingers curled in his shirt, so tightly that he had been able to feel her fingernails grazing his skin, even through the layer of fabric. As if afraid that if she let go for even one second, that she would be shoved away, her heart decried as hideous and twisted, as she thought she deserved.

He would never do that. Not in a million years.

So he had held her closer, squeezing tight, praying that she would understand that he wasn’t spitting out trite words. Whispering in her ear that she wasn’t broken, that she was just as much of a person as him, or Genis, or anyone in this wide, wide world. It wasn’t anyone’s place to judge who was worthy - and wasn’t existing in this world good enough?

Her heart had fluttered against his chest. Like a bird struggling to stay in the air, but continuing to flap its wings anyway, even if it was futile.

Kicking to stay alive, and telling of a will to live.

III.

He knew exactly what was afflicting him. Hanahaki wasn’t widespread, but it wasn’t uncommon - there’d been another boy, back in Iselia, who’d had the same affliction. He’d started coughing up petunia petals in the middle of class, and Professor Raine had rushed him out as all the other students, him included, had looked on in a mixture of horror and fascination. That boy had ended up separated from the target of his affections for half of a year, both to ease his pain and in hopes that the feelings would die down to the point that the flowers would stop altogether. It had been successful, because everybody went on with their lives afterwards as if nothing had ever happened.

Lloyd wasn’t stupid enough to think that the petals he was starting to hack up could be a sign of anything else.

He also knew that he could never let the truth slip.

For how cruel would it be, to tell Colette that she was no lesser for being unable to love in a certain way, and then reveal that it was precisely because she couldn’t, that he was tormented with flowers that flooded his lungs?

So he hid it, to the best of his ability. Whenever the itch - or rather, the feeling that something was crawling up his throat, digging its claws into the sides - started, he would find some excuse to scramble away from her. To find an abandoned clearing and cough up the petals, now having become full flowers, staring mockingly back at him from the palm of his hand. Periwinkle. Her favourite flower, and the colour of her eyes.

Leaving behind a trail of damning blue, like a never-ending river that would one day grab him by the ankles and submerge him to drown.

It stung, the brush of leaves against the side of his lungs every time she laughed, but he said nothing. He constantly brushed away Colette’s concern on his frequent throat clearing, claiming he had a cold. He knew this couldn’t last long, even as he plastered a smile on his face and ate dinner, swallowing down the food and tasting nothing but the sickly sweetness of petals. The cracks were already beginning to show - he was running out of excuses, and a charade couldn’t be kept up forever. Not when he desperately wanted to spill the truth, for keeping something from her, especially this, made him the worst of hypocrites.

But he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth and utter the simple words, because he knew what her reaction would be, could already picture it.

It might be selfish, but he didn’t want to lose what they had now. Didn’t want this journey they were on, with just the two of them, to end so quickly. The nights spent together, falling asleep with their limbs entangled. Waking up to her hair in his face, her sleepy eyes already blinking away at him. Exploring the world, one inch at a time and witnessing all that it had to offer, as they collected the last remaining Exspheres.

And perhaps, so did… The tiny hope was tucked away in the depths of his mind, for it would not do to put expectations on Colette.

He didn’t miss her sharpened gaze, digging into his back as he made another shaky excuse and vacated their campsite for the night, leaving her to sit, alone, by the dying flames of the campfire.

IV.

She found out anyway, that very night. Because of course she would. It was nearly impossible, to keep a secret in front of a girl who had hidden things her whole life, who had become a master of the trade and knew every trick in the book like the back of her hand.

The snap of twigs behind him, jarringly loud against the backdrop of chirping insects, was what tipped him off, turning him away from the mess of blue on the forest floor, sparsely dotted with garish red. The last of the petals slipping between his fingers and cascading down, dread rising in his heart at what he would see.

And it was so much worse than anything he could ever have imagined.

Colette hovered beside a tree, her already fragile expression crumbling, like a piece of paper being crushed in hand. Maybe it could be saved, could be unfolded with careful fingers and desperately smoothed over again and again, but the damage was already done.

She had likely already suspected the truth. Colette wasn’t stupid. She might be only marginally better than him in the classroom, but in regards to people, to the heart, she could see more than most. And she had said nothing, patiently playing along. Perhaps in hopes that he would tell her someday, until it became far too much to ignore. Or perhaps in hopes that she would be proven wrong, that her worst fear hadn’t come true. That she was hurting him, in some way, just because of who she was and her choice to come with him.

But even as tears filled her eyes, her hands trembling and curling into fists, there’s a set to her mouth that spoke of determination. The same determination that had driven her to hide her fate from everyone around her, to walk alone towards death’s door, burying her own emotions.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he had shot across the distance separating them, fingers wrapping around her wrist and holding her in place. The ugly shadow that was fear and guilt surging in his chest, wrapping around his throat and choking him just as much as the petals that had come to life from just her proximity alone.

It was his turn to be terrified, to fear that if he let go and took his eyes off her for even one second, she would take off and forever disappear from his life.

Because she would. They both knew that distance was something that would help ease the pressure in his lungs, that could stop it for good, if he was really lucky. And if it meant he would be spared some suffering, she would do anything. That was just the sort of person she was, willing to sacrifice herself.

