Memory Lane (Python & Forsyth)
(For @dreamsofknighthood)
Python hates battles like this. They’ve surprised the bandits at their camp just after sunset- better to catch them relaxing and off guard during their evening meal, but the visibility for archery is shit and everything devolves into chaos all too quickly. They’ve left their horses and attacked on foot to gain the element of surprise, but he’s gotten spoiled riding all the time, grown unused to fighting on the ground- particularly without a solid presence and the long reach of a spear at his back.
He doesn’t even fully know where they are, which is a strange feeling- normally he’s at the front with the map like a decent leader is supposed to be, even if at times he’d prefer to be elsewhere. But the last village they’d stopped in had been plagued by a nasty illness, and though they’d left immediately, he’d still ended up sweating and shivering in the back of the supply wagon for the past few days. Even now, he’s wobbly on his feet, cursing under his breath as his shaky hands send an arrow flying several feet wide of its target.
He just hopes they can end this quickly.
Immersed though he is in the fight, there’s still something oddly familiar about this forest- the shape of the trees, or their smell, he can’t quite put his finger on it. But he isn’t some nature- fascinated mage who pays attention to that sort of thing, and now isn’t the time. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of a bandit with a massive beard and wild eyes swinging an axe over his head, only to pay for baring his torso with Eren’s blade between his ribs.
“You ok, boss?” she yells, the concern in her voice concealed a bit by the unpleasant sound of her yanking her sword from the man’s body.
Fuck, he must really look out of it.
For a moment he’s distracted further, not by her voice but by a flash of green- so much so that he has to dart out of the way of a sword swinging towards his bow arm. He shakes his head quickly to clear it, blames his fever and the surrounding forest for playing tricks.
He’s just seeing what he wants to see- that would be impossible.