He smiles, the corners of his lips twitching. “Please. I’m a water wielder. Way better than the other Strengths.”
I laugh when I feel his body slump slightly. “I would suggest you roll off me unless you want my rather moody mentor to come over here and make you,” I say, trying for levity.
“Ah, would that I could, Eirabella,” he says, an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before.
I frown “What? Can you get up?”
“Sure. But, I… think I might need a minute.”
But there’s a hitch in his voice and a slight tremor. Then he shifts, and something warm and sticky drips onto my back. I run my hand through it, and the truth dawns, slow and terrifying, like a nightmare refusing to let go.
No.
“Doran?” My voice trembles, barely a whisper. He winces as he tries to move, his face pale, his breaths shallow. I slide out from under him, trying not to notice the painful grunt that shudders out of him.
I kneel by his side, my eyes washing over his body.
And my heart stutters.
An icicle the length and width of my arm has impaled him straight through his torso, crimson spreading in a pool beneath him. My breath catches, and a scream claws at my throat.
“Doran? No. No,” I whisper, rubbing my eyes as if to rub away the sight. “No, no. This isn’t happening.”
He looks up at me, eyes bright with pain but still managing a weak smile. “Well, depending on what ‘this’ is, I think you might be wrong this one time.” His voice is barely more than a whisper, each word dragging against the air, forced and pained. He tries to smile, but the expression falters as he coughs, blood staining his lips.
“No,” I choke out, shaking my head in disbelief, clutching at his shoulder as though I can hold him here through sheer will. “Doran, listen to me… you’re going to be fine. I’ll… I’ll get help.” My voice cracks as I try to stand up, desperation clawing at my throat. “Help! Someone, please! He’s hurt!” The words are loud, yet they feel small, swallowed by the battlefield, the world turning its back on us.
His hand reaches for mine, his grip weak. “No. Eira…please don’t… don’t leave me.” His gaze is steady, piercing through the fog of pain, holding me still. “Please.”
“I…I have to get some help! Ill be right back.”
He grimaces as he tries to squeeze my hand. “Please. Stay with me. I don’t want to be alone. You’re… you’re my best friend, my only true friend here… Don’t leave me. Not now. Please. Just…just sit with me for a minute ” His voice wavers, but the sincerity in his words is like a knife to my heart.
I swallow, unable to step away, not with the pleading in his tone. I sink back to the ground next to him, scared to touch him, so I just squeeze his hand. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
Relief eases the fear on his face. “Good. I…I won’t be long. I…don’t think I have long.”
“No, no, don’t talk like that!” I whisper, pressing my hand over his, feeling the life slipping from him with each second. “You’re going to make it, Doran. You’re going to be fine. We promised… remember? That we’d join each other’s cadre, whoever became Aquilith. You’re not… you’re not leaving me now.” My voice breaks, the words tumbling out, desperate, pleading.
He smiles faintly, his eyes beginning to glaze, but he’s still here, still fighting to stay with me. “Promise me, Eira. You’ll… you’ll win the trial. For me. You’ll be the best Aquilith…” His voice falters, his breathing slowing to shallow gasps. “Better… than Selene… she’s going to be so furious when she loses to the peasant.”
A strangled laugh escapes me, tears blurring my vision. “She’ll be more than furious. I should pick her for my cadre just so I can make her polish my boots and fetch my tea every morning. But you’ll be there too. You’ll see. We’ll have a grand time torturing her.” I press his hand to my heart, trying to transfer every ounce of my strength, of my will to live, into him. “You’ll be right there beside me, Doran.”
A spark of humour lights his eyes, even as they begin to dim. “I’m imagining it now… Make her get…you snacks, her favourite ones. But I wouldn’t… wouldn’t… e-eat… them. Probably…poisoned,” he gasps, the words barely audible. “Wish…I could be there to see it.”
“You will be!” I can’t breathe. Why isn’t there any air in my lungs? “Just hold o-on,” my voice breaks, as I watch the scarlet bloom all over his tunic. His words trail off, his eyes glazed with the last flickers of humour. I swallow a sob, my hand trembling against his cheek. “You’re going to stay, Doran. You’re going to stay, and you’ll help me torture her!
He smiles faintly, his eyes beginning to glaze, but he’s still here, still fighting to stay with me. “Promise me, Eira. You’ll… you’ll find… Penalynn. Tell her I’m sorry. I wanted… I wanted to make the world safer for her. For us. That’s why… why I couldn’t ask her before…” He trails off, the pain flickering in his eyes matched only by the regret carved into his voice. A faint, heartbreaking smile touches his lips. “In my top drawer… there’s a box. It’s hers. Please… tell her… tell her she was always the one.”
“You are going to tell her yourself! Falon is going to make everything alright, and then I’m going to go with you to Brewer Falls and watch you get down on one knee and ask that girl to marry you once and for all!”
He frowns, fingers gripping my hand tighter, as if using the last of his strength. “Promise me! You need to promise me…I…I need to know…
My chest tightens, the enormity of what he’s asking hitting me like a blow. I nod, tears blurring my vision as I take his hand in mine, gripping it tight. “I promise, Doran. I’ll find her. I’ll tell her everything. She’ll know how much you love her… how you’ve always loved her.” My voice cracks, the promise clinging to the air between us, fragile as glass. He lets out a sigh, his grip loosening as his strength fades, and I press his hand to my heart, feeling his pulse grow fainter with each beat. “I’ll make sure she knows, Doran. I swear it.”
As the words leave my lips, he nods, barely there, his eyes drifting shut once more, his breaths slowing. "Good… good. Thank you." He lays back down, smiling up at me. “Closer…”
I ignore my tears dripping onto his face, mingling with the trail of blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. “I’m right here.”
