Chapter 10
Last Confession
As the Deliverance camped for the night mere miles from the sluice gate, Fernand found himself with nothing to do except not being awake. He was understandably alienated from anyone, and no one would accept him. So he ate his meals alone, did his work alone, and was from the most part ignored.
And it aggravated him to no end.
At this point, he wanted to be hated, screamed at, perhaps even be victim to an attempted murder or two. Anything to get rid of the sense that he was alien, that he wasn't there, like a lingering spirit with no form or power.
And so he walked around camp aimlessly, with passing soldiers giving him empty stares. He wanted to shout to high heaven and thrash one of them to the ground, but knew it would not do any good. He would not squander the chance he was given.
"Chance? Ha! Pity more like. They simply see you as a pathetic wretch who can do no harm, so they keep you for their self gratification." A voice in the back of his mind blurted out, whose tone was a mix of his and Berkut's.
He wandered until he reached the edge of the encampment, and walked beyond the boundaries. He doubted that anyone would stop him. At the forest he could hear the chirps of crickets, the falling of leaves. Some people found it relaxing and refreshing, he found it just another annoyance.
His ear picked up a noise, and he wandered towards it. The noise got louder and louder until he recognized it as an arrow hitting wood. Perplexed, he wondered what idiot would practice archery here; until he saw that it was Tobin, calmly unloading another arrow into the arrow he just struck, splitting it.
Tobin was ready to notch another arrow until his eye caught Fernand, and the two turned to face each other for a moment. Saying nothing, he simply notched another arrow and fired, pretending he wasn't there like the rest of them. And the silence that he felt all throughout the day persisted.
"Your archery skills are impressive." Fernand admitted nervously, trying to engage in conversation.
Nothing.
"I assume Sir Mycen trained you to be so proficient?" He asked, trying again.
No response. Fernand's frustration grew.
"Bah, I guess I should have expected silence." He said as he started turning back, fists clenched.
"Why?"
A single word stopped him in his tracks. He turned around to see Tobin staring at him. There was no hatred in his eyes, just a cool judging look that let out no emotion. As they continued to stare at each other, Fernand finally cracked. "Why did I betray Berkut for the Deliverance?"
"Yeah." Tobin said as he notched another arrow, breaking away from his gaze. "As much as I hate to admit it, you rescuing Mathilda made the battle a whole lot easier. Hell it might have been the different between us winning and getting slaughtered. But I still don't understand why you would give away your high horse to help us after all you've done."
"I simply value the lives of my friends more than my cause." Fernand said softly but firmly.
"So you still hate all of us village folk? Even those that got nothing to do with what happened to your family?" Tobin replied accusingly.
"And what would you do if someone butchered your family?" He said, his voice growing. "What would you have done if everything you love was forcefully taken from you?"
"Oh I'd be mad." Tobin replied coolly as he landed another arrow. It was a few centimeters off, and he cursed. "But I'd just blame the ones that did it. Blaming an entire group is just stupid."
Feeling like a child being chided by an adult, Fernand simply growled and bit back his tongue. He stood there, angry as Tobin flew arrow after arrow, before finally responding.
"Hey, if it was someone noble that killed your family, would you still want revenge?" Tobin asked after he shot his last arrow and inspected his work. Not one arrow missed a branch, thought a few fall short of the mark, much to his dismay.
"Of course."
"But would you blame it on all the nobility?" He said, as if shooting an arrow directly at Fernand. "Would you want revenge on all of them? On Sir Clive, Lady Mathilda? On yourself?"
At those words, Fernand could say nothing, and he despised it. He was being cornered verbally. Deciding that he has had enough conversation for one day, he turned away and left the boy to his own devices.
Tobin simply looked on as Fernand walked back to camp, and couldn't help but feel that he had shamed him. Not that he felt bad about it, but he also didn't mean to do so.
Deciding that it didn't matter, he picked up his arrows and climbed down the large tree, feeling a sense of nostalgia as he grabbed a makeshift handhold in the wood, his eyes always fixed towards the ground below.
He quickly strolled back into camp, passing a few soldiers who gave him respectable nods and bows. It felt uncomfortable to him, as it made him feel older than he actually is. But he wasn't going to let personal discomfort get in the way of what was happening, something that he reflected on recently:
He was becoming a leader.
