"Loss is a sorrowful thing" – a curt philosopher

"FATHER," Alex says while rushing over to Walter's side, over the broken glass.

The arrow, protruding from the duke's chest, quivers with every breath he takes. Blood seeps into his elegant blue shirt staining it a deep shade of purple.

"Son," Walter says difficultly, "there's no time…"

Alex continues to stay by his father's side, and remembers what his tutor had taught him about anatomy, 'Where it is, is right above his heart and left lung, since he's talking right now he should be okay in regards to the lung, but if it hit his heart…' Alex starts to apply pressure.

Blood starts to seep out rhythmically, Alex can feel the lifeblood draining from his father.

'It must have hit his heart or an artery… I don't think I can fix this. DAMMIT, if not for this bloody constitution, I might be able to do something with magic.'

'well, if I can't, then maybe someone with it can.'

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Alex then proceeds, hope returning to his tearful eyes, to take charge, "Aldi, right?"

The servant nods.

"Go find a healer immediately, I don't care if you have to brave the army, but he cannot be moved. Now go"

'At least those lessons with Reynold are making themselves useful…' Alex, tears springing from his eyes, looks through them at his father, and now bloodstained hands, "But I would prefer if I didn't have to use them"

"NO," Walter says, and then coughs blood, "I cannot have you waste time on a dying man, if you don't go now they will find you and kill you, GO!" Walter hacks up even more blood, spreading it to Alex's face, "I'm a dead man Alex…" Walter says, reaching for his son's face, "you need to live."

Walter's hand falls to his body, and Alex can feel his heart get slower and slower before stopping.

The servant returns to find a stunned and despondent Alex standing above his father's corpse.

"Sir, there were no healers… they seem to have vacated the premises…"

Alex looks towards the servant, blank eyes staring at his.

"Along with the army… We need to leave now sir."

Alex continues to stare.

A contemplative look crosses the servant's face, "Sir… do you want your father's death to be in vain?" says Albi in a vain attempt to get his master moving, and it works--to an extent.

'…'

Alex starts moving towards the servant, any life that may have once been in his eyes, gone.

Then the army commander of the duchy once ruled by Alex's father, and now Alex himself in accordance with rightful inheritance, dressed in red and gold, the colors of the western duchy, takes his sword and slaughters Alex and his servant.