Heroes Don't Cry

"Finnick?"

It was Elmyra, I knew. She was worried about me, and not for no reason either. Yes, it was wrong of me to run off so suddenly, but I needed the escape of training until I collapsed today, no matter how unhealthy she always said it was. I had to be better, I couldn't let her down. I couldn't let anyone down.

After all, heroes don't cry.

I wished I could fulfill her expectations of me. She always believed in me, had high hopes and higher expectations.

Sometimes those same expectations felt like a crushing weight upon my shoulders, I felt I would never be able to be the hero she thought I was.

Elmyra was technically my mentor, but really we were more like best friends. We'd been so since the beginning of his apprenticeship, when those three words had changed his whole world...

It was late last summer, I was in a tournament of the blade, trying to prove myself worthy, as the Chosen Hero. In order to set the public at ease, I had to win it. After all, if I was to be humanity's last hope, the last defense against the demons, I had to be strong. It was the last match, the crowd was echoing in my ears. I couldn't let them down.

But I was tired. My sword was barely in my grip, I was bleeding from six different places and damn, it hurt. My vision was blurring uncontrollably, my limbs heavy as lead, but the crowd demanded that I win.

A couple of barely blocked strikes, another weak slash. My opponent knew I was tired. Knew and enjoyed it. Mocked me for it, even.

Back then, it was my master that had saved me.

"YOU'VE GOT THIS!" She'd screamed, her whole being vibrating with the effort of creating such a loud noise. My eyes had gone wide with shock and then, with a strength I hadn't thought I had, I'd taken the opponent down.

But now...I couldn't do it. I couldn't take down the king of all demons, because I was scared. I'd never, not in my entire life, been as scared as I was now.

The crowd back then had cheered and declared it a victory, everyone had seen my smile, the victorious pose I’d made.

But no one, not even Elmyra, had seen me vomit on the tile of the shower afterwards from pain and overexertion as my injuries and the nonstop hour of fighting caught up to me. No one had seen the stream of desperate, terrified tears I bit my lip against and almost failed to hold back.

That was how it was supposed to be, I knew. But it didn't feel right. It hurt too much to keep up any longer, incidents like that were commonplace now. I could do nothing but grit my teeth and bear it, to see the world safe, to be able to see Elmyra's smile once more.

After all, heroes don't cry.

So I put on a brave face and called, "Coming!" Catching up to her, I added, "Sorry for vanishing so suddenly like that. I guess I just needed a quick run to process things."

Judging from the look on her face as she took in my appearance, she wasn't fooled about it being 'just a quick run'.

Which, of course, was accurate. I'd worked out until I dropped, and refused to allow myself to eat, I knew I'd just throw it up anyways.

But she said nothing, only showing the concern she felt so strongly in her eyes. "Okay. Next time, tell me please. You can't just disappear on me like that."

I nodded, expecting this to be all of it before she moved on. And it almost was, but then she hesitated, turned, and said, "Finnick...You know you can depend on me, right? You can tell me anything."

For a split second, I considered her proposal. Her eyes said they'd listen without judgment. I'd thought about this many times before, knew she would accept me if I told her what was really going on...

But her opinion of me would be forever changed. She would think the same as everyone else would: that I was weak, that I wouldn't be able to defeat the demon king, that I was a failure of a Chosen Hero.

Maybe it was true, but if I told her, she would lose all hope in me. I didn't want to disappoint her after all those years she'd poured into me. I wanted to see her smile, even if it meant that I was alone in my torment. So long as the way she looked at me sometimes never changed, I would be alright.

So I squared my shoulders, gave her a quick smile, and nodded. "I know, Elmyra. I trust you." The words felt like knives with the knowledge that there was so much I was holding back, but I quickly swallowed the guilt.

She smiled, big an bright and full, giving me a light punch on the shoulder. "I know I can always count on you." Her eyes even smiled, and for a moment I forgot how to breathe.

This too hurt, in an entirely different way. But this was my job: to be dependable and fight and win in the face of any adversary. So I swallowed this other pain and followed her to the path.

Another two days passed along the road.

Would I win? I wasn’t sure. But hell if I was going to show anyone this.

The castle loomed in the distance, Elmyra took me aside for a little pep talk before we got any closer. “You know I believe in you, right?”

I nodded, polishing my sword. I had to be in tip top condition for this fight, if I lost concentration it would spell my death. “Thanks, Elmyra.”

“You’re the Chosen Hero. The prophecy said you would defeat the Demon King and prophecies always come true.” She was all business.

But then her eyes softened, and she whispered, “You know it’s not too late to turn back, Finnick. If it’s too much, or if you’re scared, we can wait. I don’t want you to die, or get hurt.” Her eyes filled with tears, slowly. She didn’t seem to notice. “Finnick, I’m scared for you. You’ll be okay, right? Y-you’ll come back?”

I froze in shock. Of all the things I’d expected her to say, this was the last one.

Once it registered, I smiled, reached out and did the thing that honorable, dependable, Chosen Hero Finnick would do: hugged her, pulled her tight to my chest and lightly patted her back. “I promise. I believe in myself. I’m not scared. I’m certain I’ll come back.” I said.

I was lying.

Still she smiled, the hope blossoming in her eyes causing a lump to form in mine, because now what? What if I didn’t come back? What then? I'd be dead, and everyone I knew would surely be quick to join me.

“Really?”

Shoving these feelings aside, I nodded. “If I didn’t, you would kill me, right?” I said, laughing lightly to ease the tension. “So don’t cry.”

She nodded slowly, sniffing. A slight hesitation, then she leaned forwards and brushed her lips against my cheek. It was like a soft warmth spreading from that small place of contact, coloring my face red as I blushed, almost jumping out of my skin, because since when did she do stuff like this?

