Young Writers Society

“Arrgh! I’m so sick and tired of all this!” blurted Theo. He shoved the empty bowl away and leaned his forearm on his knee.

“‘All of ‘what? The rabbit stew?” Eileen asked. “Or do you mean living in the forest? I mean I guess it can get kind of old—“

“No, this!” exasperated Theo, gesturing to their campsite and forest canopy above.

Confused, Eileen asked, “You just gestured to all of this.”

“Yes!”

“I’m not following. What are we talking about again?”

“Urgh, just— I’m sick and tired of being the hero all the time.”

Eileen chuckled to herself, “What are you talking about? What’s so wrong with being the hero? Everybody wants to be the hero of their own story.” Eileen continued stirring her own bowl of broth.

“Not me!” interjected Theo, “I would rather live a quiet life, maybe farm or be a blacksmith, not gallivant through the forest at everyone's beck and call! It's tiring!”

Theo fell back on to the grass with his arms outstretched. He stared up at the few stars that peered through the foliage.

“So dramatic,” Eileen said under her breath. Theo ignored her, and rubbed his tired face with his hands.

Eileen sighed and stopped attending to the stew. Theo waited, listening intently to what she was doing next. He heard the clanging of the pots and tools in one of the sacks, rummaging to find something or reorganize their things. She often did that when things felt awkward.

The pine trees swayed gently above and the needles delicately landed around Theo. A shadow glided through the branches, so silent and undisturbed by their intrusion. Jealousy rushed through Theo’s face. An owl could do as it pleases, hunting at night, sleeping during the day with no where to be and little decisions to make. Theo wished that he could be just as free with no obligations or damsels in distress.

Eileen glanced back at him. With his curly auburn hair, chiseled jaw, and trimmed beard, he certainly had the look of a hero every story needed. She, however, always knew she would be the side character in any adventure, always trailing behind the protagonist in their search for destiny, love, or riches. He never hears her complain about it, so why should he? Sooner or later he will finish his hero journey, fall in love, settle down, and live out the rest of his life in pure bliss, reaping off his efforts! People would kill for that opportunity. Literally. Being a woman, she was fortunate enough to be even chosen to aid a protagonist on their quests.

Eileen furrowed her brows and shoved the remaining pots back into the sack. She should be the one complaining. After all, she’s the one taking care of the supplies, food, horses, and pulling his sorry-butt out of a tight spot when trouble stirs. She should be the one getting the glory, riches, and falling in love. Eileen glared at Theo and caught his eye.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing,” she muttered turning away.

Theo rolled back his head. “Oh, right, sorry,” he said peaking Eileen’s interest. “Thanks for dinner, it was good.”

Eileen rolled her eyes so hard she imagined herself punching him in his perfect teeth. “You’re welcome,” she answered coldly.

- - - - -  - - - - - -  - - - - - - -  - -- - - - - - - - - - - - -  - - - - - - -

The cool morning air sent chills up Theo’s spine. He shivered in his sleep, snuggling further under his quilt. He heard the birds chirping nosily in the trees and felt warm breath on his cheek. He smiled and rolled onto his back. The smell of apples filled his senses as something brushed his hair back. “Stop,” he teased. “Not now, sweetheart, I’m tryin’ to sleep.”

“‘Sweetheart’? Who you calling ‘sweetheart’?”

Theo flashed his eyes open and stared straight into the mouth of his bay horse. Startled, Theo let out a stifled scream, “Dauntless! What the—?!”, and pushed him aside. Eileen laughed like a mocking bird, taking a pause from hoisting sacks onto her speckled grey horse, Deference.

“Stop it! It’s not funny!” He shouted, throwing off the quilt and getting up as fast as he could.

“‘Stop, sweetheart,’” Eileen mocked, “‘I’m trying to sleep.’ Who were you dreaming about this time, Felicity? Valeria?” Theo blushed as Eileen laughed some more He snatched up his quilt and started stuffing it in Dauntless’ saddle bag.

“Or was it Maria? She makes the most delicious sweet cakes —“

Theo glared at her as she continued rattling off names of young women he saved over the years, all who were more beautiful than the last.

“—Oh, and you can’t forget precious Ms. Xiao, she wouldn’t stop squeezing your cheeks, and your arms —“

“Eileen!”

“What?”

Theo rubbed his forehead. “Can we not list all the women we’ve encountered?”

Eileen smirked. “The women you’ve encountered, I was always the one in the background trying to fix your messes,” she corrected as she finished fastening the sacks.

“Okay now, don’t do that,” snapped Theo.

Eileen continued tightening Deference’s cinch. “Do what? It’s true—”

“You telling me that I’m always the one in the spot light.” Theo threw the reigns over Dauntless’s head. “You had your fair share of ‘run-ins’ with plenty of handsome men this past year—“

“Two and a half.”

“Come again?”

“It’s been two and a half years.”

Theo furrowed his eyebrows. “Has it really been that long?”

Eileen looked back at Theo. “That we’ve been working together? Yeah,” she added, “how could you forget?”

Theo darted his eyes around the empty campsite, attempting to avoid Eileen’s disgusted stare with no avail. “I didn’t forget,” he apologized, “I’ve just had other sidekicks, plus, time flies when you’re storming castles and saving villages.” Theo crossed his arms and stepped closer. “Look. All I’m saying is that I don’t see why you should be complaining about being the sidekick. Besides, it’s a lot of work being in the public eye all the time, it gets old real quick.”

“—and those ‘men’ you’re talking about,” interjected Eileen, “are either young robbers or old merchants. Do you have any idea what a woman wants?”

Theo shrugged. “A hero?”

Eileen sighed and shook her head. “Forget it. Let’s get going, we need to get to Rattlesnake Point by dusk if we are to cut off the Red Wolves.” Eileen swung up on top of Deference and looked down at her hands for a moment before kindly teasing, “are you coming, sweetheart?”

Theo caught a glimpse of her sly smile, his eyes softened and took a deep breath. “Right behind you, ah … water lily.”

Eileen laughed softly. She knew Theo wouldn’t understand and there was no point of him digging himself deeper, they needed to be ready for the coming battle. Besides, this story is supposed to be about the hero, right?