Together We Can
He wasn’t completely sure why a sense of relief flooded him when she stepped out of the shadows and stood next to him, knife in hand, a fierce anger in her lavender eyes. Maybe it was the fact that now he was sure she was alive—there was no more guessing, worrying, wondering if he was going to find her body on the battlefield—or maybe it was simply because his heart felt a little lighter when she was next to him.
She glanced up at him, mentally noting that he was much taller than her now. A piece of his unruly black hair fell in front of his eyes. Slowly, she offered him her hand and he took it, threading their fingers. He blinked. Time seemed to freeze.
“Breathe,” she whispered to him.
“What makes you think I can do this?” His voice cracked slightly.
“Because it’s you.”
His body shook as her words registered. She trusted him so much. He trusted him with her life. All of the people here—the warriors who were poised for war, ready to fight until death—trusted him enough to leave their comfort zone and prepare for battle. What if he let them down?
“Calm down,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.
He snapped out of his thoughts. “When this starts we’ll lose each other.”
She gave a sad smile. “I’ll be fine. You know me.”
“But what if—”
“We all trust you.”
“That’s the problem.”
“Hey.” She narrowed her eyes at him firmly and pointed her knife at him, the dull side barely touching his armored chest. “Listen up—no matter what the prophecy said, it’s not just you going into that battle.”
“I know.”
“We’re here with you.”
“You’re risking your lives—”
“What I mean is,” she said, her voice far more calm than it had been a moment ago, “you’re not alone. You don’t have to face anything alone. Not as long as I’m here.”
“I wouldn’t be able to do it without you. Without any of you.”
“Sure you could,” she teased. She spun her knife casually in her hand and bumped him with her shoulder.
He shook his head stubbornly. “If I make it out alive, it’s only because you helped me.”
She sighed, her eyes looking at the horizon. Over the rolling hills of grass, there was an army waiting to fight. At the front was a boy with shaggy blonde hair and green eyes dressed in armor. A sword was tucked into its sheath and a quiver was perched on his back. Behind him, there was his army. He nodded slightly at the girl and she spoke to her companion.
“They’re waiting for their leader, Nikias.”
He smirked. “Victory,” he mumbled, defining the Ancient Greek name.
She nodded and turned back to look at him. “We’re all next to you, you know. Alone, we can only lose.”
“Together,” he said as a grin grew on his lips and he raised his sword high in the air, “we can only win.”
She rolled her eyes at his dramatic statement and winked. “Race you to the battle,” she called over her shoulder as she ran down the grassy hill towards the waiting army.
He followed and, for once, he didn’t look back.