(A/N) Next one out! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I. Don't. Own.

Chapter 5

The eerie quiet was rapidly replaced with the soldiers renewed conversation. They laughed and joked with each other about their families, and other soldierly topics. Kratos was struck by the normalcy of their discussion; for battle-hardened soldiers, they seemed like regular people. The man pushing Kratos along nudged him.

"Looks like the Sylvaranti are recruiting younger and younger these days." He observed loudly. Another man snorted in agreement, now looking Kratos up and down. His brow furrowed sadly. Kratos did his best not to cringe under the roving stares, if he were to be recognized it would be now.

"Boy, how old are you, anyway?" The soldier asked, obviously taking note of his shorter stature and leaner frame. Kratos was sick of his age being considered a matter for conversation.

"Seventeen." He remained proud and indignant. The man scoffed at the ruse.

"Bull." He didn't ask any more questions though, and Kratos was grateful. He figured the soldier didn't want to know the real answers anyway, perhaps the notion was depressing. It was no matter, as long as the subject was dropped.

It annoyed Kratos that no one was questioning Yuan, also a young prisoner about his origins. The half-elf was getting much more brutal treatment than Kratos was. They carelessly pushed and prodded the blue-haired Sylvaranti without even trying to appear civil as they had with Kratos. Kratos' blood boiled. Nothing should distinguish him from Yuan. Humans thought they were so superior sometimes.

"Hey!" He called angrily, "show some damn respect to your adversaries. He's a prisoner of war, not an animal." His scowl and glare were nothing short of terrifying, even beneath the slight layer of dirt.

Pausing in their mistreatment, a few soldiers laughed raucously, whereas those that met his gaze quickly looked away. Yuan's eyebrows creased slightly. He'd been taking the situation well; in fact he was used to it, and could handle discrimination. This interference was a new experience for him. Several of the soldiers that had been roughing him up redirected their attention at Kratos.

"You're in no position to bad mouth us, Sylvaranti!" A notably tall Tethe'allan regular spat the last word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. Kratos' glare held, and the soldier harshly tugged the boy's shoulder to himself and kneed him in the back. Hard. Kratos winced from the sharp blow, but the pain was bearable; he'd only get a bruise. The soldier pushed Kratos forward and, apparently satisfied with his retribution, walked further ahead. Kratos smirked, despite the dull throb in his head battling with the splendidly forming bruise on his spine for attention. The other soldiers had stopped harassing Yuan like before, and everyone walked in an uneasy quiet.

Yuan couldn't take his eyes off of Kratos. He didn't understand. The boy had just stuck out his neck for him, even taken a beating. He was a half-elf, and more importantly a Sylvaranti. Yuan had kidnapped him, and Kratos held none of those things against him. Either he was the best actor that ever lived, or Yuan figured he was serious when Kratos said he wasn't racist. The kindness would not go forgotten in Yuan's book. Now he owed him one, and that was going to be a hard debt to pay off. In all actuality, Yuan probably owed him two favors, seeing as how Kratos spontaneously decided to conceal his identity. That had prevented Yuan from being killed on sight. Part of that was probably his aversion to being returned home, and Yuan had yet to figure that mystery out. Still, it wasn't something he took lightly. The kid was complicated.

What was really remarkable was that Kratos just trudged on as if nothing happened. He challenged the soldiers holding them, and they were too shocked or captivated by his audacity to continue as they were. Yuan was just as surprised for once. He was dying to talk to Kratos, but he wasn't going to have the chance for a while.

Yuan refocused. They needed to escape, preferably when they had the fewest guards accompanying them. He had no idea when such an occasion would arise, and he and Kratos would have to coordinate together. Whatever he might owe the kid, there was no way he was cutting his losses and leaving him after all the trouble he'd been put through to find him. He would never find that needle in a haystack again, and just maybe if they made it out alive, Yuan could repay that kindness.