But surely, that wasn’t what she…

“Stay,” he managed to get out, pleading with her with that one simple word, even when he knew he didn’t deserve that measly right. Breath rushing in and out of him in quick bursts, her arm trembling in his grasp with unsung emotion, her back still facing him.

Just until he could explain. Please.

If at this very moment, she wrenched her hand away and fled into the darkness, stretching out from the starless sky and eking from the spaces between the branches of the imposing trees surrounding them, he would let her.

But, granting him a miracle, she took a shuddering breath and dipped her head - barely enough to count as a nod, but enough to tell him that he still had the chance to fix things.

To put things back together with shaking hands, and hope that one day, the cracks could be healed.

V.

The trip back to the long-dead campfire was silent, the air so tense that not even his swords would be able to make headway. He spent the seconds counting the branches they passed, that Colette had to shove away, so forcefully that they broke, falling to the ground to be trampled upon. All the while keeping his gaze fixedly away from her face, attempting to organise his thoughts into neat rows and only succeeding in further intensifying the howling whirlwind in his mind.

When he finally took a seat, Colette didn’t take her place next to him like she usually did, in a position close enough to rest her head on his shoulder and drift off into peaceful dreamland. She gave him a wide berth instead, standing frozen on the opposite end of the logs before shakily lowering herself down, looking like tipping just a bit to one side would make her topple over and shatter on the ground like ceramic. Almost as if she thought her very presence would be like needles, piercing his heart.

He was the first to talk, taking a deep breath and adding his voice to the rustle of critters in the undergrowth, gaze dropping to his hands, resting in his lap. Before she could bow her head and let a litany of apologies leave her lips, blaming herself for everything. It was the easiest thing to do - a girl who couldn’t fall in love was such a simple scapegoat.

And it wouldn’t be right. Not at all.

So he talked. And talked. A stream of words that left his mouth, winding on and on, spinning a complicated tale of regret, of guilt and love and messy mistakes, all the different threads tangling together to form this very moment, the culmination of everything.

Of when the first petal had appeared, right after they had gotten home to Iselia, still euphoric about the worlds being reunited, yet carrying the grief of Mithos’ death. Of how much he treasured the time they had together, and wanted it to continue.

About what he felt for her - an endless supply of love that she didn’t need to accept, that she didn’t need to do anything with. She could choose to set it aside and never touch it again, if she so desired. Love was no one's responsibility, and no one’s fault. It was nothing more than another emotion, and a fickle beast, at that. Equally likely to cause wondrous miracles, as it was to cruelly twist and shatter hearts, stomping on them and grinding them into dust.

It felt like coughing up a particularly bad batch of flowers. But while that would provide him with a split second of relief before the pressure reinstated itself, never leaving him alone, this felt truly freeing. The burden of a secret scattering into starlight, disappearing into the night.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, vision blurry and cheeks wet, tears dripping onto his palms. “None of this is your fault. It’s mine. I should have told you at the start. This wasn’t a choice for me to make alone. I just… I told myself I was protecting you from any pain, but I was only protecting myself.”

He glanced up, finally, prepared to face whatever he would find. It was the least he could do.

The tears glistening in her eyes had spilt over, streaming down her cheeks like the glimmering trails of a shooting star, bright in the night, a hesitant smile on her face. She’d shifted closer - still not as close as she used to be - but closer.

Close enough to ignite hope.

“I was afraid of losing you, and I hurt you. I’m so sorry. But… I think both of us don’t want this to end.” Her hand reached for his, intertwining their fingers. “So if you’re willing to forgive me, and if you’re willing to try with me…”

She brushed a petal away from the corner of his lips, putting the pieces of his heart back together. “We can try. Together.”

VI.

Five years after he and Colette had first set out with the intention to collect all the Exspheres, they scooped up the last of the glowing spheres, pulsing with the faint glow of the souls within and the final hopes and dreams they had held, deep in the depths of a gloomy, abandoned mine. Afterwards, it was a long journey back to Iselia, where they were welcomed back with a rib-crushing hug from Dirk that smushed the two of them together in his arms. They settled down, then, in a house just for the two of them, content to relax in each other’s company after so many years of excitement.

It felt like no time had passed at all, since she was sixteen and he was seventeen, falling asleep in the schoolhouse after a particularly gruelling remedial session, only to be given a rude awakening when Professor Raine came to shoo them home. All of their memories together were engraved into the very surface of their hometown, shifting and coming to the surface with each day that passed, each step they danced, in this breathing town stuffed to the brim with life.

Yet at the same time, it felt like an eternity had gone by, and nothing was the same. They had both changed - Colette held herself taller, shoulders no longer hunched, back carrying much less weight. He’d been told, multiple times by both Colette and Dad, both with fond smiles, that he’d grown into himself, and also mellowed out quite a bit.

It’d been five years of learning, of feeling out boundaries. Of learning what was alright, and when. Of awkwardly stumbling and figuring out what worked. Colette no longer held herself back from touching him: poking him in the side and eliciting an annoyed squeak from him; throwing her arms around him and giggling into his shoulder; kissing him on the cheek and grinning at him, before stealing his cup of coffee and running away, leading him to give chase, their laughter filling the air. A chase that would lead them into the garden they had cultivated with their own hands, their bare feet against the dirt, still wet from summer's rain, until she fell into his arms, breathless, the coffee long forgotten.

