Someone screamed.

Three thoughts flew through Nagan's mind: Gath, they needed to leave, and people were running up the incline.

"Carth!" Nagan yelled, breaking everyone out of their stupor as he ran forward, reinforcing the barrier Gath cast, just as the others began trying to break through. Dark tendrils of magic struck the barrier, but the barrier held. Whatever Gath had cast, it was of the strongest incantations he knew.

It took Carth and Az a second longer to react, but soon Carth joined him at the barrier while Az went to Gath's aid. Milora and Aitor, on the other hand, remained frozen. Aitor still reacted strongly to blood, and Milora had never seen...no. They didn't know what it was, yet.

Shrieks continued to fill the sky, now accompanied by many, but the loudest of them all was growing closer.

"That's Bizo," Carth said shakily. "We need to go. He's gone feral, and he won't recognize us as allies."

Nagan could only nod sharply, turning around just as Az stood unsteadily, his face pale. It only took a nod to confirm what had happened. Nagan took in a shuddering breath. He blinked rapidly to clear away tears.

"Let's move!"

Nagan grabbed Aitor and Milora's arms, forcing them to flee. He trusted that the others followed. Every instinct, every bit of survival he had flared through his veins as adrenaline flooded his body.

Stay focused, Nagan, he told himself. You need to get them out of here!

But when he reached the top of the incline, he froze. Bodies. Bodies filled what used to be the reservoir; water replaced with decaying flesh. He was surprised he didn't gag, and if he wasn't still holding onto Aitor, he was sure the other would've dropped.

"Az, Carth, build more barriers," Nagan commanded shortly, momentarily letting go of Milora to grab the onyx in his pocket, shoving it in Carth's hand. "Use this if you need it. Milora, stay with them or help if you can."

Nagan didn't wait for her response, dragging Aitor over to the windows at one side of the reservoir. The dragons still raged above. Turning Aitor away from the bodies, he gently but firmly held Aitor's face in his hands, forcing the other to look at him. Tears poured down the dark-skinned boy's face as his eyes stared back at Nagan in terror.

"Aitor—Aitor, I need you to listen to me," Nagan said, keeping his tone soft enough so as to not scare Aitor anymore. "I need you to tell me what's going on with the dragons. What is Gossamer saying?"

Aitor gulped, swallowing down a sob, but his eyes became more focused as he pressed his lips together in concentration.

"Th-th-there's—s...m-m-m-m-more. D-Dragons. Th—they're-re f-f-fight-ting. A-Am—b-b-bushed."

"Are any of them hurt?"

"All. B-B-Bad."

Nagan stayed where he was, not moving a muscle. Everything sounded distant to him, from the cries of the dragons to their attackers raging behind them. For a moment, he felt so utterly hopeless. How did this all go wrong? Will...will they ever get out of there alive?

He mentally shook his head, and his eyes narrowed in concentration. If this was the end, he sure as hell wasn't going down without fighting for his survival.

"Aitor, I need you to tell Gossamer to tell the other dragons to flee. Tell them to hide in the mountains from the other dragons until it's safe before flying back to the camp. And also..." Nagan's hands moved to Aitor's shoulders before pulling him into a hug. "Take Gossamer and run. Take Ravi if Gossamer is too injured. Ravi can fly as long as she has one set of wings still functional. Fly back to camp and tell them what happened."

Aitor shoved Nagan away. "W-What? N—Nag—" He hit Nagan's shoulder, his eyes wide as he tried to convey what he was trying to say through his expression, something dreadful and desperate.

They both jumped as the sounds of walls crumbling boomed behind them. When they turned, they couldn't quite see what was going on, but they could hear the wails of Bizo clear as day. Bizo had broken through the walls to get to his fallen rider, and he was viciously attacking anyone close. Shrieks of their attackers could sometimes be caught between the roars.

Nagan forced Aitor to look at him, shaking his shoulders. "Aitor, I'm not going to tell you again, but you need to get out. I'm begging you!"

It felt as if hours dragged by between them before Aitor reached up to take hold of Nagan's wrists, nodding his head as a fresh wave of tears ran down his cheeks. He glanced back at the others, still holding onto the barrier, before pulling away. With that, Aitor ran to the window, putting his fingers to his lips and letting a long, shrill whistle pierce the air, calling for Gossamer.

Nagan desperately hoped this wasn't the last time he saw Aitor.

"Thank you."

Nagan turned his attention back to the rest, running back around the reservoir to evaluate the situation. As he looked down the incline, he could see Bizo, a raging storm barely recognizable as the gentle giant he once was. Navy blue scales dripped with blood; his claws wrecked just the same. Mutilated bodies surrounded him as others tried restraining the dragon. However, a few continued charging toward them.

He turned back to the reservoir, his eyes flickering around as he looked for an exit. Aitor was already gone. Strange sigils he hadn't noticed before ran down the walls, all red and dripping. What the hell was going on here? That was when he noticed the presence around the room. Two red, a blue, and a green orbs whizzed wildly above, but most of all there was a strange gradient in the air. Behind him, where the others stood, it was dark, while the door on the other side of the reservoir felt a little lighter. He knew it was risky betting his life—everyone's lives—on a single, untested hunch, but they had run out of options.