Kratos tried to get a feel for where they were. It was easy to eavesdrop on the Tethe'allans when they thought he was just a brainless soldier. They were a part of the Meltokio regiment, and he figured they would be heading back there. Meltokio was a big city, though. Hopefully he could avoid stepping within those walls altogether, but strangely from the sound of it, the soldiers were discussing preparations to set up camp. That implied they were going further than Meltokio. The exact location of their travels was never stated; in fact they were painfully oblique for the most part about anything serious. Staying anywhere that wasn't inside a city was bound to have its own set of escape opportunities, so either way it was a plus for him and Yuan.

Yuan. That reminded him of that problem as well. He would be lying if the man didn't make him uneasy, but he also was just doing his duty to his country. He was nice enough during their talks. Kratos had trouble reading his complex thought processes, yet at other times he acted like a frustrated child. Whichever way it went, Kratos preferred Yuan's company to these soldiers. He felt more at ease with the half-elf, and Yuan hadn't really shoved a knee through his back either. Kratos had yet to resolve his thoughts on what to do afterwards, but there had to be an afterwards for him to think about. He set his focus on the present. Everything else would just be a distraction.

It was pitch dark, and Kratos felt drowsy despite only having woken up a few hours ago. A bugle sounded to signal the relatively large mass of soldiers to form ranks. Kratos and Yuan were both jostled as the men fell into lines rather quickly, and everyone quieted. A single, important looking man walked down the tidy line of troops. He had shortly cropped gray hair, and held himself with an air of authority. Kratos was reminded of his father slightly; this man's mannerisms were very similar to his when he was well.

"Men!" He barked sharply, "I need a camp set up in the clearing up ahead. Team 3 is taking the first watch, and will cycle every two hours with the next Team up. It's late, so I want neat rows of tents then you all can get some rest." He had reached the row where Yuan and Kratos were held by several soldiers. He frowned at them.

"Those on watch will also keep an eye on our newest additions. I need a round the clock guard." He had a strict, no nonsense tone, and his sharp icy silver gaze met Kratos'. Kratos kept up a carefully calculated expression of blankness and disappointment, which seemed to pass for whatever the man was looking for.

The Tethe'allan troops were hasty and efficient; a solid thirty minutes later they had impeccable columns of squat tents and set up a decent sized perimeter. Yuan was impressed. His troops always seemed to get undisciplined when they weren't in a life threatening situation. If his regiment wasn't the most foolhardy, skilled, and headstrong in all of Sylvarant, then his hair wasn't blue. They were like a family, nothing like this strict and orderly method the Tethe'allans had enacted. The difference was like night and day.

Kratos and he were none too kindly pushed to the center of the camp. Yuan, aside from his exhaustion was feeling a bit better about the situation. They had time to work out a plan. Trying to get a read on his fellow prisoner was more difficult. It was semi-apparent that the auburn haired kid was tired and possibly hurting from his daze-like trance and clouded eyes. It was likely that the bump on his head from earlier had done more damage than Yuan thought. Despite that, Kratos kept his eyes trained ahead and his mouth pressed into a hard line. He was a very convincing Sylvaranti, Yuan thought. The half-elf would be proud if any of his men kept that kind of composure after capture. Yuan was actually very anxious himself. He had never been ensnared before, and the nervousness was to be expected. Fairly certain that Kratos was hanging on for the time being, Yuan turned to their new position.

A scraggly patch of grass complete with the occasional mud puddle composed their holding ground. Yuan was pushed down to a sitting position on the ground, and Kratos more or less was sent sprawling after a coarse shove. Yuan found the man that was leading Kratos was the same abusive soldier wearing a vengeful simper. Kratos pulled himself up with as much dignity as he could muster and was strangely quiet. Where had all of his fiery bravado gone? Yuan scowled for him until the soldier turned on his heel and marched to his tent.

Two other men appeared to be watching them with identical bored expressions. The gray haired commander appeared briskly and whispered something to each guard before waving them off. His eyebrows were angled so that he looked perpetually angry, Yuan duly noted as the man walked forward.

