A real hero never runs. A real hero always fights to protect the ones you love. Keep your loved ones from getting killed and defeat the ones who threaten their life...
But what if these two principles conflict each other?
"Commander Owain!"
The rough voice of a cavalier rang dull in Owain's ears. How pathethic he must look right now, sitting alone in a tent put up at the edge of a bloody warfield. Bodies must be strewn outside, all their lifes lost, whether it be enemy or friend. Owain shed more a tear for the fallen soldier who had no choice but to fight for each leader.
Stakes were high.
Lifes were lost.
As much as Owain always boasted about his achievements, the battlefield scared him. Maybe it would have been better to become a healer, just like his mother had wanted.
But it's far too late to turn back now. Far too late, even for the enemy he had once called friend.
"Commander!", the voice shouted desperately again.
Picking up the despair in the voice, Owain immediately stood up from the box he had sulked on.
"What is it?",he harshly demanded to know, saddened to see that even this battle didn't return the motivation and excitement he used to be so proud of. But after what happened to...no, not now.
"It's the enemy",gasped the soldier clad in green.
"He's...he's got a hostage!"
Owain clenched his eyes shut, afraid of the answer that would surely haunt his ghost forever. If Stahl was that afraid...
"W-who...",gasped Owain, fear constricting his throat to the point of almost being strangled.
Stahl looked away in sadness and muttered a single word.
"S-s-severa."
Outside, the soldiers lost even more motivation upon hearing their leader's cry of outrage. It almost reached the absolute zero.
"I'm-",started Owain, but stopped upon seeing Stahl's fear. His eyes were widened, he was shaking. Owain breathed heavily and finally eased his mind just a tiny bit.
"Stahl. You're dismissed."
The cavalier's eyes widened even further.
"Impossible, Commander. I shall not leave your side."
Seeing the aging Stahl's determination,Owain sighed and accepted his refusal.
"Very well. We're going."
"N-now?"
"Now."
Owain never changed his attire in all the thirty years of life he had on his back. It still had the same yellow primary color, and it was still light, a sharp contrast to the heavy armor some of his knight's wore.
And this is the attire he will wear, to his last battle if it ever came to it.
With shaky determination, Owain stepped out of the tent, thoughts racing. Escape. Escape. Escape. Run away. It'll be easier that way.
Owain stopped in his tracks, very well aware that everyone's eyes was on him. They wanted their leader. But what's a leader? Someone strong who manages to lead his army to victory.
"..."
He didn't want to die. He didn't want to kill a friend. He didn't want to lose a friend. A friend will die either way, so why bother using the harder route?
He ran.
Ran from everything.
Ran from the shocked and understanding eyes of his teammates.
Ran from the very reason he ever picked up a sword and swung it around aimlessly.
"Hero, my ass",Owain cried out as he ran farther away from the battlefield he so loathed. He's seen too many deaths to continue. He was at his absolute worst, but didn't want to die. The true definition of a coward.
His run ended in a very abrupt collision with a tree.
"O-owain?",an elderly voice spoke with shock. It was a female, and Owain recognized her immediately as he rubbed his head. He's not crying, he told himself.
"Why are you crying, dear? Is it...oh my."
Even the voice seemed to be in extreme sadness.
"N-no. I'm not...crying, Olivia, ma'am."
"My dear boy, whoever told you that I'm not perceptive is an utter moron."
Owain finally opened his eyes and spotted the kind,yet aged face of a beautiful dancer. The age didn't affect her beauty at all. She may not be a dancer anymore, but nowadays her smile is enough to motivate even the most despairing people. But not himself.
"Owain,I still have no idea what drove him to this insanity and to this day it still pains me how he turned this way. He was such a sweet boy...",Olivia serenely expressed. She wore her feelings on her sleeve. So much so that her sadness only fueled Owain's own.
"H-he was...is a friend. But if I don't stop him, I will lose a friend. If I do, I will also lose a friend. Why am I forced to make such a choice?!"
Owain openly started to sob, not ashamed in the slightest.
"Owain, tell me what you are",Olivia kindly asked, putting a hand on the man's shoulder.
"A coward",the man honestly replied, albeit almost incomprehensibly.
"No. Tell me what you were in the years leading to this one."
"An impostor."
"What were you pretending to be?"
"A h-hero..."
The tears started flooding again as Owain recalled the promise he made himself after his mother died the first time.
I will protect the weak and defeat the evil guys. I will save my loved ones and defeat the ones hurting them. I will be a true hero and never run away.
Why did those words feel so sincere when he made that oath?
Why...
"Owain, you saved many lives. You saved many from going through the same pain you felt. It was because you were a hero. You still are. After all, you saved a girl's life yesterday."
