The Other One

Each difficult intake of breath ached his lungs and rattled his ribs. Each labored cough he felt within his chest would cause him to wipe blood from his lips even if at first he was only imagining it. Once it was truly blood and not just saliva, the sight caused his hands to shake. He was sure he was pale like a ghost but before he could find some sort of way to cover up his discovery, he heard familiar footsteps sneaking toward his tent.

It was no other than Vasil, his favorite person in the whole wide world and the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his sick life with. But Malak knew as he quickly wiped his blood onto his pants and pinched his cheeks to return some color to his skin that they wouldn’t be able to grow old together. they didn’t have another day, he was sure of it. It was inevitable and yet, Malak had always thought she’d be strong enough for them both.

For the longest time Malak imagined that they could actually escape this training camp and run far enough away that they’d never be caught. He believed they could settle and love the way they always wanted to. The way they were meant to. He believed they’d grow grey and die in each other’s arms as a happy old couple that lived a fulfilling life of legend only they knew. He truly believed being near her was enough to keep death at bay.

But now reality was weighing him down as he turned just in time to watch his favorite person step into the light of his lantern. She had a wide grin on her face and a bottles of booze in hand. She no doubt waited until the boys in charge of the kitchen were asleep to sneak in and steal a few bottles. Captain Wey, the old grizzly bear of a man, would be furious in the morning once he discovered that yet again the troublemaker got in trouble.

As of right now, however, it was only the two of them awake. The rest of the camp was sleeping, completely unaware of the mischief Vasil wanted to get into. Not even the sky was awake to witness. Just him and his happy Vasil who had no idea his heart was aching in his tired chest. Even so, just her smile filled his heart with enough warmth to dull the pain and fear. Her smile was contagious and he too began to smile.

”How easy was it for you to get your hands on that?” Malak asked with a laugh.

Vasil yanked the cork out with her teeth on one, “not that hard,” she shrugged before taking a swig. She made a face before adding, “I had to barter some gauze and my favorite spear to Ryan but besides that, no one else saw me.”

Malak took the bottle from her and tried it for himself. The expression she made was well deserved. There was an awful bitter aftertaste that Malak would have to ignore if he wanted to get buzzed. He forced himself to swallow it down before sticking his tongue out as if the night air would make it less strong, “Ryan? He was awake?”

Vasil grabbed the bottle from him and took another big swig, only this time she refrained from making a face, “Nope, I accidently stepped on him and that woke him up.”

Malak felt an urge to cough up a lung as another sip trickled down his throat. He turned away from her and covered his face with his arm. His entire body shook with each cough that made him sound like a barking dog. Once the fit was finished, he pulled his face away to find more blood in the crook of his elbow.

“You okay?” Vasil asked from behind him, “that’s a nasty cough you got there,” he heard the swiss of liquid as she took another swig.

He heard her feet move, causing Malak to quickly whip his arm behind him and turn to face her before she could discover the truth, “I-I’m fine.”

Vasil raised a brow in response, “what is it?”

”N-Nothing,” he swallowed down the bile growing in his sore throat.

Vasil moved to stand just before him. They were sharing breath, making him feel as though he should hold in his air or else she might catch his illness. For as long as he could remember he would get these coughing fits. A constant pain would irritate his lungs but it never felt like it did tonight. Tonight he felt weak and found breathing to be harder than ever before. The wheezing sounds he made before Vasil was in his tent reminded him of the sounds he heard from his mother before she died before him.

It was how he got sent to this training camp at such a young age. He became an orphan on the streets of Calleria and shortly after got rounded up by some knights and sent here. Not soon after that, a boy was dragged by two soldiers.

Malak remembered that day like it was yesterday. He had only been at the camp for a week and already felt like his body was betraying him. He wasn’t sure he could ever stand or walk again from how weak his muscles felt from a day of constant running commanded by Captain Wey. His bones felt like they were one hit from snapping and his legs felt like they had turned to liquid. His lungs never stopped burning from then on. Each breath hurt and he found himself on the verge of a panic attack which only got worse as he saw knights in green heading in his direction.

At first, Malak thought they came back to kill him for not revealing his illness to them when they first dragged him off. But soon that fear faded once he saw the boy covered in bruises and laced in mud. Malak remembered the knights speaking angrily to Captain Wey at the same time the boy acted against reason. He had grabbed a knife from one of the knight’s belts and stabbed him hard in the boot, earning two shining black eyes and a bloodied nose.

Malak felt bad for the boy and he remembered wondering just how long the fight within him would last. Then they made eye contact and amber filled all of Malak’s vision. He was the first to look away in fear of burning but that one moment forever changed everything for them both.

So many years later and here he was standing before the same ‘boy’ who had grown into the tallest, strongest, fastest, and smartest soldier that could have ever been created in this camp. She was beyond perfect and he was below average. He was sickly and weak with low muscle mass and weak bones. They were the complete opposite yet it was never just Vasil. It was always Vasil and Malak.

Sadness crashed into Malak as he looked into her beautiful amber eyes. She was happy and just herself with only them in the tent. It took Vasil so long to find happiness in this stupid camp. She spent her first few years trying to run away. Then the rest she spent trying to be the best to prove the soldiers who called her dog wrong and to protect Malak from the other boys. He was still alive because of her but she was trapped here because of him. She would never run away after he learned her secret and they became more than just friends. It made Malak wonder what she would do in the morning, when he was most likely stiff from being dead for long enough. Would she leave or become the dog of Calleria?

Vasil’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, ”are you sure you’re okay?” She cupped his face with her hand and he leaned into her touch, “you look tired.”

Malak grasped her wrist and kept her hand on his face as he smiled up at her. He would not tell her anything. He’d rather spend his last night alive laughing and watching the stars with the woman he loved. He’d rather hold her close and have her eyes be the last thing he sees instead of crying after revealing the truth. He knew she deserved to know but it would hurt him more than dying to see her cry on his last night of life. He couldn’t bear the thought of breathing as he broke her heart with the truth. He wouldn’t even dare imagine the look on her face.

”Let’s just have a good time tonight,” he stood up on his tippy toes and kissed her, “and let’s make it really count.” She tasted of bitterness but it was still the sweetest thing he has ever had.

She smiled against his lips, “sounds good to me,” then she pulled him against her and kissed him like how he would have wanted her to kiss him for the rest of their shared life. He was kissing her like it was his last night and she was kissing him like there would be more to come.

It was cruel, Malak knew it and his heart ached because of it, but the world was by far crueler for taking him away from her so soon. In death he would mourn what they could have been because he knew they would have taken over the world. They would have been perfect and happy and free. But now, they only had one night for that. One night would have to be enough for them both.