The Giant Slayer's Tale

This is my day in a nutshell. I wake up in my family's fortified panic house. I wash my face in a small basin of cool water we collect from an uncontaminated stream. I eat breakfast, which is whatever we have preserved in our cold box. Then I dawn my armor, which makes me fleet on my feet.

Hmm, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. Perhaps I should give you all a little background, for if you're reading this you are in a far better time for humanity as a whole. Before I overwhelm you with my story, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Theodore Sciara, and I slay Giants

Now I know what you're thinking. That I must be dreaming, because Giants can't possibly be real. Well they are really real and really terrifying, and that's coming from me. Someone who has been killing them off for a little over a decade. Now you might be asking; Don't Giants resemble humans on a larger scale?

Yes, and no. Legends depict Giants as humanoid, but those legends are full of it. Despite the legends on popular depictions you may have seen in the media, these monsters are skeletal beings with glowing red eyes and long, sharp talons. And an unhealthy obsession with fire which I could never understand. Some use fire magic while others throw explosives or torches.

My little sister Amada studies magic herself to use against them and she is as fierce a warrior as I am. Though I want to protect her, I know I can't keep her from the battle forever. She is one of the elite warriors and we need every fighter we can get.

My fireproof armor is equipped. My shield with an intricate design of twin pegasi gliding under a rainbow is coated in soot. My quiver with arrows infused with magic my sister made especially for me is running low. I keep extra arrows on a particle board shelf above my bed.

"Theodore, what's taking you so long?" My sister enters, the lust for battle glittering in her brilliant emerald green eyes. I don't answer her right away as I'm watching the scene of destruction behind her. Houses and various other buildings burning ferociously. Other buildings and vehicles crushed or thrown. People fleeing in terror, many fighting bravely. "Well?" Amada demands, hands sweeping wide in impatience.

"Sheesh. I'm coming Amy."

"Don't call me Amy."

"Well, I think it's pretty."

"You would. Are you going to join me or what?"

Suddenly, there is a thunderous scraping outside as the neighbor's house is flattened. It shakes me to the core and a brief flash of uncertainty graces Amada's face and it's gone the next instant, but I caught it.

"Amada, what are you not telling me?" I ask concerned.

Amada blinks at me, then her face morphs into that of a fierce warrior. "We have a battle to get to." She says rather abrupt and stiff, then turns to leave.

I jump from my bed and race after her into battle, feeling unnerved about the chink in my sister's armor, so to speak. She has never, ever let me see her fear even though I'm her brother. I've always known she's scared however, because I hide my emotions the same way. We're both fighters. Warriors. We close our true selves away in order to always move forward as a united force. I don't have any other options but to follow my little sister into the fray, only to find her running from the chaos when she had always run towards it.

When I finally catch up to her-she has always ran faster than me-she's panting and she looks to be near tears, but she's smiling. The widest smile I've seen on her face in a long, long time. It's only then I realize we're standing under a clear blue sky, mirroring Amada's clear and carefree face, and blissful silence envelops us.

I look at my sister in shock. "Where did you take us Amada?" I'm skeptical yet smiling. Amada is laughing with her whole being and that kind of laughter is contagious. The atmosphere is so relaxing and peaceful that I nearly forget the clash of battle and the stench of death we left behind.

"Seriously, though sis," I get out between uncontrollable bouts of laughter. "Where are we?"

Amada hesitates clearly trying to carefully choose her words though she's still giggling. "Looks like paradise. You know I thought we could use a vacation."

I'm certain she's not being completely honest, but she does make a fair point. We've more than earned some relaxation. Of course, that statement applies to many of the warriors. Now I feel a little bad leaving them to fend off the Giants without two of the Elite, but I have faith they can manage. Besides, my curiosity cannot be dampened. "How did you find this place Amada?"

"Actually, I've been meaning to tell you Theo, but I've been studying Dimensional magic. A type of magic the Giants have no clue about. This is a Dimension of could've beens, or a heaven on Earth sort of thing."

I start to feel unnerved at her explanation. Suddenly an eeriness started to wash over this pure and clean scenery, or is that just me? Furthermore, Amada never calls me Theo unless she has bad news.

"Theo, are you still listening?"

There it is again. Theo. That name always fills me with dread. I nod my head silently, knowing I shouldn't speak now.

"This place is where we would be if the Giants never came and ravaged the fruits of humanity. I myself am now a could've been. The body you behold before you is nothing more than an image of what was lost. I'm dead Theo."