It was a reflection of their first return to Iselia, yet much better. For they now had the shared knowledge of what they were, no longer timid children shyly reaching out for the other’s hand, only to snap their own back at the last second, too afraid to talk about the turbulent emotions they kept protected with lock and key. Or, he supposed, the shared knowledge of what they… weren’t? It wasn’t like they’d ever bothered to put a name to what they were. They only knew what they each felt for the other, and that they wanted to stay close to the other. They’d both agreed that there wasn’t much point wasting energy trying to figure out the minute details. Not when they were happy with what they had.

It had also been, at least for him, five years of acceptance. He wasn’t fully there yet, but he would be, one day, was pushing himself to be. Both for Colette’s sake, and his own.

Hanahaki wasn't about punishment, or suffering, or the assigning of blame. Some people made it out to be that way - they shook their fists at the Heavens, refusing to accept that their affections weren't returned. And so they had to live, with stems squeezing around their lungs and strangling them. Tattooing their bitterness onto their hearts in the form of flowers, equally thriving and languishing in a sea of spite.

No. Hanahaki was about acceptance. About moving on. About learning to live with a love that wasn't returned, because that was just part and parcel of life.

There was a small voice in the back of his mind, screaming that, if he loved her so much - so much that it sometimes felt like he was dying from a lack of air and a flame that would reduce his insides to ashes - that she should love him back. But it was quiet, overshadowed by the warmth of love and the happiness that came from just being by her side. And when he went to dig, he found no bitterness there. Only a little pain. Pain that he could get over, as he began to pay more attention to all the ways she showed her love.

It wasn’t in showy actions, like flashy anniversaries or expensive gifts. Colette was the first to admit that her memory could be pretty terrible, and she never ended up remembering dates in the first place.

It was in the small things, that one could take for granted if they didn’t pay attention.

It was how, when she woke up, her hand would first jump to the hollow of her throat, curling around the birthday present he had gifted her for her sixteenth birthday, having hung around her neck all this time. A gentle smile never failing to grace her lips when she found it was still there, like that alone could make her whole day.

It was how, when they met up with their friends to catch up, she could recount the times she had spent with him, down to the smallest of details, her memory perfect when it came to moments she deemed precious and held close to her heart.

It was how she knew when the flowers were worst - the mornings, right after waking up, a whole night's worth of them lodged in his throat. How she rubbed circles in his back as he hacked them up into the bowl she always had ready on the nightstand, her comforting voice whispering assurances in his ears. Always patient with him when she helped clean them up, never complaining even when he coughed drops of blood onto the front of her nightgown, keeping his mind away from the stray blue littering the floor as she talked to him. She was the one who brushed away the tears that leaked from his eyes and calmed his sobs when he apologised for putting this burden on her, just as he did when she clung to him and said that she was sorry for being unable to love him, their guilt for things they couldn’t control becoming too much sometimes, awakening as an unruly monster. Two people holding mismatched parts that somehow came together perfectly, quieting the monster and sending it back into slumber.

It came in the form of all the compromises she made for him, even when he protested. How she avoided planting periwinkle in the garden, knowing just gazing at them worsened the itch in his throat.

It was her, all of her, because she was filled from head to toe with love, squeezing out of her with every word, every action. Even if it wasn’t the same love that he felt, she loved him just as much as he did, with all of her soul.

And it calmed the frenzy of flowers, giving him hope that one day, he could see her smile without a flurry of petals hiding it. Lessening the ache in his chest, until it was nothing more than an echo that stopped him in his tracks sometimes, with the ghost of petals against his lips.

VII.

It took Colette another two years, of hugs in the morning and kisses on the forehead at night, of winter melting into spring into summer into autumn, of him shaking her by the shoulders to wake her up when she fell asleep at the desk so that he could bring her to bed, to say that she loved him, with conviction behind her voice.

She’d tried, once, a mere two weeks after he’d finally told her about the flowers in his lungs. But he’d seen the uncertain wobble to her gaze, and stopped her. Telling her not to say it until she could truly believe in what she felt, the world having long beaten into her the message that what she felt meant nothing. She didn’t owe him anything, and she certainly didn’t have to say it just as a last-ditch attempt to cure him of his affliction. That was besmirching her own feelings.

It was on a day like any other, heavy rain having driven them inside to retire earlier than usual. He sat on the couch, idly watching the flames lick at the solitary log in the fireplace, flickering red and orange, the rhythmic pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows making his eyelids droop. Colette was reading a book, leaning against the other end of the couch, feet propped in his lap.

The words he hadn’t been expecting to hear cut through the silence, like a glimmer of light in a cave drenched in darkness. Barely a whisper, yet resolute and unwavering.

He glanced over, wondering if he’d just imagined it, if he’d dreamed it in his sleep. But there she was, smiling shyly over the cover of her book, blue eyes filled with warmth that seemed to seep into him, displacing the flowers in her chest.