True, the ultimate head of the commander will always be Alm, but the Ram Villagers, him included, were also taking up roles of leadership, if not officially. Men were looking up to them, and when they ordered, people obeyed. Slowly but surely they were becoming the new figureheads of the Deliverance, though whether all have accepted or realized it he couldn't say.
All in all, he wasn't sure what to make of the revelation. He never joined the army expecting to be thrust into a position of power. He always assumed, start to finish, that he would be led by others. But now here he was.
His thoughts persisted on his walk. He wasn't going anywhere in particular, he simply felt like walking. As he crossed the corner, he felt something bump into him, letting out a small yelp. The scream caught him off guard and he fell to the ground, bottom first. He realized that people were staring at him, and he cursed under his breath.
"Great, just great." He thought, and looked up at who he bumped into. His eyes widened as he saw who it was. Faye seemed to also realize it, as her eyes were just as wide as him.
"Oh Mila, I'm so sorry." They both said at once, their face flushing. Faye extended a hand and Tobin grabbed it, and felt his face flush even more. Her hands were so soft.
"I was just taking a walk." Faye said. "I guess I was just caught off guard. Sorry for screaming."
"Apology accepted." Tobin said, brushing off the last of the dirt from his clothing. "I was taking a walk too. Want some company?"
Faye simply smile and nodded, and Tobin was thankful that she was blushing as well, lest he be embarrassed. They walked around the camp, the moonlight shining down on them as they conversed on insignificant things.
As night continued and the paths started to empty itself, they finally decided to sit on a patch of grass, gazing at the stars like they did in their childhood.
"So, big battle tomorrow, huh?" Tobin said, and Faye nodded absentmindedly. She didn't want to think about battles or fighting, not on a night like this.
"Tobin, what will you do after this is all over?" She asked, her gaze still on the sky. "Say we win the next day, what then?"
"Hmm?" Tobin said, and thought for a second. "I'd go back and see my family, obviously. Probably give them all the gold I earned as a soldier, and hopefully not have to worry about my brother starving for a while."
Faye nodded. "Yeah, I thought as much. You'll go back to Ram, Gray will go back, Kliff…probably will go back…but Alm isn't coming back, is he?"
The last statement hit him, and he looked at her. Though her face remained neutral, there was a sorrow in her eyes that he knew, and he wanted to comfort her, to hug her. But he said nothing, knowing that nothing he said could help her.
"He's probably going back to Zofia castle and help people there." Faye continued when she realized that Tobin isn't going to say anything. "Maybe he'll stay there. It's where he's needed, after all the want a leader like him."
"You've thought about this, haven't you?" Tobin said, finding the strength to speak. "You could always…go with him."
She shook her head, eyes closed. "Nah, I don't think I'll be of much help there. Besides, I have family back at Ram too, you know? It's funny, I've known for a while that Alm only has eyes for Celica, but even so, I still…"
She broke off, staying silent. Tobin knew what it's like, just a little. As a child, he was attracted to Faye, even knowing her romantic interests were solely onto Alm. As childhood turned into adolescence, the attraction has cooled off for the most part, but he would still fluster slightly whenever the two were alone.
"Hey, even if that's the case, I'm sure he still cares for you." Tobin said with a faux heroic accent. "And…you know…there are some people who care about you as well."
"Like you?" Faye turned his head towards him, a coy little smile on her lips even as traces of tears formed in her eyes.
"Wha?" Tobin said, his eyes wide and his jaw open. "I…I don't…I mean."
"Come on, I'm not dense." Faye said, giggling a little, but immediately frowned and looked at the grass, ashamed. "I know how you look at me sometimes. And I'm flattered, I really am. I just don't…feel the same way, you know? I'm sorry."
Tobin sighed. "I know, I've known for quite awhile, so I've never said anything. But it's alright…these feelings go away."
"I hope so." Faye said as the two looked at the ground, too embarrassed at the revelations presented to them. "But I'm still having these feelings for Alm, after all this time. It's been 10 years, Tobin, all the while knowing I can't have him, I still want him. If they haven't gone away now…then when will they?"
"They will, eventually." Tobin said, clasping a supportive hand on her shoulder. "I mean, I've gotten over you. I'm sure you'll get over Alm as well."
"Thanks…" Faye said as tears finally rolled down her face, but her smile remained. To Tobin, her smile under the moonlight was one of the most beautiful sights. "So, still friends?"
"Still friends." Tobin responded, and the two turned to talk about less important things, as the aching in their hearts slowly healed.
