A/N: This is a short piece I wrote as an application to role-play Yuan in a community on Live Journal. The main scene is one that I will write into my Legendary Heroes fic, when I eventually start writing it!
Oldest Friend
I had to save him. How could I not? We'd been through so much together, good and bad. In the last few centuries we had grown apart – I couldn't involve him in my plans – but the idea of spending the rest of eternity without him…. Yes, it was entirely selfish of me. I had reconciled one loss, barely begun to grieve for another. The prospect of losing my oldest friend, such an unlikely friend, brought a pain that tore through me in that instant before I caught his falling body and shared with him my mana.
I stood in the opening of the make-shift tent, watching the man sleep. With his dirty dark clothing, full facial hair and scruffy auburn mane he looked so much like the men who had attacked us. I could understand why Mithos had struck him during that confusing melée. The wound should have been fatal; the man virtually fell onto the sword the smaller boy was holding. I shuddered as I remembered Martel's piercing scream as she realised Mithos had wounded her "saviour".
So convinced was Martel that this man had turned up at the last minute to rescue us, that she had used almost all of her mana to save his life. And, despite my concern for her own health, she vigilantly tended to the remains of his wounds, watchful that his fever didn't become full-blown. I felt a pang of jealousy as I wondered whether she would do the same for me. A foolish question. Of course she would; it would go against her very nature not to. This side of her, and even her stubbornness to be allowed to express it, that was why I had grown to love her. And that was why I had chosen to leave my hometown with her.
But what good was I to her and her brother if I couldn't prevent them from being attacked by brigands? In truth, we owed our lives to this human. His arrival, as well as the dagger he had thrown at Martel's attacker, had certainly stunned the group momentarily, allowing Mithos and me to overpower our captors. But why was he there? Could we really trust him? Should we take him as our prisoner once he was strong enough to move? Was Mithos's distrust of humans colouring my judgement or was Martel merely too eager to think the best of everyone?
The man stirred and I hastily placed a bowl of food beside him before turning to leave.
"Thank you."
The sincerity in his deep voice compelled me to look at him. His expression was unreadable as ever, his eyes hidden under the fringe of unruly hair. Who was he, really? He and I were going to have a talk. But not right now. I nodded in acknowledgement of his manners and left him to eat in peace.
