Gold and Silver

 

I wish only for one who can fight beside me, and at night, 

when all the roars and callings of the war finally cease,

I can share my pain with him, and sleep a dreamless sleep.

I just wish for one that runs parallel to my road

Instead of simply crossing mine and leaving.

   Dust and smoke slowly faded to the ground, leaving a thin mist floating over the dead bodies.
The smell of burned hay and blood mixed into the horrifying scent of the battlefield. Chariots were pushed by soldiers, wounded men piled up with the sink of disiase, retreating to camp with the hope of being saved by the priests and doctors. Only the winners could. For the losers, a honorless execution was set by the few who remained nearly harmless from the lost battle. A blade to the neck, and by dusk, fire set to their bones, to avoid disiases from spreading.
   She pulled the sword off another fresh deadbody and wiped the mess of sweat, dust and blood off her forehead uselessly. Her breaths were heavy and the armor weight was finally felt by her sore muscles. Her lungs were crushed under iron and silver and her chest panted. Aimlessly, the swordswoman started marching across the fetid field, towards the forest, dragging her blade on the ground, not willing to sheat up the dirty blade.
  Footsteps started approaching her. She did not bother looking back to see who it was, as she already knew. A slight smile flashed by her tired features. The running ceased and a golden blooded plate glove laid on her shoulder.
   - I know you're eager to leave already, btu could have waited for me, couldn't you, Alluar?
   She let go a muffled chuckle and simply kept walking as he now walked with her. Her silver eyes met his amber glare, showing a deep gratitude for his presence.
   - Eryos, for once, just for once, I wish I could not hear their screams in my head during the night.
   - Then I will make sure you do not, my dear. Even if it means writing a song or summoning a bard.
   They kept marching toghether downhill, away from the remains of the chaos that lasted seven days. The howling of the survivors finally faded as the tree leaves shutted the sunlight away. There, it felt life was still livable, that besides the horror people place among eachother, nature was still the one true ruler of this world, and it would harbor whoever craved her arms and respected her.
   The sound of running water filled the dusking afternoon. He carried a blanket of sheep skin, which he placed near the river's shores, under a tree, over the thick grass. She slowly walked towards the water with the birth of a smile upon her lips. He rushed behind her and turned her around, grabbing her by the shoulders. He waved 'no' with his head. She indulged him with her silvery eyes. He placed his index finger upon those lips.
   He took her right hand and started pulling the strings, straps and clips that held her plate gloves in place. Grabbing the first piece of armor, he tossed it on a pile of grass on the floor. She stared at him with a tide rising under her glowing irises. He took the bracer and twisted it off as well. A stack of silver metal pieces started rising among the plants.
   She started doing the same, joining him in this slow, sweet detoxication. The white coat under her armor and the black under his were both dirty and stained in blood, earth and dust. After a week under such conditions their noses were far past getting used to the smell. She removed his armplate, shoulderplates, unstrapped his chest golden armor pieces as beside the silver pile a golden pile also grew. Two tones of chainmail fell and they stood facing eachother in simple thick stained clothing and cotton socks.
   He stepped forth and took her in his arms, kissing her with such depth and strenght as if he had not been fighting an endless war all this time, but as if he had just woke to the most beautiful morning of his life. He lifted her feet off the ground and as they embraced they stubled downhill and into the river.
   Both fell on the chilling water, soaking to their bones. When they emerged, laughter bursted off their lips and they swimmed towards eachother, hugging. She reached down and took off her boots, throwing them to the shore, and he followed. His fingers ran up her neck and under her hair in an endless caress of two people setting themselves free from the burden of battle and blood. She kissed him back and laughed, untieing his robe and at last undressing him. She stole the robe and swam away witht he speed of a mermaid, leaving him nude and confused.
   She removed her own robe and dived under the water, scratching the clothes on a flat stone. A dark cloud of a brown tone oozed from the tissues and all the stains faded. She ran to the shore once more and hanged the outfits on a low tree branch. He just laughed and smiled, completely amused by the beauty of that unbreakable sylphide. Her gorgeous curves and skin shined under the twilight's glow due to the water. She jumped back into the water and every tought fled his head. All he wished for was her, and he knew she was his tonight. The untamable fury they both had in heart was soothed and their muscles were renewed by the cold cleansing bath. Her white, grayish hair floated in the water like gravity was unexistant as she moved towards him. Their lips met once more.

   - What is this we do, Alluar? - He asked, as the sun calmly started shining across the tree canopies, forming curtains of white dust and light. He held her in his arms, his rough hands on her back as they both rested upon the blanked after the long loving night.
   - Does it matter what it is, my dear, my friend? We fight on this long battle until the day it takes the best out of us, until the day we for once lose. For now what matters is we fight, and we fight honrably, as this is our calling from this life. Someday the reaper shall come for us, and I will take his hand into the outer world, for I will know he will not come before our work is done. Meanwhile we give him others to reap and enjoy the peace we have after the fights and during the times of truce. Is it not enough for it to be a gift we have, to enjoy eachother as we do? Must it have a name to keep happening?
   - No... - He smiled, admiring her. How could one have all she had? The gift of swaying the blade, and such eyesight upon this bitter life they had? She was one true fairy, but not as fragile as a spirit of the nature. She was someone he could die for. - It does not matter after all, moonchild. One cannot say much after your words, can he? - He laughed. - you have resumed it all as good as only you can do. 
   Sofly they embraced and kissed again. By the next morning, one of them would be wounded, not fatally, but enough to leave the battle. The other would lose hope and regain it only at the last crucial second. But it was what they had chosen to live, and as she said, would live until the death's vulture came sweep them off this world.