Blood Bonds: An Angel's Love

Hi 123, thank you for your plot idea about the sexual ritual and Lloyd's angel transformation^_^ Hi Artemis-sensei, sorry end of the last chapter was rushed. I kinda ran outta ideas. Next chapter will be lemon. I couldn't fit it in this one since it got too long.


Chapter 6

The rising sun’s aura cast yellow light splashing into soft carnation orange blended with pink fading to lavender and dark blue as the it lit the sky, casting delicate tones of yellows, pinks, and purple in shadows of sand dunes over the tawny Triest desert. By midday a golden ocean of sand stretched to the horizon in gentle swells as far as the eye could see. Within a few miles the last of the short vegetation faded and the running stream that whispered Lloyd to sleep ran dry. The beauty of sunrise vanished as the burning sun bore down mercilessly ahead, sweat dripping down the entourages’ brows.

“Good god, it’s hot,” muttered Genis, tugging at his vest to let some air creep in underneath.

He narrowed his stormy gray eyes, noticing Lloyd’s energy flow had changed since started his angelic transformation. “Lloyd, your mana signature is different,” he whispered in hushed tones to avoid Raine’s open ear. “It moves in a figure eight unlike before. Take that number, turned on its side, it symbolizes eternity, meaning time doesn’t exist. It’s as if all internal aging in you has…stopped.”

Petrified, Lloyd stumbled, almost falling in sand. “I…I can’t believe it’s happening.”

Genis grabbed him, shaking his arm, genuinely concerned. Neither he nor Raine took a liking to Kratos, the Professor’s cynicism rubbing off. “What, Lloyd?” he probed.

“Ah, it’s nothing.” Lloyd forced a nervous smile, shrugging. “Let’s go! The first seal awaits!”

“You’re terrible at lying,” growled Genis, frowning, trailing after Lloyd’s sandy steps. “I only noticed cause I read mana better than sis’ does. I’d better let her know.”

Swallowing, the silver haired boy spun around under Kratos’s intent gaze. “What do you want!?”

“…I made no such inquiries,” the mercenary replied politely, shaking his head, his face an expressionless mask.

/Lloyd, you trust too easily. Don’t blame me if he breaks your heart and something bad happens/, Genis thought, laughing sardonically to himself, “Better to be deceived than to deceive. What a stupid dwarven vow, is that what you’re thinking, Lloyd?”

When the sun peaked to its zenith at noon, the travelers scurried to the Triet inn, exhausted and weary. The oasis village’s shrinking lake provided no relief from the blistering heat, only crucial water. Able to live without food, drink or sleep as an angel, the temperature bothered Kratos little. Lloyd’s hastening transformation increased his endurance, allowing him to tag after Kratos.

Father and son had started off as rivals, like day to night, fire to ice, Lloyd the former, hotheaded and passionate, Kratos the former, cool, calm and collected. If day hugged night, fire kissed ice that became their bond. Comparable to a single soul separated in two bodies, wanting only to bask in each other’s presence, the Goddess alive dancing within.

The Chosen and half elf siblings sought refuge in the in, leaving both swordsman to wander Triet, strolling through its open-air markets and exotic bazaars, with goods shipped in by caravan, while hawkers harassed passersby’s and villagers milled lazily about in front of rectangular, butter colored homes built from adobe brick.

“Hey Kratos, wait up!” huffed Lloyd, chasing after through a crowd of turban clad villagers. “What’re looking at?”

“Hmm, this.” The seraph cocked his head towards a table with lavish silks of snow-white, lavender, orchid purple, and a multitude of pastel covers arrayed in neatly folded rows. “Lloyd, I want to make you something, since we will be spending some time together.”

Did that mean eternity as angelic lovers, or comrades on the Chosen’s Journey? Lloyd hated his father’s subtleties and vague answers, as though obscured by a thick impenetrable mist that clouded his stormy aura.

He muttered, Kratos’s silence unnerving. “Tell me!” he demanded curtly, balling a fist.

