A chill washed over her as the bearish thing escaped yet another one of her efforts to subdue it. Unencumbered by its large size and weight, it danced around her, flaunting it’s strange agility as it avoided her blade time and time again. She looked up, before freezing at the sudden sight of the beast coming at her.

In her tiredness, one thing became strangely clear. She was never a match for this thing, nor could she ever hope to be. At that moment, it was clear. The fight was over. She was dead.

In their short exchanges, it had somehow figured out all her movement patterns. Now, as it rushed at her, everything suddenly became evident. She’d lost her only advantage. Staring wide-eyed, she fell to her knees. There was no hope. She was going to die. It was over.

“Xiyana!” A voice rudely shouted, bursting uninvited into her world. “You can’t give up yet! Think of everyone looking up to you!”

What “everyone?” The recruits? Who would look up to someone who has so clearly grossly overestimated herself? Who would look up at someone who could barely survive against one of the most common forest enemies?

“Think of Xev!” The voice continued, sounding increasingly desperate. “Do you really want all your efforts, over these past few years, to go to waste? Are you really going to let yourself die like this? Goddammit, Xiyana! Think of what your death would mean to everyone! Think of Sylin!”

Right. Sylin. If she really died here, who would remember him? Who would give him the hero’s burial that he deserved? She clenched her fist. She couldn’t fall. Not yet. Not while he was still waiting for her.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her fallen weapon and quickly looked up. There was no time to come up with a plan. The creature was just a few steps from her. Holding the weapon directly out from her torso, she infused it with everything she had. At this point, the creature was too close to think of an alternative. It was either this or nothing.

All or nothing.

Even if it broke her arms, she would live to see Sylin again. Even if only his skeleton remained or even if he’d long become dust, she had to live. She had to live until she could personally confirm that truth… Until she could personally return his remains, or whatever she could find of him, to society… To the world where he belonged, regardless of who or what he was.

Even if no one would honor him, even if no one else remembered him, she couldn’t lose this fight. She looked up, at the creature less than a foot away. She would survive this. Even if it were just for him, she would come out of this battle alive.