Carl's gauntlets tore through the air as he retrieved his arm from Darrell's chest. Blood pooling out in its wake, tracing the path of the Silver gauntlets as the Elvin prince fell to his knees.
His expression was calm now, devoid of the pain and betrayal that wrapped tightly around his head a moment ago.
Now, it was simply acceptance.
Acceptance for what was and what is.
Mana eased it's flow within his body, and the Dharma dispersed with the wind.
His gaze, hazy and dull, glanced over the Robed figures once more. Shoulders slumped, blood pooling over his pierced armor, damage from blinded trust. Or perhaps a false sense of mutual understanding.
He paid the price in blood, and a vision that dulled with his brain.
His heart thumped once more. Slow. Hesitant. Each beat exerted more force than the last. Holes punctured within oozing liquid crimson. Casting a blue-black coloration over his chest.
