See You Again

A door swings open, and a wooden floor creaks under heavy steps. Kratos sighs as his backside sinks into the bed by the window with gentle moonlight leaking through the curtains. Mimir sits on that table again, silent as his eyes settle on the tired demeanor of Kratos.

Atreus plops onto the opposite bed, his eyes also drifting to his father, "...Are you alright, father?" his soft words float across the room, earning a glance from the man in question.

Kratos pauses, his eyes lingering on Atreus as the man sighs again, "...I am alright... Are you?" he asks.

Atreus nods with curled lips, "I'm doing really good... Thank you, father," he says.

The Greek God leans back, setting his hands soft on his thighs, a brow raised as he looks at his son, "For what?" he asks.

"For being with me... I know I haven't been the best son, and when our journey first began, I hated you... But I think I was just angry about Mother, and I needed someone to blame for her death... Now, I know that you are trying your best, and I can't take that for granted ever again," Atreus responds with his hands curled into fists, a frustration towards himself digging into his mind.

Silence falls, a pause of thought between the father and son duo as they have a mutual moment of appreciation, "Do not be angry at yourself, Atreus. If you spend your time thinking of what you could change about the past, then you will lose sight of the future," Kratos says, setting his weapons under the bed as his eyes return to his son, "We will be alright," he lays on the bed, exhaling softly as his eyes close.

Atreus' blue eyes linger on his father for a moment, his lips curled ever so slightly, "Better get some shut-eye, laddy. We've quite a bit to do tomorrow," Mimir says suddenly, his thick accent flowing with a chuckle.

Atreus nods, his eyes trailing to Mimir for a moment, "Do you think we'll be able to get a big house, Mimir?" he asks.

Mimir hums, soft yellow light falling from his eyes, "I dunno, little brother. I don't believe your da' would be too excited about a large home, but if you ask enough, I think the old man will crack under your pressure," he says.

"Do not give the boy false hope, head," Kratos suddenly says, his eyes still closed.

"Oh, I almost forgot you were there, brother," Mimir says, his words turning to a whisper as that light drifts back to Atreus, "He knows I'm right," The head chuckles.

Atreus chuckles slightly along with Mimir, pulling a white blanket over himself with a smile plastered to his lips. The boy closes his eyes, and his young mind drifts to the future, the Blades of Kindling cold under his grip as he slaughters his enemies swiftly, growing stronger with each attack. This continues for what feels like an eternity, and as the future bogs his mind further, Atreus suddenly peels his eyes open, "I can't sleep," he mutters to himself.

The boy leans up from the bed, his eyes drifting to his father, the man's pale skin shining in the moonlight. Atreus sighs, looking at the ceiling as his thoughts are engulfed by several different things, the blades, the dungeon, the familia, and finally, his promise to himself. Suddenly, a book enters his minds, that strange black grimoire that had fallen from the sky.

Atreus stares at that grey knapsack, suddenly throwing the covers off himself as his shoes meet the floor. Wood creaks loud through the silence, and the boy steps light, sneaking to the best of his ability. He reaches the bag, and that book shows itself through the opening.

Atreus plops back onto the bed, book in hand as he leans over. A lamp clicks, and a gentle light covers the small room. The boy settles into the bed with a giddy smile on his lips, opening the grimoire to the first page quick. Though Atreus suddenly furrows his brows as his eyes drift across the words, "It's different..." he mutters inaudibly.

"There are two types of magic. The first is what certain races are born with. The second, called Falna, is granted by a deity's blessing..." Atreus whispers the words to himself, his mind drifting again to a pitch-black space. The boy sees himself there, sitting in a chair with an unknown light shining on his short hair.

Suddenly, another light flickers on, and another figure appears before him. A woman with bright orange hair, towering over Atreus even sitting down. Icy blue eyes glow through the darkness, the same as his own, "What is magic to you?" the woman's commanding voice flows through the dark space.

"Magic is a weapon... An illusion that becomes real with the right hands," Atreus responds.

"What do you desire?" the woman asks again.

"To be strong. I want to be a warrior that can use any weapon, a spear, a sword, and even rage itself, just like father," The boy says.

"What do you seek from magic?" the woman speaks again.

"To light my way. I want magic to help me see past any lie or falsehood, and protect me from those who wish to hurt me" Atreus responds.

"Is that all?" the woman asks.

"No... If it's possible… if that cycle of sons killing fathers... sons killing mothers is real, then I want to be freed of it. I never want to hurt my father," Atreus responds, his eyes set hard on the woman before him.

"Really?" the woman asks again.

Atreus nods, "That is who I am."

The woman nods, her face revealed as she stands from the chair. With wide eyes, Atreus stutters as he gazes at the woman, "M-mother? Why are you here?" His confused words echo through the darkness. Suddenly, the woman's body begins to turn to ashes, and those ashes cover Atreus' body in a thick pale layer, "Mother!? Mother! No! Please don't leave!" Atreus screams, reaching his hand out into the darkness before his consciousness is taken from him.

—-

"Atreus," Kratos sets a hand on his son's shoulder, calling his name to wake the boy. Atreus peels his eyes open suddenly, bolting up from the bed with wide eyes and labored breaths. The boy stares up at his father, his eyes still wide.

"Are you alright, boy?" Kratos asks with furrowed brows, kneeling beside the bed.

Atreus sighs, his eyes falling to the grimoire in his lap, "Yeah... Yeah, I'm okay," he says.

"Was it a nightmare?" The Greek God grabs his son's shoulders with a tight grip.

"I... I don't know," Atreus stares back at his father as a tear rolls down his pale cheek, "I think I saw mother in my dreams," he responds.

Kratos hums, squinting slightly as his rough hand rises to Atreus' cheek, "Cherish that dream, Atreus. To see her again, even in a dream… It is a privilege," his soft words flow with concern.

Atreus wipes his nose with his wrist, nodding, "I know, it's just… She left me," he says.

Kratos stands, humming again as his eyes trail to that black book, "You read the grimoire?" He asks.

Atreus nods, "Yeah, but the words were different…" he opens the book, raising his brows as blank pages enter his vision, "…Their gone," he says.