39- A Stone's Throw

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My Lena,

It has been too long, again, since I have spoken to you. I want to tell you that I'll be better at writing, but I would not want to lie. Though the days are long, time is scarce. I hope that you aren't feeling ignored. Please, know that you are constantly on my mind. You are with me in every moment, in every breath I take, in every breeze I feel, in every star I see.

I'm sorry that you haven't been feeling well. Are you eating? When was the last time you slept through the night? Don't work yourself too hard. We are managing here just fine. The new salve compounds you sent last week are magnificent; King Menon and his troops express the utmost gratitude.

I wish that this could be longer, but two of Torena's emissaries have gone missing in the last month. I can not risk writing anything else, or it could compromise plans. I trust that you are receiving regular updates from Alex.

I love you endlessly.

Your favorite Zor-El,

Kara.

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Guilt overwhelmed Kara as she scribbled her signature on the scrap of paper and handed the dirty envelope to the page.

In the last month, she learned that his name was Jak, and he had inherited his bright green eyes from his mother, who passed away when he was three. He was an only child with no other family, so when his father's infantry company was assigned to the front lines he became the company page.

He had taken to appearing by her side, with an uncanny ability to sense the precise moment she needed him. After forty hours in the field, breaking apart boulders, forcing Luthorian lines back, carrying troops to the med bay, and meeting with ground commanders, he would seemingly materialize from nowhere with a plate of food and stare at her with huge guilty eyes until she ate it. He left full pitchers of water in her tent, and had even rescued her from an uncomfortable conversation with a drunk Bolenthian soldier by loudly announcing that she had been summoned to the strategy room - and then coming clean about the lie when the soldier stumbled off.

Today, he had appeared with a pencil and paper, pressing them into her hands eagerly until she finally stopped repairing her boot lace and wrote Lena a letter.

By the time she sealed the envelope and looked up again with bleary red eyes that spoke of far too little sleep, he had repaired the boot lace. She smiled up at him from the short wooden stool she was sitting on outside her tent.

"You're a good kid, Jak. I don't know what I would do without you here."

He subtly blushed, and tugged the letter from her grip.

"I imagine that you would be just fine, Princess - "

"Kara."

" -Kara, because you're the bravest person I know."

She chuckled at that, tugging her boot on and tying it tightly.

"It's easy to be brave when you're mostly invincible, kiddo." She stood and buckled her sword around her waist, before giving him a nod of approval. "I think you're the bravest person I know."

He looked up at her with wide eyes.

"Really?"

She put her hands on her knees to get eye level with him, and nodded.

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