“…You lack patience.” Glancing down at Lloyd, irises bright as fiery maple leaves in autumn, he sighed tiredly, stroking his son’s rosy cheeks. “You had best exercise caution when addressing Genis,” he advised tactfully, though tender. “It seems your mana flow will soon settle and the transformation shall proceed quite well, Lloyd.”

“But if you’re human, how do you read mana, Kratos?” Lloyd murmured, caressing the back of Kratos’s hand pressed to his face, tracing its slender outline.

“…So many questions.” Laying a loving kiss to Lloyd’s forehead, Kratos inclined the boy’s chin up so their eyes met, ruby reflecting chocolate. “By a long time, I mean the rest of our infinite lives. Perhaps, we could enact an age old ritual that serves to…bond us.”

Nuzzling his face in the curve of Kratos’s neck, Lloyd hands roamed down Kratos’s muscled arms, taut under his touch. “You mean…marriage?” He stepped back from Kratos, his own arms dropping down in shock. “Marriage! But we’re guys,” he countered.

Kratos placed a thumb beneath Lloyd’s jaw. Leaning in, he searched deeply. “The Chosen said she believes the Goddess dwells in all our hearts,” he said, voice rich and musical. “Tell me, does the Goddess love more or less in the heart, if one is a man or woman?”

/Of course, Kratos is an angel. He would know Martel’s true heart/. Lloyd’s arms wound Krato’s broad shoulders. Regarding Kratos thoughtfully, he replied, “No, Kratos.”

Kratos rewarded him with a kiss on his lips. “Very good. Do you understand? That is the nature of love.”

/I know I’m only 17. Genis would say I’m impulsive, but I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. Never loved so powerfully/. Nodding, tears welled in Lloyd’s large liquid orbs. “Yes, I would like to…marry you,” he confessed, voice lowered in warm intimate tones.

Pulling Lloyd close, one of Kratos’s hands slid smoothly down Lloyd’s spine, the other around Lloyd’s head, cradling it. “Give me your ring, Lloyd. I shall polish it in preparation for tonight.”

“Yay!” Lloyd’s heart sang, delighted at their newfound union. At first, the prospect of Colette’s journey set his blood on fire, but the love he experienced with Kratos enflamed his entire being: body, mind and soul merged together into a single giant flame, no words described his joy, his bond with Kratos all the bliss he experienced. To spend that joined to his beloved soul mate as an angel of the Goddess, what greater blessing could there be?

“Lloyd, you’re glowing so bright, you look like an angel,” Colette said sweetly, greeting the swordsman after he settled at the inn.

“R-really? Thanks, Colette.” Lloyd blushed, his cheeks a pale pink from tantalizing thoughts of Kratos.

“Oh, your welcome.” Her high pitch laughter, pleasant like a canary’s song, rang out clear like the peal of bells. Smiling girlishly, she confided, “From the moment you two met, I saw you held a special place in his heart.”

“You mean…Kratos? You could tell?” Lloyd’s eyes went wide in utter surprise.

“Of course. The Church may have hired him as a mercenary to protect me, but I think the real reason he came, was to meet…you.” The Chosen whirled around, arms turned up and dress flared out as if she were the one in love. “I think that when we fall in love, the Goddess in each of our hearts is drawn to our soul mate through destiny. What do you think, Lloyd?” She giggled, inviting him to join her.

Taking her hand, he flushed an even brighter shade of pink. “It’s mysterious. Collete, d-do you think you could do me a favor? Kratos and I want to be…” he stammered, the thought turning his blush a pure cherry red.

“Hmm? Married?” the Chosen guessed, winking, her sapphire eyes alight. “Oh, how wonderful! Being the Chosen seems to make me a member of the priesthood, so maybe I wed both of you in holy matrimony. I studied the ritual and know the vows in angelic.”

“Colette…” Lloyd wanted to weep tears of joy. “You would do this?”

