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They are rolling down a hill and for a second it feels like they are children again. Innocent and uncorrupted. For a moment they are sheltered as the world shifts from green to blue to green again in a continuous rotation. But then they reach the bottom and the air is knocked out Ewan Bamalls lungs and he must get up and fight.
The boy is on top of him holding him down, unsure how to kill him. Ewan watches his mind tick over like a clock, eyes glazed in concentration attempting to recall all the things he had learnt in training. He finds something when his eyes clear and Ewan goes blind. The world is black and then it is light, he is blinking again but his vision is going in and out of focus as his brain fights against unconsciousness. Another punch lands on his right cheek, snapping the world limpid.
"Ewan!" his name echoes inside his head, bouncing off every corner of his mind. Eden said it, at least that's what he thinks and his gaze snaps to her for the few milliseconds that won't cost him his life.
The girl is on her knees struggling to stand with a glimpse of ruby red trickling down her cheek. She has her hands on a bow but everything is off balance. The arrows are scattered down the hillside and there is two of the world. He has no hope and she is so out of place.
A hand wraps tightly around his neck and Ewan Bamall is now drowning. At least it feels like it. There is nowhere near enough oxygen in the atmosphere for Ewan as he gasps and claws at the boy for mercy. He can't think. His mind is emptying. He is dying.
Eden meanwhile is hurriedly trying to notch an arrow onto two bows. Every second she wastes is another second he suffocates. She's trying. Eden Galun is trying so damn hard but it will never be enough because Eden Galun isn't a fighter.
As the arrow falls from Eden's hand and the world gets a little darker for Ewan there is fortuity. There is Thor and there is his hammer. There is a crack that rivals thunder and for the second it rolls over the greener hills Ewan Bamall is blessed because Ewan Bamall can breathe.
Thor is with him.
The boy holding him down is blinded—they all are—except him. With all the strength Ewan can muster combined with the knowledge of Thor the boy is brought close, with hands on his shoulder. In his shocked state, he is now the rabbit.
But he is much larger than Ewan, a punch to the cheek does not weaken him. Hands on his throat only fuel him. He runs off adrenaline like old trains ran off coal, every mouthful makes him stronger.
"EDEN SHOOT HIM! SHOOT HIM! EDEN," his voice is hoarse, all his strength lost to his arms from his throat. She, on the other hand, is slowly regaining motor skills but he doesn't know if she'll do it—kill him that is. Eden is dainty, a daddies girl built for tea parties and throne rooms. She isn't meant to be here. She doesn't have a death wish and she certainly is not a killer.
Ewan Bamal is a killer—at least he is ready to become one. When the moment arises he will not hesitate. Because that is what he thinks it means to be a warrior, you must be a killer or partake in its practice. And he will not hesitate.
