So, this was an interesting theme because there were so many different ways I could portray it. Originally, I thought I would just go the traditional route and write the beginning of a “boy meets girl and they fall in love” type story. But that was boring. So instead I took a sentence from something a friend of mine wrote and used that as inspiration for the story. So…it’s doubly themed. 😉 I just titled it the sentence that I used…because I’m lazy, haha.
The blood falling to the ground from your friend’s throat, bubbling with the last breaths of the life he gave for you.
It all seemed surreal. Fake. As if I wasn’t really there. I could feel the sweat make its way down my brow. My sword felt lifeless in my hand. Somehow it was heavy yet weightless. I swung it through the air without thinking. Expertise was in every stroke. Years of training floated away. A lifetime of planning seemed to vanish. Now it was just me. In a war.
I hardly noticed anything but the man that I had engaged in combat. He was a good swordsman. His sword came down strong on mine. It caused my arms to shake more than once. His eyes were cold as he glared at me. I could see his chest heave with great breaths as he grew more wary. He was a great swordsman, perhaps. But I was greater.
I began to congratulate myself on my advanced fighting skills. My mind drifted from the battle to other thoughts. Women could fight. I was going to prove them wrong. Today, I would be the first girl to have fought in a battle. I would be a legend. Someone told about in stories.
The battle became foggy as I sunk further into thoughts of fame. My sword strikes began to fall short. Breathing grew more heavy. Arms grew more weak. I soon found that my enemy seemed to be growing in strength. He grinned at me and his lips moved with the words of a taunt. I glared back at him. For a moment, I took my eyes off his sword to stare into his eyes.
I barely caught a glance of his sword. It flashed brightly in the sunlight as it slipped expertly pass my defense. I took in a breath. Then I was on the ground. My body was shoved out of the way of the fatal strike and another took my place.
My eyes widened as they watched. The sword of the evil man plunged into the chest of a young soldier. The tip protruded from the other side of his body. Slowly, tears slipped down the boy’s cheeks. Blood trickled from his mouth that opened in a silent scream.
I looked away at that moment, unable to see much more. I would never be able to forget that boy. I had never spoken to him. I had never seen his face before. And yet, for what reason I am not sure, he gave his life to save mine.