We ran and ran, and for a little while, I tried to make it a game.

  I'm a rabbit! I thought.

  I'm a fast, brave rabbit hopping away from the big orange fire-monsters!

  But the game wasn't fun.

  My legs started to feel like they were made of heavy, wet sand, and the "eight hours" to the Cave of Honor felt like it was a hundred years away.

  The forest wasn't whispering secrets anymore.

  It was dark, and shadows were reaching out like grabby hands.

  Somewhere between the big oak tree and the rocky stream, the world got all blurry.

  It was like looking through a window during a rainstorm.

  I realized I was crying.

  I tried to stop.

  I really, really did!

  I bit my lip so hard I could taste something metallic, and I wiped my cheeks with my dirty sleeves until they felt raw.

  I didn't want to be a crybaby. Frans hates crybabies.

  Usually, he'd say something mean like, "Are you a man or a leaky faucet, Rick?" or "Keep crying and the wolves will think you're a snack." But he didn't say anything.

  He just kept pulling my hand, his back like a wall between me and the smoke.

  That silence... it was scarier than his yelling.

  It made my tummy feel tight, like a knot that wouldn't come undone.

  He squeezed my fingers once, just a little bit, and it wasn't a "hurry-up" squeeze.

  It was a "don't-let go" squeeze.

  I'm here, it said.

  But why did I have to be the one being pulled?

  My chest hurt so bad, not because I was out of breath, but because I felt like a little piece of useless lint.

  Father, Mother, Uncle Friedric... they were all back there in the fire, and all I could do was get my face messy with tears.

  I don't want to be a baby anymore, I thought, and the thought felt like a hot coal in my heart. I don't want to just run!

  Suddenly, Frans stopped.

  I almost went bonk right into his back.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "…They're fast," he whispered.

  His voice was cold, like ice cubes. "It seems the scouts have already reached us."

  Scouts? The Empire men? They found us already?

  My heart started doing a panicked drumroll against my ribs.

  "Thump-thump-thump-thump!"

  "There are only three," Frans said, looking at the trees.

  "I can handle them. This will buy us some time. Rick. Hide here. In the bushes."

  I wanted to scream.

  No! Don't leave me!

  But the look in his eyes made the words get stuck in my throat. I just nodded, feeling very small, and wiggled into the prickly bushes. I held my breath until my face felt hot.

  Clip-clop. Clip-clop.

  Three horses. They sounded like monsters with iron feet.

  thud.

  I saw a head. A real person's head, rolling on the grass like a lost ball, covered in red.

  My eyes went wide, and I had to put my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming.

  "AMBUSH!"

  The forest exploded! It wasn't quiet and pretty anymore.

  It was all clanging metal and angry shouting.

  One man jumped off his horse with a big, mean sword.

  Another man stayed back with a crossbow, a scary thing that shoots tiny spears.

  "Tch, keep him busy!" the crossbowman yelled. "I'll put a bolt through his head!"

  Then, I felt something.

  The air around Frans got... heavy.

  Like right before a big thunderstorm.

  Frans's eyes changed. The rings appeared: blue, white, yellow, red.

  The Blessed Pupils! Even from the bushes, I could see it.

  He wasn't my brother anymore; he was like a god of war. He moved so fast he was just a blur of grey and silver.

  CLANG!

  The swordsman was fast, but Frans was faster.

  He was dancing! Clash! Spark! Snap!

  They were moving so quickly that my eyes couldn't even keep up.

  "Damn it, you're fast!" the man snarled.

  Click. The crossbow! I saw the man aiming at Frans's head.

  "DIE!" he screamed.

  Whoosh! The little spear flew through the air, but Frans twisted his body, just a tiny bit!, and it missed!

  It bit into a tree with a loud thwack!

  Before the man could even blink, Frans was gone.

  He appeared right in front of the crossbowman.

  Slash.

  A hand flew into the air. Just... a hand.

  "AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!"

  The man fell, and the grass turned red.

  It happened so fast.

  Frans turned around and finished the swordsman with one single, beautiful strike.

  It was over.

  The forest went quiet, except for the one-armed man screaming and clutching his arm-stump.

  "Monster…! You're a monster!" the man shrieked.

  He turned.

  He was running.

  He was running away from Frans... but he was running straight toward my bush.

  My brain went all white and fuzzy.

  I couldn't breathe.

  My legs wouldn't move.

  They were frozen like popsicles!

  The man saw me.

  His face was pale and sweaty, and his eyes were bulging out.

  He looked like a nightmare.

  He laughed a scary, crazy laugh.

  "A kid!? Out of my way!"

  He raised a shiny dagger in his left hand.

  Move, Rick! Move!

  I told myself.

  I tried to lift my sword, but it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

  My arms were shaking so hard I couldn't even hold the grip right.

  He lunged at me.

  I tripped. I fell backward into the dirt, looking up at the sharp, pointy metal coming for my face.

  This is it, I thought.

  I'm going to die in the dirt.

  No. A spark hit my heart.

  Not a fun spark, but a hot, angry one.

  I don't want to die! I don't want to be protected! I don't want Frans to be alone!

  Something in my chest started to burn like the village fire.

  I let out a scream that didn't sound like a seven-year-old at all.

  It sounded like a wild animal.

  THRUST!

  I pushed my sword forward with everything I had.

  Squish.

  The blade went into his throat. It felt soft, like pushing a stick into thick mud. Then, something warm and sticky poured all over my hands. It was hot. It was gross.

  The man's eyes got really big. "…Ah…?"

  He fell forward, right on top of me. He was so heavy. He didn't move anymore. He was just... meat.

  I lay there under him, the heavy smell of blood filling my nose, my whole body shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.

  I did it.

  I killed him.

  My hands were stained bright red, and for the first time in my life, I didn't feel like a rabbit.

  I felt like something else entirely.

  Something scary.