Chapter 1
Will Be
The Tiffer spâtètie circled overhead, raining arrows down on the Ossory soldiers. The arrows embedded themselves in soldier after soldier. Cries of pain and the clashing of swords were all Fi-Rico and Qi-Calla could hear.
Fi-Rico watched as an arrow descended from the Pegasus above, straight towards Qi-Calla. He called out a warning to Qi-Calla. He raised his shield to protect himself from the falling arrow, and he left the rest of his body unguarded. Before Fi-Rico could shout out another warning to him, it was too late.
The Tiffer soldier thrust, stabbing Qi-Calla in the gut. The leather armour he wore did nothing to protect him from the strong hit. The Tiffer soldier immediately pulled his sword free, allowing the wound to bleed. Qi-Calla fell to the ground with a cry of pain in a limp, bloody mess. His breathing came in quick rasps.
Fi-Rico let forth a cry of pure rage. He let go of all regard for his life. In his state of anger he did something reckless. Fi-Rico swung his sword in one short, deadly arc. His sword slashed through the throat of the Tiffer soldier. The boy died instantly. With no time to cry out in pain, surprise, or anger, Another life is wasted. Another boy will now be nothing more than a memory. At least it had been a quick death.
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Fi-Rico fell to his knees next to Qi-Calla, allowing his sword and shield to clatter to the ground. He cradled Qi-Calla’s head in his lap. Qi-Calla groaned in pain. His blood was seeping through his useless leather armour, staining the brown grass beneath him a deep, painful red. The wound was deep. Too deep. The sword had almost pierced all the way through him, allowing a horrible view of the inner workings of a human.
Qi-Calla was pale; all the normal colour in his cheeks was gone, and his eyes had lost their normal glint of joy. The small smile that normally rested on his lips was gone. Fi-Rico whispered in a voice of grief, “Tam su feem en gi adro. Ga umu turema, turema.” You are all right, my love. I am here, here. He trailed off at the end as the reality of the situation set in. Qi-Calla was far from all right.
Qi-Calla grasped Fi-Rico’s hand. His grip was weak, and his hand was shaking. His face was contorted with pain. Fi-Rico was crying, his tears rolling down his face, joining Qi-Calla’s blood in the dead grass. Fi-Rico’s shirt was stained with Qi-Calla’s blood. His yellow pants were crimson.
“I will get a medic,” Fi-Rico said through the tears half-heartedly. “You will survive this.” There was no conviction or truth behind the words.
“Do not leave me,” Calla groaned, her voice riddled with pain and sorrow. “Please do not let me die alone.” The battle made his last words almost impossible to hear, but Fi-Rico was so close he heard every syllable, “Look for me in the stars tonight, Gi Adro." My love.