Within the borders of the beautiful land of Pridor stood the royal castle. Old, gray stone lined with marble trim and limestone accents, windows bigger than the main gates. Outside of those windows, the once colorful kingdom now lived in a cloud of dust and gloom, dragged down by the war raging on Pridor’s grounds. Screams and cries for help were muffled by the thick blanket of dirt, clashing swords, and hooves thumping against the ground. On the other side of the windows, inside the walls of the castle, stood Prince Arda and his personal knight, Gideon Grant. Between the pair of friends, anger boiled like water in a kettle over fire, causing more tension between them than the neighboring kingdoms now ensnared within a bloody war.
“I can’t believe you,” Arda grumbled, staring at Gideon with a harsh look in his eyes. “You decided you would just… just lie to us. Are you crazy, Gideon? You don’t think maybe telling us your parents were traitors to the kingdom would’ve been important? Just maybe?”
“Did you expect me to announce that to the entire world?” Gideon asked, his tone just as hardened as his stare. “I’m not proud of it, Arda! It’s humiliating!”
“It’s still important, Gideon! We need to know something like that —”
“Why?” Gideon asked, his hardened tone shaking a bit. “Just so you can judge me based on the things they’ve done. Make me work harder than I already have for something I’ve dreamed of my entire life? That isn’t fair! Arda, I worked my whole life for this. I did everything I needed to do to get here. If I had walked in and announced that my parents were traitors, I would have never gotten to this point.”
“Gideon, they were traitors!” Arda exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you not get that? Traitors! They became spies for Aclye from the inside.”
“I know that!” Gideon replied. “But why should the choices they made lay the bricks of my path? I didn’t make those choices for them; they made those choices for themselves.”
“Gideon, you swore under oath to be completely transparent with the royal family. That was part of your initiation. How did you go all this time, under oath, and lie?”
“I was transparent, Arda. You just choose to hold their actions and their history over my head. I had nothing to do with the things they chose to do to your family. Nothing. I shouldn’t have to pay the price for their actions, just as someone else should not have to pay the price for any actions I choose to make. You’re just too caught up in the truth to see that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a war to fight in.”
“No,” Arda grumbled, stepping in front of Gideon. “I’m not going to let you just… just walk away! You don’t get to do that. Even if you weren’t going to be truthful under oath, why didn’t you at least tell me?”
“Because you hold grudges, Arda,” Gideon replied. “You never react with level headedness. When things don’t go your way, you throw a tantrum as if that will change things. I chose to keep that information from you for my sake as well as yours. I create my future. Not my parents, not my career, not anyone. So just… get out of my way. Please.”
Right as Arda was about to rebut Gideon’s argument, he was stopped by another loud, authoritative voice calling out down the hallway. The voice belonged to his father, who was shouting for Gideon. “We need you,” he exclaimed, “We’re slowing down, and their knights aren’t backing down. Let’s go, kid! We need you on the battlefield!”
Gideon’s attention was turned to the hallway when he was called for. His hardened gaze softened just slightly into a more nervous look as he returned his eyes to meet Arda’s. Just as quickly as the nerves hit, however, Gideon was dashing off down the hallway, towards his bedroom where he kept his armor and weapons.
In a wave of memorized motions, Gideon slid his chest plate into place and tied the straps across his back. He then slipped his feet into his metal boots, clasping the straps across the top of his feet and around his ankles. The next piece of armor were the shin guards, thigh guards and knee pads, which made Gideon shiver a bit under the chill of the silver metal. After every other piece was in place, Gideon slid his helmet down over his head, strapping it under his jaw. After all of this, he picked up his sword from the mount on his wall and slid it into the holster on his hip. After one final, longing glance around the bedroom he spent months feeling safe in, he turned away and dashed down the rest of the hallway, heading straight for the battlefield.
