The Rescue (Caitlin)

I watched from a distance. Thousands of people have fought the dragon to no avail, but he seemed different. He came just as he was with no valiant speech, just the words "I'm not here to fight." If he said that, then why did he fight? That I may never know, but I saw each one of his jabs at the dragon. They were unorthodox fencing techniques, but they worked nonetheless, at least until he lost his balance and fell from the obsidian tower. Instinctively, I rushed to his side as I had recently brewed a healing potion. I never aided the others, but he looked vaguely familiar to me.

I checked his eyes with a torch. His pupils contracted when I held the torch close to his face; they expanded when I moved it away. I shouted in his face and pinched his arm. He did not respond, but he kept asking "Huh?". He had a grade 3 concussion, which requires medical attention. However, there were no doctors in the End and, though numb with fear, I just did what I had to. I removed his armor, filled the syringe with 50 ml of the fast-acting healing potion I had on hand, quickly wiped the injection site with an alcohol wipe, and injected it into his shoulder. I conducted the same tests. When he pinched him, he flinched. I injected a long-acting healing potion into his other shoulder. He opened his eyes, sat up, and held his head. This indicated the presence of a headache.
         "My head. My head." He repeated this until he put his head in his hands. "What happened?"
         "You had a concussion and a bad one at that. Stay here and drink this. You will be able to fight in two weeks." I offered him another healing potion. He sipped it slowly.
         "But I need to rescue you. For Vivienne." His condition improved; his headache seemed to subside and he just seemed tired, if anything. Seeing him brought a flood of memories. He kissed Vivienne before she left during our graduation. She attempted to fight the dragon using potions from her medical studies and accidentally poisoned herself while fighting. Her cry of "I'm doing this for Steve!" sounded through my head like a fanfare. In another event, he asked me "Would you like a banana chip?" on the school bus, and when I asked if I would like them, he laughed and told me "It's up to you to decide". I ended up developing a strong Unlike others, he didn't call me weird. I remembered trying to clean ink stains from his pants; as if in return, he caught me when I had a drop attack. Now, here he was, staring me in the face. He focused on me. "I must fight."Steve struggled to his feet, but I held him back by his wrist.
         "No, Steve. You had a concussion. Therefore, you are sitting down and not partaking in risky activity." I would have pinned him down, but that would be too much of a risk to our safety.
         "I'm fine. Really. I am." He brushed the dust off his diamond leggings and put his chestplate on. Raising his sword, he charged the dragon once again. I feared that he would fall and sustain another head injury, but I let him fight. It's his brain, not mine.

Steve did not fight like the other challengers. He was more up-front, spontaneous, and lacked the typical fencer's grace. His strokes were awkward and amateur-like, yet that never seemed to inhibit him. His eyes were the color of lapis lazuli, almost the same as Vivienne's--and I saw her in Steve in an almost uncanny way. The same sacrificial love burned within him as the fuel for his fight. Saying he had a heart of gold would be like comparing a diamond to coal. Unwilling to watch another friend die, I turned away and practiced my clarinet. I turned to a dynamic melody. I was never good with fast music, but it helped me to keep my mind off of the fight. Halfway through the passage, I couldn't play. I broke down crying in a heap. What would Steve do now if he saw me like this? Would he knock me down or help me to my feet? Why did he come? I looked up again and, in a flash of blinding light, the dragon exploded and left an egg. He descended to my level.
          "Caitlin?" Steve looked at me like he discovered something wonderful. I don't know what he saw in me, though. He was sweaty, seemed like he hadn't showered in days, and, for some reason, reeked of urine, but I didn't care. He was here and that's what mattered. He opened his arms and asked me if I wanted a hug and, for the first time, I did. I wanted to be there forever, safe in his strong arms.
         "You...You came back. What lead you here? The End is supposed to be impossible to locate."  He removed his armor as I handed him a towel. He wiped his forehead and continued to stare at me as if struggling to know if I were real. I looked down at my pale self, which was mostly covered by scullery maid attire.
         "My love for you served as my guide. That and a map, which I burned on the way over." I giggled with my hand over my mouth. "Will you come with me?" As if saving me from a fall, Steve reached his hand towards me and I accepted it.