Tears filled up in Gregory's eyes, spilling over his cheeks in silent streams. Slowly, he looked down at his chest and saw a red stain spreading across his white shirt. Oliver's eyes widened, knowing what he was seeing. Gregory was bleeding, and his blood spurted from his deep wound.

     Oliver felt his heart sinking into the sea of despair. His mind raced with fear and anger, and he gritted his teeth. As anger fueled his power, Oliver spun around and swung his hand towards the assassin.

     Lightning crackles from the clear blue sky, striking the killer with deadly force. The impact sends shards of wood and leaves flying in every direction. The assassin screams in agony as the electricity rushes through his body.

     Oliver then hears Gregory groaning in pain and sees him fall to his knees before collapsing onto the ground. He rushes to his side and catches him before he hits the ground. Gently, he cradles Gregory's head in his lap as tears gush down his face.

     Guilt hastens across Oliver's veins. Tears spill from his eyes and onto his friend's face as he tries to combat the urge to wail. With shaking hands, he presses onto Gregory's chest, hoping to stop the bleeding.

"Stay with me, Greg," Oliver cried. "Stay with me!"

"Ol... urr... ivrr..." Gregory tried to speak, but blood began to spill from his mouth, muffling his voice.

"Shh... I'm here..." Oliver whispered.

"...I tried... my best..." Gregory said, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared at Oliver in the eyes.

"...You did your best..." Oliver sniffled.

     Oliver lays his forehead against Gregory's. They close their eyes, and their tears meet as they try to create a quiet, peaceful moment. They ignore the surrounding danger, focusing only on each other as they cling to one another. Unexpectedly, a bulge in Gregory's pocket catches Oliver's attention.

     Meanwhile, Cal and his remaining assassins emerge from the bushes. Cal cautiously approaches the two young men and sees his son covered in blood. His eyes glisten with tears, and he feels a shiver run through his body.

     Cal quickly sniffs and wipes away the tears from his face. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pistol, pointing it at Oliver. Cal's face instantly hardens, and his brows furrow.

"You..." Cal growled. He yelled, forcing himself not to cry as tears washed his eyes, "You Podeshires have killed too many of my family!"

"I didn't kill Gregory..." Oliver remarked. "He chose to sacrifice himself to save me. He promised to protect me no matter the cost... and that's what he did. He's my hero..."

     Oliver addresses his pure, honest thoughts as he locks eyes with his beloved friend. They lay forehead to forehead, sharing each other's warmth. Oliver then pulls Gregory into a tight embrace, holding him close.

     Cal's fingers tremble. He cannot press the trigger immediately. But when he is about to shoot, something unexpected happens.

     As Cal raises his gun, an arrow suddenly flies through the air, striking the weapon and knocking it from his hand. He watches in shock as the projectile skitters across the ground. He gasps and tries to pinpoint the source of the attack.

     A young woman with flowing, wavy blonde hair and emerald eyes stands between the trees. She holds a crossbow in her hand. She raises her weapon, and it gleams as she steps forward.

     The breeze brushes through the young woman's loose hair. She wears a long-sleeved white shirt under a cropped leather vest. She then pairs her brown trousers with knee-high boots with black laces snaking up their front.

     Cal immediately noticed armed city guards closing in around them. Gasping with wide eyes, Cal and his men drop their weapons and raise their hands in surrender. Their hands shake as guards grab them by the arms and pull them behind their backs, binding them with thick rope before leading them away.

     In the meantime, the young woman hands her crossbow to a nearby guard and strides toward Oliver and Gregory. She walks with slow, careful paces, looking at one of the men's familiar faces. Then, she kneels before them, and her knees sink into the dirt beneath her boots.

"How is he?" the young woman asked in concern.

"He'll be fine," Oliver glanced at her. "This is his last healing concoction," he sighed, raising the bottle for her to see. "I hope it's enough to heal him."

"What caused his wound?" the woman inquired, her eyes fixed on Gregory.

"Gunshot," Oliver replied, brushing Gregory's hair with his blood-stained hand. "But don't worry. I gave him the potion and used my powers to manipulate the bullet out of his body."

"Powers?" the woman was startled and began interrogating Oliver. "Sir, do you even know what you're doing? You didn't... you didn't stick your fingers inside his wound, did you?"

Oliver shook his head, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "No, nothing like that. I have elemental powers."

"...Elemental powers...?" the woman wondered.

"...Don't worry, I'm fine," Gregory moaned, catching the woman's attention.

     The young woman peered at Oliver, her blonde locks falling across her face. She tilted her head to the side. Then, her eyes widened.

"...Oliver...?" she wondered, tilting her head and scrunching her nose.

Oliver looked at her curiously. "How do you know my name, miss?"

"You have elemental powers, right...?" she asked, seeking clarification.

"I sure do," Oliver answered. "And yes, my name's Oliver. Oliver Podeshire."

The woman leaned in closer, and her eyes widened in shock. "Oh, good heavens," she gasped. "Was I about to marry a middle-aged man!?"

Oliver's expression shifted from confusion to recognition. "Wait... Sophia?" he said.

"Okay, I have had enough of this bizarre year," she said, trying to shake off her surprise.

"Wait... is that you, Sophia?" Oliver repeated his question.

Sophia let out a deep breath. "Yes, it's me," she said as she glanced at him up and down. "...How did your hair turn grey in such a short time?"

"It's a long story, but in brief... I suppose... I transformed... perhaps?" he replied.

"...Well... your new appearance suits you," she admitted.

"Thanks," Oliver smiled.

"Anyways... Gregory, you feeling alright now?" Sophia looked at Gregory.

"...Yes..." Gregory groaned. "I'm... I'm fine..." he sighed, fluttering his eyes.

     Oliver turned to Gregory and gently placed a hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin. They shared a tender moment as they smiled at each other. With a nod, Oliver grabbed Gregory's hands and squeezed them.

     Holding each other's hands, Oliver helped Gregory to his feet. They stood together as Gregory regained his balance. Oliver lent his strength as Gregory struggled to rise, pulling him up with a firm grip. Sophia gently guided Gregory's arms around Oliver's neck, helping him to steady himself.

"How did you find us?" Oliver turned to Sophia and asked her as they watched the guards bring Cal and his assassins away.

     Sophia stepped forward, her eyes locking onto Oliver's. Taking a deep breath, memories flooded her mind, causing flashbacks to play in her eyes. Then, she began to speak.