Battlefields, Shields, & Shaky Hearts

There is a struggle involved when we care about someone other than ourselves. There is a need to fight a battle with our emotions and those of the other involved. Our swords clash and our shields sway back and forth. We try to protect ourselves from obvious blows, but stealth attacks always find their way through our armor. I watched an ally in battle today. It was a quick one. They came in swift, yet abrupt. Their shields in hands but it seemed they weren't holding their sword. It lie by their side as they ran into the battlefield they had grown to memorize. I saw the attack coming, but I couldn't save them. They ran right into the sword. Though it missed the vital organs, it nicked the heart and nipped at the dignity that remained. Blood, remorse, and self respect ran down their chest and covered them. I bow my head in mourning and tighten my grip on my weapon now. There is nothing I can do. We saw the same thing, but it was not my battle to fight. So I just sit silent in remembrance and a state of grief. My battle will soon arrive, and I now know how not to lose.