Emerald Eyes on the Battlefield

          The battle stopped for just a moment. The world stood still. It could have been half a second or a lifetime, I couldn’t tell the difference. She was beautiful.

       Another soldier tackles me into a ditch right as an explosion fills the air with orange light and harsh sound. Sand cakes us. He’s yelling at me about something, but I don’t hear anything more than a hum. I want to gaze at her again.

       Rifle held high, she shoots one of our men and makes a dive to cut the legs out from another. This isn’t supposed to happen. Why now of all places am I falling in love with the person I am supposed to kill?

       “Protect the chosen one!” a general screams as a barrage of bullets thud through his chest, exiting out his back with a red mist as his body crumbles to the floor like a string being dropped.

       Men are dying left and right, some from our side, some from the other. It was just as the prophecy predicted.

       Two will lead armies into battle, but only one will walk away. Two will face each other in the midst of blood and fire. One will fall at the hand of the other. One will rule the world. 

       I can’t do this. Not now. Years of fighting, battle after battle, over something no one even remembers and I am to fight this angel, sticking out like a diamond in a dark mine on this battlefield. Her green eyes shine from her dirty face brighter than the fires or the explosions through this strife.

       Her face is grimy, and her black hair a mess, but nothing matters except those eyes. I see her blade reflecting the moonlight as she cuts another good man down.

       I’m torn. The battle needs to stop. The war needs to end, but how am I supposed to fight this divine being? Maybe I can explain reason. Give her the victory. Fall to my knees and voice my unconditional surrender. Maybe I can ask for her hand in marriage.

       Visions of a life with her flash in my mind as more people fall to the muddy ground around me. I stand up. She spots me- knows who I am immediately.

       Without thought, the girl runs toward me at sonic speeds bringing her blade down for my head. I barely have time to lift my own sword to ricochet the attack. The metallic sound could have been heard throughout the universe.

       I attempt to tell her my plan, but she pulls out a flintlock pistol. I grab the barrel and pull it to my left side, it fires harmlessly, the chunk of lead tearing the air before falling to the dirt like so many men today.

       “You can have th-,” my voice is cut off as I deflect yet another offensive strike. I can smell her now. Through the blood and gunpowder, its lilies and vanilla. I cannot will myself to fight anymore.

       She launches herself into me. Arms wrap around as a shoulder lands directly into my chest. I can’t help but think it still feels amazing to have her in my arms, even if it is in a fight like this. She raises a dagger and brings it down swiftly, my left arm instinctively pushes into the side, the knife piercing the blood-soaked mud, now is my chance to push her off.

       I pull my dagger outright as the girl jumps to her feet, runs after me. I duck the dagger’s slice, kick her feet out from under her. The knife falls from her hand as she hits the ground hard with a thud. 

       I bring my dagger down now this time, she is completely exposed. The tip of the blade aimed right to her chest, but her eyes. I catch her eyes at the last moment- dagger held three inches from her struggling chest. Those green eyes have small blue tears in the corners of them. They say we can rule this world together. Please have mercy. 

       A crack pierces the sky somewhere far off as I am lost in those emerald jewels in her face. She smiles. I try to smile back but I feel something drip out the corner of my mouth. Its blood.

       She kicks me in my chest as I fall. There is another flintlock pistol in her hand that she discards carelessly. I finally notice the wound in my stomach where she shot me. I attempt to speak one more time, but only cough more blood out. The world goes dark as I see her angelic silhouette walk away victoriously. I am still in love as my last breath leaves my lungs.

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       The woman looks across the battlefield in a delighted daze.

       She has won the battle and is the sole victor of the war. The world is hers. She takes one last look at the boy she has just killed and feels just a touch of pity for him. It has worked.

       She pulls the small bottle out from the breast pocket in her jacket. A love potion guaranteed to bring her victory, made from the witch who did the favor in exchange for a seat on the royal cabinet.

       The girl throws the bottle away. Another casualty to lie in this field forever. She turns back away from her slain enemy to claim the throne that now belongs to her. In a different setting, maybe she would have been attracted to the boy, but this was war and feelings were not to be a factor when it came to prophecies about who could own the world.

           She had fought viciously and he had fought valiantly. She shivers at remembering that he had actually almost bested her despite the powerful love potion. Never mind, though. He had hesitated for just a moment- a moment too long and she had taken advantage and ended up being the one left standing.

           All is fair in love and war, after all.