In the sluice hallway, the High Cantor Tatarrah was busy testing the control of his new toy. With a twisted grin, he said. "Now Delthea, destroy that prisoner."
The aforementioned prisoner, bound and gagged, let out a muffled cry of horror as the girl in front of her uttered a simple word, and he burst into flame. In a few seconds, only a charred corpse remained, and the girl did not respond or react, simply…staring.
"Good, good. Not a hint of mercy in you, not a hint of remorse. Excellent, my dear pet." Tatarrah said in a smooth voice. "You may leave."
"Yes, Master Tatarrah." Delthea said in a monotone voice, and soon walked away to sleep on the floor somewhere. She was a tool, she needed no comforts.
"Tatarrah." A voice ringed in the hallway, though it was a faded and distorted voice, seemingly with no source. Pulling out his crystal ball, the cantor saw a dark mist pooling in the centre of it, coalescing until it made a familiar face. That oh his master, High Cantor Jedah.
"Master Jedah." Tatarrah said with a bow. "How may I serve Duma's will?"
"The boy who leads the resistance against us is a problem." Jedah said, and even from here, his voice radiated terrible power. "You must kill him here, at the sluice gate, and break their feeble Deliverance."
Tatarrah made a swiping motion with his hand. "It will be done, my lord. Already my forces have dug in to the gate itself, ready to blast their armies down. And even if they were to reach me, I have a hidden trick that will ensure the demise of their precious Alm."
"Good, that is all." And the mist faded, the ball being merely crystal once more. Tatarrah made a soft cackling sound, one that would surely frighten any who heard it. And at that he walked down the hall, looking for a certain tool.
A tool to shatter the Deliverance for good.
"There's still no sign of my sister." Luthier grumbled, anxious. "She has to be there, she has to."
"If she is there, then she's probably held up within the gate itself." Clive mentioned. "Regardless, we'll have to focus on the battle at hand."
The mage nodded, though his eyes still looked towards the other side of the river, anticipation swelling in his eyes. Clive turned back towards the rest of the council.
"Their defense is impressive." Clive continued. "No Terrors as far as our scouts can see, but a whole host of Cantors dug in towards the battlements outside the gate. They count at least a dozen, but there may even be more than that."
"That's going to be a problem." Alm said. "If we just charge in, then the cantors will destroy us. There's no secret entrances, is there?"
"No, there was no need for the gate to have one." Mathilda added. "What do we do then?"
And so began a heated debate on how to precede, how to minimize casualties and to defeat them efficiently. Some suggested a frenzied march; others suggested using the fliers to lure out the Cantors, and others simply shook their heads, not offering any suggestions.
At the very back end of the tent, Fernand looked on and couldn't help but be reminded of his constant squabbles with Clive. Nothing would be accomplished, and both of them would leave frustrated…
"Enough." Alm said. "We don't have time to argue this out. As we talk, their defense keeps strengthening and Luthier's sister is still in danger."
The group immediately silences, and Fernand looked on with a mix of shock and grudging respect. His voice was calm but firm, and was a kind that people listened to. He could see why Clive wanted him to be leader, if only slightly. Still, he kept silence.
"Fernand." Alm turned towards him, and he was off guard from his sudden recognition of him. "What do you propose?"
"I'd send the fliers as a distraction." Fernand after the shock past, trying to think with a level head. "The charge in with cavalry and take out the cantors before they can do any more damage."
"But they have archers." Clive said, insistent. "We'd lose them before we can even breach their armor lines. And the whole plan would crumble."
"We're looking at this the wrong way." Alm said. "The cantors are our obvious problem, so we need to remove them from the field first." He pointed at several points on the map where they have been sighted.
"Right now the only way to reach them is through our fliers." Alm continued. "That means they need to be the ones to take them out, meaning we can't squander them on something as simple as a distraction."
He turned to Clair and Faye. "How fast do you think you can take out those Cantors, assuming we bought you the time?"
The two thought long and hard before coming up with a response. "Fairly fast, if you can get those archers to fire at something else, otherwise we won't even be able to reach them, Alm."
"Right, here's the plan." Alm finished, gathering the attention of everyone in the room. "We march our troops towards the bridge and draw their fire, and then we fall back and lure their troops inward. Once that's done, we capitalize by charging back. They won't expect it, which gives us enough opportunity for the fliers to dive for the Cantors."
"That's a awfully dangerous risk." Mathilda said, though her tone indicated she wasn't opposed to the idea. "If the enemy isn't caught off guard, we'd lose both our flying capabilities AND a good portion of our forces."
