They were children, once.
(No they weren't.)
They were survivors.
(For a time, anyway.)
A boy raised in misery, the world looked down upon him.
A girl grown in the shadows, unloved by the world.
They met as kids. Two twelve year olds, with a broken history and so few left. Of course they were destined to find comfort in each other.
They fought as teenagers. Two seventeen year olds against the worlds and all the odds. No one else understood their nightmares.
They lived as young adults.
They went to classes. They had dates on the weekdays, and took spontaneous trips on the weekends.
Life was good.
(It didn't last.
It never does.)
The end came on a winter day. They shouldn't've taken the quest, but both were eager to fight again, and wanted to help.
The battle was hard, and they were low on numbers. It was just the two of them. Perhaps that was a good thing. They started their journey of love together, it was only natural they finished it that way. When everything fell apart, they were alone - but they were together.
He left as a shell.
She left as a body.
They were best friends.
(Cursed by the gods.)
They were a pair.
(Pulled apart by war.)
Against his wishes, time began to pass.
He had tears, and funerals, and evenings alone. He had an empty bed and quiet home. He had birthdays without anniversaries, and days without meaning.
As months went by, his family did their best. His mother suggested going back to camp, but all he could see was memories of her.
Despite his protests, he went. Not for himself, but for the others in his life.
While he was there, he began to help. He saw children with a past like him, and helped give them a better future.
Two new campers caught his eye a few years later.
A boy with sea-green eyes and a girl with golden hair were laughing together by the fire.
He smiled at them, the muscles in his face used for the first time in years.
He watched them leave, hoping they were given a better story than the one Fate had written.
They were lovers.
(Destined for tragedy.)
