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    Summary

    The weight of the man on top of Nicolò had pressed him further into the unrelenting ground, dirt and stone dug into his back as he cried out in pain. His wounds had already begun the process of trying to stitch themselves back together, but the saif still in his stomach hindered the ability from completion. The warmth of his body slowly seeped out from the cut flesh, and as the blood pooled beneath his tunic, his hands trembled against the patterned fabric above him.

    The soldier who struck him with the fatal blow, stared down at him with dark, glistening eyes and let out a mournful sound, “Found you."

    (Or. A slight canon divergence detour where I wondered, "What if they were already immortal when they met?")

    Language:
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