"Yes, but it's the only way forward without simply throwing bodies at them. We win this cleanly or not at all." Alm countered, to the nodding of everyone else save Fernand. "So, are we agreed?"
The rest of the meeting was spent on details such as timing, positions and orders. Fernand stayed silent all the while, but couldn't help but notice that the meeting was far more unified than anything he'd been a part of previously, and struggled to think how a simple boy managed to convey such a sense of unity.
Once all the details were discussed, they all dispersed to relay the plan to the others, leaving Fernand, Clive and Alm in the room. Fernand looked at Alm and said. "Where will I be during the battle?"
The two turned to him and Alm stepped forward. There were no animosity in his eyes, no suspicion, and Fernand found himself unnerved…almost ashamed.
"You'll be in my unit." Alm said. "We'll be fighting on the front lines at the bridge to draw out the enemy."
"You want me…in your unit?" Fernand said. "A traitor who betrayed the Deliverance, in a position where I can easily stab you, are all peasants this forgiving? Why do you care so much for me?"
"Because it's much easier to trust someone than to hate them." Alm said. "I want to trust you, Fernand, like I do everyone here. Are you willing to trust in me?"
At that reply Fernand simply turned his head and out the tent. "You're a fool."
"Did I say something wrong?" Alm turned towards Clive, who shook his head.
"No he simply needs time." Clive said. "He's trying to move on, but it's best not to push him. I'll keep an eye on him, just in case."
"Alright then." Alm said, and left the tent to assemble his equipment, leaving a smiling but doubtful Clive. He still hasn't questioned Alm about his heritage, and decided that he would postpone that discussion until after this battle is won.
Tobin was walking down a busy road, bow and quiver strapped. He walked down this road yesterday, and noticed that the serene environment has been utterly destroyed by the preparation of bloody battle.
He noticed men sharpened their swords and spears, or fletching their arrows. Newly recovered wounded were checking with Silque to make sure they were fit for combat, with some even pleading after she had rebuked them. Squires were rushing about with saddles and a bridle, preparing their master's mounts for war. There are those few who simply stared, wondering if this is the battle where their lives would end.
Tobin wondered why he never felt that. He would never describe himself as fearless or foolhardy, yet he never buckled under the fear of death. It was simply another question into a pile of them; most he figured would go unanswered.
As he turned towards the stables, he spotted Faye grooming her pegasus in preparation of flight. She noticed his approached and waved a friendly hand. The two remembered the previous night spent together, but there were no awkwardness among them.
"Hey…" Faye said as he brushed a hand on her mount's silver mane, the beasts neighing in appreciation. "What are you doing here?"
"Just wanted to see you off before you go." Tobin said. "Isn't that what friends do?"
Faye simply pointed at the other side of the clearing, where he saw that Gray and Clair were conversing as well. The two wore comfortable smiles around each other, even as Clair said something to make his friend wince.
"As much as you fight a lot, you two are awfully similar in some ways." Faye said with a sigh. "I'll be fine, trust me."
"I hope so." Tobin said. "Hey, let's celebrate after this, alright?"
Faye responded with a smile and a nod, and the two parted. Tobin wished he could talk more with her, but the battle was fast approaching. He figured he could save his words for after it was done.
"Steady now..." Alm said as the men marched closer towards the bridge. "Steady…"
It was a gesture meant to calm the nerves of those marching, though it had limited effect. Some were trembling, more noticeably than others, while others stood steadfast for the chaos about to unfold.
As expected, the opposing end of the bridge being filled with armored knights, with infantry right behind them. Their shields locked and spears drawn in a tight phalanx, the enemy began its slow march to counter the Zofians. However, they were not the threat here.
The Zofians in the front line can already see it as multiple Cantors emerged from their hiding places, dark purple energy already pooling in their hands. They let out a series of soft but audible cackles, and a few more Zofians found themselves unnerved by it. The tension in the air was almost palpable, the strategy that decided life or death so fragile.
They had willing walked into this death trap in order to spring it. There was no turning back now.
Alm continued to march in the front line, his face as steady as stone. They were almost in range of the Cantor's spells now. Another step, then another, then another, a steady beat of feet on stone as the tension grew ever thicker.
At last, they stood at the edge of their side of the bridge, staring down the enemy knights that placed themselves firmly on their side. Alm looked into the eyes of the enemy: cold, merciless, anticipating their next move. He would not falter, he would not budge.
