Glenn furrowed his brow, struck by a sudden wrongness the moment that the dagger dropped. They were enemies. Friends, once, but enemies; she’d lashed out at him with a crossbow and knife both, and he’d responded in kind. He’d dropped his guard more than once, yes, but not for a moment did he believe that they could walk away from this with their bond of friendship intact.
So then, why? Why was she so upset at his wound when she was fighting for a kingdom? She had the hope of everyone from pauper to nobility resting on her shoulders, and she’d squared them and told him to his face that she was willing to fight him for the sake of her people, to bring back the Grandleon and end this fool’s errand of a war (as if she could)?
It dug at his heart. At the end of the day, princess or not, she was a human being. One with a conscious, one who does not kill lightly or easily, and one who has not lost the spark of kindness and love for other people that would one day make her a fine leader. She truly didn’t want to kill him, he realized, some part of the hollow feeling in his chest dissipating for the first time in years. She cared. Even now, she cared. But he couldn’t afford to let his concentration falter after paying the toll for that error once already, and so he kept a close, scrutinizing watch on her as she moved.
While she scoured the cave for who-knows-what, Glenn carefully slipped the pendant into his boot, but continued holding the sword before him even with her back turned. No gaps in his guard. Not again. He heaved a shaking sigh and pressed his free hand to his bloody chest, letting magic pour from the gemstone at his neck down to his fingertips and then into his wound. “I’m fine,” he bit out, though he could still barely think through the pain. “I’m not going to bleed out. Your strike was impressive, but not quite impressive enough to finish me. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
As Maria searched, he kept a careful eye on her, ready to launch into combat at a moment’s notice, but no. It was not sudden dash toward her dagger that made his blood run cold, nothing of the sort; rather, it was the fact that she was toeing dangerously close to the illusory ‘wall’ at the back of the cave. If she were to touch it, she would realize nothing was there. She could tread further into the cave.
She could find the sword.
Desperate for an immediate distraction, Glenn jumped to his feet, wincing at the sting in his ankle more than the dull throbbing wound in his chest, and deftly tossed his sword into the appropriate hand before levelling it at Maria’s neck. “Now,” he said breathlessly, attempting to school his nervous expression into neutrality and failing at it, “back to business. I believe you were trying to kill me?”
The princess of Guardia had a look of relief on her face when she saw that Glenn wasn’t too brutally injured. She would always care for others regardless if they were a noble or a poor beggar on the street. Then she felt that terrible pulse of dark magic in the air. What in the world was that? Where was it coming from? It sent a chill down her spine and she shuddered for a moment trying to get to her feet and that was when she noticed the blade at her neck.
Maria slowly lifted her head up. Face to face with a blade at her neck. She did not even resist the urge to pick up her dagger which was laying beside her. Her fingers slowly etched at the small blade beside her, for a moment she wanted to pick it up, to strike back, but she knew if she kept fighting one of them would meet a terrible fate and she couldn’t think to fight her friend, her comrade, her protector any more. She was ready to die here. This mission didn’t matter any more, nothing did.
She looked at her once noble squire of Guardia ready to strike her down in one swing of his sword. Her heart was swelling with pain seeing him like this. She caught a glimpse of the red gemstone around his neck. It was pulsing with such terrible magic.
“I won’t stop you from ending my life, Glenn,” She told him. “We are enemies after all…I thought I could bring you home, but this is the path we’ve both chosen. I will not stop you any more.” Her head held up high despite the fact that her entire body was shaking. “If you truly wish to strike me, go ahead.” She replied defiantly as a tear slid down her cheek. She looked at her former friend.
Glenn froze. This… He hadn’t anticipated this.
His sword pointed at her neck, she stared at him with an absurd confidence for someone who had resigned themselves to death. He felt like she was looking through him, like he wasn’t even truly there at all. The false wall just a few short paces behind her, Grand and Leon patiently waiting to be challenged, and he could not let her pass. He could only keep them from overtly challenging her if she was kept away from the sword; if, at any point, the challenge began and Maria lived through it, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to keep her from taking the sword.
Magus had given him one job, one role to play in this farce, and he couldn’t stomach the thought of what failure could mean. For him, for Magus, for the world itself.
He gritted his teeth, mouth dry and throat tight. He didn’t want to kill her. He shouldn’t have to. He didn’t want to leave his King and Queen without an heir, without their child. He didn’t want to hurt one of the precious few people who he could say truly cared about him. All he wanted was for her to leave…and she wouldn’t.
“I…” he began, words dying in his chest. What was there to say? His sword hand trembled. All there was left was to drive his sword downward and be done with this. To put it behind him for the sake of humanity and the earth’s future.
Damn it all. He couldn’t. He tried, and he couldn’t. Cyrus was right about him, had been right about everything he’d ever said. From when he’d placed a hand on Glenn’s head and called him “too soft”, to when he’d carved the scar that still stretched across Glenn’s face and called him a “traitorous coward”. No matter where he went, or what path he took, he would always be foolish and weak. Always.
He lowered his sword. “There is no place for me in Guardia. And even if there were… I am here with good reason. I am not aiding the Fiendlord because I want bloodshed or war. I don’t, and neither does he. I do not wish to see you harmed, Maria, so please…just leave. This will not help you, will not help your kingdom! The best course of action you could take for your people is to allow Magus to do what must be done so that this cursed war can finally be over with! I know my word must be less than dirt now, but please, if you can trust the promises of your enemy once, just this once…believe me.”
It was all he could say without divulging the whole truth. He doubted it would be enough. But he had to hope; hope that she would allow him to spare her, hope that she wouldn’t accidentally begin that ridiculous “hero’s trial”. Hope was all he had anymore, after all.