“Why not? Ever since I’ve been the Chosen, I would’ve been alone in school if you weren’t there. This is the least I can do for a friend, no, a brother.” Sentiment brimmed in her voice.

In the periphery of his vision, Lloyd’s sight flickered to a lone solitary figure, framed in the low adobe door, a cloth covered bundle nestled in the crook of its arm. Brilliant sunlight spilling in from the entrance backlit the tall form in a splendid halo. The inn’s dark interior’s cast a shadowy silhouette on the lovely creature shrouding him in mystery. As he stepped into a diffused beam of light streaming in from a high square window, Lloyd’s breath caught in his throat at his beauty.

“Kratos…” he whispered, swearing the clouds of heaven would part behind the gorgeous being if he descended from the sky, amidst a shower of golden light.

The vestiges of a smile played across his features, right half hidden beneath wispy strands of hair. Excitement shinning in his jeweled garnet eyes, face still composed to hide the undercurrent of emotion, he unwrapped the bundle before Lloyd.

“For our marriage, wear it,” he suggested, planting a kiss on Lloyd’s cute button nose.

A pure snow-white kimono, clean as rice paper before the ink of the calligrapher’s pen, its heavy fabric tumbled free in an even symmetrical design, the right edge of the neckline crossed diagonally over the chest, with the left layer beneath, tied by a wide obi sash encircling the waist. In Kratos’s other hand dangled a pair of wooden geta sandals to accompany it.

Dreams swam in Lloyd’s misty vision. “How lovely,” he exclaimed, hugging the garment close to his chest like a baby.

With an arm around Lloyd, Kratos guided him to their room upstairs.

“Undress,” the seraph commanded, shutting the door behind. “And change in it.”

“What?” Lloyd coiled back, feeling modest.

Wordless, Kratos faced away to let Lloyd disrobe in privacy. His thought, /Lloyd, although you may see me as a divine being, I am a sinner for loving you, my own flesh and blood. Will our marriage plunge me further into the depths of hell? If I am to fall, then let me do so out of true love/.

“Ouch! My back hurts,” Lloyd whimpered, doubling over. His crossed arms squeezing his narrow torso, he cried falling to his knees, face contorted in pain.

Catching him, lowering him to the floor, supporting Lloyd’s trembling frame, Kratos closed his eyes focusing on Lloyd’s life force. /Lloyd’s mana moves in a figure eight turned on its side right behind his shoulder blades. It hurts there because the mana has gathered, forcing his wings to grow in/, observed Kratos.

“Your wings are coming in,” Kratos said, supporting Lloyd in his arms. “That’s why it hurts. It’s because I didn’t want to experience the pain again of loosing one I love, the worst kind of pain that exists, that I made you become an angel. Because of my selfishness, you are suffering, Lloyd. Please, forgive me.”
“Kratos, it’s okay. I love you more than words can express.”

Lloyd spoke tenderly, voice brimming with deep affection. He felt the beating of Kratos’s heart in the dark adobe inn, Kratos’s radiant warmth, and Lloyd’s senses were filled with it, and the delicious scent of roses about the lovely seraph. “Living forever doesn’t sound fun, but with you I think I would be…nice. Besides if you were sad, I would be, too.”

“Ssh, you should rest.” Kratos put two fingers across Lloyd’s mouth, speaking in gentle tones. He slipped his thumb beneath Lloyd’s chin, tilting it up in a kiss.

Melting in, Lloyd’s questing tongue probed gingerly, asking for entrance. Their foreheads pressed together, Kratos felt Lloyd’s pulse evenly, swept away by a choking tenderness. Kratos stirred under the warm breath of Lloyd’s exploring mouth, gently opening his to allow the boy controlled access. The angel’s wine red eyes fluttered open, dappled with amber, drowsy-lidded peering softly at Lloyd. Drowning in their depths, Lloyd mused on the manner his loose bangs waved as it fell across his brow.