Not enough to get rid of them, no. The world would always say it wasn’t enough.

But it was enough for him, more than enough, as he leaned over to press a kiss to her hair.

And, really, that was all that mattered.

VIII.

It’s another deceptively ordinary day, the sun providing light to the world, when his life changed again.

He stepped foot into their garden, having just returned from a trip to town to get a new pack of seeds. To prepare for when spring rolled around again with the most colourful of flowers, as Colette liked. They’d spend the next week planting all of them - painstakingly placing the seeds into hand-dug pits, before filling them up again.

The kind lady who manned the cashier at the gardening shop had been more than eager to chat with him as he’d passed over the necessary coin. She liked to chat with anyone, asking about anything and everything.

The villagers all knew about their situation. They’d certainly found it strange at first, and Colette had gotten the side-eye from quite a few of them for a while, even though most of them had watched her grow up and knew she wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose. He’d bristled at that, but she’d patted his arm with a gentle hand and told him it was alright. They’d never be able to change the world’s perception. To a person who didn’t even know her face, she would surely be the villain in their story, playing the role to perfection, and there was no stopping others from painting her in that way. His acceptance was all that she needed, she’d said with a sunny smile, and he’d drawn her into an embrace.

Everyone had long since gotten used to them. Or, if they had anything to say, they kept it to themselves, at the very least.

“Lloyd.”

Colette was waiting for him, standing by the sunflowers with her hands clasped behind her back, a familiar twinkle in her eye that told him she knew something he didn’t.

“What?” he asked, playing along. It was always fun, these little games of theirs.

“You still haven’t noticed it yet?” The corner of her lip was twitching, like she’s trying her very hardest to hold back laughter, her gaze dropping to the packet of seeds in his hand before racing back up to his face. “Let me ask you, then. What seeds did you get?”

“What, these?” He waved the packet in the air, frowning and squinting at the packaging as if the meaning to life, or the secret to the universe was hidden in the blocky letters printed onto the front. What could she be on about? “Periwinkle. Your favourite -”

The realisation struck him then, like a bolt of lightning. The packet dropped from his hands, falling into the grass, the individual blades still carrying round droplets of dew from the morning condensation. He’d bought the packet, had chatted with the shopkeeper about what he and Colette would be having for dinner, without even noticing. Or perhaps, not caring at all, the heavy meaning of what he carried carelessly in his palm, of what it had represented to him for years.

That’s what had been missing for the past few weeks. That’s why he’d felt lighter than he had in years. He’d forgotten what it felt like, to breathe air and feel it cleanly settle in his lungs, instead of fighting for space with fierce leaves and blooming flowers.

Colette only smiled at him. She, who always woke up slightly before him to get ready to help him with his morning batch, must have known all this time. She would have been the first to notice, and had only been waiting for him to catch up.

“I love you,” he choked out the words, having never known what it felt like to say them without the press of a petal to his lips, scattering to the ground. So he relished the sensation, drawing her into his arms and letting the tears of happiness spillover, lost in her hair. “I love you so much.”

“I know,” she whispered back, wrapping her arms around his midriff and burying her face in his chest. “I love you too.”

IX.

They spent one thankfully cool afternoon planting the seeds, flinging dirt at each other until they’re both giggling and filthy. The dirt was so deeply trapped under his nails that it didn't leave until a full week later, after many a shower and intense scrubbing with soap.

When spring arrived in all its glory, bringing with it playful butterflies and the scent of blooming flowers, carried on a warm breeze, the buds on the periwinkle vines burst open. A deep blue against green, heads facing the sun that brought them life, swaying sometimes in the breeze.

He squatted down by the row of creeping vines and picked the flowers with delicate fingers, gently snapping the stems. They piled up beside him, a soft blue mountain.

When Colette returned from the market, she didn’t question the flowers, scattered across the dining table. She didn’t say a word, when he directed her to sit on the stool. Only laughed, the same kind sound that seemed to resonate in his chest, that he first fell in love with. Because she had always believed in him, even when he didn’t think he deserved her steadfast trust.

With hands that trembled, he slowly twined the fragile remnants of stems around locks of hair that he gathered in hand. Seeding blue amongst vibrant gold, the same colour as her eyes, that had watched over him for as long as he’d known.

“How do I look?” she whispered, clasping her hands before her chest and staring at him hopefully, her hair now pulled into a neat fishtail braid that fell down her shoulder, flowers threaded into the golden strands.

“Beautiful,” he muttered without hesitation, staring at her with reverence.

She flushed, dipping her gaze, because some things just never changed.

“Like a Goddess,” he continued, a grin starting to grow on his face as her blush deepened. It was ever so fun to fluster her.

“Lloyd!” she protested as he continued. When he moved on to his tenth compliment, she buried her whole face in the crook of his neck, the curve of her smile warm against his skin.

As he ran a hand through her hair, feeling the soft edges of petals bend under his fingertips, he thought to himself that the long journey that they’d taken to get here, full of twists and turns, interrupted by pitfalls to clamber out of and mountains to scale, had all been worth it.

After all, there’s no other place he’d rather be.

~End~

[darkhymns-fic]

“Welcome back.”

