Tyron's breath caught the moment the arrows struck Lenko. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to still. He thought that was it, that everything was over. His heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach as the image burned into his mind. Lenko jerking back, the sudden burst of red, the sound of his body hitting the ground.
He couldn't even breathe.
But before despair could root itself fully, his world jolted again. A force shoved him sideways as her highness suddenly gasped, a strangled sound of shock, pain, and grief all at once. He turned to her, wide-eyed, just as the runes on the fabric began to flicker and dim, their steady light faltering.
The runes holding the archer down was unraveling.
"Olga… this can't be…" Her Highness's voice cracked, trembling at the edges. Tyron had never heard her like that before. It was something raw, breaking. Tears trembled unshed in her eyes, but her focus wavered, her hand trembling above the half-faded runes.
