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My love for him…
The feelings he stirred in me were so new, but I couldn’t deny this one steady emotion. I loved him, loved him in a way that I would have never thought imaginable.
I walked through the room, heading for the doorway. The glass display case full of daggers and swords attracted my attention, and I lifted my gaze to the short sword at the top. The beautiful gold and black design that I’d seen the last time I was in his room drew me in, as if it called to me. The familiarity of it scratched the surface of something in the back of my mind. I opened the glass door and reached up to it, running my fingers across the carvings in the metal. The symbols wrapped around the blade in gold, and the metallic crescent moon shined in the center of the intricate patterns.
The image of the same sword, dripping blood in my hand, flashed in my mind from the vivid dream of standing on that desolate battlefield. Though I hadn’t inspected it in the vision, there was no doubt this was the sword I’d held. Surely it had been a coincidence, as I’d seen this sword before I had the dream. The smell of blood and smoke remained in my mind, though, the hot night air almost fresh against my skin, as if I’d physically stood there just moments ago.
I stretched to my toes, reaching up and taking the sword in my hands, and lowered it to inspect it closer. I turned it, holding it level in front of me. The weight of the blade in my hands was overwhelming, but, oddly familiar.
“Elena.”
I turned to find Damien standing before me. His hair was half pulled back, tied out of his face and he looked almost different. Not younger, just different. A loose black tunic hung from his torso, the collar wide with the top few buttons undone. His long sleeves were rolled up to his elbows so they were out of his way, and his shirt was tucked loosely into black pants that hugged his legs down to the black leather boots.
“You’re daydreaming on me again. Come on. Let’s get back to it now,” he said, flipping his short sword backwards in his hand so the blade ran along his forearm. He stepped around me before stopping, waiting. The subtle accent I was used to was a bit stronger now, but not so strong that it affected his English. His feet slid apart as he settled into a stance.
Stone walls surrounded us, mountains barely peeking above them in the distance. The ground was barren dirt beneath our feet, having been stomped free of any vegetation from the endless traffic of people long ago. Old wooden houses stood nearby, nestled closely together. The faint smell of smoke from nearby fire pits and torches reached my nose. People came into view in the distance, men and women walking together around the houses to where I couldn’t see. The women wore the most beautiful gowns, their arms laced with the person they accompanied.
I looked down at my hands, skin pale, covered in dirt and sweat from hours of training, dirt lingering beneath my nails. A thick, pale, blonde braid hung over my shoulder, reaching down to my ribs, and I was clad in black attire similar to Damien’s.
“Pay attention, Elena!” came Damien’s voice as he stepped forward, flipping the sword down on me.
Instinct took over, my body moving, sword rising to meet his in the air to stop his blow. He shifted, sliding the blade down before turning it to move past my block. I dodged and stepped back as he advanced, shifting, moving the blade to deflect each advance he made. The sound of metal ringing with each swing echoed throughout the training yard as we danced. Blades bounced off one another as we circled and evaded the blows we exchanged.
At the last step, as his blade hit mine once more, he stopped his advance. He lifted his blade from mine, lowering it to his side, and he smiled down at me. “Good, good. Your form is getting better. Let’s see if your footwork’s improved.”
He advanced again before I could think. His sword spun lithely in his hand before he swung it from the right and I parried swiftly, stepping back. “Don’t doubt yourself! Push me back, Elena!" Lucia! The two names overlapped in my mind, his voice blurring together, causing me to stumble, but I quickly recovered.
I bit my lip, shaking it off as I shifted my stance and listened to his words. My feet planted firmly in the dirt as I held my ground, absorbing the weight of his blade against my own. He’d taught me that while I was small, I could use my opponent’s strength against them. I intended to do just that, moving my blade to the side each time I blocked him, his weight behind it to causing him to falter when I released him away from me.
I tilted my sword, swinging it around to the left. He met it easily. I swung it down. He blocked. I continued, swinging wildly using everything he had taught me, but the lazy grin on his face as he blocked each move made my blood boil.
We had fought side by side for years. He’d taught me everything I knew, and my mind flew through it all, using every last bit of it to try to beat him. I stepped to the side in a rush of a spin, and I ducked under his arm. My body spun around gracefully, feet falling perfectly into step beneath me, and I rose my blade to hold it at his throat. Without so much as turning to me, he flipped the sword in his hand. Our blades met before I could reach him.
The unbridled strength he harbored as he held the sword where others would have no leverage, made my cheeks burn. He made it look so effortless to stave off my attacks. I panted, tired and worn, and my hands quivered as I gripped the hilt of my sword. No matter how hard I worked, I couldn’t best him. I yelled as I stepped to swing again.
“Cas?”
I whipped around at the voice behind me, reacting with my sword, the fresh adrenaline fueling me as I swung the sword into my new opponent.
Damien caught the blade in his hand before it could hit him. I froze, chest heaving as our eyes met. He braced the blade; he was shirtless before me, loose sweats hanging around his hips. My eyes darted everywhere, the smell of smoke and earth fading away, overtaken by the rich musk scent of Damien’s room. I look back over my shoulder to look for the Damien who’d I’d been training with. He was gone.
We were no longer surrounded by the stone walls, or the wooden carts, loaded with supplies for the battles to come. I was standing in Damien’s room. My eyes fell, looking down at myself to see my small frame, dressed in his clothes, bare feet against the cold wood floor.
I stared into his eyes, struggling to think straight before I realized what was happening. I gasped as blood rolled down the length of the blade from where he caught it. It dripped to the floor, and I shrunk back, the handle slipping from my hands.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry, Damien! I don’t—” I stuttered as he caught the sword before it hit the ground. “I don’t know what happened. I—”
He was unflinching as he looked down at me. “What did you see?”
I couldn’t answer, and I choked on air, still coming to grips with what just happened.
“Cas?”Elena.Lucia. Damien’s voice was overshadowed with his other selves in my head, the three voices mixing and overlapping in my mind as they called me by different names. I blinked, shaking my head as I stumbled back, my hand coming to my face as my head throbbed.
“Easy.” He set the sword down before grabbing my arms to steady me. “It’s ok,mea luna. What did you see?”
I sat there a moment, the images fresh in my mind, like a memory. “We were… we were in a training yard. You and... me? I don’t know. You… you looked different.” I struggled to find words to describe the feeling, and my hands shook uncontrollably. “You were training me, and you called me by a different name.” My eyes drifted down, thinking. “You… you called me, Elena.”
I looked up to find Damien’s eyes going distant. “Moonhaven,” he muttered under his breath.