Owain's mind flashed back to the scene yesterday, despite the fact he didn't want to.
It was rather anticlimatic. Owain simply fended off a wolf about to attack a young girl. One simple show of swords, and the wolf ran. The girl didn't even thank him, only stared at her saviour.
But only now Owain remembered the admiration in the girl's eyes. That glittering that was tears of fear just a minute ago. That same glittering that gave him the drive to become a hero so many years ago.
"Olivia, forgive me."
Nodding in sad understanding, Olivia patted Owain's shoulder and walked away briskly. Owain didn't want to see her cry, so he started walking as slow as a turtle. Then he started walking faster, then he started running. Faster. Faster. Hoping that he wasn't too late to Save Severa.
The battle hasn't even started yet. The soldiers were still wallowing in their misery, even with Stahl's attempts of motivation.
"Soldiers!"
Every man turned their heads to the source of the shout. What greeted them was a sight as bright as the rising sun.
Owain, the leader, sword hand held high, one hand covering his face.
"I believe we have a battle to attend to. It's hero time!"
Seeing their leader's former glory restored, the soldiers rose their weapons and cried out in unison.
"Hero time!"
Amused and happy at the sight, Stahl immediately got onto his horse and rode to the front lines.
"To battle!",he shouted.
"Too battle!",everybody else roared.
And so, they rode to the middle of the blood field.
Inigo was merely standing on the other side, boredly throwin and catching his sword. A tied up Severa was shouting curses at him, though it didn't reached his notice at all.
"My my, what's this?",the mercenary noted in amusement as he saw the commotion on the other side, his red eyes twinkling.
"Looks like Wainy is back to hisbusual self again. What a bother."
"Inigo!"
Owain raced past the enemy soldiers who, to his confusion, didn't attempt to stop the swordsman from running to the leader.
"Just tell me why you're doing this."
"Because I feel the need for amusement."
Owain sighed, hearing the same line again. Amusement. Didn't their friendship mean anything at all?!
"I don't want to fight",Owain sincerely said.
"But I do. I don't want to be bored, so come on, put up a decent challenge. If you win, you win the war. If I win, I win the war",Inigo arrogantly explained. Owain gritted his teeth.
"Can I trust your brigands and bandits?",he made sure.
"Don't you worry~"
"And what about a tie?"
"Truce."
Owain sighed and retreated a few steps to put up distance between him and his former friend.
But then, behind those twinkling red eyes, Owain could make out the kindness his Inigo used to have. His love for dance, his flirtatious nature...
If there is a way to drive the madness away, so he will.
Owain took a deep breath, rose his sword...and smiled, maybe for the first time in years.
"My sword hand twitches for a good fight!"
He and Inigo started to run to each other, sharp weapons ready to impale the other.
Owain ran...
And ran.
And ran away from the burning home that had once been his and his mother's home.
"Mother!",the tiny Owain cried out, tears clouding his view. He could see her, burnt crawling out of the doomed house.
He ran towards her, hearing her pained breaths.
"Mother..."
"D-don't cry...smile...",Lissa sadly managed to choke out. Yet, there was a smile on her face.
"Mother..."
Her hand went limp. In a panic, Owain picked up the battered and damaged healing staff and tried to chant the words she usually does.
"...why isn't it working...? WHY ISN'T IT WORKING?! WHY?!"
And so, Owain started to run away. Run away from the woman he called mother, who had been his entire life. He ran, crying out and scaring every single bird in the vicinity.
Has it been hours already or just minutes? Young Owain honestly couldn't tell.
He didn't know what drove him to climb onto a tree to bawl his eyes out, but he did.
He couldn't save his mother. She saved millions, she was a real hero. But Owain couldn't save a single loved one. How pathetic.
"Waaaah!"
That scream...it can't be!
Peering below, he saw the young shy boy that was always around the dancer lady getting chased by a wolf whose fangs dripped with blood and a single, pink cloth...
Eyes widening and without thinking, Owain jumped down and drove the staff he still had been carrying with him deep into the wolf's neck.
Gasping and coldly sweating, Owain removed the bloody staff.
"O-owain?",the boy said, stuttering, his eyes widened in admiration. Those eyes that were glittering in admiration, that were filled with tears of fear just a minute ago, stared at him. He felt...good. He finally managed to save someone. Like...a true hero. Just like his mother.
Soon, the two boys grew into an unbeatable team against the Risen, joined by a red haired girl a year from then. They were inseparable, always brawling and training from twilight to dawn. Their swords would clash and even spark at times in their intensive training.
The swords would meet the other, be drawn back
And then...
And then each sword found the opponent's heart.