Julius looms above me, his sword held high. But my eyes are only on Lachlan. His mouth opens in a silent scream as he stares at me. Fear and horror contorting his features. The whites of his eyes swallowing the green I loveso much.
Get up.
Time crawls.
Lachlan falls to his stomach, crawling over the bodies of the slain. All the while screaming my name. My eyes flick up to Julius, who looks down at me.
A triumphant smile blazes across his face, his sword lowering in an arc meant to decapitate me.
“Key. Get up!” Lachlan screams.
Still scrambling over bodies, his leg dangles uselessly behind him. His silver armor dented and drenched in blood. His eyes seem otherworldly in the flames that spew through a hole in the ceiling as stones and dust rain down from above.
Is this it? Is this the end?
My life seems to play out in a carousel of images.
My parents loving faces as they teach me about honor and duty, the importance of love and kindness.
Lachlan’s charming smile, whispering words of love, and our dreams of the future.
Mathilda and Mina, the kind friends I had dreamt of my whole life. Evander’s contagious laugh, and Tane’s dance moves.
My hopes and dreams of a better world.
All the people that I would lose if I let this monster win.
I can not allow Julius to reign.
Time resumes and I flip onto my back, holding my sword above my head.
His sword crashes down upon mine, locking them against each other.
He leans down over me, pushing against my sword with all his might.
My entire body tenses, and my muscles flex so tightly that I wonder if they might snap.
The marble is hard and unforgiving underneath me. My armor whines as it screeches across it.
“You. Will. Die.” He grits out, still pushing his sword—his entire body against mine. “The prophecy said you would.”
I shove, thrusting with everything I have as Lachlan’s words fill my ears.
“FIGHT LENA!”
My skin tingles and light flares from me. A gust of wind pushes him back and I twist. Scrambling out from underneath him. He falls where my body was.
His face twists into confusion, but I jab.
Punching him right in the mouth.
“The prophecy was unclear.”
His eyes darken, madness overtaking him as a maniacal grin spreads his lips. An iridescent red coats his teeth and he spits the blood onto the ground.
He laughs, a crow’s laugh as he stands, facing me.
Behind him, I see Lachlan make his way to his feet. The magic here already healing the wound in his thigh as he stares at me. “Finish this,” he mouths.