"I want simple and straightforward answers to my questions." He informed them. Kratos looked up sharply and Yuan shifted his hands to a better position as he sat upright.

"I need your names and ranks for starters," Kratos shot Yuan a look that could've meant a number of things.

"Major Yuan Hirozaki" Yuan recited, simply replacing Commander with something a little more inconspicuous. Kratos shook some of his hair out of his eyes.

"Second Lieutenant Daisuke Hayato." He reeled off. The commander nodded.

"Regiment?" He was now directing his question at Kratos and Yuan inwardly cursed. Apparently witnessing the conspiratorial glance, the commanding officer wanted to see if they would slip up.

"Triet" Kratos shot back in his same monotone. Yuan was relieved that he had remembered. Yuan knew his regiments recent movements were in the area, so he could take it from here.

"We were sent to scout behind your lines and report on your troops' relative size as well as the geography to the west of Meltokio." Yuan knew as a Sylvaranti that his most recent maps of the region were several decades old, and rumor had it that the Tethe'allans were partaking in massive infrastructure construction. It was a viable mission. The commander narrowed his silvery irises.

"Were the Sylvaranti so desperate to send a pair of kids?" His gaze darted between them and rested on Kratos again. Yuan had to admit that while he could pass for a young twenty, Kratos looked every bit of his fifteen years. Kratos merely twitched in amusement that Yuan was finally lumped into the 'kid' category.

"We're faster than we look." He replied cockily, and Yuan could almost picture a reality where they were on the same side. He now could openly admit to himself that he was fond of the prince, something he had never thought would happen. The man in charge looked somewhat satisfied with Kratos' answer, or the prideful way he boasted it. He cut off the interrogation.

"Well then, you are both prisoners of Tethe'alla, and as such will be traveling with us until we reach our destination. The court will deal with you after that." The man huffed and walked off in his same restless manner. That was when Yuan realized that where they sat was exactly where they'd be sleeping. Two soldiers, the bored ones from earlier had returned with lumber for a fire. The largest pieces they then hammered as thick wooden stakes into the well packed dirt. One prodded Yuan with the toe of his boot.

"Hey, get up. You'll be sitting over there." He inclined his head to the makeshift pillars. Yuan complied reluctantly, and his and Kratos' bindings were secured to the stakes firmly.

Both watchmen, evidently from Team 3, stood a few yards off and chatted amiably while leaning against one of the few hefty oaks in the relatively large clearing. At least for the next two hours, Yuan and Kratos might have some peace. Speaking of which, Yuan glanced over to his fellow 'Sylvaranti'. Kratos had his head pressed up against the stake as he gazed upward at the sky. Ample starlight and a full moon reflected in his eyes. The dirt he'd rubbed in his hair and skin did nothing to conceal his unique demeanor, and Yuan could tell he was exhausted. Yuan was as well.

"Psst. Kratos!" Yuan whispered, attempting to jerk the boy out of his injury-induced stupor. Kratos snapped to attention almost instantaneously, and through the darkness, Yuan could make out his head turning to face him.

"Do you have any knives on you?" He hissed back, evidently having been contemplating escape. Yuan was about to respond when the watchmen finally managed to strike a fire a good fifteen yards away. The deep red light flashed and grew stronger, soon casting deep shadows as it danced around them. Sparing a look at the guards, he saw they were distracted.

"Just the one in my boot." He managed.

"What about your blade?" Kratos had noted its absence some time ago and wondered if Yuan ditched it.

"I have to summon it, but to do magic I need my hands." The simple idea of pulling his favorite butterfly blade out of thin air appealed to him from a young age; he wouldn't have to lug it around. Only now did he see the necessity of magic as a disadvantage. It was better that he didn't get it taken from him, though.

