Koen

I watched Kieran fall in love. I was there that mid-morning, the sun beating our backs as Pierce, Kieran and I sparred in the fields. Looking back, my brother and his best friend did most of the sparring, and I did most of the getting caught in between- but that wasn’t how I remembered it. It is customary to spar with wooden swords- ones that left bruises in place of cuts- but Kieran had just earned his first sword on his 16th birthday. He insisted on using his gift, but since that would put Pierce at a disadvantage, they both settled on real, steel swords. A brilliant decision, truly. I’ve forgotten many things in the years since, but this day sunk into my bones like the jaws of a rabid beast. Pierce aimed at my brother, grinning, his blade and his slick, golden hair glinted in the sun alike. Kieran grinned back, his long, dark hair sticking to his neck with sweat. He smiled nothing could touch him. Like he had forever. Each muscle in my brother’s arms and back work in tandem, tensing, releasing, pushing, giving as their blades clash. Kieran didn’t notice, but I did. He’d nicked Pierce’s dominant arm. The blonde boy swiftly switches his sword into his uninjured hand, but the piercing tip of Kierans sword was already aimed into Pierce’s chest.