The Chosen had blessed sight.

Her eyes could see immense distances, the tiniest specs on the ground. She could see for miles and yet, she was confused by the fact that she had never noticed the similarities before. There were so many of them, they were so apparent, yet she had not noticed them until now.

Kratos and Lloyd were so similar.

First, there was the way they both looked up at the stars. Numerous times in Iselia and on the journey Lloyd would excitedly grab Colette by the hand and drag her to an empty field. There they would lie for hours as Lloyd pointed to the glittering sentinels above. He knew all their names, all their stories; it was one of the few things Lloyd could ever remember. It was one of the things he had loved. He told her it was because it reminded him of his father.

Then there was Kratos. All those sleepless nights, Colette had seen him as he gazed up a the stars in stony solitude. They had the same coldness about them – so far, so distant, yet they provided light. She saw him once, spread out on the grass, both his hands behind his head, one leg propped up, bent at the knee – It was the same as Lloyd. He, too, knew the names, the stories. He had told her once, when she couldn't sleep, she couldn't speak. He told her those stories, almost just like Lloyd would tell them. He told her he liked the stars because they shared his loneliness.

They loved the stars for different reasons, but they both watched stars; they knew them.

Why hadn't she noticed?

Then there was the eating. Lloyd would consume almost anything. He would hurriedly shove his meal into his mouth; sometimes Colette wondered if he could taste anything. Lloyd would devour his meal in seconds flat, leaving a spray of crumbs around his plate. The boy would eat anything placed in front of him, guzzle it! Everything, except for one thing: Tomatoes. Lloyd would blanch, pout, and complain about the repellent vegetable in front of him. He would refuse to it eat. And when he did eat it, he would become sluggish and sick for the rest of the day. Tomatoes, Lloyd hated tomatoes.

Kratos, too, seemed to eat almost anything, like Lloyd. Kratos would eat silently, hardly touching his meal. He would slowly, almost as though he was savoring the taste. But he had no expression, almost as if he couldn't taste. When he was done, his plate would be clean, his utensils neatly piled upon the plate. Everything placed before him would be gone, except tomatoes. When tomatoes were placed in front of him, small scowl would slip on his face before he returned to his usual flinty expression. He would eat around the tomatoes, leave them in a neat pile on the bottom of the bowl; he never touched them. If he did, his magic would become slower, and he would become moodier. Kratos, silent Kratos, made his distaste for tomatoes extremely apparent.

They ate their meals very differently, but they both hated tomatoes.

Why hadn't she seen?

Then there was the hair. Lloyd's hair was brown, the color of deep bark on tall trees. It sprang up and flopped about his face in a perky manner, hardly ever covering his large smile.

Kratos' hair was a deep red, the color of earth. It fell about him in disorderly strands and hid his face and features.

However, they both ran their fingers through the gnarled unruly waves whenever they were stressed. Both of their hair jutted around them like weeds that sprang up and would not be tamed.

They had different hair colour, but they had the same course, disorderly hair.

Why hadn't she been aware?

Finally, there were their eyes. Lloyd's eyes were large, and bright. They saw the good in everyone. His eyes immediately trusted. His eyes took in everything, and soon his eyes became bored with everything. Yet, they were always alive, full of light, wonder, and curiosity. Sometimes, his eyes would fill with tears, and they would glow with compassion. Sometimes, they were filled with determination, and glinted with a fiery resolution. But mostly, they were kind. Kind and full of affection for those around him. They were a strange brown. A beautiful strange brown.

Kratos' eyes were narrow. They were distrusting. They took in everything, and soon analyzed everything. His eyes would dart around, suspecting everything in sight. He would glare, he would scowl, rarely did his eyes hold a friendly or affectionate glance. When they did, they were usual rested upon Lloyd. Colette thought, once, she had seen tears in the cold angels eyes. Once, when they were walking away from Lloyd's house, after had had spent all that time at that grave… but even then, his eyes were cold and distant and distrusting. His eyes contained a ubiquitous loneliness in them. They were a strange brown. A beautiful, strange brown.

The intent of their eyes were different, but they were the same color.

Why had she been so blind to it before?

Colette pondered these things as she silently stroked Lloyd's back as he sobbed into his hands. They were sitting outside of the dwarf's house. Everyone else had gone back inside to prepare for Altessa's journey, but Lloyd had stayed behind. Colette remained as his shadow, his companion as Lloyd tried to cope with the news of Kratos….

Kratos was his father.

Lloyd looked up at the sky; he took a breath his fingers through his messy hair; as he did the starlight got caught in his beautiful eyes, making the colour even more striking. She looked at Colette and smiled weakly.

Yes, this was Kratos' son. How had she been so unaware before? Those eyes, that hair, the way they looked at the stars…. There were so many similarities. So many, yet, even with her amazing sight, she had been unable to see.

But one thing she did see.

Kratos, Kratos had always been aware of, protective of, and even affectionate to Lloyd. Now, her sight had increased even more. She was able to see the strange way that Kratos attempted to show that affection to Lloyd. Lloyd, she knew, despite his grumblings, had always looked up to Kratos. He reveled in their practices, sought Kratos' advice, and, as much as he hated to admit it, longed for his praise.

"That…blasted… traitor…" Lloyd mumbled.

Colette sighed and wrapped her arms around Lloyd as a few last large tears rolled down his cheeks.

There were so many similarities between them. Kratos and Lloyd – father and son. She could see them all now.

Yes, so many similarities.

Colette looked at Lloyd and followed his gaze up to the stars above. She sighed.

Another similarity they had was their affection for each other.

But the greatest similarity and the fact that the affection went unnoticed by the other.