it was the worst day of my life.
we had been delved deep in battle for almost 12 hours, with no end in sight as each enemy we cut down seemed to multiply by a thousand. the king saw our doom foreshadowed, and wished to give his people one last chance of survival. ordering a retreat, i was in position to clear the area as everyone fell back as ordered. i fought hard, cutting down as many enemies as i could, but this last one was tough. knocking me to the ground, i knew in that instant that i was dead. but then he fell down next to me, and i looked up to see my france standing over me, offering his hand. jumping up, i gave him a quick peck on the cheek as a thank you before the next group of attackers came upon us. jumping eagerly to fend them off, i swung my blade with the keen skill of the finest elves. with the soldiers of the king retreated, i turned to my man, yelling that we had to go.
that was when my heart stopped beating.
i watched in horror as the scene before me played out in slow motion. turning to run towards me, an enemy we thought had been cut down stood up, raising his blade above his head and bringing it down hard. i screamed, gaining the attention of the king as i rushed to make sure the enemy was cut down this time. my fiancé was on his knees, a stunned look on his face. kneeling next to him, i pulled him into my arms as he stared up at me, his eyes cold and unfeeling. i cried out in anguish, cursing the gods for this fate in my grief. my brother appeared next to me, trying to pull me away. i wanted to die right there, and tried to launch myself at the coming horde in a suicide attack, but my brother would not let me. he dragged me away from the battle as my tirade of grief continued. i was numb, i was cold, i felt nothing but pain, i felt nothing but emptiness.
surely, a knife pierced my heart that day.
and i doubted i would ever recover.......