Clank. Clank.

Harut marched past a burning building with an entire cadre of knights behind him. Two in the back carried Garrick between them, his body hanging limply as they marched. All along the street lay knights in their dark armor. Shadows in between the flickering firelight hid their wounds, but Harut recognized that many were dead and not just injured. Holes lay open to darkness that seeped with draining blood, and Harut grimaced.

While he had stepped away from his position, these were still his knights. These were men he had trained from squires into knights over the last two decades. Twenty years of blood, sweat and tears had brought them to the heights of power for peasants, and now they lay dead, bereft of their memories.

He dearly wanted to stop for the injured, but the fighting needed to stop first. Sayed had to be somewhere head, and every moment could cost the man his life. While Harut did not know the man well, Sayed had fought with him, and been ready to risk his life for Artur. Honor demanded that Harut save him.

"The hard part is finding him." Harut frowned as he searched the streets.

He was sure that the man could not have run that far. With the number of knights chasing him, he should have been easily surrounded. His skills with the blade might have saved his life, but no one could run from so many knights. Yet, the swordsman was nowhere to be seen.

And all that was left was a trail of downed knights that led down the street.

"Come, we must hurry." Harut started into a jog, following the knights around a corner and away from the fire.

It made no sense. No single man, bereft of runic armor and only using his skill with the blade, should have been able to take down so many knights. Even Harut, with all his skill, needed Garrick to power off his armor to stand a chance. The knights who went after Sayed had no cause for mercy. They had no need of honor. They would have come after the swordsman with all their force.

Yet, they lay strewn around the street, far too many downed. His eyes widened as he started keeping count. One, two, ten. That kind of strength, that kind of skill was impossible to imagine. Just how strong was Sayed? Was it his curse that let him carve through the knights? No, that made little sense. A curse wouldn't be enough.

Another corner, more knights lay on the ground. Harut bit his lip and forced down the bile that threatened to rise up his throat. It was like following the trail of a rampaging beast.

Then he saw the figures in the distance, down a dark alley and deep in the shadows. Only the bright orange light of a single blade and the dark orange of a flaming sword gave any position to the two fighters. Out of them all, Sayed still stood, and one knight remained.

Except, the form before him was nothing like the swordsman. He had the same body, but his stance, it was completely different. Steam hissed off the man's body as he towered over the knight. The black armor looked like nothing beside Sayed. Tears ripped down the armor, exposing blood and flesh inside. His blade glowed an orange-white as he raised it up high.

Hiss.

The air itself felt like stepping into a desert. Harut's skin cracked underneath that heat, and he tensed as every part of his skin tightened against him at the end of the alley. Sayed opened his mouth, and a hiss of steam erupted out from it, even as the knight held his flaming blade aloft and awaited Sayed's strike.

"A desert demon," Harut whispered.

He had travelled far and wide in his youth, seen many islands and people, both across the Core and the Fringes. Many of the more desert islands he had visited had beliefs of monstrous creatures out in the desert. Some called them simply monsters, some djinn, others demons. In Harut's eyes, that was what Sayed had become. His muscles were taut and strong. His eyes were covered in shadow, and the hissing steam that rose off of him gave him an otherworldly presence.

"Demon's Divide!"

Sching. Clatter.

A downward slash cut through the knight's blade, and this fire that ran along its edge fluttered and died as it split in two. The end clattered to the floor, and the knight fell back, clutching at his chest as he collapsed. Harut stood frozen despite the heat. What could he do in the face of such a demon? Was Sayed even there anymore, or had he been possessed?

He reached for his blade, but his hand rested on the hilt. His hand shook as he gripped it. Fear ran rampant through his body as the steam spouting demon looked toward him. A rational part of his mind knew that Sayed had to be on his last legs. He could not have kept fighting if he had taken on all the knights. Eventually, even the strongest man would collapse in a battle if he fought long enough.

That part of his mind was far too rational to deal with the monster that stood before him, so he chose the most irrational path instead. He released the hilt, lowering his hand forcefully and stepping forward. With a single look, he set the knights behind him at rest and walked toward Sayed. He raised his hands as he walked and swallowed his fear.

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He buried it deep inside his stomach.

Fighting was not the way. If he did that, he would end the same as the other knights. He could not run away either. There were so many of his knights that needed help. That left him with only one option. He had to gamble that Sayed had not lost his mind. He had to gamble that the swordsman was still somewhere in front of him.

"Sayed," he said, his voice shaking. "Are you alright?"

Sayed turned to him with shadowed eyes. His sword raised, and he took a staggering step forward. Steam hissed as he opened his mouth wide. Harut froze. His instinct bade him to reach for his sword. He did not, could not. He took another step forward.

"Sayed, if you remember me at all, stop."

