The Unchosen Hero
The chosen stands in front of me, crying for her mother.
She’s a girl of no more than twelve. The Hierophants took her from her village. They promised it was the right thing to do.
They say she’ll save us all.
I don’t even know her name. I’m not allowed to speak to her.
We approach the castle of Avarice, the child in the lead. They gave her the Sword of Light. It’s far too large for a girl her age, and unwieldy in her hands.
They don’t care.
They don’t care that no one has taught her how to fight, or asked her if she wants to.
I, at least, was asked if I wanted to fight. I joined the Vanguard because I could. To protect my home. To protect my wife.
To save us all.
This child was given no choice. She cries all the way to the gates.
The battle between Avarice and the chosen is swift. It cuts her down with barely a glance. The girl crumples into a bloodied heap before this colossal being of rage and darkness.
The Hierophants scatter once their chosen falls.
I linger in the hall. The Sword of Light has fallen from the girl’s hand, and rolled toward me. I have no illusions of destiny or fate. I am no hero. I’m just a woman and a soldier.
But I will not let this child die in vain.
I should never have let her die at all.
I was supposed to protect her.
I take up the sword. Avarice has turned its back on me, insignificant as I am. I plunge the sword into it.
The world explodes in excruciating pain, but I know it’s only for me.
I have saved us all.
I pray my wife forgives me.
She’s a girl of no more than twelve. The Hierophants took her from her village. They promised it was the right thing to do.
They say she’ll save us all.
I don’t even know her name. I’m not allowed to speak to her.
We approach the castle of Avarice, the child in the lead. They gave her the Sword of Light. It’s far too large for a girl her age, and unwieldy in her hands.
They don’t care.
They don’t care that no one has taught her how to fight, or asked her if she wants to.
I, at least, was asked if I wanted to fight. I joined the Vanguard because I could. To protect my home. To protect my wife.
To save us all.
This child was given no choice. She cries all the way to the gates.
The battle between Avarice and the chosen is swift. It cuts her down with barely a glance. The girl crumples into a bloodied heap before this colossal being of rage and darkness.
The Hierophants scatter once their chosen falls.
I linger in the hall. The Sword of Light has fallen from the girl’s hand, and rolled toward me. I have no illusions of destiny or fate. I am no hero. I’m just a woman and a soldier.
But I will not let this child die in vain.
I should never have let her die at all.
I was supposed to protect her.
I take up the sword. Avarice has turned its back on me, insignificant as I am. I plunge the sword into it.
The world explodes in excruciating pain, but I know it’s only for me.
I have saved us all.
I pray my wife forgives me.
Originally written for Queer Sci Fi's Eighth Annual Flash Fiction Contest