Disclaimer: I own Tales of Symphonia……. No I'm joking I do not own TOS
Authors Note
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Tales of Origins
Chapter 1
Lone Fury
It was night. The sun shone no more on the earth, only the moon and the stars presided over the land until the morning when they would fade away from the replaced by the sun.
There in the soft green grass sat the boy. His face was in a perplexed ecstasy as he gazed at the stars He analyzed each individual one all in their unique patterns.
"Mithos, Mom says its time to go to bed," said a girl coming out of the clearing.
A scowl crossed his face," Up yours Martel," he yelled.
"Mom and Dad said it's time to go to sleep now!" Martel inflected her voice showing that she meant business.
Mithos got up, running a frustrated hand through his blond hair. "Alright alright….jeez I'm coming," he said in a more passive tone. He started for his small house when Martel grabbed his shoulder.
"Please… Mithos… my brother… don't leave me out here… alone."
His past anger deteriorated as he placed a comforting hand on his sister's shoulder," Martel…," he paused collecting his thoughts," Ill never leave you alone"
"Promise, please."
Mithos had no answer and silently, without a word went back to the house to sleep.
Mithos woke to the early rooster crying in the distance signaling him to begin the day's farm-work. He put on his working clothes and went with his farmer's scythe out to the fields. He pushed past all the brush and branches caught in his way, still pressing on. A crow cried in the distance. He looked over, startled, as his heart pounded faster and faster, he saw something rise out of the sky. A lone arrow was speeding towards him. He could not think as he stood, perplexed by a gargantuan fear.
The arrow caught him square in the chest ashe collapsed to the earth crying in pain. Realizing there was no time for crying he ripped the arrow out and screamed in fury. His fear quickly turned to a rampant anger as he charged in the direction of the arrow with the arrow and the scythe clutched in his hands.
There was a large man there clad in iron armor with the bow in his hands. He smirked at the size of his attacker, struggling to contain himself. He smiled at him, latched an arrow and fired at him.
Mithos threw himself to the Heimdall soil as the arrow missed him. He regained his footing only to see a grinning archer holding a knife to his throat. Mithos lost his breath and his thought turned to an uncontrollable vertigo. He slowed his breath to a constant rate and regained his thoughts. The arrow. Use it, use the arrow. He looked down at the arrow, lifting it up quickly and driving it at the man.
It caught him through the face spewing blood as Mithos pushed harder in his vengeful delight. The man still bearing his smile dropped to the soil, dead.