With Lloyd, Colette had never felt more at home.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel, Zelos Wilder, Phaidra Brunel Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: Written for Colloyd Week, Day 7: Free day! And yep, this is a day early because quote day fic isn’t finished just yet. But this is also about a quote so it fits the theme still?

--

Colette had always been searching for a place to belong to.

When she first met Lloyd, it had been by chance. She didn’t meet him on his first day of school, when he had already been fifteen minutes late, earning a frown from the new professor but forgiven when he explained how far he traveled just to get here. It had not even been on one of the few trips that Lloyd had gone along with Dirk to Iselia, the dwarf picking up supplies to fill up their food pantries, and any extra seeds and tools for the vegetable garden he was just starting. On the former, she had been away at the Church for her routine lessons, and on the latter, she was always at home, the language of the angels swimming in her head as she devoutly read the scriptures from heavy tomes.

When she was already receiving her lessons as the Chosen, they only told her about her fate once she turned six – all with fanciful words of how she would take her place in heaven with the goddess and rest peacefully. But even back then, she understood the meaning of it.

So one day, with that knowledge deeply part of her, Colette had to leave her room, her house, and the books far away, so that she could breathe. She left in the middle of the day, thinking only to go as she snuck through the front gate to the forests surrounding Iselia, all before they would implement guards to prevent such a thing from happening again. She walked and walked, until the brush at her feet grew darker and the trees closed in, until the light dirt pathway slowly started to vanish.

She walked until she couldn’t anymore, the sun all but blocked out from the thick boughs overhead. There was no more path to lead her anywhere, the entire floor overtaken by snaking roots and shrubbery. The air felt cold around her. The shadows stretched wide, making the woods feel like early evening when it was still in the middle of the afternoon.

Or had she really lost track of time?

She stumbled over a stump – or it could have simply been a pebble, or only air. But she fell onto her knees, her hands clutching the grass between her fingers, thinking over and over the words that the priest had left her. And her grandmother, trying to soften the blow, with peaceful hands that stroked through her hair, but not denying the truth of what it all meant.

“Chosen, you will be like a friend to the world. And once you grow older, you will have to leave, but that is what happens to all of us,” Phaidra had tried to soothe, an old scripture book still laid at her knee along with Colette’s head. “It will just be a little sooner than most…”

She felt a hand take her own – but it wasn’t familiar, and it fit inside her own like a puzzle piece.

Colette blinked. She saw that she was on her feet again, grass stains on her bare knees, and on the sleeves of her dress. And right in front of her was a boy, his hair sticking up in wild ways, his eyes blinking along with her own. In a red shirt and suspenders that held up dark shorts, she wondered if this was someone from school that she couldn’t seem to recognize yet.

“Hey! Where were you going? It’s dangerous down this way!” The boy’s palm was just against her own, a little damp, scuffed with dirt. She realized why that was so.

“Oh! But my hands are dirty…” she could only trail out, still feeling a bit light-headed. Hadn’t she left her grandmother in the kitchen, and then had gone out the back door? What would she think…?

The boy tilted his head, the motion of it catching her attention. It reminded her of the neighborhood dog that she always wanted to pet whenever she saw it. “Are you okay? You were walking by yourself and being really quiet…”

She saw in his other hand that he held what looked like a long stick. The end of it was freshly snapped, like a jagged point of a knife. He tapped it against the ground, keeping in an even tempo.

“Ah? Where… am I?” Colette arced her head to look around her, but the trees looked unfamiliar, and she could hear the rapid flow of a river nearby. But this wasn’t anything like the small glades that were in Iselia. “Who are you?”

Another blink, and there was something about his eyes. Full and matching the shade of the tree bark, yet catching the light of the sunshine. They were in a sunny place now, the previous shadows from her wandering gone.

“You should tell people your name first before asking theirs, you know!” The boy huffed, but then looked embarrassed right away. “I mean…I guess I did just come up to you. I’m Lloyd! I live here. Well, near here. Not this place though. There’s a lot of mean wolves around.”

And still, Lloyd hadn’t let go of her hand. He was gently leading her away from the darker part of the forests, back out into the light with the pathway, with the flowers that lined parts of a nearby field, white petals drifting in the breeze. And on that same pathway, she saw what looked to be the largest dog in the world.

Colette had almost forgotten to say anything, still dazzled by sights out from the shadows, by the dog that looked so fluffy to the touch, wondering what it would be like to dig her hands through the fur – and by the boy next to her, his eyes still catching that light.

“I’m…Colette. I’m the…” She paused, and suddenly the title that she had always known felt deeply heavy in her chest. She couldn’t finish.

“The…girl that got lost?” Lloyd finished for her, grinning wide then. “You’re silly! I was playing with Noishe when I saw you. You shouldn’t wander off! Or, that’s what my dad says.”

The dog named Noishe padded up to her, ears drooped low, sniffing at her curiously. She reached out to pet it, and the warmth she felt from scratching the dog’s head was the same as Lloyd’s hand in hers.

“I was lost,” she admitted, but the smile touched her lips easily, feeling refreshed. “But then you found me.”

And since then, it was hard for Colette to forget the shape of his grin, the touch of red on his cheeks. From playing? From the sun shining down on them both? Or because their hands stayed together? She remembered how much she didn’t want to grow up then, even more than before.

