As my body slammed into a muddy puddle, I lost hold of my longsword. Falling out of my hands, my only source of protection was gone as I was forced to stare my attacker in the eye–the woman I thought was my friend.
She towered above me, muscles rippling as she glowered at my trembling self. Her sparky blue eyes were filled with pools of unbridled antipathy, unyielding and relentless as she brought her gauntlets to the sky. Her metal fists gleamed beneath the cloudy sunlight, an omen of my approaching death. As she brought down the hands of self-proclaimed justice, I was able to croak out one pitiful word, eyes screwed shut:
"Wait."
Her fists stopped right above my abdomen as I warily opened one eye. Her lip was curled in a sneer as she crouched over me, anticipating a response as her clenched hands trembled.
"I know you're mad. I know you believe I betrayed you, Quinala, but I didn't. The Dravonic Army has been lying to us. Using us. For years. We've just been so blinded with power, we didn't notice," I continued, voice aching with pain.
"You're lying," Quinala growled, remaining still.
"Look around. Do you really think these people have done anything wrong? Mothers? Children?" As I asked this, the massive woman above me glanced around. I could see the slightest shift in her cerulean eyes, but her only response was to grit her teeth as she glowered at me.
"I wouldn't lie to you, Quinala. So believe me when I say the Dravonic Army isn't right. They've never been. I've just been too foolish to believe the obvious." I could feel hot tears brimming in my eyes, but I blinked them away as I didn't dare break Quinala's stare.
"No. No," Quinala said as she took a step back, shaking her head as she released her deathly grip. "I've worked so hard to get to where I am. You're... you're just jealous. You're trying to steal it from me! Well, it won't work!"
A vein in her throat bulged as she brought her hands together and swung them above her head. But I didn't move as we made eye contact once again. "We're both captains, Quinala. I have nothing to take from you. So please, believe me."
Quinala turned her head from side to side as she raked her gaze across the bloodied battlefield. Tens of hundreds of dead civilians littered the street, the pungent smell of iron coating the lands. Right next to us laid a child who couldn't be more than four years old.
And... I could've sworn I saw a tear dribble down Quinala's peach skin. With upturned eyebrows, she faced me and let her hands fall slack to her side. She drew in a deep breath before offering me one gauntleted hand and unsteadily hoisting me to my feet.
"How can we fix this? How do we make it right?" she asked me, voice wobbling.
