Fractured Weapon, Fractured Hope

He had failed. Again.

Camden sat dejectedly on a crate in the cargo bay, the sword’s remnant fragments tossed uselessly on the ground in front of him. He raised his hand to his face, gently running his fingers along the tender bandaged area, flinching slightly as it stung beneath the soft press of his index finger. Each and every one of his patched up wounds burned with a sore, lingering pain, made only worse by the chilly nighttime air that seeped through the seal of the bay door.

He heard a door open and shut behind him, the metallic creaks of the hinges echoing off of the expansive walls, but chose to marinate in the feeling of his loss rather than actually turn around. Levo cautiously made his way into the room and sat down on a crate next to Camden, who refused to meet his gaze. So instead, Levo just looked forward.

“You were right.” Camden muttered, his voice a combination of disappointment, shame, and self-resentment. “All of it. The prophecy was a lie. Everyone was counting on me to save them…”

He took a deep breath in. “...And I failed.”

He looked back down at the sword fragments, lazily kicking some of them without much conviction. They slid slightly on the plated floor, mirroring Camden’s downcast attitude.

Levo looked up at his ally, his burns and bruises equally as sore from their failed mission. “Listen Camden, this was practically rigged from the beginning,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “To put the fate of the world, the fate of everyone still left alive, on the shoulders of a university student? We were set up for failure.”

“Why does it matter?!” Camden shot back. “Unlucky setup or not, they were counting on me! Everyone was counting on me. And now I've let them down.”

“But we’re still alive,” Levo reassured. “I don’t know why, but we live to fight another day. We’ve got that at least.”

Camden’s next sentence was almost a whisper, barely audible beneath his breath. “Maybe we shouldn’t,” he uttered, his voice nearly cracking. There were tears in his eyes.

Levo didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure if there even was anything to say. There was a pause before Levo spoke once more. “You still have the core that he gave you, right?”

Camden turned to look at his ally. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice rough. “What about it?”

“Nothing much,” Levo divulged. “I'm just glad you'll finally be able to go home. I know how much you've been wanting to.”

Camden looked mildly puzzled, which at least was better than hopelessly pessimistic. “Why are you being so kind to me? You're… well… you’re you. You're supposed to be harsh and mean and rude. What changed?”

A somber yet sympathetic look made its way onto Levo’s face. “Because I know how hard it is to fail. To be destined for greatness and have everyone believe that you are, only to falter at the last moment.”

Levo grinned slightly. “I think you're more like me than you realize. Whether that's a good thing or not, is up to you to decide.”

He paused briefly, feeling the air slowly cooling with the night, the subtle mechanical sounds of the vessel’s steam engine resonating throughout the room. It was almost calming, in a way. “Y’know, for what it’s worth…” he began to admit. “I was kinda hoping to be wrong on this one.”

Camden frowned, his eyes drifting back towards the ground. “Yeah, well, you were right. Now there truly isn’t any hope.”

“Shut up,” Levo contested sharply. “There only isn’t any hope if you believe there isn’t any. I said it once, and I’ll say it again, we made it this far without a saviour. And just because you didn’t save us doesn’t make you any less helpful.”

Camden remained silent, his eyes still glued to the fragmented metal spread across the flooring. But even though he didn’t react, Levo could tell that he was listening.

“Madam Cecilia told me about your bravery on the bridge,” Levo continued, his voice quiet and softer than usual. “Back when we first apprehended you. For all we know, it's possible that we all would have died had it not been for your courage and quick thinking.”

Camden however still didn’t respond, his eyes shifting to the cargo bay door. Levo wondered what was running through his mind.

“You gave us hope. Real, tangible hope,” Levo insisted. “We found the library. We found the blade. We even figured out what happened to your grandmother. We… learned how she betrayed us. But that’s besides the point.”

Levo’s voice intensified, if only slightly. “You motivated us to do things. To take risks. Even though we lost, you still got us closer to victory than anyone else. I think that’s worth something. Don't you?”

Silence still remained, the room jostling slightly from a bump in the road, before settling back to its typical gentle rumbling.

“A word of advice, one failed saviour to another?” Levo proposed. “Don’t let a stupid prophecy dictate who you’re supposed to be.”

Camden finally looked at him, a teary, aimless sadness in his eyes. “Then who am I?”

Levo put his hand on Camden’s shoulder, his determination resolute. “You’re Camden Valaraki. A boy displaced in time, who risked it all both to save those who he cared about, and to get back to those who meant so much to him. Someone who stood tall against impossible odds, whose confidence inspired those around him.”

There was a certainty in Levo’s expression. “That right there? That’s who you are.”