Her Magnhild lies broken, thrown to the side. My Jade Dragons are since long lost in the fight. Her hand is steady in mine, holding tight. She is not scared. Even staring down at this terrible herd of soulless grinning up at us she is not scared.
"They will come."
Her voice is stern, unwavering, certain of our companions' loyalty. I myself am not so sure. Rather, I would not blame them for not ever looking our way again.
My hand is not steady. I am afraid. I fear death. I fear her death, and I fear my own death. I am grateful for her hand, so steady in this chaos which we have been placed in the middle of.
I nod, mostly for my own sake.
"Yeah."
Looking down at her I see her short hair is tousled and dark in places, stained with her own blood. Despite this she looks taller than ever before, her expression defiant. She is mentally spitting the enemy in their many faces. I envy her, her courage, her fearlessness. I am not fearless, I am not courageous. I am selfish and scared. I grip her hand even tighter.
She turns her head to the side, to me, meeting my eyes. She smiles. It is a happy smile, but her words are not.
"They will come," she says again, "but not soon enough."
Her words are like heavy rocks in my stomach, making it sink to the ground. Keeping her eyes strong on mine she stands silent for a long time and I remember every other time I have looked into her familiar eyes. I never want this moment to end, because if it ends, all will be over. But like every other moment it does end. She coughs and blood streams down her chest, dripping on our linked hands. Her eyes close.
I scream as she falls. Catching her in my arms we fall to the ground together. Tears fills my eyes and I can do nothing but cry out her name until my voice is hoarse and rips in my throat. My cries turn into quiet whispers. I hardly notice it when the chaos that surrounds us shifts but I look up and with tear-blurred vision I see Pyrrha fighting her way through the herd, Jaune right behind her. They spot us at the same time, Pyrrha yelling something but I cannot hear what. I look down again.
"They did come, Nora." My whisper is like sandpaper in my throat, "Nora, you were right."
She was right. But there is no witty comeback, no "I told you so", no small giggle. Only silence meets me and I close my eyes. Tears fall down my cheeks as I hug her still body tighter.