The Longest Journey Pt. 1: Battle

The battle was bloody. Everything hurt. Her arm ached from swinging the sword. Her head ached from the cut on her head. She felt the sweat pour down her forehead, causing her hair to stick to her face. She resisted the urge to wipe it away as she swung at another guy. Down he went, as she swiped at another one.

Stab. Duck. Parry.

Stab. Duck. Block.

She tried not to think too much as she fought against the near endless swarm of soldiers. Her body cried for rest. They begged her to stop moving and to just rest.

She refused. Not when he was so close. She could see him. She could see his tall, broad-shouldered body swiping at the incoming army. She knew he could see her too. Just a few more yards. Just a few more feet.

She stabbed another soldier, ducked and swiped at another. A constant din of shouting surrounded her, but nothing else seemed to matter. Just him. Just get to him.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of cloth. She barely managed to block the soldier. She swiped at him, but he parried. He swung towards her head. She ducked out of the way and tried to cripple him by slicing his heel. He blocked and shoved her backward. She landed on the ground and groaned in pain.

He swung down hard. She just managed to roll away, before the sword bit the dust. She scrambled to her feet and lunged toward the soldier. He took a step back to avoid the blade. She saw a bit of silver, before feeling a sharp pain in her stomach.

She shouted and gropped her sword. The soldier twisted the knife in her gut and pulled it out. Letting her fall to the ground with a thud. He sheathed the knife and ran off.

She gasped stuttering breaths. She couldn't feel anything. Just pain. Just a constant sense of hurt and ache. She just wanted it to end.

"It's okay. It's okay. You're going to be okay." he said, pressing his hand against the wound, "You'll be fine. Just hold on!"

Her vision started to blur. The sounds of the battle started to fade. She saw a blindingly bright setting sun. She eyes started to become heavy, as she remembered long hours on a balcony, quiet starry nights, and evening walks with Noah. "Help! Help!" He shouted. He turned to her, "Don't worry. You'll be okay. You'll be fine." His breath was as short and as ragged as hers.

She took in a sharp and shaky breath, before coughing up blood. Her throat burned, she could feel the liquid dripping down her chin. He rolled her onto her side as she continued to vomit blood.

He rolled her back when she was finished. He stared at her with desperate eyes. "Please. Please." He whispered.

She tried to give him a smile. She tried to comfort him. She wanted to sit up and hug him. She wanted to tell him everything would be okay. Just like she had all those times before. But she could't find the strength. All she could do was place her bloody hand on his.

Her wound was still bleeding. Her vision started to cloud. Breathing was hard.

"NO! Stop! Stay with me! Please, you can't go." He said. He pushed on the wound even harder. "Please. Help is coming." He said. "Just hold on. A little more."

She smiled up. Even though the pain was unbearable. Even though she could barely breath. Even though, her vision was so blurred and unfocused she could hardly see him, she wanted to make sure that he was okay.

She squeezed his hand. Took a painful, gasping breath and didn't take another one.