Tyrhallan aimed for the Incorruptable, the Belisian Frigate and it’s medical bay. Streaking through the sky keeping a close eye on the mage in his arms as he made his descend on the ship’s main deck. 
Strained he handed the mage over to Firenze who ran up to meet him immediately with a look of concern approaching him with an open visor.
“Take the mage from the Knight Captain. Are you all right sir?” He asked as ordered the soldiers that had followed him to take Arn from him while he checked on his captain.
Tyr wove the well-meant worry aside as he released Arn into their care. 
“I am fine Firenze…” He spoke out of breath, needing a moment to adjust his ki, which he had used to boost his jetpack engines with…he tried to steady his heartbeat as he looked up. 
“Get ‘him’ to a doctor, he’s in need of one.” He ordered gesturing to Arn, though the soldiers at Firenze’s side didn’t need to be told twice.
“Update me please on the current situation.” Tyrhallan asked as he straightened his back.  
He forced his body to listen to his control, his breathing now more normal, though the occasional deep breath was taken to compensate.
The look that settled on Firenze’s face and the silence he kept made Tyrhallan wary for the answers, answers he most definitely wouldn’t like to hear, but needed to know. 
In a gentle almost brotherly tone he asked.
“Please tell me, Firenze.”
“Sir, as you’re well aware your ploy worked, we won this battle and reached our objectives. Two frigates were destroyed and the third turned around and fled the scene…” Firenze started off reporting normally before his tone changed, a frown etched on his face. 
“However we lost regardless…”
“Lost?” Tyrhallan asked as he gestured to Firenze to continue.
But Firenze flinched in shame. “They broke through Captain.”
“But how?”
Then it dawned on Tyrhallan, his eyes widened at the realization in shock.
[i]The Vaimese had outmanoeuvred them, they had split up their army and send in one part of their force, drawing their attention whilst the other slipped by. 
Be where your enemy isn’t, make them believe you are where you want them to think you are.[/i]
Tyr swallowed his anger and frustration, closing his eyes, damning his short-sightedness. 
[i]How many had died for nothing but a lie? How many had he needlessly send to their own deaths? And for what? To have a hollow victory? [/i]
He opened his eyes and looked at Firenze, who was still wary of Tyrhallan’s reaction, expecting some form of anger from him.
“How bad is it?”
The question startled Firenze, but the man was well prepared.
“If the calculations are correct…The Vaimese main army is heading straight for the heart of the Belisian army, they are well within the border, they intended this all along. The Hearthguard will have to bear the brunt of their attack, since we failed to stop or notice them, before they passed. The reason we didn’t is due to them travelling through Deep Sky. With this battle as a diversion and the storm hiding them, we were blind to their approach.” Firenze said finishing his report.
[i]He was a fool indeed. 
Damnit it, Damn the skies![/i] He wanted to shout, but he held it in. He would have no one to blame but himself. His own vanity and pride.
[i]It was as if Fate herself laughed at him and their pathetic attempt at war[/i], Tyrhallan thought. 
He knew that the Hearthguard would be severely hit by all this and that if they fell, Belisio in all likelihood would fall. Years of peace and prosperity would be wiped away if that were to happen.
[i] War will come and lay siege on our doorstep, scorch our earth and tear our kingdom to sunder and I am to blame for it. I alone. Me.[/i]
All because he didn’t look, because he kept no overview, but had been keen to end it quickly and look at the price his vanity and pride bought him. 
“Thank you Firenze. Now how have we fared. What are our current numbers?”
“Well the men are still coming in. So we don’t have a conclusive number yet, but they gave us a good hammering… They felled some of our finest, Matteo, Dariun, Tyndale all fell…but not all knights are accounted for. Including some of Sarban’s men.”
“Have you seen Itzal? I owe him quite the debt. Abene may well have saved my life on board of the frigate.” Tyrhallan immediately asked concerned for his old friend. 
Abene Itzal had been with him since his earliest days of knighthood. Both of them eager and holding onto the Knight’s Standards and Oaths. Often they had duelled and dined together, philosophizing on what it was that made one a good man and a good knight.
Whilst Tyrhallan had always claimed it had been Duty, his friend Abene had always laughed at him and stated it was Family. Or rather the presence of loved ones was what inspired one to pursue on how to truly become a good man and a good knight. And he had good reason for this argument.
Unlike Tyrhallan, Abene Itzal had found the other half of his soul, he had married her and started a family of his own, so it was only logical that the man held them as his ideal. 
He had always jokingly suggested that Tyrhallan should marry his sister so that they could be brothers in the truest sense of the word. He had always hinted and teased him with it, knowing Tyr’s aversion for forced matches as a little joke only the two of them would understand.
The man had always been the epitome of loyalty and when Tyrhallan’s doubts clouded his reasoning  Abene’s clear cut loyalty and devotion inspired him and cleared his skies.
Firenze’s face fell.
“His gryphon came in a little earlier.” There was something cold and factual to his tone of voice.
“He carried the remains of Abene…we…my men and I had them covered up.” His voice now trembled as an empty stare had crept into Firenze’s eyes.
“The beast has been guarding his remains ever since.”
Tyrhallan’s heart fell, his friend was gone. The blow he felt now would be nothing he knew to what Abene’s loved ones would feel when he had to inform them. 
“Take me to him.” He demanded as Firenze lead the way abroad the vessel. 
Leading him to the overhang, where cargo, vehicles and the beasts were stalled and kept that were too big for the hold.
There in a corner of the beast’s quarters an angry mourning gryphon lay, watching all that approached intently. Screeching and lashing out in anger when they got to close by invading the personal boundary the beast had set up.
When Tyr approached he managed to come within the trusted circle the gryphon had held. Still stepping over that invisible line earned him an eardeafening cry and a face full of anger as it stepped in between blocking his path. Two angry orange golden eyes glared at him as the strong beak was ready to snap at him.
"I know..." He whispered sadly as Tyrhallan continued, lifting his hand up to the beast’s beak.  He offered it trust and reflecting the sadness in his eyes that the creature undoubtedly must have felt. If its intent was to harm him he would allow it to do so, but no attack came from the might gryphon.
Instead the strained and painful cry that now came out of the creature. Showing the torment and pain of loss it felt for its master as it stepped aside. 
There upon a stretcher covered by a white sheet a bloodied bodybag lay waiting. 
Passing by the creature Tyrhallan lifted the sheet off partially and took a deep breath before he opened the bag at the top to reveal Abene’s face and torso. 
A ghastly sight indeed.
He observed his face and the wound that had condemned the man to die a cruel death he did not deserve, but one that he had received regardless.
Only one possible culprit immediately sprang to Tyr's mind, before he covered his friend up again.
Tyrhallan had tried to never fall prey to hate, but what he felt in that moment was nothing but pure abhorrence for what ‘that’ woman had done.
“Lucina….” His voice whispered with utter loathing and contempt.