[center][url=http://www.infinitelooper.com/?v=vnlWEnIl1nA][b]Château de D'Aubigne – Staircase Chamber - Noble's Quarter[/b][/url][/center] [hr] Within moments, the surviving guests and remaining Nezamnissaries rushed across the hallways to unleash rampant death upon the doomed Baktrian Azads and their Zhayedan retinues. During the engagement's dramatic turning points, the Prince lost his balance and fell backwards against the crumbled debris where he once again found himself alongside a familiar companion's location. His lungs burned while his body ached in near indescribable conditions … and yet ... his hand managed to gently brush against his Al Mayrin companion's forehead. Ona's pale complexion, weakened motions, and labored breaths were clear signs of the girl's condition; however, given his lack of elemental or medicinal prowess, he could do little in the realms of physical treatment to remedy her deteriorating state of mind. Any direct treatment attempt would shatter her concentration and expose their locations into Conqvist's seer's vision. Lucius wearily spun around and barely managed to raise his pistol as he was cut in mid-sentence by nearby movement. The large debris that lay near Ona shuddered to unveil a hand that began to emerge through the planks, wood, and marble. As the rubble scattered aside, the large Al Mayrin rose and bellowed in agony as both arms shot into the air. Several large screams echoed through the chambers as the man, though impaled through the chest, languishingly clasped his head. His eyes winced as blood streamed down his eyes and nose before groaning brought the man to his knees. His giant hands wrapped around the green eyed Al Mayrin's soft hands and through sputtered coughs of blood, weakly wheezed, “There ... the other magician … she … she ... won't ... trouble us ... any ... longer.” Through incredibly labored pants, the man bellowed loudly and collapsed to his side, attracting the remaining Valanian leaders to his side. “[b][i]My time has passed, brother and sister V..Valanians! Do … do not waste your … stamina[/i][/b],” he wheezed as his hands emptied an object into the blonde, Al Mayrin's palms, “I … I do not even know your name, but I know that we … are of one blood. The Nurlia … need a leader and your aura … is strong. I can feel it and … perhaps ... as a free Kanal … you will find a way to guide our … dwindling tribes ... [b][i]our dwindling people[/i][/b] ... to ... the...” Grimacing, the man exhaled softly and slowly slumped over before falling completely motionless. His eyes stared aimlessly and brought a lingering silence throughout the staircase chamber. Some time afterwards, a hand gently wrapped around Ona's shoulder before a sympathetic sigh and quiet murmurs followed suit. Having achieved several devastating small-arms fatalities against the Baktrian Azads and their accompanying Zhayedans, chants rang out across the staircase as each present leader of the surviving Valanian circles kneeled to offered traditional Augurian prayers as was customarily reserved for the old Valanian Kingdom's heroes and martyrs. “Ona, [i]don't look[/i],” Lucius softly remarked whilst comfortingly wrapping both arms around the girl's shoulders, “We can't do anything for him now. Best let it be and rest yourself...” Ona did not think the sight of the man would ever leave her brain. It was burned there, permanently. The feel of his hands around hers. The way the pressure of the other seer suddenly went away. She didn’t even look to see what he had put in her hands. She had heard his words but she couldn’t concentrate on them. She was free of the woman, free of the other presence. They were safe to run, to leave this place. All that was left now though was immeasurable sorrow. She didn't think she had the energy or will to run. Lucius held her, urged her not to look. Her body was so exhausted, her mind equally so. Her heart was filled with sadness, with loss. Her head rested against Lucius. There were voices speaking prayers, things she did not know or understand but recognized as sacred. They were praying for him, for one of her people. Had he been their friend? Had he been one of them, a brother in arms? It seemed that way. That made Ona’s heart hurt even more. His one last act was to help her, to help them all. Her hands still clutched what he had put there. Her body leaned heavily into Lucius ...