A young man in a brown coat, his skin unnaturally pale, laughed bitterly. Crimson blood soaked his clothes – a silver sword protruded from his chest. Betrayal. That was the only thought piercing the fog of shock. He was a fool.
'I should have known… I should have known. How stupid was I?' The thought echoed, hollow and final. 'Well… look on the bright side. Now I can finally rest.'
Before him stood a young woman in a white dress. She gripped the sword's hilt with one hand, her gaze fixed on him, devoid of pity.
"Ariz," she stated calmly, her voice icy. "I'm surprised even you were such a fool. I always assumed you doubted me constantly. But the truth? You were simply too trusting. Too blind. Too stupid to see it coming." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "And now? I take your place."
Agony coursed through Ariz. Weakness consumed him. A profound despair, a crushing sense of wrongness, settled deeper than the blade. His vision swam; the world began to dissolve. Frantically, he tried to focus his blurring sight: the tall, indifferent pine trees encircling them… the vibrant green plain beneath his failing body… and the figure of the Order member – his friend – who had just driven the steel home.
The woman yanked the sword free. Ariz gasped, then slammed hard onto the unforgiving ground. His eyes fluttered shut. Pain corrupted him. His blood felt like ice, his bones shattered, and his body ripped itself apart.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
(The silver sword clattered carelessly beside him.)