As Gideon turned away and headed off to war, Arda was left behind, standing stunned in front of the massive window, staring out at the village-turned-battlefield. Arda watched from above as the bloody war raged on. Metal clinked and clashed against metal; screams echoed off the walls and alleys of the homes lining the sidewalks and dirt paths of Pridor. The bodies of the lifeless were scattered all over. Pools of blood were under each body, draining from the insides and drowning the dirt in crimson red. Horses, abandoned by murdered owners, whinnied out of fear as they ran frantically. Their hooves thumped against the ground as they tore through the village, trampling everything and anything in their paths. The soldiers that were left were bloodied and wounded, crying out for help, begging for mercy against their potentially fatal injuries. Pridor’s lush, fruitful lands had become a lifeless warzone, scarred from the wrath of Gideon’s parents — parents Gideon had kept secret, a connection and truth only Arda knew.
After Gideon’s departure, Arda took off for the family bunker as quickly as he could. With Gideon and his father out on the battlefield, Arda had no business standing in front of the giant window, waiting for intruders to get in. He would rather live to see tomorrow.
He used his key, which was handcrafted by the weaponsmith for him when he was a baby, to unlock the bunker door. Inside sat his mother, who was holding his baby brother while huddled in the corner of the room, as far as they could get from the door. He saw his mother tense when he walked in, then deflate in relief at the sight of her son, rather than an intruder.
“Arda…” his mother whispered, a relieved smile appearing on her face. “You’re okay…”
“Momma…” Arda murmured, stepping closer to his mother and his brother. “I… What’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know, honey,” she replied. “I have hope —”
“No… I mean, what’s going to happen to… to Dad? Or Gideon?” Arda sat on the floor of the bunker, beside his mother and brother. He held out a hand for his brother to hold and play with as he continued.
“Gideon left without saying goodbye. We were arguing when dad called him to war… I… I’m terrified that something will happen to him. The last memory he’ll have of me is the fight, and the last memory I’ll have of him is his anger…”
“Oh, Arda… I know how scary it is. When our home went to war years ago, your father was sent to fight alongside the knights of that time. He was determined that things would be fine, but of course I had my doubts. We fought about it, and he left angry with me. Of course, things happened to go much better than they are right now, and your father returned home healthy and victorious. But, I know this fear you’re feeling. You’re afraid Gideon won’t return home.”
“I just…” Arda stuttered. “I just wish I had said goodbye, or good luck. Something to make amends before he took off. I know the risks he takes just being a knight for the kingdom. But, it’s so gruesome out there, Mom. He might not… He…”
Using her free arm, the Queen pulled Arda to her side, running a comforting hand through his hair. “I know, baby. Please don’t stress, okay? It won’t help, and you need to think positively. Gideon is incredibly talented for his age. I’m going to have hope that he’ll be okay. Can you try to do that with me?”
All Arda gave his mother was a tiny nod, leaving their conversation to fall into silence. This silence rang within the confines of the bunker for hours, leaving tension, apprehension and a bit of impatience to seep into the air. To Arda, these hours seemed to be equivalent to a lifetime. It left him in a trance of thoughts, constantly asking himself what he was going to do until the war was over. That is, until the horns of peace were blown outside of the bunker, signaling Pridor’s victory over their enemies. The horns meant to ease his anxiety only created more, as the minutes ticked by. Where were the knights? Was his father okay? Was Gideon okay?
One of his many questions was answered as his father’s keys turned the lock, opening the door to allow the rest of the royal family to escape to their peace. Beside the King was Commander Quinn, who was doing what he could to nurse multiple tiny wounds across his arm. When the door swung open, Quinn looked to the queen and the princes, his gaze coming to a stop when meeting Arda’s.
“Your highness,” he greeted hesitantly. “I want to inform you that your personal knight, Gideon, has been taken to the intensive care unit of the infirmary. Reports from the nursing staff say he’s in critical condition. One of my other knights said he witnessed Gideon getting into a fight with his parents. He held his own, but it was bloody. He did kill them, though.”