She pulled back and I was left sitting on the ground in shock while she prepared what might be our last meal together, smiling to herself.

Hell, what have I gotten myself into now?

Darkness fell and she drifted to sleep, but I stayed awake, the words she’d said echoing in his head as I stared up at the heavens.

What if the prophecy was wrong and I failed? What if I died and left her alone in this cruel world? A mix of emotions swirled around in my head. 

I had to leave. 

The conclusion came all at once. Before she woke up, I had to leave. Because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to do this. There was too much hope in her eyes to let her down now. 

My footsteps were nearly silent as I bent down, brushed an errant strand of hair away from her face, and gave a light kiss to the side of her face, smiling sadly. A pace or two away, I couldn’t stop myself from glancing back, taking one last, long look at her sleeping face. 

Who knew if this was the last time I would see her?

Then I was gone, my footsteps sounding against the silence of the night down the road.

***

The Demon King’s palace was well lit by millions of candelabras floating in the air. I couldn’t help but notice this as I was escorted through the palace unnecessarily roughly by a pair of burly guards. Still, I didn’t mind. Those bruises couldn’t compare to the fear leaving my soul shaking.

I was here, about to have the battle of my life (literally). I’d mustered barely enough bravery to come here and be escorted in, and now doubt was sinking it's cold fingers into my skin. How could I battle if I was this terrified before it even began?

Recalling a memory of Elmyra’s smile, I steeled myself. 

Screw the rest of the world’s fate, this was for her. To see her smile, to hear her laugh, to feel her kiss. This thought banished the fear for the moment and I stood tall as I came face to face with the 7 foot atrocity that was the Demon King.

My voice didn’t shake as I called out, “I’m here, as you asked.”

“Good.” It was a growl, it was a purr. He faced me, a sneer on his face. “You don’t look so hot, weakling. What’s wrong? You scared?”

“No. Never.” I replied, putting on that well practiced brave face, but this time with the hope of living through not just for the rest of the world, but for myself, because I selfishly wanted to live. 

“Then let’s battle.”

My sword flew with the fury of an avenging angel. I scored a hit, he hissed in fury, then another. God, his breath stank. “Get a breath mint, nasty old man!” I yelled, taunting. 

He growled in fury and charged, his cow hooves clattering on the stone of the ground. “YOU!” 

7 bolts of magic and a charge later, we were back at close range. Elmyra had taught me well, it wasn’t long before he was retreating once more. 

And at last, I stabbed him in the gut. He gave a hollow, wretched noise, I closed my eyes and turned away from the sight of so much blood pouring from the wound, wishing I could erase the dying noises coming out of his mouth from my memory. 

White heat blossomed on my cheek and I reeled back, feeling the blood hot and fast as it ran down my face.

“Shit!” I grimaced, trying to see through the blood. It seems he slashed me in the face while my sword was buried in his chest, he was still alive! Worse, my sword was in his chest and I was loosing blood fast as it tried in vain to clot. 

“What’s wrong, hero?” He sneered. “YOU THOUGHT I’D DIE THAT EASY? I AM A DEMON! I AM THE DEMON KING!” He roared, the wound closing around my sword. 

Was I really going to die here? 

No, I had to survive. Elmyra hadn’t brought me this far to die, had she? I hadn’t trained so hard for so long to be killed, right? I hadn’t endured all that pain, that suffering, to die now, had I?

Roaring, I ran towards him.

Crippling pain shot across me as he threw a spear he snatched from one of the guards watching straight through my leg. My vision went black, and when I awoke from my momentary black out, he was holding me above his head by the waist in his massive hand. 

But he’d forgotten something: the sword wasn’t my only weapon. 

I pulled the enchanted dagger Elmyra had given me for my birthday from its concealed sheath and jammed it hard into his eye, mourning it’s loss.

“Now we’re even!” I yelled as he reared back, dropping me. 

I couldn’t help the cry that escaped my mouth as I landed hard, breaking a rib and jamming the spear further through my leg. Gritting my teeth, I snapped the shaft on both sides to stop it from injuring me further, then forced myself to stand. For a bright future, for the happiness of all those I loved.

I ran as well as I could towards him once more. The sword had lodged itself in his chest, so if I levered it upwards, it could puncture his heart and kill him. 

But he had recovered, and before I could react, I felt a sudden coldness, wrongness, as something stopped my momentum completely. 

He’d stabbed me. I couldn’t do anything in the face of this excruciating pain but gasp, blood trickling down the corner of my mouth, drip-dripping to the stones beneath my feet. 

He laughed, but here was my chance. Mustering all the strength I had left, I grabbed the blade. The first time, my hands slipped in the slick blood on the hilt. The second, I had hold. 

It was an abrupt movement, there was no beauty in it. In a single instant his heart was pierced and he died, jaw going slack.

The strength drained from my legs and they slid out from under me, forcing the sword deeper into my body. The King collapsed, his attendants turned to ash, screaming as he slowly crumbled to dust. 

I fell to my side. The stone was cold, I was cold, it was unbearable, the sword felt wrong and foreign and strange within me.

But the pain was gone. A final blessing from the cursed gods who’d given me this prophesied death? A dry chuckle rang from my throat at the thought, but it sounded more like a gurgle to my ears, or was my hearing dying out?

Shit. Now I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise to Elmyra…

As if summoned by her name, she was suddenly there, holding my body in her warm hands, her eyes wide. She was saying something. What was she saying? I couldn’t hear her. I tried to tell her and she shook her head, putting a finger to my lips and mouthing something along the lines of, "Don't speak."

Tears slid down her cheeks and I smiled, wishing I could tell her not to waste them on me.

After all, heroes don't cry.