Swish. Clang. "Ahh!"
Travis tried to tune out the sounds from the rest of the battlefield and focus only on his sword.
Travis wasn't the greatest swordsman, though he certainly wasn't the worst. Sword fighting didn't come naturally to him. He usually fought using his brain and his nimble fingers- setting up embarrassing traps and whatnot. Even a knife would've been a more suitable weapon for him. It took much focus for him to attack with the three-foot weapon, and even more to simply defend. Not to mention, he was defending from a totally unorthodox fighting style- Roman.
It would've been easier if Travis, and the other Greeks, hadn't been ordered to avoid killing their attackers. The stabbing motion of the Roman fighting style left much opportunity for a Greek blade to take a slice through the stomach. Chiron wanted as few casualties as possible, for both sides.
"The fighting will stop." Chiron had announced so sure of himself. "The Oracle of Delphi has seen the fighting come to an end. And when it does, the fewer casualties there have been, the easier it will be for us and the Romans to make peace."
"You heard Chiron!" Clarrise yelled afterwards, although anyone could see that she didn't want to avoid killing the attackers. "Avoid killing any of them! Push back enemy lines! Disarm them if necessary! Only resort to injuring and maiming if necessary!"
The fighting will stop. Chiron had said. That was more than a day and a half ago.
In the beginning of the fight, the Romans outnumbered the Greeks at least three to one. It wasn't as if the campers had never fought off multiple enemies before. But fighting without killing the enemy? That was difficult. And when the enemy has orders to kill you? That's even more difficult.
Travis knew a lot of his friends had fallen in battle. He'd seen their bodies littered around the grounds as he tried to push back his personal opponents. He had helped retrieve them when the Romans had pulled back to rest up. Travis didn't want to think about his fallen companions. He certainly didn't want to think about the odds stacked against the Greeks now that so many of them had been lost.
Travis was in a difficult spot now. Two Romans were attacking him at once. No killing. He reminded himself. Travis had never been able to disarm an opponent in practice, much less a battle, and his sword skills weren't refined enough for him to be sure only the flat of the blade would hit his enemies if he tried to knock them down.
Travis though was successfully ignoring everything around him, managing to keep himself mostly unharmed from the two Roman kid's blows. Then he registered a scream in the distance.
"Romans, fall back!" It was that blonde kid on the Roman side. The one who never faught. What was his name? Octogon? Octopus? Octavious?
Travis couldn't remember, and frankly, he didn't care. He and some of his siblings nicknamed the guy Octopussy, because the guy was a coward who refused fight in a war that he was apparantly leading. Why would any Roman follow a coward? Even the Greeks knew enough about Roman values to know that the Octo guy shouldn't be aloud to live with them, let alone be a major part of their government.
The two Romans he'd been fighting looked at each other, unhappy they had to leave before they could pummel the son of Hermes that had been weakening. "You got lucky, Graceus." One of them sneared.
"You may have orders to leave the fight, but I however, do not." Travis pulled his fist back and swung it hard into the boy's nose. A sickening crack sounded loud and clear.
The boy stared at him, fury in his eyes. Blood streamed down his chin. He spat out a mixture of blood and spit. His hands flew out toward Travis. "Why you little-!" His friend hald him back. "Let me go!"
"Marcus, stop it! Do you want to get kicked out of the legion?" Marcus didn't calm down. "You're already on Octavian's bad side, man! You only have three months left before you can retire to New Rome!"
"Three months to retirement, huh?" Travis asked. "Sounds like you don't want to break anymore orders. I, on the other hand, can break my orders without too much consequence. Leave now, or I will kill you."
Marcus seemed to consider this, and turned to leave, though he didn't look too happy about it. "You win this time, Graceus." He said before leaving. "Next time, you won't be so lucky."
Travis observed the damage as he limped towards the medical tent the Apollo kids had set up. There were bodies everywhere. Some he recognized with ease. Some he had to strain to recognize because their bodies were so mangled. And for every five or so Greek bodies he saw, there were only one or two bodies clad in Roman armor.
Travis walked into the tent and was instantly noticed a crowd of campers circling one cot in particular. But he didn't have time to dwell on it before he was attacked by one of his little sisters. Suzy was only seven. She wasn't the violent type in the slightest, so she spent her time during the battle assisting the medics. Now she was holding him tight and crying.
"Suzy, what's wrong? What are they all looking at?"
"It's Connor." She said.
Suzy said something else, but the world had gone quiet. Travis couldn't hear anything but his heavy breathing and his heart beat. Connor, his little brother. How, badly was he injured? Would his brother ever recover? Or was it fatal?
Travis pulled his little sister off of him and pushed through the crowd. The campers were annoyed at first, but parted quickly when they saw it was Travis trying to make his way to the middle.
There were two brunettes in the center when Travis reached it. One laying on the old rickety cot, the other kneeling beside it, practically having a mental break down. But it wasn't Connor laying motionless on the cot. But it was still just as bad, in a completely different way.
"What happened?" Travis asked. His tongue felt dry, like cotton. He was pretty sure it had only come off as a gurgle of sound. He swallowed and asked again.
"I don't know." Connor answered, almost hysterically. "I was surrounded. Then she just appeared out of nowhere. She took it in the side, before I could take it in chest. Then they were ordered to fall back."
Travis fell on his knees by her side. Her chest was till moving, but barely. The stab knife went right through her rib cage, probably puncturing her left lung, if not something more important. He grasped her hand.
"Travis?" She asked weakly. She coughed, and blood dribbled down the side of her face. "Is that you?" Her eyes were barely open, and Travis could just see the mismatched irises. One was the color of moist dirt. The other was green, the same shade has Thalia's pine.
"Yes, Katie. It's me." Then he added, "You idiot."
Katie almost smiled, but she was in too much pain. "I'm sorry." She said. "I couldn't stand to see you lose your brother."
"Who did this?" Travis demanded. "I'll- I'll kill him."
"Don't." Katie whispered, and Travis knew what she meant. Don't avenge me. Don't attack them with blind fury. Don't become a murderer.
"What am I suppose to do?" He asked. Was the world starting to flood? Or were those just his tears?
"Hold me." She requested. Travis hugged her tightly, but still was careful not to hurt her.
Travis looked into her eyes, and he could see the light leaving them. "Don't leave me." He pleaded. "Please. Stay with me."
Katie spoke once more with labored breaths. It was so soft spoken that he almost missed it. Then she closed her eyes, for the last time.
Travis put his forehead to hers. Tears rolled shamelessly down his cheeks he held her close, cradeling her in his arms. Travis barely noticed the other campers leaving him so he could have some privacy. He kissed her lips which were still slightly warm to the touch. "I love you too, Katie Gardner." He replied against her lips. He couldn't believe he waited until she was dead to admit it to even himself. "Wait for me in Elysium."