The crowbar whistles by my temple. I jerk my head back and it misses me by an inch. The desperate relief doesn’t even register through the exhaustion fogging my mind. The strike I make in return, cutting up at an angle across the raider’s torso, doesn’t miss. The woman falls. As her body hits the ground, I’m suddenly furious at the waste of it. All the vibrant lives cut short today because of one provincial baron’s petty greed and spite. But he’s not the one killing farmers and blacksmiths’ sons right now, is he? I think bitterly as I spin and raise my guard again, muscles burning with the effort. So, who’s fault is it really?
Is this really justice? Are we even protecting anyone anymore?
I’m just so fucking tired.
The ground around is littered with bodies. Only a few assailants remain. I’ve lost my shield. I can’t see Kallias, but I can just make out his ragged breaths – half shouting – as he fights. We’re both flagging. He’s trying to bait them forward, but his words have lost their usual mocking bite.
…
“I don’t want to be bond-partnered with some ugly, dirt covered bog urchin!”
I blinked. The other novices stifled nervous laughs at the boy’s outburst, watching as he glared disdainfully at Master Jacobs, chin raised with the kind of defiance only a twelve-year-old can manage.
“Nevertheless, Kallias, I’m assigning you with Alexi,” the man replied calmly. “And I expect that from this point forward you will work together, train together, and trust and rely on each other as you would no one else.”
He turned to the rest of the room and raised his voice.
“All of you here have been given a duty that from now on, you are expected to uphold with honour, care, and conscientiousness. That duty is not owed to me. It is not owed to the lord-prefect or to the king. It is a duty owed to the world and to your fellow knights. None more so than your bond-partners.” All the novices held their breath, rapt by Master Jacobs’ words, myself included, so that the derisive snort from Kallias was perfectly audible as he rolled his eyes. Master Jacobs turned his head to look at him.
“If you choose to neglect that duty,” he continued evenly, “that is within your right. I cannot control your hearts and minds and will not pretend otherwise. But you will live far longer and happier lives by embracing the responsibilities you’ve been given rather than running away from them.”
With that, he turned away. Kallias walked over to stand next to me, though not so close that anyone could mistake his apparent loathing, arms crossed sullenly. I tossed him a small sparring blade.
“You know, if anyone has a right to be pissy, it’s me,” I proffered, too low for anyone else to hear. “I didn’t ask to be bond-partnered with a lazy, lice-ridden wastrel either.”
He hit me with the practice sword.
…
I hold my longsword in a cross guard, using its reach to keep the trio in front of me from closing the distance, spinning to keep them from my unprotected back. Where Kallias would be if they hadn’t swarmed and separated us.
All three lunge at once, pressing their advantage. The tallest inexpertly wields a short sword, slashing at my neck while the second crouches low to catch me in the ribs with a dagger that’s seen better days. He’s young. Barely more than a boy. His eyes are a stormy gray.
…
“Is that really all you’ve got, Alexi?”
Kallias danced to the edge of the ring and slouched back against the ropes, grinning and flipping the dull practice blade in his hand like he had all the time in the world. His eyes were alight with mischief, gray brightened to silver. The dusk light suited him, and it wasn’t just the exertion of sparring that made my breath hitch in my chest. He was so beautiful.
I stepped forward, sword held high at the ready and grinned back. “Come find out.”
…
I parry the blade and allow the momentum of my swing to draw me into a turn, hips and shoulders pivoting to drive my sword through the young man’s arm at the shoulder, severing it. I don’t have the wherewithal to identify the emotion that sings through me at seeing him fall to the ground screaming. The third, a stocky man, cuts down to slam an axe into my back and finds his blow skimming my armour with an awful metallic screech before my elbow cracks into his nose. The axe drops from his hand as he reels back.
But I’ve overextended. I’m too off balance. Despite the broken nose, half blind, he grabs my sword arm and pulls open my guard just enough, just in time, for his last remaining companion to take his opening.
…
“Come on!” Kallias pulled me by the arm through the crowd, shouting in my ear to be heard over the din. “I’m tired of being packed in like a sardine!”
We escaped the crush of people and sat on the cliffs alone, watching the fireworks from afar. I leaned against his shoulder, both of us laughing and drunk off the energy of the summer solstice festival. Drunk off the stolen bottle already half empty in Kallias’s hands too. The multicoloured bursts of light outlined the planes of his face and played in the curls of his hair, and I marveled again at how beautiful he was in the low light. I think I said it aloud. Maybe that’s why something suddenly pulled taught between us and he turned to look at me.
But when he leaned in, I pulled away and his lips brushed my cheek instead.
“Kallias…”
He raised an eyebrow, questioning and confused.
“This isn’t a good idea,” I said.
Had I not been looking away, perhaps I would have seen the hurt that flashed across his face. But when I looked up he just shrugged, easy and light, and smiled like nothing was wrong at all.
“No harm done,” he said wryly, as we turned back to the fireworks. “We’re partners until a violent death do us part. And I can’t trust anyone else to keep me in the extravagant lifestyle to which I’m accustomed.”
…
I see the blow coming but can’t raise my guard in time. I’m too slow. Too tired. And there’s no trick up my sleeve this time. I finally find Kallias in my periphery from the glint of his armour and turn my head.
Duty. Responsibility. From the moment I was dedicated, I took those things to heart in a way he never did, and was content. I molded myself into a shield, protecting the helpless and the hopeless of the world from those that would seek to harm them. And a shield doesn’t get to want anything. A shield puts themselves between those they serve and danger, without counting the cost to itself.
In that final moment, perhaps for the first time, I count the cost.
His eyes find mine. They widen in fear.
We don’t even need to speak to understand each other most days. Not anymore. More than a decade together and our shared language has become one of gestures and silent expressions. Necessary in our line of work, as often there’s no time for words.
I hope that he recognizes what I wish I could say aloud. What I should have said a long time ago.
It was always you. He would have been enough for me, and I’ll die here regretting that I never said it. Regretting that I was a coward. Regretting that we… no, that I… chose thankless, faithless duty over him. The world didn’t need all of me.
I love you. I wish we had more time.
The blade falls.
These two have my whole entire heart, and I simply cannot stop myself from imagining tragic ends for them. How much can I hurt myself in just 30-seconds of action?
Alexi has been my character in my favourite long-running ttrpg game for three years now, and I cannot express adequately how much I love my genderfluid dhampyr knight. While this isn’t a complete one to one representation from that particular campaign (it’s way more high fantasy than what’s here), but the emotions and the intensity are exactly correct. Alexi ain’t dead yet (in spite of their risk taking behaviour – it’s necessary I swear!), but if they do have to die, it better be as dramatic and heart-wrenching as this.
Blue Orchid 