"Can you take out your dagger?" Kratos' voice was soft and low, barely audible beneath the more distant sounds of crackling embers and quiet murmuring. Yuan pulled his right boot nearer and tried to tuck it behind his body to reach his hands. The thick ropes pulled taut while chafing at his skin. He could almost reach it, but the angle was too much and the rope was too tight. Maybe if he pulled it out with his left foot, and balanced it to his knee, he could drop it behind him within reach of his arms.

"Not an easy job." Yuan reported to Kratos who shrugged at the misfortune. He didn't have anything remotely sharp thanks to Yuan, and he tried squirming out of the binding. All his efforts bore only bloody wrists and a skeptical outlook. If Yuan could manage to cut his ropes, the hardest thing would be splitting the perimeter. Perhaps at the guard change in approximately two hours they could break for it. Kratos couldn't suppress a yawn.

"Wake me in two hours, or when you cut those things, whichever comes first." Kratos relaxed his shoulders the best he could in the uncomfortable position.

Yuan was about to protest that they should both remain alert, but the way Kratos' head lolled to the side and his form went limp told Yuan he was already sound asleep. Yuan sighed briefly and then went back to work on his dagger. If he could just cross his legs, maybe? He tried several other positions and was relieved when the dagger slid out of his boot at last. It landed softly in the short grass, and Yuan slid it over to his body with his foot. Almost there.

When his fingers slid around the cool handle of the dagger, Yuan began sawing furiously at the ropes. It'd be about an hour before the guard change, and he could either wait until the switch, or move when those on duty would be most fatigued. The watchmen by the fire were drowsily poking the dying embers with a stick. Neither of them seemed to have the effort in them to get it blazing again. Yuan felt his rope loosen as they were severed. The air felt blissfully cool against his wrists and he sunk a bit lower than the binding had allowed before.

"Kratos," he hissed, now ready to enact phase two. The boy stirred slightly, but his eyes didn't open. He didn't look serene while he slept like most people did. His face revealed deep agitation. His eyebrows were furrowed in quiet concentration.

"Kratos!" He whispered as loud as he dared. The guards didn't seem to notice. Kratos' eyes snapped open wide, and he glanced about to get his bearings. Just as rapidly, he was calm and collected.

"Did you get it?" Yuan nodded and checking once more to see the irresponsible watchmen occupied, he tossed the dagger to Kratos' side.

The kid made short work of the ropes and visibly loosened up after their release. He fingered the metal of the dagger nervously. He was thinking along the same lines as Yuan.

"Now or at the trade off?" The question caused Yuan to look again. The guards were sluggishly sitting cross-legged in the grass, barely keeping up a dreary conversation.

"Now" Yuan decided in a hoarse whisper. He got a nod in reply. Creaking up on sore legs, Yuan slowly stood. The cover between the tents to their right was a good bet, and from what he could tell, the closest option to the edge of their camp.

Kratos swayed as he stood. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and slowly trailed Yuan. They were silent and stealthy. As they hit the tent area, a yell broke through the calm. Apparently the guards noticed they were gone. They broke into a sprint at the edge of the forest. For just once in his life, Kratos found himself lucky. Those guards marching the perimeter were thankfully elsewhere. Barreling blind through the dark trees, he didn't hear any signs of pursuit. The yelling remained contained at camp. He didn't know which way they were going and where it might lead, but Yuan and he ran until they couldn't anymore. Yuan had stopped before he did; obviously he hadn't gotten a wink of rest while Kratos had. They both collapsed in the dirt to catch their breath.

"I don't think they're behind us." Kratos rasped heavily, his voice breaking from its whisper.

"That was deceptively easy." Yuan muttered, and spared another look behind them. His men would never have been so careless. For whatever reason, he was appreciative. He needed a good rest, but they'd distance themselves first.

In an unspoken truce, both teenagers stood and walked off together as equals. Yuan didn't trouble himself with Kratos' background, nor Kratos with Yuan's. They'd leave that for later.

(A/N) Thanks for reading, please leave a review to tell me watcha thought! (Typo notification or criticisms are welcome... I'll edit out anything too sloppy)