Dragon Horse

Aroon, Xolani, and Nikolaos sprint for the platform from the north, east, and west.

"Don't go, don't go, don't go!" Aroon shouts at the train.

"No, no, no!" Xolani lunges for the last compartment. "I have to feed Felix, or he'll eat Uni!"

I can't be late! Nikolaos thinks while waving the turbojet down. He collapses onto his seat a split second before it takes off.

Aroon slumps into the front seat of the left row.

Xolani shifts on his feet in the corridor, his fingers constricting around a grab rail. Then, his line-of-sight slinks over to Nikolaos.

"Nikolaos, is that you?"

Nikolaos stares straight ahead, only looking over and activating his hearing aid when Xolani shuffles into his periphery and taps him on the shoulder.

"We've met on this train before, haven't we?"

Nikolaos nods and deactivates his hearing aid to stare straight ahead again.

Xolani shuffles back to the front, but Aroon catches his wrist before he can touch her.

"I'm-Xolani?"

"That's me."

Aroon lets go of him. Xolani stretches his wrist.

The three sit in the silence until Aroon calls out to Nikolaos.

"How do you know Xolani, dicrip?"

Xolani grasps the grab rail harder, the silhouettes of six Smilodon swarming the space around him. "Don't call him that."

"What's wrong with calling him a dicrip?" Aroon crosses her arms.

"Because you're calling him weak, and he has a name: Nikolaos."

"General Chiyou is a dicrip, and he's far from weak."

The Smilodon slink into the shadows of the seats. Aroon, and Nikolaos come back into focus.

"He has no left leg, but the north doesn't remember him for that." Aroon's nails cut into her palms. "Even the subquates won't forget that he was our dawn in the darkest hour."

Nikolaos rips a page out of his notebook and holds it up.

He's my hero.

"Hero?" she huffs at that. "He's a breathing myth!"

Nikolaos continues to scribble.

You got me there, General Chiyou is a breathing myth. My heroes are my ammi and baba.

"Copy that," Aroon says, but her smile shrinks away and she sinks into her seat.

The train screeches to a stop. The screen over the door reads NORTHWEST SECTOR. Nikolaos stuffs his notebook into his backpack and sprints past Xolani. Aroon bars him with her arm.

"Where are you going?"

Nikolaos stares through the transparent automatic doors at the platform. On the platform, Cadmus waves to him, carrying his xyston and his shield. Then, the doors slide apart, bisecting his kid brother, who flickers out with the lights.

I have to write a letter. Nikolaos pushes Aroon's arm down, and the doors click closed behind him.

Aroon and Xolani look at each other, back at the doors, and then, back at each other.

"Your mother and father are your heroes?" Xolani asks as he scratches under his scarf.

Aroon narrows her eyes. "What’s wrong with that?"

"No, I get it." Xolani scratches harder. "My parents, they saved my life."

Aroon uncrosses her arms, her pupils contracting when a scar peeks out from under the fabric encircling his neck.

"That’s why you wear it," she says shakily.

Xolani stops scratching.

"Why would you do that?"

"I don't have to work on a punching bag because I already know fifty ways to kill a man without punching them," Xolani answers through his teeth as he straightens the scarf. "I’m…a weapon that shouldn't have been made.

Aroon scoots one seat over.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For asking."

"Don't be." Xolani's stance solidifies. "I'm sorry in advance for what I'm about to ask."

"Don't be, I can take a hit."

"How did your parents save you?"

"I don't know." Aroon picks at the scabs on her knuckles. "I only think about how I could have saved them." She doesn't wince when the scab comes off, and blood beads over the bone. "I won my final examination. But when I hit my opponent, and he had a hemorrhage." She crosses her arms. "My grandfather failed me for a reason."

The train screeches to a stop, but Xolani settles further into his seat. "That's why you aren't on the battlefield."

"That's why I'll never be on the battlefield."