The Captain raised his sword high, about to strike Platius's head — when an arrow whizzed toward him.
He twisted just in time, letting the arrow miss the mark.
The Captain's eyes snapped toward the source.
There, standing firm, was a man with long red hair and a strong, imposing build.
The red-haired man shouted, "I am Mikiya — stay away from him, Captain, or I will kill you and your friends!"
Platius sneered. "You're late."
Mikiya stepped forward like a blade.
"Shut up — or I'll kill you too, along with them."
Platius laughed, half amused.
"Are you here to save me or to kill me?"
The Captain kept his sword leveled but said nothing at first.
"Why would I listen to you?" he asked coldly.
In a blur Mikiya drew his bow and loosed two arrows. They flew straight for Jester and Mosin.
The Captain's head snapped back toward them — two arrows buried into Jester's chest.
Blood welled at his mouth; he spat it out and, with a ragged voice, forced the words out.
"I — won't — let you kill him."
"Jester!" the Captain shouted as he rushed forward.
Mikiya's voice was flat and deadly.
"Now you know I'm serious." He lowered the bow and offered a bargain.
"Let me take Platius, and I won't hurt any of you. I'll take the soldiers, too."
The Captain hesitated a breath, then barked toward him, "You can take him — but don't even think of trying anything."
Mikiya gave a curt nod.
"You're wise," he said, then seized Platius and barked to his men, "Jobs done — let's move."
The soldiers fell in around him and pulled Platius away through the smoke and chaos.
As they faded into the crowd, the Captain dropped to his knees beside Jester and the fallen Mosin.
He pressed a hand to Jester's wound, eyes fierce.
"Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine — just stay awake."
Jester forced a weak smile, blood sliding down his chin.
"Save Mosin… he's—" His voice broke.
Then his eyelids fluttered and he fainted.
After few hours.
Mosin came to slowly, the room tilting for a heartbeat before the world steadied.
He blinked against the low light and found himself on a narrow bed, coarse blankets pulled up to his chest.
The air smelled faintly of oil and iron.
Near the foot of the bed the Captain stood, arms folded, face as unreadable as stone.
Titus spoke in a low voice by the door, tossing a curt nod over his shoulder.
"I'll be back after I finish this," he said, then left without another word.
Mosin pushed himself up on an elbow.
"Where… am I?" His voice was raw.
The Captain's jaw tightened. "Oh you are awake now."
He stepped forward and sat on a stool beside the bed, the chair creaking under him.
For a long second he said nothing—only watched Mosin with a look that held both anger and something harder to name.
Finally the Captain's voice came, cold and steady.
"Why did you betray Jester and your own kingdom?"
Mosin's face crumpled. Tears stung his eyes, shame and regret folding every line.
"I—" He swallowed.
"I'm an idiot. I believed a stranger's words. I didn't investigate. I let my anger and my need for answers make me blind."
The Captain's eyes narrowed.
"You put people at risk. You lied. You stabbed the only men who gave you shelter in the back."
Mosin bowed his head, shoulders shaking.
"I know. I'll accept any punishment. Kill me if you must. But please—promise me one thing. Promise you and Jester will find who killed my parents and make them pay."
Silence stretched.
Captain said with a serious tone.
"You won't be punished."
Mosin's eyes blinked open fully, trying to process the Captain's words.
"You… you mean I won't be punished?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
The Captain stood near the table, arms crossed, his face half in shadow.
"No," he said flatly.
Mosin frowned, confused.
"But… why? I betrayed the kingdom. I betrayed you all."
The Captain's eyes shifted toward him, his tone low.
"Because Jester asked me to spare you. It was his request."
Mosin froze, his breath catching. Tears began to form at the edges of his eyes.
"Jester… asked for it?"
The Captain nodded once.
Mosin clenched his fists, trembling.
"But how—how can I ever face him again? After what I've done… how will I even look him in the eyes?"
The Captain's voice was heavy, cold.
"You won't."
Mosin looked up sharply, his confusion turning to dread.
"What… what do you mean I won't?"
The Captain's fist tightened at his side, the words escaping like a restrained growl.
"Because Jester is dead."
The world seemed to stop.
The air, the light, even the faint ticking sound in the corner—all fell silent.
Mosin's lips parted slightly, his voice shaking.
"W-what… what did you say?"
The Captain's gaze hardened.
"Your foolishness cost Jester his life."
Mosin's face went pale. His heart felt like it had stopped beating.
The sound of the Captain's voice echoed inside his skull, breaking everything left of his composure.
The Captain reached into his coat and pulled out a folded paper.
He placed it on the table beside the bed.
"Before he died, he told me to give you this. His final words."
Mosin's hands trembled violently as he reached for it. His fingers brushed the torn edge, still faintly stained red.
His breath came uneven—half sob, half disbelief.
He whispered, "Jester…" and stared at the letter, unable to open it.
The Captain turned away from the bed, his voice calm but heavy with authority.
"I'll be waiting for your reply outside," he said quietly, stopping near the door.
Mosin didn't answer—his eyes were still fixed on the letter, his hands trembling.
The Captain added, his tone firmer, "Think carefully before you decide what you'll do from now on."
He opened the door slowly, the creak echoing through the silent room.
For a brief second, he looked back—his expression unreadable, a mix of anger, pity, and exhaustion.
Then he stepped out, closing the door behind him with a dull thud.
As the Captain stepped out of the room, the door closing softly behind him, he stood still in the silent corridor.
The air was heavy, and the faint flicker of torchlight cast long shadows across the stone walls.
He didn't say a word — but his thoughts echoed quietly within him.
Jester… I could tell from the way you looked at him — how much you cared. Even when he betrayed the kingdom, you couldn't bring yourself to hate him.
The Captain's eyes lowered, his expression unreadable.
You chose mercy… even in death.
His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.
I'll protect your wish. I'll help Mosin fix the mistakes he made… but what comes after — that's his path to walk.
Mosin's trembling fingers unfolded the letter slowly, the edges damp from his unsteady grip.
His vision blurred as he began to read, each word feeling less like ink on paper and more like Jester's voice echoing softly inside his head.
Mosin,
I know you made a mistake. I'm sorry I couldn't see how much pain you were in.
I don't think I have much time left… but listen to me.
It's not your fault. The ones who used you — they're the ones to blame.
So don't throw your life away in guilt. Use it. Use it to protect those who still can be saved.
I'm leaving the rest… to you.
As Mosin's eyes reached the end of the letter, he noticed a small, drawn smiley face — the same clumsy, exaggerated grin Jester always made whenever he messed up during training.
For a moment, Mosin could almost see him again — that familiar warm smile, the teasing voice saying, "You'll get it next time."
But now, there was only silence.
Mosin's grip on the letter tightened as tears spilled freely down his face.
His shoulders shook, and for the first time since the battle, he let out a broken sob — one filled with guilt, sorrow, and the echo of something he can't express that he could never get back.
After a few silent hours, Mosin finally stepped out of his room. His eyes were red, his face pale — but there was a new stillness in him, a quiet resolve that hadn't been there before.
The Captain was standing near the door, arms crossed, waiting.
Without turning, he asked calmly, "Have you decided what to do?"
Mosin met his gaze, his voice firm despite the weariness in it.
"Yes," he said. "I'll continue my work as a spy… and I'll find out who killed my parents."
The Captain gave a short nod, studying him for a moment.
"That's good enough," he said finally, his tone steady but distant.
Then he turned and began walking down the dim hallway, his footsteps echoing softly until they faded into silence.