“Well, it’s good I found you,” Lloyd admitted. He was leading her and Noishe up a hill, past the rushing river, and soon she could see the shape of something in the distance. A house? Right in the middle of the woods, almost as if out of a fairytale…. “But I don’t know how to get you back home…”

Colette looked at the house as they moved closer; the weather vane in the shape of a rooster on top of its roof, the wooden shed to the right, the multitudes of potted plants that lay near the front door. She pointed at it suddenly. “There,” she said with full conviction. “I live there.”

“Huh?” Lloyd blinked, back to her then back to the house that looked so far off from everything she had known. “You do?”

“Well…today I live there. Maybe not tomorrow.” Colette scuffed her shoes against the dirt, excitement running through her chest, like the rush she had felt when she ran through the woods with complete abandon. But different this time, because she knew where to go. “Is that okay?”

Maybe another boy would have found her strange, or weird to suggest such a thing. But Lloyd only laughed, and excitedly pulled her along the makeshift bridge across the river.

No one had ever accepted her so easily.

“Sure it is!” Lloyd said, his happiness beaming out from the eyes that she couldn’t look away from. “So… welcome back, Colette!”

--

In the Church, the priests taught her the language of the Angels; an ancient script that only those of the cloth and the Chosen they watched over would be able to decipher. They taught her to memorize the landmarks of the journey that she would travel to, the names of ancient heroes that conversed with goddesses and how she would one day be as close to such figures when the time came. They taught her to watch and listen from a distance.

But Lloyd taught her to use her hands.

When Lloyd had first come to Iselia, she’d see the way his fingers would tap on the desk, (and ever since they first met, he’d always choose the desk closest to her – as long as he wasn’t late) starting off light, then faster, louder until the Professor would shush him across the room. But his hands wouldn’t stop moving then. Instead, they’d take something else, like the pencil he’d been chewing on, or the small little carving knife he always liked to carry around. Sometimes he’d draw lines on the paper, or carve them onto the wood.

And no matter what, he’d always show her what he made.

“That’s dad,” he’d point out to her, tracing the jagged edges of a beard, sprouting so wildly from a circle that was his father’s face. “You remember him, right? He’s really big!” And of course she did, recalling the adult with thick arms and a heavy beard, the way his laughter boomed inside the home when he first met her then. He hadn’t minded that she wanted their home for her own, at least for that one day.

Then Lloyd would draw a shape that she was familiar with, a furry creature standing on four legs, standing a head above the sketchy scribble that was Lloyd’s father. Scritch scritch came the sounds of Lloyd’s pencil on paper, his tongue just sneaking past his lips in concentration.

“I can’t draw at all,” she said, fingers curling around her dress, all as she kept scooting closer to Lloyd to see his work better.

“Huh? How come?” He sounded so curious. And though she still only knew Lloyd for a little bit, she didn’t think he was teasing her about it.

“Ah, it’s not really something meant for me?” It was the best way she could explain it. Why would a Chosen need to learn to draw?

“But you want to, right?”

“Well…”

Lloyd’s hands, even back then, had dwarfed her own. She felt the calluses against his palm as held her wrists gently, the lightness of his fingers as they seemed to dance over her knuckles, adjusting the shape of her hand. The pencil he gave her slipped easily into her grip.

“Just copy mine here. Try drawing Noishe!” He grinned at her, all teeth and stretching his cheeks that she thought she could see dimples. It made her stare, fascinated, and how this was something no one had told her about at all.

With his hands guiding her, she learned to draw for the very first time. It wasn’t anything particularly amazing, and her own doggy was lop-sided, complete with uneven ears and an oversized tongue. She had tried to capture the likeness of Noishe on that first day she had seen him standing beside Lloyd, on how the light made the green of his fur that much brighter, like the fields that surrounded Iselia.

Yet even as she saw the stark difference between her and Lloyd’s, his voice thrummed next to her in pride. “See? You can draw just fine!”

“Lloyd! Are you bothering people now?”

Raine’s voice was sudden, and with that, Lloyd had to let her go. The warmth of his hands left, even though she could remember the shape of it.

But still he smiled at her, inclining his head just a bit until so that only Colette could see. Only for her.

When she would go back home, she would try to practice drawing too, all within the margins of her own scripture books; little butterflies and happy dogs, and the wide-eyed smile of someone that filled her head during the day.

Her heart felt so, so full.

--

It was only natural for people to leave their home, to leave their friends behind.

Colette was just doing it sooner than most.

Outside, as the floorboards of the balcony creaked underneath them both, she went over the lie in her head, turning it over like a fine piece of jewelry. In the dark, she could hide away any small tells, any moments that Lloyd would catch her in.

She had to try not to laugh, because how easy it was to just let it free, a small giggle filled with every worry and fear in its waves.

“You know, this will be the first time we ever go somewhere that’s not just in Iselia.” Lloyd leaned back against the railing, his smile lighting something within her that it was almost too painful. But she took it as something good, something she would remember once she was on the last leg of her journey and… “We’ll get to see the whole world together!”

