"What are you…?" Nyx gasped, barely clinging to a twisted metal rod jutting from the bridge. He swung wildly over the void below, the rod groaning as he scrambled to climb back up.
…
The headmaster ran with Luna cradled in his arms, boots pounding down the hall as knights parted swiftly to make way. His hand rose, fingers brushing against Luna's pale cheek. His expression darkened—brows furrowed, the corners of his mouth pulled tight with sorrow.
He caressed her gently, never breaking stride, even as the sound of soldiers faded behind him. At the stairwell, he looked up.
"Don't worry, little one," he whispered. "I'll get you to safety."
And with that, he charged up the stairs, pushing his old body to its limits.
…
The soldiers held their formation, shoulder to shoulder, shields spanning wall to wall in the narrow tunnel. They stood unflinching as Eyril advanced, his presence heavy and silent.
With a single diagonal slash , steel flashing from shoulder to hip , Eyril struck, and the air filled with a strangled cry of fear.
Two knights locked eyes in desperation before lunging together, swords swinging from opposite sides with vicious speed.
Their swords hit their mark , but there was no resistance. Steel withered into nothing, dissolving like ash in the wind. Eyril didn't flinch. He moved in one fluid sweep, his blade cutting both men in half. Their bodies collapsed to the sides with a wet thud.
In the tunnel, the remaining knights stood frozen. They were trembling, soaked in sweat, yet not one dared move an inch.
To flee would mean breaking their oath. What were they if they ran now?
One knight clutched the small pendant hanging from his helmet, a crude carving of himself and his daughter. His lips moved in a trembling whisper:
"Selitharia… Veiled Moon… keep me safe in yer dark, so I can get back to my little girl's arms."
His hands shook as he looked up, desperate hope glinting in his eyes.
But through the shadows, Eyril kept coming , his boots leaving bloody prints in his wake.
The knight knew.
But still, he prayed.
…
Nyx's hands shook as he reached for the bridge. Grabbing hold, he pulled himself up, anchoring with his forearm and clawing at the ground with the other. In one sweeping motion, he hauled himself safely onto the bridge.
On his knees, he gasped for air, chest heaving from the effort of climbing the ridiculously long metal rod , over a hundred meters of sheer climbing.
Pushing himself upright, his gaze drifted toward the tunnel. Horror and grief gripped him as his eyes met the sight within. Where soldiers once stood, now only a heap of bodies remained. They had been decimated.
Fate had caught up to them.
Slowly, Nyx stepped forward, his boots heavy against the cold steel. He crouched near one knight who stood out from the rest , his body still intact. Nyx stared down at him, his expression drowning in agony.
He froze. Breath sharp and uneven. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his face twitching as though he were fighting to hold something back. No tears came, only a hollow, distant stare. His hands trembled at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling as silent torment etched itself deep into his features.
Nyx crouched and reached for the knight's hand, Nyx felt something clenched tightly within it. Gently prying the fingers open, he found a pendant , held dearly to the knight's chest.
He flipped it open. Inside was a crude, heartfelt drawing of the knight and a young girl. Nyx stared at it for a long moment, then closed it with a soft click.
"...I'm sorry, Henry," he murmured. "I'll make sure to deliver it to her."
With regret shadowing his face, Nyx slowly stood, gripping Henry's sword. Without another word, he turned and ran into the tunnel after his quarry.