Even as the rain seemed to fall straight through their slimy leaves, we’d found shelter beneath some wobbly trees.

Had the choice been mine, we would’ve still been running. There was no safety to be found before that outpost. While Myla needed the rest, however, what’d ultimately failed us were my legs.

Whatever had cracked in my hip as I jumped from reckless heights refused me another step, and the blood on my back and neck had grown cold. Too much of it had been lost in the process, and my body no longer reset itself as it had for centuries.

For too long had I lived like a nigh-immortal, overcome with survivor’s guilt, and now, I was stuck in the fragile body of an eleven year old.

There’d been no second thought as I jumped down to those drowning kids; as I readily swam with giant murder leeches; and as I stumbled head first into a knife fight with an apex predator.

To the old me, this would’ve just been a day like a hundred others. Today, my stupidity had nearly gotten both of us killed.

You’re not a soldier anymore, Yamien…

My fingers clenched within the mud, the rain still beating down upon us. Not that I was allowed to mope about it. Not here. Not now.

“Give me that,” I said, reaching out towards where Myla sat, hunched up against the tree. She was a pale, shivering mess, not that I blamed her. The stuffed animal was still clutched against her chest, and now, she recoiled at my request.

“The gun,” I clarified, and slowly, she raised her hand as if surprised to find that she was still clutching at the firearm. I took it, switched out the magazine for the last one I had, and handed it back to her. “Use this to reach the outpost. It should only be a few hours down these tracks if the maps were accurate. You’ll be able to make it.”

“What about you?” she weakly asked, only now meeting my eyes. There was none of her usual life in them, only harrowed exhaustion.

“I…just need to rest for a bit.” I shrugged. “I’ll be right behind you.”

My proposal was as logical as her response was heroic. “Then I’m waiting here with you.”

Heroic but foolish. There was nothing she could do for me here. In my current state, I was only a liability, pulling her down and decreasing her chances of survival. I, too, had been forced to leave countless people behind over the years. All those children back there included.

It was painful, but also necessary.

It was the curse of the weak, and it would haunt me forever. I knew that. Their faces. Their screams. It would probably haunt Myla, too: the price of surviving.

Even now, she was obsessively keeping her feet away from the puddles I kneeled in, far too shallow to contain any monsters. I didn’t blame her about that either. She was still a kid through and through. Had been, at least. Before today.

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“You’ll be waiting here for quite some time then,” I said. “My legs aren’t working anymore.”

Myla looked at me for a moment.

“I…I can carry you? I’ve done it before.”

On a warmer and far sunnier evening back at Ferada-1109, Myla carrying me home from the harvest festival. I’d been crying back then, and she’d been profusely apologizing, trying to distract me by pointing towards every swaying stalk of Silka we passed by. My shoes had been missing back then too, and I’d been muddy all over.

Such an innocent memory, and looking at her now, Myla was like a different girl. She was pale, shivering, and she seemed wrung out. Her eyes were still red, and she kept constantly sniffling to keep her nose from running.

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to say that she looked weak. Despite her age, she looked like twice the hero I’d ever been.

Even so, I shook my head.

“You’ll just…” I began, but I’d already seen her face turn stubborn. The Nyamien part of me, the one who still remembered her as a friend, knew instinctively that she wouldn’t change her mind. All I could do was watch as she got to her feet, turned around, and wiggled her fingers in an invitation for me to get on her back.

Yeah, you’re definitely not a proud soldier anymore, Yamien…

𐫰 𐫰 𐫰

When I returned for a second chance at my miserable life, the heroic deeds I’d envisioned hadn’t included being carried through the pouring rain by an eleven year old girl. The grizzled veteran within me was ashamed. The young boy was just glad to have someone to rely on, if just for that fleeting moment where I clung to her neck, vision obscured by damp, autumn hair.

Some part of my exhausted mind nagged at me to stay vigilant, but my eyes wouldn’t focus no matter what I did. Even the knife I clung to was just a pathetic excuse for being useful. At best, I’d be able to buy Myla seconds to get away if something happened.

I was nothing more than dead weight pulling her down. I couldn’t even find the words to comfort her as she kept sniveling and wiping her eyes, zig zagging between murky puddles and tall grass. Even the tracks we followed were steadily getting filled up by rainwater.

“Just leave me,” I repeated for a hundredth time as I heard her breaths grow strained, but she just ignored me as she kept staggering forward, stubbornly clinging to things she couldn’t hold on to.

Foolish, but admirable, hopelessly struggling like I had for so many decades.

I let my eyelids drift shut.

“You’ll make a fine soldier as you grow older…” I quietly murmured.

I hadn’t really meant to say anything, but the words had slipped from my lips on their own; the habit of someone who’d spent too many years talking to himself.

It caused Myla to stagger and nearly fall over.

“W-what did you say?” she wheezed.

“Nothing,” I said, not wanting to distract her with my senile musings.

Still, quiet words still responded.

“…you’re the one who did the most.” So, she did hear me… “W-while I was too scared to even move, you were already doing your best to save everyone. You were really…”

“And now they’re all dead.” I faintly snorted. “So much for running around like a headless chicken, accomplishing nothing.” Decades of searching for some life I could fight for, and the moment I found it, I fucked up…

The silence between us lasted for several minutes as Myla kept staggering forward through the rain.

“If I ever get to the academy,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible, “I want to become someone who moves without hesitation like you. Who tries to save everyone even if they can’t. It was…it was really cool.”

“Don’t become someone like me,” I said. “Become someone smarter.”

I wasn’t sure if she heard me. There came some response, but I never caught it. I’d lost too much blood from the wounds on my back. I should’ve seen to it earlier, but centuries had passed since I last had to worry about my own injuries.

Even if Myla made it to outpost, I might not be alive by then.

I felt sorry for her, but there was nothing I could do.

Without my Star Forged body, I really was just a child.

A weak and helpless child.

Achievement(s) Unlocked:

> Damsel in Distress

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> Weight While Being Carried By Another Living Being:

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> -10%