Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Symphonia.
Mithos pulled hard, tightening the knot he had made. As he finished and stepped back to look at his work, Kratos came up to him, having already finished his own. Both of them had taken a rheaird each and tied a guard to it. Kratos had tied the dead guard from the exsphere squadron whom they had fought earlier while Mithos had attached to his rheaird the dead body of the guard who had been watching over the storage.
It had been Kratos' idea not to leave the dead bodies lying around because that would alert the army to their presence. On the other hand, burying them would cause too much noise so the human had decided to take them along and dispose of the bodies once they had achieved a reasonable distance.
Silently, Kratos walked around Mithos' rheaird, bending down occasionally and checking the knots he had made out of the rope. Having deemed it sturdy, Kratos turned around to finish the preparations.
"Start up the rheairds," Kratos told his pupil. "I'll go back to the shed where I found the ropes and get us some more supplies." He began walking off, then turned to add, "and do it quickly before a patrol comes out here to check."
As Mithos began fiddling with the controls that Kratos had briefly described to him earlier, Kratos entered the small side-shack and scanned all the items arranged neatly along the walls. He picked up four copies of the world's map, a Flame Dagger, and replaced his Rune Shield with one of the standard issue Obsidian Shields.
Coming back outside, he found Mithos sitting astride a rheaird with the other right beside him, both hovering gently, ready to takeoff at any moment. In a single, fluid movement, Kratos swung himself upon his ride and gently began to move forward. He turned towards the west, facing the purple horizon. The sun had set and the lights in the main building had been lit. It would not be long before the guards came outside for the next patrol. Signaling back to his apprentice, Kratos pulled his rheaird higher up into the air. As it rose, he angled it slight towards the north, turning away from the west. Satisfied that he was facing the correct direction, Kratos shot forward, riding through the skies on the rheaird. Mithos followed right behind him.
Kratos looked around him, enjoying the feel of the night wind, refreshingly cold to his face. He felt amazing, soaring through the skies. Turning slightly to the left, the human stared at the mountains that the sun had fallen behind only moments before. The sky there was still lighter than anywhere else, but even then it was a deep purple, now fading away to a dark blue. Turning his face up, Kratos stared out at the two full white circles staring back down at him. The twin moons of Aselia shone full and bright on this night. Silveranto and Tesseala, the two moons, had been named after the two kingdoms. They covered the world in a serene blanket of light.
A small whimper from behind broke Kratos' peace. He turned around to find Mithos clutching his rheaird tightly, his body pressed close to the hull. Slowing down, Kratos brought his own machine next to Mithos', then asked the boy what was wrong only to receive another whimper in response.
"Too high," Mithos whispered out a little while later, his eyes closed tight. Bringing his face up, he opened a crack in his eyelids and took a glimpse at the sea flowing beneath him, glimmering a deep blue in the moonlight. With a sharp gasp, he returned to keeping his eyes shut, fear showing clearly on his face. The height at which he was daunted him, and it was all he could do not to faint.
Meanwhile, Kratos watched from behind, amused. A half-elf who had fought off monsters and humans, who had wielded both sword and magic, and who had seen death all his life now sat cowering out of fear of height. Mithos shifted a little and a soft cry for his sister escaped his lips, reaching Kratos' ears. A slight chuckle escaped him even as his ever-serious face broke into a small, involuntary smile. He was still just a small boy. Silently, Kratos drew his rheaird closer and then brought it lower. Soon, he was flying directly under the half-elf. If Mithos were to lose his grip, Kratos could easily catch him.
Satisfied with the step of precaution he had taken, Kratos turned to his left to notice the last patch of purple turning a dark blue as the last rays of the sun left the sky. He looked around himself, content in the flying machine, silent like the world around him, calm like the water flowing beneath him, and completely oblivious to the thoughts rushing through the head of the boy above him.
Mithos had accidently let his eyes open again. He had been afraid to see the sea far below him, but that was not what he saw. With a sudden shock he realized that Kratos was flying directly below him. Was the human truly willing to risk his own life for a chance to save his? Mithos knew that their lives had been endangered many times since setting out from Heimdall, but each time the human had saved Mithos' life, he'd been saving his own just as much. They'd been living in the wild, where having a companion was very important. But now Kratos had a rheaird and he would soon be arriving at a city where he would not easily be recognized. He had no need of the half-elf anymore, and yet he still moved to protect him. He was even doing it silently, not even expecting for the act to be acknowledged. Perhaps Martel had been right when she'd told him that Kratos cared for him just as she did. Maybe she was right when she said that humans and elves were no different from half-elves. Or maybe Kratos was just an exception. After all, even though Martel had said it, how could that be true? There was no way for humans, elves, and half-elves to all be the same. Their blood was different, and no matter what they did, nothing could ever change or hide that. She must've meant something else when she said it.
Kratos opened his eyes slightly then shut them tight. The light burned. Turning his face away, the human opened his eyes again, this time away from the sun. Trying to collect his memories together, he looked around himself. He seemed to be flying through the air, with the sea beneath him, though land was fast approaching. Then, he realized he was on a rheaird. Remembering his companion, Kratos immediately looked above himself, then sighed as he noticed Mithos still riding his rheaird. It seemed the boy had fallen asleep as well, though a little restlessly. His arms and head hung over one side of the machine while his feet dangled down the other, but miraculously he hadn't fallen off.
Taking control of his own craft, Kratos brought his rheaird to fly right next to Mithos', close enough that he could reach over and touch the boy. Then, taking hold of the rope that held the dead guard to the machine, he released the bonds, allowing the corpse to fall into the sea. Next, he did the same with his own rheaird, but this time, he held on to the rope and did not allow it to fall with the body. Moving the flying machine just a little bit closer, Kratos managed to hook one end of the rope to the side of the rheaird closest to him. Then, he let his craft fall lower and maneuvered it to the other side, looping the rope around it as he went. Finally, he traveled over the other rheaird, completing a full circle. Now, the rope was encircling Mithos' rheaird, binding the boy to it. While he would be unable to sit up if he woke up, it would also assure that he would not fall off if he shifted around.
Kratos tied off the rope, leaving some of it dangling loose. He grabbed this, and using it as a leash he began to lower the other rheaird along with his own. He stared ahead at the land and tried to judge the timing for his landing. It would have to be on the small patch of beach directly in front of him, because if he missed that, he would find himself crashing into the Gaoracchia Forest behind it.
Soon, he slowed down the rheairds till they were almost at a standstill. Kratos slowed his down further still so as to allow it to come beside Mithos'. The boy had woken up, taken one look at the sea beneath him and promptly fainted. Reaching over, Kratos could barely reach controls on the half-elf's machine. He bent over a little more and barely managed to touch the landing button. However, his weight had shifted too much and Kratos found himself slipping off of his own craft. His hand slipped and knocked another button on the control pad just as he lost all grip on his rheaird. Desperate, he flailed his hands around, grabbing onto the first thing that came within reach. The rope tying the two flying machines together had found its way into his hands. He held it tight as he noticed with dread what the other button that he had pushed had been; Mithos' rheaird began accelerating even as it lowered towards the ground. Eyes wide, the human released his grip on the rope just as the craft smashed itself into one of the thick trees of the Gaorrachia Forest. Suddenly, blackness engulfed Kratos along with a splintering pain in the back of his head as his own rheaird, tethered to Mithos' by the rope, knocked him out.
Not much of a cliffhanger, I suppose, seeing as how we all know that both Kratos and Mithos have to come out alive.
Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to review (many of you seem to forget, despite the reminders)