The man stopped, staring down. His shoulders, all of him, drooped, revealing much.
Her chest grew heavy as she ran forward. The soldier lay, the blood from his near severed leg soaking the ground at his side. It was not his only wound. His stomach was pierced as well. His chest rose and fell, but it was labored and unsteady.
“He has little time left,” the man murmured. “His wounds are too great.”
She nodded, fighting panic. If only she were Apollo, she would heal him.
The soldier, a mere boy, moved. His hands contracted, claw-like fingers seeking some sort of anchor in the earth beneath him. She knelt by the soldier, taking one grasping hand in hers and leaning over him.
“You’ve honored Greece,” she whispered.
The boy turned murky eyes upon her, fading already. “Have I?” His hand tightened about hers. “I fought. But…there were so many… I ran…”
She smiled brightly, hoping to ease him. “You will have glory.”
“In Elysium?” the boy gasped.
She squeezed the boys’ hands, wishing she could do more. Hades, hear me, she prayed silently. “I’m sure of it.”
The boy nodded once. His body seized, tightening awkwardly, sharply, before gradually relaxing. A faint smile crossed his face as his grip loosened upon her. His chest stilled then fell slowly, his final breath a hiss of air that wavered and stopped. His eyes cleared, the lines bracketing his mouth relaxed, and a thin stream of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.
He was gone.
She sat back, tears falling freely down her face. She sniffed, placing the boy’s hand gently upon his chest. She heard the tremor in her voice as she asked, “Will he?”
“Will he?” His voice was softer than she’d expected.
She looked up at the man, astonished to see pain and anguish within the depths of his blue-black eyes. When his eyes met hers, his face stilled, becoming remote and distant once more.
She sniffed. “Reach Elysium? Will Hades find him worthy, I wonder? He is a child yet, too young to have earned tru
e glory, too young to have fallen alone.”
“This boy died for the honor of his country. That is worthy of Elysium, is it not?”
“Yes? Surely it is…” She blinked, wiping her tears with an unsteady hand. “I hope so. But I am not Hades.”
The man’s mouth twisted sharply, surprising her. “No, you are not.”
She turned back to the soldier. How still he was. Her tears fell, landing on the grass. A carpet of tiny blue flowers sprang up, embracing the boy in the thick, fragrant blooms. Her tears moved the grass and the earth, or perhaps this boy’s sacrifice moved her friends as well. She touched the ground, murmuring her thanks at such kindness. This was his memorial.
She picked one, placing it upon the boy’s chest.
“He must have a coin to pay the ferryman.” She’d given her word that he’d reach Elysium. But she did not have the one thing he needed to make such a journey. She stared up at the man, pleading, “Do you have a coin?”
The man’s face remained impassive, but his eyes were riveted upon the tiny blue flowers that continued to blossom. But she could not worry over it now. Who she was seemed of little importance next to this boy’s eternal fate.
She scanned the boy’s body, finding a small pouch tied to his belt. She reached for it, pausing to look at the man. “Can I?”
The man’s brow rose. “You seek a coin for his crossing?”
She nodded. “I do.”
The hard set of his face remained, but his eyes held no censure when they met hers. “He would thank you for it, I’m sure.”
She pulled the pouch free and poured the contents into her hand. Two coins, a smooth rock and a very thin, pointed stick were inside. She took a coin and placed the rest back in the pouch, tying it back to the belt.
She stared at the boy, her hand shaking as she touched his cheek.