Staring out over the fields of barley, Wilbur sighed and stopped for a moment. The beautiful crops reminded him of home, and home reminded him of Orville. The two had been together since the beginning, working on bikes, automotives, and most importantly, planes. The love of aviation shared between them spawned the first recorded flight in human history. As for where they went next, well... you'll just have to see.


"Wilbur! I need the 16" wrench!" Orville shouted from the other side of the plane.


"Just a few more bolts, and we should be ready for takeoff!"


Wilbur tossed over the wrench and watched as his brother carefully latched the engine onto the wing.


"And... that should do it. Be my guest" The two stepped into their respective seats on the left and right side. The leather was warm with the heat traveling up from the new engine they had just finished making; this would take them quite high.


"Starting engine. Let's hope she works."


The beast came to a loud roar, before mellowing out to a decent purr. The plane edged forward a little bit as Wilbur released the adjacent flaps.


"Here we go!"


The plane took off, soaring into the sky. Shouting with delight as they went higher and higher, the two brothers failed to notice the ominous clouds appearing from behind them. As they swooped around, a lightning storm appeared over the runway, blocking their return. With the first clap of thunder, Orville spun around, looking at their hangar.


"Wilbur... we'll have to circle around. The runway... oh god."


A few strong gusts knocked the plane around, sending it awry. In a careful attempt to correct the path, Orville wrenched the plane against the wind. Not the smartest idea when you have a flimsy wood and canvas set of wings, as the two were thrown straight into the thick of the storm.


Now frantically trying to get below the clouds, they pushed as hard as they could on the joystick. The nose of the plane dipped a bit, but not nearly enough to get them to safety. Orville started to panic.


Suddenly, a deep, dark voice came within Orville's head.


"You or your brother will perish today. A bird can survive without his wings, but not without his heart."


A stray bolt of lightning hit the engine, blowing metal shrapnel into the sky.


Puttering out and spewing smoke, Wilbur turned around to check the machine.


"We'll have to glide down through this! I don't think the plane can hold enough weight though! It's going to fall out of balance and send us to our deaths!"


"How much weight do we need to lose?!"


"About 150 pounds, considering the rest of the plane should support itself!"


Orville cursed at himself for a moment.


"Are you sure we need to drop that much?"


"I'm afraid to say so, brother! It appears we've went on our last flight! I loved you so!"


Orville's hands began to sweat. His palms seemed numb. Was he imagining that sound in his head? Surely not.


"Orville! Don't be afraid! I'm here with you!"


"Death is not a joyful thing, Wilbur!"


"We've left our mark on the world! Our destiny is complete!"


"Maybe to you. Say goodbye to mother for me, will you?"


Orville released the joystick, his hands quivering and his voice weak.


"Orville, NO! We can die together!!! What are you doing?!"


"Don't shift the weight from here! You should be able to glide down easily, but brace for the landing!"


"Orville!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"


Saluting his brother, Orville let himself fall backwards off of the plane. Watching it zoom over him, the air rushing through his air, Orville thought calmly to himself. Although his brother might mourn for the rest of his days, all was fine.


Both of them would fly on, regardless of where the skies were.