#lightswake

It’s not a good feeling, but the absence of a bad one, he realizes as he waits for the crosswalk light to change to green. He isn’t sure why he doesn’t feel bad. There’s more than enough to occupy his waking hours and haunt his sleep, with the recent experiment toying with his memories yet again and Martel’s presence just out of sight tying his stomach in knots whenever he sees her name on his phone. But for whatever reason, he simply hasn’t been thinking about it. His only real concern right now is making sure he doesn’t go overboard buying sweets for Gray at the store. 

It’s nice. Maybe nicer than he deserves, but nice all the same. 

He even finds himself humming and shifting his weight gently from side to side as he waits in line to check out. 

He makes it out of the store with only two bags. Most of them are what he came in for, even. And nothing is perishable -- when his route home takes him past a park with a small duck pond, he doesn’t have to worry about anything going bad when he decides to take a short detour to walk along the trail.

He’s almost so at peace that Mithos’s presence by the edge of the water doesn’t make him nauseous at first.

His next step falters, stopping short. 

There are three versions of Mithos in his memory, all fighting for his attention. There’s the Mithos of the Kharlan War -- determined, by no means innocent, but full of hope for the future of peace. 

There’s Lord Yggdrasill, the leader of Cruxis, who swore he would have him killed were it not for the memory of Martel, who kicked him in the ribs so that even now he feels the phantom sensation of not being able to breathe. 

Then there’s the faint ghost of the Mithos from the old city. He had... forgotten, hadn’t he? Mithos didn’t know of Yggdrasill’s crimes personally. But he experienced them. Yuan... tried to comfort him? Did he succeed?

Standing there with his bags, Yuan suddenly feels vulnerable. Visible. If Mithos hasn’t noticed him yet, he surely will now that he’s been standing mere feet away for so long.

A shudder shakes his frame as he snaps back to awareness. Too bright, too loud, too clear. 

§ Are you... §

@lightswake

He sees the child sitting on a street corner, arms wrapped around himself. A memory of last time: swords swinging, wide eyes gazing in horror, Yuan stepping in -- he won’t make that same mistake again. 

But it seems unreal; something warm blooms in his chest despite himself, but he had been trapped in an endless cycle of death for so long, his only hope being that Martel’s return would bring back the boy the former knight had thrown his old life away to follow so many centuries ago. And yet, he has seen miracles which have shaken the numbness which had become his state of being. His son is alive and well. And now, here, is a boy untainted by the pain and loss of betrayal, the anger resulting from years of trying and failing to eradicate an insidious bigotry which proved too great an enemy. 

He doesn’t make himself known immediately. Before him is a chance to create a new future despite his many old failings. He exhales and leaves his sword untouched at his side as he walks silently towards the boy.

“Hello, Mithos. I hope you have been keeping up with your training since I last saw you.”

His voice is soft, and he attempts a gentle smile (even though such a gesture feels uncomfortable and unfamiliar).

Kratos had entered the clearing, following a ringing phone, prepared to yell at Yuan (and maybe punch him). . . 

and instead encounters fate once more.

Yuan’s goddamn cloak is lying spread by a pile of ashes. And that goddamn phone is still ringing.

Kratos stomps on it viciously, breaking it into pieces.

“Yuan, yod goddamn idiot.”

He shouldn’t have walked away that time. Why did he walk away? He should have tried harder, instead, he ran away like a coward. Again. 

. . .it seems all he can do is add to his regrets.

But now he thinks he might understand why Yuan was so angry with him. Because Kratos is pissed off that Yuan went and died and left. When Kratos was the one who was leaving, it was hard—one of the hardest things he’s ever done, up there with fighting Mithos—but it’s nothing compared to this. A complete feeling of powerlessness and regret like when—

. . .when Anna died. 

“Damn it, Yuan.”

. . .what is he going to tell Mithos?

Those scientists. . . they’re like Kvar and the Desians. Acting like people’s lives mean nothing, like others are inferior to them—only creatures fit to be experimented on for their own sick amusement and gain.

He needs to find Mithos, now.

Still, Kratos takes the time to sink to one knee and drape Yuan’s cape over his ashes and mark the spot—the only act of respect Kratos can think of as there’s no body left to bury and no possibility of a more permanent grave-marker.

So far, the day was looking good. The sun was shining brightly and there wasn’t one single cloud in the sky. Which is why Zerena had taken it upon herself to visit the newly sprouted World Tree once again. She couldn’t believe how long it had been since those events, the death of Mithos still very fresh in her mind. But for some reason, no matter how hard she tried, she had always felt compelled to visit the Tree at least a few times a week.

However this time though, it seems fate had decided to play a nasty trick on her. Immediately upon seeing the familiar figure, the young woman stopped dead in her tracks, her heart pounding in her ears. Her hand moves to wrap around the hilt of her rapier, navy hues widening in utter disbelief. How in Martel’s name was this even possible?

You think you’ve got the right house. Well, if not, you’ll deal with that when the time comes. Foregoing niceties, you shout at the door before giving it a nice roundhouse kick.

VRISKA: MITHOOOOOOOOS!!!!!!!!

VRISKA: I’m pretty sure you’re in there, and you HAVEN’T RESPONDED TO ANY OF MY TEXTS!!!!!!!!

@lightswake

You run your fingers through your still-wavy hair. You’d gotten used to the braids, but you realize that you’d missed the mess of fluff against your neck. Your other self’s mockery of your previous look rings in your mind. Which is more “you”? Does it matter?

There’s a lot on your mind as you think of what happened the last time you were here, before you forgot and returned to the dreambubbles. These feelings become further tangled when you see drones with a familiar symbol stamped on their foreheads. Honestly, you didn’t expect to run into the effects of your ex’s Alternian self deciding to tear the city apart. You don’t know why you’re surprised, but that’s how it goes. 

You’re not going to try to stop her, and you’re not going to join her. For once, you’re not going to get involved. 

But when you see a small blonde child too exhausted to move as a drone very nearly crushes him, you fly in and grab him out of harm’s way just in time. You don’t know what possessed you to do something like that (you’ve changed too much). He’s the boy who kept trying to be nice to you no matter how nasty you were back. Even then, you were still such an awful person. But before you can reconsider, his small frame is nestled in your arms as you fly to the top of a nearby building. You set him down and stare at the floor.

VRISKA: Uhhhhhhhh...

Welcome back to beautiful Isola Radiale, Mithos!

You’ll be staying in TOWNHOUSE 212.

You will retain everything you had during your previous stay.

Enjoy your stay!