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This is not what Claude had in mind. Strike one.
He did not expect to be attacked by both armies.
He did not expect to have his heaviest hitters retreat due to unforeseen circumstances.
Least of all, he did not expect to see a flash of wild, blond hair driving through his forces, splotches of blood and dirt coating the surface as it moves.
Claude descends from his wyvern in a panic, a state of mind that he is not accustomed to. His faith in his friend was betrayed. The trust that he established all of those years ago was gone. This made his bow feel heavy in his hand.
No time for emotions.
That does not stop his eyes from stinging as he raises his weapon to strike the boar before he got any closer.
However, the arrow is knocked away by a glowing relic.
Strike two.
This causes the Alliance leader to stop in his tracks, unable to conjure a new plan of attack. He knows what he needs to do to ensure his army’s safety.
“Retreat!” The word shocks his own system, especially as he remains still. Facing the man he thought long gone. Maybe he is.
A pupil-less blue eye shines through the dingy locks. It sees right through Claude.
“Move or be struck down.” That voice nearly knocks the wind out of the prince.
“I’m on your side.”
“I will not repeat myself.” The larger man takes a step toward the unwavering fighter.
“I won’t either.”
The boar prince knows exactly what the master tactician is doing. He cracks the scariest smile that Claude has ever seen.
“Your schemes will get you killed.”
“That won’t be on my conscience.”
An unbearably strong hand grips the archer’s throat, the palm pressing against his windpipe so hard that the tears he was holding in spill over.
Strike three.
Claude never expected to die like this.
Nothing in his journals or mental vault of predetermined fates warned him of this one.
The memories of their youth flash across his mind one last time.
A nervous laugh in response to the brunette’s casual wink. The rosy tint of fair cheeks after a long afternoon of training. A gentle pat of encouragement on the shoulder for the loser of a sparring match. A promise to beat the other next time. A firm handshake that left both of them wanting more. Longing stares before they returned to their respective quarters. Sleepless nights, plagued by visions of the other. Untold secrets. Secrets Claude desperately wanted to find out but was willing to wait because they were his secrets. They had all of the time in the world…
Now he was going to lose his life to the one person he put his trust in. The one person he was willing to wait for. A spark within him told him that Dimitri wasn’t dead all of those years. He knew he was in danger but did not know where to look or where to start.
The tears spill over faster than he can control, almost as if they were being squeezed out of him along with his life.
The blue eye’s pupil enlarges.
“Claude.”
There was no response other than a look that could shatter someone’s heart.
Long fingers uncurl from an assaulted neck.
A limp body falls but is caught before it hits the ground.
A moment of silence and stillness.
The boar panics until he hears a weak cough. Then another.
The archer lifts his head, his vision still blurry from his encounter with the afterlife.
“Your… princeliness.”
“I…”
“It’s alright.” The rasp of the foreign prince’s voice is what sends Dimitri over the edge.
He hugs the weakened body against his chest, unable to believe that this was truly happening. His quiet murmurs describe his disbelief, to which Claude combats with reassurances.
The battle around them becomes irrelevant.
Neither general notices that the Empire has retreated due to their own retainers pushing their forces back.
The curse has finally been lifted to reveal a broken little boy who lost everything.
The curse of the boy who grew up with nothing is lifted to reveal a man who was finally ready to accept someone into his heart.
“I knew you wouldn’t have done it.”
“I did not even know myself… I did not even know if you were real or-”
“I’m real and still here, thanks to you.”
“You aren’t haunting me…” The boar reflects aloud as he glances down at his old friend. He is met with a familiar but weak smile and a wink.
“I never will.”