[Featured on WATTPAD PICKS]
The last thing you'd imagine Earth's General having is an identity crisis, let alone in the middle of an interstellar war, but for General Avalyn Concerto she begs to differ.
...
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Blood was everywhere. All over Ava's gloves. Her clothes. In her hair. She couldn't stop shaking, shaking through her grip and into the sword.
Everything was sticky.
Everything smelled like death.
What have I done?
The last thing Ava remembered was Marc shouting at her through the earphone, telling her to stand down. She remembered how cocky she felt, how determined she was to end the battle before it raged into a nonstop war. She remembered fighting at the center of the chaos, sword in hand, its blue ember glowing where the blade met her grip—the taste of victory on the edge of her tongue.
Then everything went dark.
What have I done?
Junipea grabbed her shoulders and shook her out of her stupor. Ava looked him in the eyes, they were wary, searching. Blood dripped off his majestic orange curls, dripped off his square chin, ran down his neck. It splattered on his body, adding to the millions of freckles already coating his skin.
"Ava, is that you?" Junipea gasped, choking a breath down. His throat was raw from yelling or arguing, or could be both. "Ava."
"What—yes. It's me. But what happened? What about the battle? Did we win?" Ava searched the field.
Mounds of bodies surrounded them on all sides, human and alien. Black and white uniforms mixing with swords mixing with gold and red blood. Lifeless. No one left alive. Smoke dwindled as City Base 8 burned to the ground, sliced down the middle with jagged rocks perked from the crust.
What have I done?
Junipea's thumb caressed Ava's cheek, drawing her attention back. His eyes watered. He was only two years older than her, nineteen. They've been inseparable since the day they met. This was only the second time she'd seen him cry.
"Looks like you finally caught me." A corner rose on his lips. Blood dripped from his mouth to his clothes. "I'm sorry I wasn't quicker."
Ava froze.
Junipea grabbed her hand, veraciously shaking the hilt. And that's when she saw it—her sword stabbed through his gut.
This wasn't happening.
This couldn't be real.
Oh, god. What have I done!
"You need to pull it out." Junipea wheezed.
Ava frantically shook her head. "No—no, that will make it worse. We need to find a medic. Where's Marc? He can help. He can fix this. He—"
He placed his hand on top of hers. "It's too late... I've lost too much blood already."
She trembled, tears ran off her cheeks. "No no no no no..."
He fell into Ava's body. She barely had the strength to hold him. Her energy was so low. Her body wouldn't stop shaking. "Junipea... Please don't leave me... Just hold on. Let me find help. Someone help!"
"It'll be okay," he whispered in her ear. "Everything will be okay."
This can't be happening.
Junipea clenched her hand and pulled the sword out. A sigh escaped him, he could finally breathe. She remembered the first time they met at the arena. She never guessed this boy would risk his life for her. She never imagined he'd die by her sword and that he'd smile.
He held her chin, rubbed circles of blood on her cheek. He was cold to the touch, yet breathtakingly beautiful at this very moment. "All I ever wanted is for you to be happy."
Before death took him, Junipea kissed her on the lips—
Ava woke up.
The ceiling spun like a carousel. Sheets tangled her body, suffocating the oxygen out of her. She yanked the covers off, ran to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. Every night was torture. Every night she had this nightmare. This memory.
It's been two years since Ava killed Junipea. Would these nightmares ever stop?
No. Probably not until she either died or forgave herself. Neither was an option in Ava's mind. She wanted to feel the pain. She wanted to remember what it felt like to take the life of her best friend, her brother at arms—her first guardian. He was the first one to always have her back and he was the first friend to die at her hands.
The only way to atone for Junipea's death, to prevent this from happening to another loved one—she needed to find her missing birth record. Then she'd figure out what was wrong with her. Why she lost control and how she could control it again.
And today was that day.
There was a light knock on her bedroom door just before it slid open. Gio stepped inside, clad in his UFE uniform, black as the midnight sky, and the scimitar sword strapped to his back. He leaned in the bathroom threshold, peering at her through his blue tinted eyes.
"Are you ready for this?" he asked as if this wasn't the first time they snuck out and went behind their governments backs.