"Deliverance, Charge!" Alm shouted out, and his men complied, charging in disorderly ranks as they met the enemy. The young leader would lead the charge himself; he would face the danger with his men.
No sooner than they had met the enemy was when the Cantors casted their spells, sending sickly bolts of miasma and raw power. The initial wave of spells destroyed many men, either blasting them off the bridge or killing them where they stand. The Cantors soft cackles grew louder at the carnage they caused.
"Damn it." Alm cursed, not for the plan, but for those who needed to die for it to succeed. "Deliverance, retreat!"
At that command the Deliverance immediately turned their backs and ran, a frenzied but organized retreat as the Cantors continued to fire blast after blast of spells. The Rigellian knights, which stood still, now began to give chase to their retreating enemy, like a hunter to its prey.
As they almost reached the shore, Alm raised a hand and the army stopped. A lesser army would have taken a moment to regroup itself, but this was the Deliverance, and they would not fail Zofia. They turned and charged back at the chasing knights, catching them off guard. They were still in a phalanx formation, their shields locked against one another. But a large bolt of wind immediately sent their front line flying, their bodies sinking to the waters below.
Alm turned towards the now-emerging Luthier and gave him a grateful nod, before charging into the fray with his men.
Up above the clouds, Faye and Clair saw the battle below for just a moment before surging towards the other side of the river, above the skies so that no one can see them. Catching sight of their targets, they urged their beasts to dive down.
Like meteors they hurled downwards at breakneck speed, tearing through the skies. As expected, the cantors were lightly guarded by a contingent of troops, and they did not see them. It was too late when the first two cantors noticed them, and far too late to do anything about it.
In an instant the fliers' spears caught them, landing a hole in their sides before immediately flying upwards and out of reach. The two cantors muttered curses and feeble praises to their god before falling. Faye nodded to Clair as they immediately dived for another pass.
The enemy was more prepared this time as archers looked to the skies, their bows aimed and ready. Once they were within sight, they loosed their arrows towards them. A few flew past the two but most missed their mark thanks to their skilled maneuvers. Again they descended and again two more Cantors found themselves dead.
The third pass was even closer, with an arrow grazing Clair's mount on its side and another landing a cut on Faye's cheek. The archers were learning from their maneuvers, but for now another two Cantors fell, near half their numbers gone.
Meanwhile on the battlefield below, the Rigellians on the bridge just got word about the attack on the Cantors, and this time it was their turn to retreat from the bridge. Alm let out a fierce cry and the Deliverance smashed themselves onto their rear as sword met shield and flesh. In the midst of it Luthier and Kliff cast spell after spell, punching holes into their ever worsening flanks.
Broken and demoralized, the organized retreat broke down as individual soldiers ran and broke formation. Those who tried to reorganized were surrounded and cut down by the more disciplined Zofians, who now were giving chase across the bridge.
"Rush through them." Tobin cried out as his arrow hit another straggler. The edge of his sight caught Gray defeating two soldiers singlehandedly, his sword moving as if it were part of him. "Get to the other side as fast as possible and beat their Cantors."
The Deliverance complied as the cavalry finally came, riding through the bridge quickly. The infantry followed behind them, though they were slowed by pockets of still resisting Rigellians. Tobin quickly picked up a mount offered to him and rode it. Racing past the bridge, he saw that the majority of the cavalry managed to avoid the spells and is now riding to weed out the remaining cantors. Without them, the battle was surely won.
And yet still Tobin felt a sense of unease. This battle was by no means easy, but he so felt that it was coming along too smoothly, and that there is something wrong. Something that he failed to understand…
The heat of battle broke him out of that thought as he spotted another fleeing enemy. A quickly fired arrow saw him fall down, and he charged ahead, the thought shoved to the back of his mind.
"How were our losses?" Alm asked as the men began securing the bridge and both its entrances. While they haven't secured the sluice gate building itself, intelligence reported that it was lightly guarded. The enemy threw everything they had to the defense outside.
"Not as much as it could have." Clive said, looking around the battlefield. While most of the bodies were Rigellian, there were Zofian bodies among them. "I shouldn't have doubted your plan. We made it through with minimal casualties."
"No, you were just voicing your concerns." Alm said as he looked to the entrance of the sluice gate. "I'd like to lead a small force inside to secure the building. Can you deal with the rest?"
