The Cost

By Jillian Ponchot

He was near.

I gripped my sword, sweat dripping from its hilt. I’d been tracking him for days, almost catching a glimpse, but always he eluded me.

No more. He was an enemy from the East; he could not be allowed to invade our territory and live. It was the Sage’s orders.

A figure rushed to conceal himself behind a thick cluster of trees. This was my moment.

I wondered if he could overpower a girl of my stature. But no. I was Head Tracker—the Sage would not have appointed me to this mission if I was unready.

No longer concerned with stealth, I sprinted after him. He was ahead of me, but I’d roamed this forest since I was a little girl—he couldn’t outrun me for long.

I pushed harder. I was gaining on him. My heart raced.

Killing intruders was the only way to protect the West. The Sage had carved this mission into our minds from the beginning.

A moment later, I reached the thickened wood. I stilled, panting. There was no sound. No movement.

He was hiding.

I tried to slow my breathing, listening. The wind picked up. A bird twittered. Chills covered my arms. He was close.

Crack!

The noise came from my right. I whirled around, weapon raised. Someone slammed into me from behind.

I hit the ground hard, losing the hold on my blade, pinned. I struggled, shifting until I saw flesh and sunk my teeth into his skin, tasting blood. He yelped and faltered slightly.

That was all I needed.

I twisted and kicked, sending him stumbling. I dove for my sword and rose, facing him. He started to stand, but I kicked again, landing soundly on his midsection. He wheezed and went down.

I lunged, forcing him flat on his back, and pointed my blade to his neck.

“You dare invade the West, foreigner! Who else is with you?”

He stared up at me, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes. “Roe?”

I stilled. No one had called me Roe since before the Divide. “Where did you hear that name?”

“It’s me, Roe. It’s Will.”

Frowning, I studied the young man’s features. There was something familiar behind his emerald eyes…

With a jolt, they hit me. Memories from my earliest years flooded my mind. Memories from before the Divide, before I’d come under the Sage’s rule, before so much death.

When I’d been happy…

“You remember me, Roe. We used to play together.” He smiled. “Pretend we were soldiers in the king’s army. Steal apples from Mrs. Hansen’s orchard.”

“I remember,” I said softly. I lowered my weapon slightly—not enough to let him escape but just enough to think. “You made me a doll once. Out of straw. After I cried when the one Father had given me fell in the river.”

“I know, Roe. You were my best friend.”

Longing crept into my heart. Will had been my constant companion.

But why had he let me go?

I glared at him, feeling my heart reharden. “Why did you let them take me?”

Hurt pained Will’s features. “Roe, I never wanted to lose you. But they came so suddenly.” His voice broke. “I couldn’t stop them. I’ve been looking for you ever since. To unite us. And our lands.”

I frowned. I sensed no manipulation—he simply missed his friend.

Missed me.

But he was a threat, an invader—I had to kill him.

Didn’t I?

Will must have sensed my internal struggle, because he slowly reached for his trouser pocket. He pulled out a crude bunch of straw held together by twine and dressed in burlap.

Clara. I reached for the doll. “You kept this?”

“I hoped to give her back to you someday.”

I stared at the doll then back to my old friend. For years, I’d been trained to kill the Easterners. But weren’t we all one kingdom before the Divide? Hadn’t we fought for one another?

This was Will. My Will.

Sage would be furious.

But how could I kill him?

My hands trembled. I stared at my blade. One swift motion and he’d be dead. Will took a deep breath, preparing himself.

I raised my sword above my head.

And threw it to the side.

Reaching out my hand, I clasped it in his. “Will.”

“Hello, friend,” he said standing, and joy covered his face.

We embraced, his comforting heartbeat welcoming me. How could I have forgotten?

We pulled away, and his warm smile broadened.

Then it faded.

“Will, what—”

I never finished my sentence. Pain overwhelmed me. I looked down at my chest and saw the head of an arrow jutting out.

Falling to the dirt, I heard a rumbling voice behind me. “I sensed your weakening heart, Roewyn. Your emotions turned you against me.”

I didn’t have to look to know who spoke. The Sage.

Piercing pain exploded throughout my body. Will huddled over me.

“Run, Will,” I said through clenched teeth. “Before. It’s too. Late. Unite us.”

“Roe—”

“Go.” I looked into those familiar eyes and saw the heartbroken realization pass over his face.

We were out of time.

He gave me a final, longing nod and tore off through the wood.

My breaths came in shakes. The Sage reached me. He stepped over me and walked deeper into the forest, never looking back.

I’d been on the wrong side for so long. How had I not realized it before?

I stretched out my arm, ignoring the shooting pain, knowing I only had a moment. My fingers brushed Clara. I grasped the doll, bringing her to my bleeding chest, holding her close to my heart.

As my eyes closed and the world faded to black, I prayed.

May there be hope Will one day unites us all. May my death be worth the cost.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jillian Ponchot works as an administrative assistant to a high school where she gets to connect with kids and proofread and write for the marketing team. She’s passionate about learning, her family and friends, and Jesus. In addition to being proficient at Candy Crush, she also enjoys reading, writing short stories and attempting novels, playing Scrabble, listening to podcasts, and searching for passageways to Narnia.

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