Arda felt his heart drop to the darkest pits of his stomach when Quinn broke the news to him. It was like his worst nightmares were coming to life. Gideon was brutally injured. There was a chance he wasn’t going to survive his injuries.
“Let me through, let me through!” he exclaimed, pushing past his family and the Commander. Arda sprinted down the hallway, making turns left and right, going down flights of stairs until he arrived right outside of the infirmary. A gentle hand was placed on his chest by Penelope Trinkett, the head nurse for the royal family and their knights. She and Arda had grown quite close when he was younger, mostly because he liked to play pranks on the royal staff when he was bored.
“I’m sorry, Prince Arda,” Penelope said in the gentlest voice she could give him. “But I can’t let you in to see him yet. I know you’re worried, but for my staff and me to help him, we need all the space we can get. Nobody can be distracted right now. I’m sorry. Soon, honey, okay? For now, stay here. I’ll fetch you when things level out.”
Arda reluctantly flopped down into a chair right outside the infirmary, waiting in purgatory, for Penelope to allow him in. Seconds turned to minutes, which then turned to hours and nothing seemed to change. It only made Arda worry more, that Gideon was going to succumb to his injuries before Arda could give him a farewell, or even an apology.
“How is he?” Commander Quinn asked, walking over and sitting beside Arda. All he was given from Arda in return was a shake of his head.
“They won’t let me in until he’s stable,” Arda murmured. “That was hours ago, Quinn. What if…What if his injuries kill him? I… I’m so worried about him.”
“I’m sure he’ll scold me later for this, but he requested to fight his parents all alone. When they faced the last remaining knights in the center of the village, he stepped forward through the crowd with the darkest, most angry glare I’ve ever seen on his face before. The look he gave them… It was full of pure, unadulterated hatred, Prince. I think… I think Gideon wanted the satisfaction of ridding this world of them once and for all, after all the heartache they caused his home.”
“But, why did he have to do it alone?” Arda asked in a whisper. Why would he think it was a smart idea for him to battle them both by himself? He… He’s so stupid.”
“I have an inkling that he wanted to prove something to the remaining brigade. Prove that their actions do not influence his own, which is outrageous,” Quinn grumbled. “I would have never doubted his ability for a second. Gideon is one of the best knights Pridor has seen within my time as the commander. His family history means nothing to me. His skill is what matters.”
“He… Oh, Quinn…” Arda mumbled. “He felt he had to prove himself because of me. Before Dad called him to fight, we were arguing. I chastised him for keeping his family lineage a secret, and one of the last things he said to me was his family’s actions don’t create his path, he does. I feel so terrible for fighting with him before he was sent to battle. Will I ever get to make amends?”
“The best thing we can do right now is hope,” Quinn replied, placing a hand on Arda’s shoulder. “Gideon is not only talented, but he’s strong. It’s going to take a lot before he gives up this fight, and if I know him well enough, I know he was fighting for you. You’re his best friend, Arda. You’re the reason he didn’t quit when he first started and was treated like the servant boy for the brigade. You’re the reason he continues to work hard, arguably more than he should some days. It’s all so he can protect you. It’s all for you. You’re his inspiration. Don’t let this little scuffle be the thing that tears your friendship apart. I have hope Gideon will survive. Where’s your hope for him, Prince Arda?”
The words Quinn spoke hit a nerve in Arda’s heart, but not in a sense to make him cry. He knew Quinn was right about what he said. Gideon was not only skilled, but he was extremely strong and stubborn as hell. He would never leave this life without making amends. The two of them had to make up now.
“Prince Arda,” Penelope called, peeking out from around the doorframe. “We have him stable. You may come in now. Please, be gentle.”
Arda shot up from his seat and quickly made his way to Gideon’s bedside. It hurt his chest to see his best friend bedridden, wrapped with gauze, his wounds drowning in a mix of rubbing alcohol and healing creams. But, no matter how painful it was to see him like that, Arda knew it meant that Gideon had a chance. That’s what had to matter to him.