Clive bowed his head. "Of course." He said, and headed off. Passing him was Luthier who ran up to Alm and waved for his attention.
"Alm." Luthier said bluntly. He was sweating and panting, exhausted after all the fighting, but his voice still radiated energy…and urgency. "My sister isn't among the enemy; my belief is that she's held within the sluice gate itself."
"I was just about to call for you. I want you to join me as we enter this building and drive out the rest of the enemy." Alm responded. "We'll save her, we promise."
Luthier could only nod in gratitude as the team was gathered, prepared to end this battle at last.
The group moved through the entrance at last, killing the last of the guards than challenged them. Despite that, the hallways were eerily empty as they walked through them towards the main hall of the sluice gate.
The sense of unease Tobin felt was now growing. There was a trap here of some sort, he knew it, and he was certain the others knew of it as well. The question was what the trap could be.
Another hallway passed, devoid of enemies, and the feeling continued to persist among the group. They expected at least some light resistance, but besides the enemies at the entrance, there was almost nothing. No ambushes, no Cantors, no Terrors…simply nothing.
"What's going on here?" Gray said. "They sure left this place in a hurry."
"Stay prepared." Alm said, drawing his sword as they reached the door main hallway. "I think there's someone in this room."
Opening it, Alm's suspicions were proven correct as a single man was at the centre of the room, kneeling as if he was in a cathedral. He wore Cantor's robes, but with gold trimmings and a special signet on the back, indicating his higher rank.
The man did not react to the new intruders, as if they didn't exist, he simply knelt there, uttering alien words even as the group surrounded him, weapons drawn and ready.
"Identify yourself." Alm said. "I am Alm, leader of the Deliverance, and I demand to know who you are, Cantor."
The Cantor stopped his chant and looked at him, as if it was finally aware of where he is. Then he flashed a sinister, inhumanly wide smile. "Welcome, Deliverance. My name is Tatarrah, it is a pleasure that we can finally meet."
Tobin drew his bow and looked around the room. It was hard to see in the dimly lit room, but his eyes were keen and sharp. Looking at his surroundings, he could feel something was off, but once again confounded as to what.
And then, a light in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
"It is…such a shame, for one such as you to die so young." Tatarrah laughed and stood upright. "But Lord Duma has commanded it, and so it shall be done. Now, my puppet!"
Tobin saw before anyone else a girl peeking out of the corner of a shadow. She was a small girl, with brown hair and eyes, looking…almost empty. Fire was curling up in her hands, and before anyone could react, the fire shot out from it.
Towards Alm, towards their leader.
It was as if time froze. Tobin knew he couldn't stop what was about to happen, unless…
Clenching his teeth, Tobin launched himself towards Alm and braced himself. Like many things before the war, he never thought himself as selfless, but now he was ready to sacrifice himself for his friend. "Guess I'm better than I think I am." Tobin thought.
Tobin was shot with the blast of fire, sending him an Alm back. Gray let out a loud shriek as Tatarrah cursed, his mission failed. His next thought was cut off as his chest was pierced by Faye, shock and tears in her eyes.
Gray charged at the girl, anger taking over his thoughts. Drawing his sword, he was about to bring it down on her head until a gust of wind knocked him off his feet.
"Gray, no!" Luthier called as he rushed towards the girl, who now looked confused and scared at her surroundings.
The girl was now crying and on her news, finally aware of what's happening, though she still felt confused. "I…wha?...What did I?"
Luthier immediate went and hugged her, wrapping his arms around her as any good brother should. "There, there." He said in a rare, gentle voice. "It's alright, Delthea. Everything is going to be alright."
Gray stood up and looked at the girl, anger still in his eyes. That anger was soon replaced by concerned as he ran back towards his friend. Alm was getting up, but Tobin remained on the floor. Rushing towards his friend, he gasped as he saw him.
His chest was severely burned through his clothing, and his face was giving out a gasp of pain. His eyes were half open, and Gray wasn't sure if he was conscious or not. He quickly knelt down and shouted out. "Tobin…Tobin?"
Tobin didn't respond, and that broke him. He let out a cry of anguish even as Alm quickly called for Silque, tears flowing freely down his eyes. He knew that this would happen, that war would take its toll on all of them, but experiencing it firsthand was infinitely worse than knowing it.
"Damn it…Tobin…don't you leave us like this. Don't you dare." He cried out, but was met with silence once more.
And that's it for this chapter, see y'all next time. -ArcanaHermit