A hard goodbye

The sky was a dull gray by the time the battle ended, the sun setting behind a thick veil of clouds. The air was still, heavy with the lingering scent of smoke and blood. Jasmine stood at the edge of the ridge, her body aching from the fight, her heart even heavier. The cries of the wounded echoed around her, a painful reminder of what they had just endured—and what they had lost.

She could see the scattered remains of the battlefield below: soldiers from both sides lying in the dirt, some still breathing, others not. The king's forces had retreated for now, but they hadn't been defeated. This was only a temporary reprieve, a short pause in a war that was far from over.

Jasmine wiped the sweat and grime from her brow, her hands trembling as the adrenaline drained from her body. Every inch of her felt bruised, her muscles burning with exhaustion. But she couldn't rest, not yet.

She turned to look for Caden. He had been beside her through most of the battle, their swords moving in tandem, each of them protecting the other. But in the chaos of the fight, they had been separated, and now she couldn't see him through the smoke and debris.

Panic gnawed at the edges of her mind as she scanned the battlefield, her breath catching in her throat. She started to move, her legs unsteady beneath her as she stumbled through the aftermath of the fight, calling his name.

"Caden!" Her voice cracked, hoarse from shouting commands during the battle. "Caden, where are you?"

Her heart pounded harder with each passing second, fear clawing at her chest. He had to be here. He had to be alive. She couldn't bear the thought of losing him, not now, not after everything they had been through together.

Finally, through the haze, she spotted him. He was sitting against a tree near the edge of the ridge, his head bowed, his sword resting limply in his hand. Relief flooded through Jasmine, but it was short-lived.

As she approached, she saw the blood—too much blood.

"Caden," she breathed, rushing to his side.

He looked up at her, his face pale, his eyes filled with pain. His armor was torn, a deep gash running across his side, blood soaking through his shirt. Jasmine's stomach twisted at the sight, and she dropped to her knees beside him.

"You're hurt," she said, her voice shaking as she reached for him. "We need to get you to the healers."

Caden winced as he shifted, his hand pressing against the wound in a futile attempt to stem the bleeding. "It's too late, Jasmine," he said softly, his voice strained. "I've lost too much blood."

"No," Jasmine said, shaking her head. "No, don't say that. We can still—"

Caden reached up, his hand brushing against her cheek, stopping her words. His touch was gentle, but there was a finality in his eyes that sent a cold wave of dread through her.

"Jasmine," he said, his voice quiet but steady. "Listen to me. You have to go on without me."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she shook her head again, refusing to accept what he was saying. "I'm not leaving you," she whispered fiercely. "I'm not."

Caden's hand tightened around hers, his grip weak but insistent. "You have to," he said. "There's still a war to fight, and they need you. The rebels need you. You're their leader now."

Jasmine's chest tightened, her heart breaking as she looked into his eyes. She could see the pain he was in, the struggle it took just for him to speak. But she couldn't let him go. Not like this.

"I can't do this without you," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I need you, Caden. I can't—"

"You can," he interrupted, his voice firm despite the pain. "You're stronger than you think, Jasmine. You always have been."

He paused, his breath coming in short, labored gasps. Jasmine could see the color draining from his face, his skin growing paler by the second. She pressed her hand against his wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. The wound was too deep.

"I'm sorry," Caden whispered, his voice barely audible now. "I wanted to be there with you, to fight by your side until the end. But I can't."

Jasmine shook her head, her throat tight with grief. "Don't say goodbye," she choked out. "Not yet."

Caden's hand cupped her cheek again, his touch warm despite the cold that was creeping into his body. His eyes softened as he looked at her, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"I love you, Jasmine," he said, his voice trembling. "I always have."

The words hit her like a punch to the chest, and she felt her heart shatter. She had known, deep down, that he felt that way. But hearing it now, in this moment, felt like a cruel twist of fate.

"I love you too," she whispered, her voice breaking. "So don't leave me. Please."

Caden's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts. Jasmine could feel his life slipping away, and she clung to him, desperate to hold on to whatever time they had left.

But then his breathing slowed, and his hand slipped from her cheek, falling limply to his side. His eyes opened one last time, a faint smile still on his lips.

"Goodbye, Jasmine," he whispered, his voice barely a breath.

And then, he was gone.

Jasmine let out a sob, her body shaking as she cradled him in her arms. The world around her seemed to blur, the sounds of the battlefield fading into the background. All she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat, pounding in her ears as she held Caden's lifeless body close.

She didn't know how long she sat there, her tears falling onto his bloodstained armor. Time seemed to lose all meaning, the world around her a distant, muted haze.

Eventually, one of the rebels approached, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Jasmine," they said softly, their voice full of sympathy. "We need to move. The king's forces will regroup soon."

Jasmine didn't respond at first, her mind still lost in the numbness of grief. But then, slowly, she nodded, her movements stiff and mechanical. She stood up, her legs shaking beneath her as she took one last look at Caden's face.

"I'll finish what we started," she whispered, her voice raw with pain.

With that, she turned away, her heart heavy with loss. The battle was far from over, and she would have to carry on without him.

But the hardest part of this war would always be saying goodbye.