𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

꧁꧂

    It was unusual how relaxed Adrian was.

Maybe it was the effects of being stabbed, or maybe it was the situation slowly making his mind disorient the truth, but whatever it was, (Y/N) never expected for it to make the words that he had spoken slip from his lips. She was puzzled if anything, more so bewildered, yet chose not to say anything more. She didn't think she had to, finding that Adrian looked normal so relaxed.

It was a nice change of pace.

Before either of them had any time to continue their conversation, a distant explosion that made the ground underneath them rumble drew their attention to the outside. Opening the door wide enough to see out, (Y/N) froze in horror at what she saw: bodies were everywhere, servants and enemies alike, while workers that were still alive desperately tried to keep the fire at bay while the royal guards continued to fend off the attack.

The explosion that they had heard was product from a bomb that had went off.

    "That's it," Adrian declared, using one hand to brace against the concrete wall as he pulled himself up in a standing position.

"What's 'it?'" (Y/N) demanded, turning around to face him, her eyebrows raising in surprise when seeing him tug his bloodied shirt back on.

"I'm going back out there."

"You'll only get yourself killed."

"Then I'll just have to do my best not to," he stated as he slung his coat and boots on, grabbing his sword in the process.

    (Y/N! stepped aside as Adrian opened the door before, only hesitating briefly to look back at her before his expression once again steeled itself—hardening in resolve to once again look forward and not waver anymore. When he was gone, (Y/N) too picked up her sword to abandon the shed as well, heading in the opposite direction towards the servants' quarters in hopes of finding someone alive that could inform her of what was going on and how to be of service.

    Slipping in and out of the shadows that were made by the fire and looming building, she steadily advanced forward.

    Where did Zaahir take the Princess?

    And Claude and Danny, the King?

    What about Aadon?

    The image of Aadon rushing to help only to get shot or sliced down made her blood run cold.

    No.

    He's strong.

    He can handle anything thrown his way.

    Believing in this notion, (Y/N) ran past the unfinished library and one of the main buildings towards the servants' quarters, her jaw slackening in shock when finding it too ablaze in the monstrous yellow and red flames that licked away at the wood, charring the material and making it further crumble in on itself. She ran all around the building, knowing some people were heavy sleepers and in the panic, might not have been able to escape.

    "Hello!" She yelled, curling her hands around her mouth. "Is anyone in there?"

    When not receiving an answer, she tried again.

    She just needed to be sure.

    Then, there it was.

    At her fourth calling, there was a small whimper, something so minuscule it might not have been heard above the roaring blaze if she had not been directly beside where the source was coming from. Her face lit up in relief as she then used whatever she could find around that wasn't burning to move the fallen roof and walls away.

    "Yes? Yes? Hello!" She called. "I'm here!"

    "Help... please..."

    The feeble voice made her work faster, hissing in pain when feeling her skin bubble up from accidentally touching the fire, however that not making her stop, instead only increasing her pace when knowing the person inside was probably faring much worse than her. It wasn't long before she spotted a hand. The skin was burned off while some parts had blackened, everything soon smelling like burning flesh that made her gag. After pushing aside a few more pieces of debris, she finally was able to pull the form of a man out, setting him on the cool grass and rolling him over on his back, pressing her lips together when realizing who it was.

    It was her roommate.

    A man she had never bothered to know, but was now dying before her.

    He almost looked unrecognizable with most parts of his hair singed off, red crisscrossing up the flesh of his arms with blackened parts encircling, and his feet completely black from the damage suffered. His face was mostly untouched, but because of that, (Y/N) could see that how he continued to live and breathe was agony to him—a type of torture where all one felt was being burnt.

    (Y/N)'s breathing turned shaky, her hands hovering over his body, unsure of what to do.

    He needs immediate medical attention.

    I can't just leave him like this.

    "Y... u..." the man croaked our hoarsely, immediately (Y/N) leaning down beside him, even gently cradling his head to put in her lap

    "Yes? What is it?" She asked, pressing a knuckle against her mouth to stop herself from crying—even if this were a man she didn't know, he was still a person, a person that was now dying because she couldn't do anything about it. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

    "I... It hurts..." he continued.

    (Y/N)'s trembling stilled.

    "I'm so... grateful towards you," he then spoke, surprising her due to how unexpected it was, breathing shaking as he inhaled deeply. "You saved me from the fires. Thank you. Thank you..."

    "Shh," she tried to silence him, still clutching the fabric of his shirt. "You need to rest, no talking."

    But even as she spoke, (Y/N) could feel his life sliding away from him, his breathing soon stopping as his eyes took on a glassy front. Feeling a bit numb as she looked upon the corpse of her roommate, the screams and bombs going off muffled in her ears, she slowly closed the man's eyes before setting his head back down and standing up. She didn't personally know him, but he had been alive.

    Now, he was gone.

    And all because of those who attacked.

꧁꧂