Once Penelope stepped out of the room, Arda knelt beside Gideon’s bed and placed a gentle hand on his friend’s wrist. “Gideon? I know you’re probably asleep, which is good, because you need it. But I need to talk to you. So, listen in your sleep, you stubborn ass, because this is important. Uh… You’re not going to like hearing this, but Quinn told me you requested to fight your parents alone. I know you get your skill from them, whether you ever admit it or not. They were the best knights of their time for a reason. Anyway, you get it from them. You’ve been such a gift to me and my family. So, I owe you an apology. Keeping your family heritage a secret from me really should not have mattered, and I don’t know why I made it matter. You are Gideon Grant. You are not your parents. I’m so sorry. If I could go back and change what I said to you, I would.”
Arda stared down at Gideon, searching for any trace of comprehension in his static expression. When he got nothing, he took a tiny breath in, then continued speaking.
“I’m not sure if you’re going to survive your injuries. Penelope doesn’t even know. But, if your final act as a knight for us was to take down your tyrannical parents, then I am going to make it my life’s mission to guarantee the people of Pridor remember your name. They will never again remember you as the son of traitors, but rather as Pridor’s hero. As for me, I will always remember the servant boy who would play in the gardens with me during his breaks. The teenager who begged for a chance to try out for the knight’s brigade. I’ll remember that little temper tantrum you threw when Dad assigned you to the guard position instead. Right after you spent years being the servant boy fresh out of basic training. I’m going to remember the best moments I had with you. You’re my best friend. I want to keep it that way, whether you wake up tomorrow or not.”
Arda’s gaze darkened just a bit when, yet again, not even a stir came from Gideon. Arda removed his hand from Gideon’s wrist and backed away. He headed back out into the hall to grab one of the lobby chairs and move it into Gideon’s room. Arda ended up staying in Gideon’s room for days, waiting for any sign that Gideon was going to wake up. As time went on, he began losing the hope Quinn told him to have. All he did was watch Gideon, eat and sleep. He refused to leave and asked a million questions every single time a nurse came in to check on Gideon.
On the fourth night of waiting in Gideon’s room, just as Arda was drifting off to sleep, he heard a groan from across the room. Upon perking his head up from the uncomfortable chair, which had turned into his temporary bed, he saw Gideon starting to move around a bit, glancing about his room until his gaze locked onto Arda.
“You’re okay! Holy shit, you’re alive!” Arda exclaimed, jumping up from the chair and dashing to Gideon’s bedside.
“Yeah… I am,” Gideon replied, letting out a tiny yawn. “And still surprisingly tired.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Arda said, giving Gideon a small smile. “So glad.”
“Yeah, I know. I heard your tangent,” Gideon teased, a smile growing on his face as Arda’s cheeks burned red.
“All of it?”
“Every single word. Quite cute, really. You gave a whole speech about me to me.”
“You’re an idiot,” Arda whined, putting his face in his hands. “That was meant to be special! You’re not funny.”
“I will forever hold that over your head, Prince. You’re never living that one down.”
“I know I’m not, but I hope you know that I meant every single word I said. And that I’m sorry — ”
“I know, Arda. I’m sorry too, for getting so angry at you. If I had known this was all going to happen, I wouldn’t have been so mean. I’m glad we got the chance to reconcile. It would’ve killed me if I didn’t get my best friend back.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me,” Arda said with a smile. “Get some rest, yeah? You’re one of the best knights we have. We can’t afford to be without you right now.”
“I’ll heal as quickly as I can. You owe me a spar when I recover,” Gideon replied. “I need to kick your ass to make up for the fighting we did.”
Arda let out a chuckle, saying, “You’re on, Gideon.”
Sierra Auman is an English major at the Penn State University Park campus! “When I’m not studying or in class, I am writing. Whether it be answering prompts out of a prompt book or just writing drabbles such as this, my brain is always creating a new story! My goals after college are to be a published author.”
Follow Sierra on Instagram: @sierraaumanpsu