A world where she could be so easily lost, maybe forgotten. But she should want that for him, at least. “That’s what you always wanted to do, isn’t it?” she asked him, remembering the little dreams he’d tell her she’d ride on Noishe, his hand over her own to keep her steady, fingers entwining through green fur. “I think in a regenerated world, you can finally do that even more.”

The moonlight caught his eyes, and already she wanted to go and embrace him. But wouldn't she just trip right into the wood, with his hands reaching to keep her balanced? “Yeah. Maybe after the world’s regenerated, we can go on another trip together too. How about it?” He said it so casually, as if such dreams were not nearly as impossible as touching the stars in the sky. “But maybe once you become an angel, we can go back home for a little while. Is that okay?”

It was childish for her to wish for anything different.

In her heart, she brought with her the scent of oak as she left with Raine and Kratos in the early morning, the remembered texture of finely polished wood when she had leaned on the railing with Lloyd, looking up at the stars. And she kept the shape of his smile, lit up by the moon, tracing it over and over in her head.

Even if she had to lose a friend, she could keep parts of it, couldn’t she? These small memories that kept her mind afloat as she walked further away from home.

And when Lloyd lived in the new world, maybe, if he wanted to, he could do the same for her.

If he wanted to.

--

For a while, after Remiel called her forth and she felt her heart shatter in her chest, Colette had been adrift.

She knew of death, but she didn’t know how it would be for her. Would it be like the shutting of a door, cutting off light for her and leaving her in the dark? Or would it be like going to sleep, stuck in dreamlessness, never on the verge of waking up again?

Instead it was like she was floating out to sea, half-blind, with no compass to point out her way, and no sail to take her home. And through it all, she was left with the imprints of memories she had trouble placing.

She remembered the shape of the temple she would pray at, the scent of the tea her grandmother would make for her, the sad smile her father would sometimes have… and Lloyd, his hand in her own.

The longer she was away, the more she was beginning to forget.

Colette drifted as voices danced around her, half-remembering who they were, until she would forget again. Sometimes, she would still feel a hand inside her own, yet find nothing there.

And other times, she would see shadows out in the distance. The faces of friends she knew, and friends she didn’t yet. It was strange to see the new among the familiar, but in all of that, she could still see Lloyd, a passing ship that she tried to call out to. But, he couldn’t hear.

Or did he not want to hear her?

In all her drifting, she felt alone. And the fear that came when Remiel took away the last remaining thread of her humanity was her only companion.

There’s nowhere for you to go.

Colette tried to grip back the hand she could still feel. But it wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been. Even if she sometimes saw his face.

Lloyd will grow up. He will go away, the fear inside her said, continued to say. And you want to keep him locked in place?

When Sheena had spoken to him back in Sylvarant, he had smiled and laughed. She saw that now, in passing, like quick flashes of light. When a man with brilliant red hair had half-embraced Lloyd, he had grumbled but didn’t push him away. When a girl with eyes so familiar spoke, Lloyd would always turn to her.

She didn’t want him to keep from meeting these new people, new friends.

But then, what of her home?

Nowhere to go.

For a time, she stayed out in that nameless ocean, drifting and drifting, slowly losing her way. It was hard to look out for any familiar light through the darkness, easier to try and sleep. Still, she thought she felt that hand, the same hand that had brought her up to his house with no hesitation. But isn’t he gone? the fear in her kept asking. Why would he stay behind for you?

It was difficult to not be selfish.

“So that I could have a home to go back to.”

In that ocean of darkness and fading memories, she felt the hand there, remembered how it held the broken pieces of something precious. She would have accepted it as it was, kept it locked within her grip that she wouldn’t even give way to the angels. And once, when light flooded her senses, when she felt such a force try to take away a precious gift, she was able to keep that promise to herself.

Faces that she knew and didn’t know, all of it so much that she couldn’t even stay standing. But there was solid ground, and there was a hand to bring her back to her feet.

“Colette!” Lloyd called out, bringing her near, almost embracing her if it weren’t for the remnants of dirt on his jacket (and she could strangely recall a rigorous climb up a cliffside..) “You remember me?”

“Lloyd! Of course I do.” She felt the weight of the necklace on her, keeping her rooted, no longer adrift. “I think with this… I was able to find you.”

His smile always left her warm, left her nerves singing. “Heh, welcome back then. We missed you.”

Only did she realize just then – could a home be more than a place, but a person that lights your way?

--

There were little figurines on the stand, half of them already covered in snow.

“Are you looking for a souvenir?” spoke the salesman of the cart, decked in multiple layers, his mittened hands grasping one of the small things that had nearly drowned within the white. The finer details of its ears pressed flat against its head, the snout that made up its front, along with the embedded gems that served for its eyes – it all reminded her of something so familiar. She felt bad just getting one, and clumsily handed the gald to the salesman, carrying both charms in her shaking hands.

Was it because she was afraid? Or just so cold? The chill spread across her now unmarked skin, made her bones feel stiff, made her lungs ache from the sting of the cold air. Was she still afraid it would all go?

“They bring you luck,” the salesman had told her just before she left, his smile hidden away in the caverns of his scarf. “And we could all use a little luck nowadays.”

