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It’s almost as if life and I have a game going on where neither of us wins because I always pull out some unexpected move and the universe takes something away from me. I thought that since I was taking all of the signs I was given- messages written in blood on my mirrors, images in my finished tea leaves, the very funny (not) Google articles pushed my way that is seemingly unconnected until I realized that if I read the first word of every article title down the list I get a sentence (thank goodness that when we were stationed here, they gave us a cell tower that connected to the internet)- that maybe the universe was being kind and not wanting me to feel guilt.
Yet here I am, watching my accomplice die in a pool of blood after a particularly difficult battle. She got in the way of my cut, using a sword that when making contact would burn your insides, and now is laying on the damp dirt with her intestines falling out of the giant hole in her body. The light had left her eyes, her time up, and it made me feel guilty.
She had asked for a week to be part of this battle, coming to the main tent in our base every morning as I was leaving to try and convince me otherwise. Her father had died in the war earlier this season, and she wanted to avenge him. He was a good man, one of my generals, and his death had been a hard one. She came with him to the war front because there was no one to care for her, and he loved her too much to have her be left alone. That did not happen according to plan.
I had finally given in after seeing her practice when I returned from battle. She had seemed like she improved, but her spacial awareness was poor. I asked the soldier who was helping her, and he said that she could never feel how close she was so she ended up either almost cutting off his neck, or not even touching him when sparring.
For an hour after I returned that night, I explained all of our strategies in a little more depth than she had known from her father. After I knew that she understood what was happening, I settled in for the night and sent her off to bed to be ready for the next day. She had smiled so brightly.
In the morning, she was sitting outside my tent ready to go. She had no armor but was wearing a couple of extra layers of clothing. I should have known that it wasn’t going to be enough. I let her come regardless.
Seeing her fight was difficult. She was so young, yet you could tell she worked hard. I saw her injure so many opposing soldiers. It was impressive. She got happy about it. So happy. At that moment she turned around to smile at me, and I smiled back. But too quickly came more soldiers, more people to hurt, to kill. Without thinking I tried to push her out of the way, but she got pushed right into the pathway of my blade by another fight, and both she and the soldier behind her got absolutely pierced, similar to a kebab.
The sun shone bright, making the blood glisten as it continued to run off her body. I had kicked the soldier who died by my sword far away, as to not let her lay with the enemy.
All I could think of, while shouts and pained cries and the birds calling each other surrounded me, were her words to me that morning.
“Just give me a chance”.