My steps were almost inaudible as I swiftly ran alone toward an attack close by. I could hear the high, eerie shrieks of the demons as they no doubt clawed at their target. I ran faster, grateful for my athletic build. I wish I could fly there—whoever the victim was really needed help. It was as though there were many of them; the unfortunate soul being ambushed must be extremely powerful.

As I arrived on the attack, I kept my bow at the ready. My heart sank as I realized that there were thousands here, and even more could’ve been lurking in the shadows just waiting to emerge. How could I fight them off? How could anyone?

I searched for the demons’ target through the chaos and saw Anya. Though she was bloody and intensely injured, she fought on. A deep, red gash ran along her torso—much too deep to be healthy.

“Anya!” I yelled; what a big mistake that was, too. The demons turned, and their flight was directed toward me now, as well as toward Anya. I succeeded in skillfully shooting twenty of them in a row with my arrows as I fought and stumbled my way to her side. She was in her centaur form, so her white body was tall and easy to spot in the dim light.

“Lance! Be careful. There are too many to fight alone,” she called to me with urgency as she killed ten, kicking with her hind legs. I reached her and stood by to help protect her as best I could, though it was hard to stand my ground while shooting and dodging. “Don’t let your guard down, this is more dangerous than anything you’ve faced in battle training. Go take care of the band of them on the other side, I can manage them here.”


I knew she was right, so without protest or hesitation, I sped away.

The demons snapped and scratched at me. Each faceless spirit had long sharp claws that cut like daggers, and their wings were lacerated at the ends as if a thousand knives had shred them. As I sent my arrow ripping through one, another had managed to sink its razor-like nails into my shoulder. I sank to the ground but didn’t stay there for long—I was going to finish this.

During the fight, I had lost track of Anya’s struggle, but together we managed to either frighten the beasts away or send them to their death—or wherever it was they went.

Then I ran to her; she was lying on the ground—once again in her mortal form. Blood was flowing from her with threatening speed and blanketing the ground surrounding her. Anya couldn’t speak; she could barely breathe, and I knew I was losing her. Her body was extremely damaged: a broken arm, what seemed like broken ribs, and even a finger was twisted in a way that it shouldn’t be. Her chest rose and fell at a harsh pace, and I could barely hear her shallow exhaling. I held her close to me and tried to keep her conscious. Losing her would be too much to bear; Anya has been my best friend.

I looked at her; her skin was corpse-like, and her fiery red hair was faded—like a flickering candle flame about to burn out.

I held her ever more tightly as if I were trying to hold her together, even though I, too, was weak, and I could smell the sweat and feel the sticky blood in my shaggy hair. I was desperate to fix the broken—to keep the life from escaping her body. She could feel my body shake with tears, and I knew it, but I couldn’t help myself. This was the first time I’d cried since I was a babe; it was so unfamiliar that I couldn’t control it.

As we sat hopelessly on the forest floor, the sun began to set, and the clouds, even at this time of day, seemed more ominous than ever. I heard the birds in the trees around us settle themselves, and they began to sing.

At first, I couldn’t recognize the melody. It was high and soft, but also sweet and sad. Suddenly, I was once again standing on the outside of a burning building—looking through the eyes of a thirteen-year-old boy. Then I saw my young-self, running, soon stopping to rest against a tree. Birds were all around me and singing an enchanting tune—the tune I heard as I now held Anya.

As the memory floated away, the song wove itself through the trees that now too seemed to be drooping with sorrow.

“Can you hear them?” My voice was cheerless and pitiful, pleading her to stay with me, “The songbirds, they’re singing for you. It’s magnificent.”
All she could manage in response was a small groan, but just knowing she was alive meant the world to me.

Suddenly, a bird swooped down and gently placed an unfamiliar, amber-colored flower on the crown of Anya’s head.

Anya’s tresses slowly changed back to its vibrant red color. There was a new glow in her face; she looked perfectly whole. Then the brilliance spread onto her shoulders and throughout the rest of her body. It was breathtaking; she was almost completely healed, and just as the light reached her ankles, she began to ascend.

As she rose, the fallen leaves from the new autumn trees began to swirl around her until a gentle cyclone was engulfing her.

Soon, the leaves slowly sank to the earth, the dark clouds began to disperse, and Anya was glowing. Not only aglow from the magic of the flower, but also with the rosy dusk that stained everything it touched with its beauty. Her hair had found its way into a flawless braid down her back, and every inch of her was perfectly restored.

I caught Anya’s petite frame as she descended, and I helped her to steady herself. The first thing I did was hug her tightly. We smiled and laughed and cried tears of joy at the fact that we were both safe. I couldn’t recall a happier moment in my life, and through all of this, the songbirds had never once paused their melody.

Just as they reached the end of their song, the sun inched nearer to its destination. The light was fading more quickly than before, and just as the blushing sunset disappeared over the horizon…

I kissed her.

For both of us, it was a surprise, but a welcome surprise. It was sweet and loving, and as her lips mingled with mine, I knew, without a doubt in my mind, I couldn’t be without her.