I walked into the passage and then I felt the ground under me twist and shift until I became dizzy.

Falling down to the floor, I could not stand up for some time and when I attempted to - a wave of weakness rolled over me.

Tasting blood on my tongue and hearing the dripping of it flowing out from my body that had been shattered by the tiger, the soldiers, and Deianira - I swallowed the thick choking feeling in my throat and crawled, ears now ringing heavily towards what I presumed to be the right direction.

I crawled, and I crawled, pain filling me, but hope and determination fueling me on.

Then I heard a footstep, and I looked up...to see a face that was familiar. A face that had haunted me in my nightmares.

Choking, I gazed at the figure, who looked at me with a grim smile on his face.

“The situation has reversed, has it not?” The figure asked casually.

I couldn’t muster the strength to say any words, so I just mutely stared at the figure.

A dagger appeared in the figure’s hands, which he played with as he smiled ironically at me and said, “Fate is poetic. You stood, watching me die. Now I stand, watching you die.”

Die. Death.

The word scared me.

I had so much to live for.

I had my parents.

I had my brother.

I had my teacher.

I had Ares, Frizelda, Thomas, and Edwin.

I had the golden blades mercenary group members led by Sir Galen.

And,

I had Sia.

I didn’t want to die.

I wanted to return to them.

I will return to them!

Clawing at the ground, I spat out the words between mouthfuls of blood, “I.. I-will-live... I will-not-die-here!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. There’s plenty of monsters here that would find your life to be a trifling annoyance before they devour you.”

“So tell me, Should I not help you on your way,” the figure said as it loomed forward and came into the light, allowing me to see it clearly though I already knew what it was, nay, what he was.

He was the one who had gazed at me with a frightened look that turned to despair and then acceptance, as he knew what his fate was to be.

He was the soldier who Chase executed after the battle where Teacher transformed into the half-lion beast.

I wasn’t the one who killed him, but it was as though I had done it myself - since I allowed it to happen.

Chase had justified it by saying that help was far away for the enemy soldier and that the crows and vultures would have tortured him before his death.

A death that was not honorable in the slightest.

So he had slit the soldier’s throat and given him a death that was honorable.

Now the situation has been truly reversed.

He stood, playing with the dagger in front of me.

I lay; crawling as I desperately tried to live.

The soldier crouched beside me and held the dagger to my throat, the blade’s cold edge making me stiffen up.

Afraid to even breathe, I stared as he brought his face close to mine and looked me in the eye.

Unwillingly, I shut my eyes, and the blade moved.

Drops of liquid fell.

But they fell on my body.

In shock, I opened my eyes to see the soldier standing with the dagger clutched tight and his eyes filled with tears, tears that dropped upon me.

Stunned, I didn’t know what was happening and why the soldier was crying.

More importantly, I didn’t know why I lived.

The soldier cried for a long, long time.

Time in which I realized my wounds were slowly closing, though I was still in danger of dying any moment.

Then the soldier wiped his eyes and stared at me.

I looked questioningly back at him.

Peacefully now, he said, “I heard you ask that man why he did what he did. I heard the anger, the sadness, the pain, and the misery in your voice.”

“I would have told you that what he had done was the right choice. I did not want to die tortured by beasts. I wanted an honorable death, and what your ally did was to give me exactly that. An honorable death.”

With a faraway look, he said, “I might have lived... but I would have been a cripple. My leg wound had severed my muscles completely. I would not have been able to walk even if I had survived.”

With a harsh voice now, he continued, “I would have been a burden on my family. A reminder of what could have been and what was lost. The shame would have killed me slowly for the rest of my life.”

Then softly he said, “I wanted to live. I wanted to live desperately. But help was far for me... for you, it’s nearby.”

“So you shall live, boy,” he said as he smiled, his expression torn. In a softer voice, he murmured, “But at what cost, I do not know.”

Shaking his head, He pulled me to my feet and as I tottered shakily; he put a hand around me in support, not caring about the blood that stained him.

With a brilliant smile now, he whispered, “Go... I forgive you, for there is nothing to forgive. You were not to blame and if my situation was repeated, I would still wish for the same thing to happen again.”

Saying so, He placed his hand on the wall in front which slid apart, and then he carried me through till a circle on the ground appeared.

Placing me carefully inside the circle, he turned and smiled one last time at me before he murmured something that I could not hear properly and then scattered into mist.

I caught a few words, though, of what he said.

They were “I’m coming to you, my love.”

Then the circle flared in bright white light, and I vanished from the surroundings.