It felt silly. They hadn't known each other for long. However, Sayed had been a jovial and approachable fellow. Harut wanted to leverage that. It was a chance he was willing to take. That or death, as his fear was wont to remind him.

Shung.

The oddly curved blade vibrated in Sayed's hand as he continued to approach. Harut's mind raced. He needed the right words. Sayed's shadow fell upon him. The swordman's face was completely concealed in a shadow cast from the burning light across his face.

"Please." Harut's hand dipped for his blade. "I don't want to kill you, brother."

Silence.

A pause in Sayed's movement. No sword came for Harut's head. The arm had frozen. Heat radiated from the blade, peeling back the shadows in the alley and the ones that had fallen over Sayed's face. A worn and haggard face emerged from those shadows, drenched in tears. The swordsman wore no smile. It was as if he were a puppet on strings, held taut not by his own body, but by a higher power.

"I hear you, brother." Sayed's shoulders sagged, and the shadows fully retreated. "I think it is finally done."

Thud. Clatter.

He fell forward, his sword hitting the ground beside him as he fell face first onto the stones below. Harut turned to the knights following him immediately. He needed to orient himself to the proper course of action. He was a noble, and nobles did what was right.

"Go through each of the men," he said. "Find the ones who are alive and get them out of their armor. If you can, staunch the blood in any wound until we can find a healer."

"Sir." The knights saluted as one, however, one remained behind as the rest started off.

"What about the outlaw, sir?" he asked.

"I'll handle him." Harut waved the knight away. "Go find a healer."

It pained Harut to not go after his fallen knights, but he didn't trust the knights to not hurt Sayed when he wasn't there. Once he was sure that the knights were all off, he knelt next to Sayed and flipped the man over after a few tries. Sweat covered the swordman's body, and flipping him was no easy task. Harut finally got him over, and the first thing he noticed was the hundreds of cuts across his chest.

"You were wearing armor when we left company." Harut frowned.

The cuts looked new, but were also sealed tight with black burnt skin. Sayed's curse was based around heat, if he recalled correctly. With the new wounds, Sayed must have used his curse to seal the cuts as they came in. Facing so many knights, there was no way that he could fight without injury. Cauterizing the wounds would allow the swordsman to keep fighting without blood loss.

However, that only worked on shallow cuts. Deep cuts would still bleed internally. A bruise across his chest and at his side confirmed that.

"He shouldn't be alive." Harut released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "But…"

Sayed's chest rose and fell with each breath.

He was alive, breathing, and there was nothing else Harut knew to do. He was no medic. There were no obvious external injuries. All he could do was stay by Sayed's side until a medic arrived.

"A demon," the words fell from Sayed's lips, and his eyes opened.

A strong hand grasped around Harut's wrist and pulled him close. Harut threw one hand down to keep himself up, and it was like lifting a heavy stone to keep himself from falling over. Sayed's eyes danced around the world, unable to settle on a single point.

"What is it?" Harut demanded, his gaze itching to follow the swordsman's wild eyes. "What do you see?"

"Nothing." Sayed sagged down, his hand releasing Harut's wrist. "Hear me, brother, for I fear what I have released into the world."

Harut's eyes narrowed. He pulled his wrist away, rubbing at where Sayed's fingers had caught him with his free hand. He already sensed that it would bruise. It had been a death grip.

"The technique I used calls a demon into the world," Sayed whispered, his breathing coming in fast bursts as he closed his eyes. "I thought I had the strength to banish it, but I fell before I could."

"A demon?" Harut whispered, but the only demon he had seen was Sayed. "Where did it go?"

"Only God knows." Sayed's eyes closed again.

Perhaps Sayed was speaking of the effect of his curse. Harut erred on the idea that the swordsman was speaking metaphorically. That didn't stop his eyes from roving down the alley and his body tensing as he heard the footsteps approaching.

Click. Click.

He turned and saw a red-scaled figure dressed in dark black coming towards him. Sayed's words were pushed away, because he recognized Captian Drake, though he didn't know why the lizardman was carrying a dark bundle in his arms.

"Captain Drake." Harut stood up from Sayed's side and waved at the approaching man. "It's good to see you."

"Looks like you went through the fire." Drake's yellow eyes flicked over the fallen knights. "Those are the Hell Knights?"

"Were." Harut sighed. "Some will survive this, but only if my men can find a healer."

"Set me down," the bundle in Drake's arms spoke in a cracking voice.

Drake looked down, but he didn't argue. He lowered the figure, and as he did, two pale-pink legs touched the stone. Erin's dark hair, slightly shorter than what Harut remembered from earlier in the day, popped out of the top of the dark robe, and she looked over the alley with wide green eyes.

"Bring them all close," she said before looking down at Sayed. "I'll get Sayed back on his feet, then I can help them."

Harut's breath caught in his throat for a moment before he nodded. "Understood."

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