Fate's Cruel Mercy


Summary: But a year after the events of Symphonia, Kratos returns unexpectedly, seeking an urgent talk with Lloyd. However, Lloyd flees in hopes of concealing a horrific secret. As the truth unravels, alignments are forgotten. The battle between good and evil: can one side ever win without loss?


A/N: Really, I'm not sure if I'll continue this. It's just a test run of a plot idea that I got from a dream/nightmare thing. But again, should I continue this, I'll most likely use the 'pulling-plot-twists-outta-my-butt' method that I tend to use a lot (successfully too).

Without further ado, my darkfic wanna-be...


Above us, the clouds seem to cover the sky entirely, they're dark—too dark. With any luck, they'll cancel this tournament. I've got a bad feeling in my gut.

Though that's been there since this day one of this whole ordeal, hasn't it?

All this thinking I've been doing pays me off with a nice, hard blow to the head. It seems I've been spotted, too clearly, there's no escape. I'll just have to act natural...

"Oh, hey, Professor! Uh, wait—aren't you in—?"

"No time for that, Lloyd. Quick, come with me." she hisses, pulling me aside the crowd. I'm backed into a dingy corner, this could get ugly. She looks me directly in the eye. "I don't know how, or why, but Kratos is here, right now. He wants to speak with you."

Not really given a choice, I sputter, "Umm, sure. Okay?"

She nodds, "I'll be right back, stay here." With that, she disappears back into the crowd.

The situation has turned dire, if he sees me, everything could be ruined. There's no reward for failure. In desperation, I look to every nook and corner of this small area I've become caged in... I can't afford doing anything that would set me out of the ordinary, my clothes alone do enough.

Just in the nick of time, I spot a latch in the ceiling; it must lead somewhere, probably for maintenance workers to scrape the bird crap off the statues on the top of the coliseum. Works for me.

A take a great leap upward, slamming the trap door upwards with my shoulder, managing to land my upper body on the floor above. Damn clumsiness, I guess that wasn't included in the contract. Shoot!

Just as I manage to scramble up onto the next floor, Raine, accompanied by Kratos, find their way through the sea of spectators and catch a glimpse of my flight.

Hah, and I thought I was off the hook.

I almost jump out of my skin when I heard his presence behind me; how had he managed to execute that landing so perfectly is beyond me. This, could truly be bad.

I turn my head to my left, so he can't see my right side. I'm shaking; I don't want to do anything to jeopardize him, or anyone here. "Stop." I say, inching towards the edge, "Don't move, or I'll jump." In reality, I wouldn't jump from this height, I wouldn't have enough time to draw my wings, but he doesn't know that. Even if he does, he's smart; he wouldn't dare run the risk.

"Lloyd—" his voice is significantly softer than I've ever heard him, making things all the harder. Damn, I really don't want to do this, this is insane! But I have no choice, it has to be done.

I squeeze my eyes shut; I can't bear to look at him, or anyone else. It's for the better, I try to convince myself. I really hope that's true.

With a quick burst of energy, I spring from the ground onto the top of a pillar nearby. I have to get out of here; I can't be seen by my father. He'll see right through me, I can't afford any slips ups like that.

The pillar extends a good distance ahead, luckily for me. In a panic, I dash the distance of the pillar and prepare for flight. The difference between the two heights isn't great, but I know I can pull it off from here. It'll be a close call, but it'll have to do for now.

Unsurprisingly, Kratos continues to pursue me, yelling things in attempts to stop me, useless, I can't hear any of them anyway. All the better for me.

Again, I take a huge leap into the air. This time though, as soon as I reach the peak of my jump, I dive downward, that's hardly the difficult part. As I descend at mach speeds, the flesh from my back tears in two gashes, from them sprouts my new wings.

My goddess...! His wings, they're... as black as coal! What's happened to my son? I could hear Kratos' thoughts ring through my mind, the concept is new to me, but I won't question right now, I've got to focus on fleeing.

That comment cost him dear time, as he's just now figuring out. From the corner of my eye, I see him drawing his wings almost effortlessly, chasing me in aerial pursuit. Little does he know, I've still got one ace left to play.

There's about ten meters separating me and the ground, if I mess this up now, it's all over. The fighters in the arena below look so frightened, they won't be harmed though, they have nothing to fear. ...Now!

I open my wings wide to bring me halting to a stop, but before that can happen, I flip and touch off the dirt going upward once again. I hear the audience gasp, make that twice: it seems dad managed what I did. No matter.

I turn sharp right, as does he. Sharp downward, then left, he follows with ease. It's then I see my opening: there's a balcony bridge between three walls, open to face the arena, of course. With quick upward spike, I veer straight at the people standing on the bridge. He trails close behind me, more intent that ever. Perfect.

The reactions of the spectators are too slow to escape, though just as I came within arm's length of the group, using a strong flap of my wings, I miss them by inches, then swiftly circle underneath the bridge, over the wall and out of the stadium. Going by the large crash and screams resonating from the coliseum, I don't believe dad made it.

Outside the stadium, it's surprisingly barren. Obviously it would be out-of-the-question to land in the city, so I'll just have to deal with this deserted plain land for now. There's no place to hide, but plenty of room to run.

Agh, but if I only could! I reach back; these newly incarnated wings still drip with blood and ache terribly. I wouldn't be at all surprised if they suddenly spontaneously combusted into flames. Every muscle is screaming in agony, even as I stand here soothing these searing pangs erupting in every fiber of my new being. It was far too early to have drawn these cursed wings, of that I was well aware. Maybe, just maybe I won't have to—

"Lloyd!" It was Zelos, accompanied by just about everyone else, including Kratos. Damn it all, why now? "Lloyd! What's going on? What's wrong?" said Colette, her voice laced with concern; what were the odds of that?

I fell to a knee; the pain was getting worse by the second. I looked down, again to keep my face from being seen. "Don't... come any closer." I warned them gruffly. Though I hate to admit it, it was not for their own safety, but for mine that I was worried.

Despite my inability to see where they stood, I could easily tell it was Kratos who had stepped forward as I took to a kneel, and regardless of my warning, still continued to do so.

"I said stop!" I raised my free hand, slowly enclosing it into an open fist, thus constricting my own father. This whole situation when against my human will... but that doesn't account for anything anymore.

Terror stricken, everyone else froze, watching in silent horror as their companion, my companion, suffocated. It wasn't until Sheena broke the icy hush that any mortal sense came to me, "Stop! He's on our side! Don't let your father die at your hands!" her voice near cracking with plea.

My hand begins to shake violently, even if I wanted to, I couldn't find it within myself to kill my own dad. It falls; as does he, barely catching himself at a kneel, gasping for precious breath.

"But whose side are you on?" I pose on them; they don't respond.

An unnatural glimmer in the sky catches my attention, without hesitation I look up. With realization, I can't help but smirk: it's a trap of fate. It's a fluke from fate that a such light shined, a fluke that my little covert has been unearthed because of the light, and a fluke that I have yet to be pulled.

As if on cue, all fades to crimson, and I'm back in the Hall of Derivation. It's dead silent: I have displeased Him with my performance.

It doesn't matter, I'm no longer afraid. Martel knows what she's doing, she'll stop me one way or another.