KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Kratos! Kratos, are you in there?"

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Miles sighed and rested his head on the large wooden door to Kratos's room. He had been waiting for his friend to return for nearly a day now, constantly bashing on his bedroom door, hoping he had come back. Miles spotted him being dragged away by a group of the King's knights at the dinner party the previous night. He had tried to call out to him, but his best friend just looked bewildered, eyes fixed on a dazzling red sword and black leather sheath in the hands of one of the soldiers. Needless to say, the party was called off as the news of Charles's disappearance came to light.

"I'm in here, Miles."

Miles jumped and stepped back slightly from the door. A small murmur of a voice, a voice that was unmistakably Kratos's, echoed through the stone hallway. Fumbling with the door handle, Miles entered the room.

Kratos was rummaging through a wardrobe at the far side of the large bedroom, piles and piles of clothes forming behind him. On his four poster bed lay a black satchel bag and the same leather sheath Miles had seen the day before.

"Kratos..." Miles walked round the room and leant on the edge of the bed, facing Kratos's back, "Kratos, what's going on?"

"Nothing," Kratos replied bluntly, absent mindedly patting a long chunk of hair so it covered his left eye.

"Don't lie. Where are you going?"

Kratos stopped what he was doing and breathed out heavily. In a swift movement, he stood and walked straight past Miles to the bed, holding the hair over his left eye as he went.

"My father is on the run," Kratos answered, stuffing a folded undershirt into his satchel, "The King's knights took me in for...questioning last night as they want to know where he is. I didn't tell them anything."

Miles watched Kratos silently, not quite finding the words needed to reply. He raised his eyebrows as Kratos patted his uncooperative hair over his eye once more.

"What did they do to you?" Miles asked, "Why are you covering your eye like that?"

Kratos turned to Miles, shocking his friend with a stiff glare. He used his hand to lift his hair off his eye, revealing a deep cut across the top right of his forehead and a yellow-green bruise forming around his dark eyebrow.

"Needless to say, they weren't too impressed with my silence." Kratos let go of his hair, letting it fall over his eye and blanket out his injury.

"Dammit Kratos..." Miles breathed, "What did your father do?"

"He was supposed to have been passing data on to the Sylverant government," Kratos replied, causing a look of shock to form on Miles's face, "They assumed I wasn't involved, but reckoned I knew a little about it."

"And they released you? I'd have thought they would have kept you under lock and key for your father to return."

Kratos shook his head, a small smile forming on the corners of his mouth, "They had nothing to charge me with," he replied simply, "meaning they couldn't keep me for more than 24 hours. Got my new sword back and all, bureacracy saved me this time, at least it's good for something."

"Right," Miles nodded, his mind whirring trying to process all this information, "what about the servants? Were they worried about you?"

"They show no loyalty to my father," Kratos replied, face distorting as if he had been subject to a bad smell, "I don't blame them given the measly amount they are paid. To be honest, I think some of them would prefer it if I didn't come back based on how much you and I have put them through over the years."

"Hmph, yeah too true," Miles laughed bitterly, "So where are we going to go?"

Kratos raised his eyebrows as he did up his satchel, "We? I'm going after my father. I'll use the sewer entrance out of the city. You are staying here."

"You think?" Miles laughed, "I can't stay here. Not alone. Besides, they'll probably come for me next wondering where you have gone. I don't fancy hanging here being a sitting duck, waiting to be hauled in."

"You'll need a sword."

"I know. I'll steal a short sword or a dagger on the way out of the city."

Kratos put his satchel on and did up a black cloak around his shoulders, covering his voilet tank top. He turned to his best friend.

"You sure about this?" The 15 year old asked seriously, eyes lacking their usual spark of excitement.

"Definately," Miles replied firmly, heading towards the door, "I'll meet you in the sewers in an hour. Probably makes more sense for us to go seperately anyway."

"Sure." Kratos strapped the sheath holding Flamberge around his waist and used both of his hands to flatten his unruly hair, a style Kratos had not worn before.

"No spikes?" Miles asked absent-mindedly from the doorway.

"Nah...It makes me more noticable. Besides, I quite like it this way," Kratos examined his new, flatter hair style in the mirror, "and I fancied a change."

A/N Bit of a story teller chapter, rather than anything exciting! Please review for me