Amada tells me all this so calmly that I thought surely this must be some sick prank. But she used that name. The name she only uses when she's deadly serious. Then I know she's not messing with me. How could I think for a second she is? She knows this hurts me. Hurts me more than getting impaled a thousand times over. It feels like my heart is twisting and tearing apart at the seams, and then burst. When I dare to look at her, the most serious look that has ever graced her face is being directed at me, and all the traces of laughter from a few minutes ago has vanished.

She's dead. Amada is truly dead. The weight of the truth presses heavily on my shoulders and weighs me down. I fall on my knees, dropping my shield that she had always been jealous of in life. It rolls to her like it was drawn to her by some force and she stops it with her foot.

Amada picks up the shield delicately, and traces her finger over the rainbow. "Get up Theodore. You need to stand and be strong now, and don't look so sad. The Giants are attracted to and feed off misery. Your journey will continue on though I won't be with you."

I look at her through tear filled eyes, her image blurry. Yet her fierce and reassuring face reenergizes me. She brushes more dust and soot off my

our

shield and forces it back into my hands. "Go now, brother. Go be the greatest Giant Slayer of our time. Of all time." With that warm decree I am promptly shoved back theough the invisible barrier. Back to the torrent of battle. I look behind me, long enough to see Amada's image fade into sweet serenity.

The portal or whatever spits me out in my home dimension. I assume that's what it would be called in laymen terms. I mindlessly roam the familiar streets, as the battle is over for today. The bodies are piled high, and I would feel worse for leaving if I'm not already emotionally numb. It's a shame, so much collateral damage.

I continue my walk down the streets, my booted feet sinking in rivers of blood. I skirt around a fallen Giant, totally on autopilot. The stench of charred flesh fills my nostrils. I arrive to where the Giant's skeletal hands should've been but are now only emaciated stumps. As I further examine the Giant's ravaged corpse, I notice a small, human hand clutching a bloodied and sooty broad sword. The small hand is wrapped in leather. My heart twists. I know a lot of female fighters wrap their hands to keep them smooth and supple, but something feels off. Then I put two and two together.

"Amada! Please, someone help me!" As I'm shouting-no, beseeching-for someone to help me I remove Amada's broad sword from her dead fingers I know there is obviously no saving her. My throat closes and my heart pauses at the thought of Amada being gone forever. I'm staring ruefully at the broad sword, and I feel a light tap on my shoulder. When I turn, I'm staring into the sorrowful face of my best friend Devon McCullen.

Amada and Devon never got along. She was always claiming he's far to reckless and rushes into things instead of planning, while he was always complaining she's too stiff and boring. I was always the middle man, and they never asked me to choose sides. Really I could never choose between them, but I guess fate, chance, or whatever chose for me in the worst possible way.

"You know I never liked her much, but I never wanted her dead." There is a pause as Devon sniffles, gearing up to speak some more. I listen, neither of us quite having the ability to maintain eye contact. Devon is fixedly staring at Amada's limp and lifeless hand cradled in my own. "Her left leg was broken, and I wanted to protect her. Before I could even do anything, she had hacked the Giant's hands and feet clean off. I saw the danger as it's body was collapsing, and I tried to pull her well out of the way, but at the absolute last second she saved me from oncoming death."

Before I could react to the horrible words he just said, he embraces me. It's a bit awkward because of all the clanking armor. In this society we all love openly and deeply, because we've all learned not to take eachother for granted. So we treasure all of our relationships of any type because we might not get tomorrow. Right now, we both need the support that only brothers in arms could offer to each other.

"I'm sorry Theodore. I tried, I really did-"

I cut him off before he could utter more nonsense. "You were there for her. You saw her die. That couldn't have been easy. Amada wouldn't want you blaming yourself, and I don't want that for you either. Now help me remove the Giant's arm, so we can give her a proper funeral."

The huge bones crack and snap like explosions as Devon and I remove the arm off Amada's corpse. I carelessly toss the limb to the side and Devon helps me lift the body of my sister away from the battlegrounds. Our war torn streets.

We sit down under Amada's favorite willow tree and I lay her head on my lap and weep. I stroke the once smooth and silky brunette hair, now matted with blood and ichor. Her bright emerald green eyes are now closed and vacant of the beautiful soul that once dwelled there. My tears are now dripping onto her unresponsive face. What am I going to tell my crippled parents? When? Would they blame me? Devon?

Then, by some miracle her eyes shoot open. Devon jumps back comically and my hand twitches in surprise.

Amada opens her mouth to speak, her words only faint whispers. She grasps our shield in shaking and weak hands and whispers more unintelligible words. It must be some magic language I never got the hang of. Now her grip goes slack, and Devon grabs the shield while I hold her hand as she slips away again. I lean down to kiss her forehead, then her cheek, feeling as though I'll never move from this spot.