Kratos smiled slightly, laying his cheek against Lloyd’s temple, remembering his son’s needful desires. /You are my love, the light of my existence, the greatest blessing Martel gave me when you took your first breath at birth, and I caught you I my hands, my precious baby boy. A father protects his young. I would never do anything unless you truly understood/, Kratos felt from the bottom of his heart.

Kratos’s strong hands massaged Lloyd’s tight back, digging deep into the tissue between the curve of his spine and shoulder blades. He sighed, shaking his head. /No good, the mana is trapped inside. If it builds too quickly and bursts, forcing his wings out, it could possibly cause a heart attack. I saw this happen to half-elves who rushed the angelic transformation during the great Kharlan War/.

Lloyd’s hand strayed to Krato’s hair, lifting his bangs out of his face where it fell, meeting his dark loving eyes. “You looked worried, Kratos,” Lloyd murmured, pushing up to a kiss, biting lightly on his father’s lower lip, chapped and wet.

Kratos regarded his beloved dear warmly. He gathered his wits, studying Lloyd’s face, glad that fear no longer marred his sweet adorable features. Sitting up, he drew back, the thrall of tenderness washing over. He gazed fully into Lloyd’s chocolate eyes, spotted with gold flecks, revealing the answer in his own ruby eyes, with an expression neither time no distance could break like the Eternal Sword severing two worlds.

The few words Kratos gave lasted forever, etched in Lloyd’s memory. “You must release the mana flow from within.”

The younger swordsman saw the urgency of Kratos’s fear in his sentiment, signaling death might come if his mana suddenly burst out. “How, Kratos?” he queried.

Stretching out his long legs, Kratos hugged the boy closer on his lap. “…I anticipated you would ask.” Agitation played in the delicate lineaments of Kratos’s chiseled handsome face.

Blushing, Lloyd read him like an open book when others only
guessed. It seemed shameful, adult, something he knew little of, chiding himself again.

“Children are not born knowing how their parents made them, just as people are when they think how the Goddess created them.” Kratos kissed Lloyd’s temple, his warm lips parted, whispering, “The cosmos is governed by opposing dualistic principles of Yin and Yang. Your mother, Anna is Yin: passive, corresponding to night when you were born from the cave of her womb. Your father, the Yang, or active force planted his seed there in her cave to…start you.”

“Why go through all that…trouble?” The depths of Lloyd’s eyes glittered amber, his skin flushed down his neck in embarrassment.

Kratos couldn’t say to his innocent son he did because he enjoyed the physical pleasure. If Lloyd found out Kratos was his father, he might feel hurt he existed only as a byproduct of his father’s bodily passion.

“Hmm, I suppose Mother Nature has ingeniously ensured life continues to exist by rendering the act as…pleasant,” he remarked idly, his ageless face calm and gentle. “You would understand if you experienced it, Lloyd, releasing the mana trapped in your changing body.”

“Would my wings come out? I want to be an angel like you.” Lloyd hugged Kratos hard, his boyish features beaming the same as when he was three.

/I wanna be an angel, cause I can fly with you, Daddy/, little Lloyd had said, playing with Krato’s wings.

The image of Lloyd as an undeniably adorable toddler overlaid on his current teenage self, tapped in Kratos an inner wellspring of parental instinct. Kratos looked over him fondly, his ruby eyes dappled with amethyst engaging his son’s.

“Lloyd, I must ask this of you,” Kratos said, leaning the boy’s head against his powerful chest. “Is it morally right for a father to teach his son about sexuality?”

Lloyd sighed, shifting his head where it rested under Kratos’s soft chin. “You always think like Professor Sage. Why are adults so confusing?” Lloyd looked up forlornly. “Let me ask you, Kratos, does the father love his son enough to teach him? Kratos, I wonder since Dad’s alive, does he love me?”

“More than…you’ll ever know.” The seraph wanted to cry, 14 long years of pent up tears, having suppressed the urge to truly hold his son. The few tears shed before barely sufficed. “If he’s alive, he has a duty to do so. I love you deeply, Lloyd, so let me teach you, my boy.”

TBC