She wondered if she would have such luck now. She couldn’t stop shivering as she went to Zelos, asking a dear favor of him as she gave him the snow bunny to bring to Altessa. “Maybe he’d like it?” she asked of the other Chosen, wondering if he thought she sounded so childish just then. “It could go with his home, or maybe he could give it to Tabatha once she’s…”

Zelos patted her shoulder, and something in his motion felt more freeing. Maybe even relieving. “Anything for you, angel. Don’t mind doing a little delivery if it means I get to leave this place.”

“Ah, you don’t like the cold?” she asked him. But, no, she could see the smile on his face too, hear the little snicker that left his throat. “Or is it something else?”

“Don’t worry about it… but thanks for asking.” Zelos placed the bunny in his pocket, more carefully than any other gift he had ever received from a lady. “But you still got that other one, right?” He nodded to the snow bunny still clutched in her hands. “Make sure to give that guy a good home, too.”

Home has always meant something else to her, and maybe Zelos saw that too. With a wink, he left with the others on the Rheairds, and soon found herself rushing back to the inn, the cold biting her cheeks.

“Welcome back, Colette,” Lloyd had said to her, his gift hanging from her neck with a comforting weight. But in words, she heard something else too when he said that…

Or was that just wishful thinking?

Colette was all shivers as she rushed towards the inn, boots sinking into the snow, soaking them through. One charm flew across the ocean in the dark to reach a kind but grumpy dwarf, reminding her of Dirk in small ways, if not all. 

The other stayed clutched in her hands, small enough to hide away from sight. It was nothing more than a toy, a childish thing, yet it felt as nice to her as the necklace she wore. 

"Lloyd," she called out once she'd had the courage to knock on his door, to see him silhouetted against the windowpane and the snow flurries just outside. The room was doing all it could to stay warm with the heater in the corner, but she didn't mind the chill. It kept her awake as she kept asking. "Do you wanna go for a walk?"

She hated her own doubts, how much she worried for Lloyd to choose something else. But his smile to her gave her the answer, even before he spoke.

Home was warm with him.

--

“Welcome back, Colette.”

“Thanks.”

“Hmm? What’s wrong?”

“Ah well, I really like it when you say ‘welcome back.’

“Uh? Why?”

“Do you remember when you said it to me when I returned to my normal self?”

“You mean the time at Fooji Mountains.”

“Yeah. I was so happy. When you tell me, ‘welcome back,’ I really start to feel like I’m really back.”

“I see. I’ll say it at any time and as many times as you like!”

--

Colette was running late.

She had spent so long in Iselia throughout the evening. The temple where she had once endured hours of lessons and ritual was now a refuge for the orphans of fallen cities such as Palmacosta and Luin. The teachings of Martel couldn’t leave her, even after everything. She couldn’t help the prayers that fell naturally from her lips, or the soft remembrances of helping others. Many priests still made their pilgrimages, though it was now that they would stop at Iselia, to follow the once-Chosen in her charity.

But she hadn’t meant to stay so long…

In her haste, she had decided to use her wings, though only doing so once she was far enough away from the village. Easier to get past the trees and the steep cliffsides, the winding of the river that would make her circle around if she were on foot. But she could still follow it, knowing where it would eventually lead to.

She heard Noishe barking up ahead. “Ah, Noishe!” she called out, pink fluttering behind her, trailing stars as she saw the shape of the dog running across the grass – and the shape of a home she had long grown to know.

At the door, silhouetted by the firelight inside, was Lloyd. He waved both arms to her, his jacket unbuttoned and hanging loosely from his shoulders. “Colette! Welcome back!”

She hadn’t really meant to fly that much faster – already she was going at a fast pace as it was. But the sight of him made her want to fall that much quicker to the earth. Already Lloyd was there to catch her, his arms moving around to clasp her tight, feet stumbling to keep them upright.

“S-Sorry..” Colette apologized, winking in both amusement and shame. “Guess I must have tripped.”

“In the air?” Lloyd laughed, his voice traveling through her in a steady rhythm as they stayed close, one that she was beginning to know by heart. “But I can tell it was a good day for you.”

A nod, hands pressed lightly to his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. “It really was. But, I’m glad to be home again.” She stayed there, in his hold, with the crackling of the fire in the forge nearby, hearing the footpads of Noishe as he walked around outside, happy enough to sleep knowing that everyone was back home. They were only staying here for a few weeks while Dirk was away, and then they would need to go back on their journey, but…

“What is it, Colette?” he asked, his voice soothing, his words sincere. He hadn’t let up his grip.

“Do you think you could…say it again?” She could fall asleep in his arms if she let herself, and there were times that she did, never having felt safer than she did right now. “I just like hearing it.”

She felt his hand – the hand that had once pulled her out of the dark – lift her chin to kiss her. It was just one of many that he gave to her, but it left her in a sea of sweetness all the same.

“Hey, Colette,” Lloyd whispered against her hair, then kissing her forehead lightly. Even within this home, and the cold wind at her back from the still-open door, she felt his warmth over everything else. The necklace around her neck and pressing against skin, the figurine she could feel at his chest, still tucked close. All these things that made her feel like she belonged. 

“Welcome back.”