What Is There Left?
I grasp my hand as the sharp shock of pain and defeat runs up my wrist, my sword sliced clean away and I look up into Guts' face. He won. I've lost him for good and there is nothing I can do now, he has defeated me. I feel the melted snow seeping through the cloth to my bare skin before I even realised that I'm down on my knees, and I know I should do something, anything, to make him stay but I can't. I just kneel there in the snow. "See ya" I hear Guts say and I see his boots start to walk off, crunching in the snow. See ya? After all these years that is all you can say? See ya? Caska, Judeau, Corkus, everyone rush over, but I barely even notice them. Caska is yelling after Guts, but her cries echo in the mountains unanswered. Doesn't she know there's nothing she can do? Stupid woman, he's gone, can't you see that! I have failed, he has overcome me, and now he's gone forever. If only I hadn't tried to block his strike, how could I not have seen that he had grown so much stronger than the impulsive 15 year old I fought three years ago… I should have changed my tactic, dodged his blow, tried to strike first, something, anything! Scenarios keep playing in my mind, different strikes, intricate battles and alternate endings, in all of which I win back my prize and Guts comes home with us. It could have been so easy, I would have disarmed him with a flick of the wrist, and that realisation of loss would have played in his eyes. He wouldn't be happy about it, but in the end he would stay mine, as it should be. I snap back to reality, and I tell myself it didn't happen like that! The man in the snow with heavy shoulders is you, and Guts is the man walking away from you, not looking back, never to return. No matter what you could have done, none of that matters anymore! He was my champion, my right hand in my climb to the top, but now where he was is just an empty space, a space which appears more daunting than any impossible battle, more horrifying than any village massacre. How am I to ever achieve what I am meant to without his support, without him by my side in battle? This is the question that echoes around my skull, laughing at me, mocking me, because I don't have the answer. "People have come and gone before, Griffith, why is this boy so special?" My mind asks of me a question that I cant answer, "You've had generals before, you can find another," For a moment this question reassures me, he is not needed, I will be able to find another general who can fulfil the role left open, and the Band of the Hawk will be whole again, all will be well. It will be Guts, not I that will suffer, he will never amount to as much as what the Band of the Hawk would have brought him! The fool!
But I can only fool myself for so long. This one delusional thought is tossed away, and the reality floods back. No, we will be the ones that suffer from this loss. Guts will never look back and he will go on to pursue great things, but I have lost so much in a split second, leaving a space that will never be filled again, no matter how much time passes or who else I will meet. The consuming hole that Guts has left in his wake will forever haunt me.
I can feel an arm on mine, Caska is urging me to stand, "Please Griffith, let's go, he will not come back," I slowly get to my feet, numb from the cold, again feeling the pain in my hand from the shock of our swords clashing together for a final time. "It will be ok, Griffith" Caska says, although I am not sure whether she speaks to reassure me or herself. I give her a weak nod, and tell her that it will all be ok, and although the words come from my mouth, there is no conviction behind it. I know in my heart that it will not be ok. Guts is gone, and there is nothing left, I have nothing, and there will always be nothing.