"I think I know how to get out of here," Nagan said, making sure his words were heard loud and clear. "Let's move!"

No one questioned him, not even Carth, as Nagan sprinted around the reservoir and into another hallway. He could hear the pounding footsteps of the people behind him, and he wished he could distinguish each and every one of them, just for reassurance that he lost no one else. He risked a glance back, and a small wave of relief washed over him as he saw Carth take up the rear, the very boy—no, man, who chose him to be his second. Together, they would get them out alive. Nagan turned sharply as the gradient turned dark ahead, keeping to the light.

"Az, how did you escape the maze in Carvolier Town?" Nagan demanded over his shoulder, once again dodging to the side down another direction.

"I don't know," Az heaved. "I wasn't even fully conscious during that!"

Nagan snarled. "Well start thinking! There was something you followed to get out, and I think it has something to do with your affinity for the dark!"

Nagan nearly snapped again when Az didn't reply, but just as he opened his mouth, Az spoke.

"The way you're going is correct. You're heading to the light, and I think we're skirting along the edges of the maze. If only these goddess forsaken walls weren't in the way!"

"I can feel it, too," Milora gasped. "It's getting warmer!"

They continued to run, each fueled by adrenaline and pure fear. In and out they weaved, sometimes even skidding to a stop and running back the way they came in fear of the void in front of them. That was when Nagan felt a wash of cold hit his cheeks, and he shuddered at the feeling. It felt as if his mind broke free from something. They had exited the maze. But there was no time to celebrate, as the others stood before them. Nagan mentally cursed himself for not sensing them sooner, but there was no time to think of anything else besides his need to live.

A harsh cry tore from Nagan's throat as he lunged for the nearest enemy, quickly drawing his sword just as the other did the same. The first clash of steel rang through the air.

He was vaguely aware of what went on behind him, Carth shouting orders for a formation. Perhaps he had yelled for Nagan to rejoin them, but he could barely hear over the roaring in his ears. Another lunge, and he cut a large gash into the arm of his assailant. The masked man before him cried out in pain and dropped his sword, but Nagan could only kick him away before another blade swung toward him from the side. Nagan parried.

The little parts of his consciousness informed him that they were in the first courtyard they had encountered previously. The road led down to the town below and their freedom. The first attacker had gotten up and swung at Nagan again, and he blew them back with a wave of energy. But it was so weak. Everything magical felt weak. His circuits ached from overuse, and he knew somewhere around his shoulder he was bleeding.

That was when a shrill cry ripped through the air. Immediately, Nagan whirled around in the direction it came from. He knew that cry. Fallen against the fountain, Az screamed again as a sword was harshly ripped out of his thigh.

And the chime of a bell sang.

For a second, Az saw the same blade sailing towards his head, but something cracked, and someone else stood above him. The tip of a sword burst through the man's chest and was harshly pushed as the spell ended. The man fell back, dead, leaving Nagan with blood dripping down his sword and more of it splattered against his cheek. Nagan's head snapped to the side where flashes of blue light defended against their attackers.

"Milora!"

With a final burst of energy, Milora sprinted to Az's side, immediately putting up a barrier as she began rummaging through Az's medic's pouch. Nagan didn't stick around for long. Something had snapped, and soon another lay dead at his feet. It was apparent the same had happened to Carth. Other bodies littered the ground in places Nagan had yet to reach.

If only Nagan had been aware of what was really going on.

Nagan looked around wildly, his body tense for the next opponent, and he remained so even as he saw none. He stared across the room where he remembered Carth fighting. Carth, however, stood oddly still, staring straight ahead. It took a moment for Nagan to gather his wits, but he soon strode the distance, not daring to sheath his sword just yet.

"Carth?"

Carth didn't respond.

Nagan stood in front of him and gripped his shoulder with his free hand. "Hey, are you—"

Carth looked back at him, his sword hanging limply in one hand as the other covered a growing stain at the center of his shirt. And it was growing fast. Blood trickled down his chin from his lips.

"...Carth?" Nagan gasped, and he pressed Carth's hand firmly back over the wound. "We need to stop the bleeding! Az—Milora, how much of the coagulation do we have left—"

Behind Nagan, Carth could see Az's pale face and Milora's tears as she pressed a hand over her mouth. Nagan jumped when Carth grabbed his upper arm, pushing him away a bit.

"Get them out of here." Carth's voice was raspy and tense.

"Stop talking!" Nagan snapped. "Just hold on, we can—"

"Nagan, I don't need Az to tell me that this is bad." His hands were already growing cold and numb. Blood pooled at his feet. He was surprised he was still standing at all. "We don't have the resources to fix this, and help is miles away. Just get everyone out of here. I'll try to buy you more time."

They could hear angry voices coming their way, probably those who had been chasing them before. Carth turned to shuffle back only to be stopped by a bronze hand grabbing his arm.

"You and your stupid martyr complex." Nagan's voice trembled. Whether from grief or anger, Carth didn't know. He tried pulling away, but the hand held firm. "We're not leaving you behind!"

"This is your war!" Carth snarled, wrenching his arm away. He stumbled back feeling lightheaded. "Finish what you started! Now go!"

Carth couldn't put a name to the younger's expression—something dreadful and vulnerable—but it was harsh enough to remind him of how young Nagan was. They all were young, and they all were promised to be kept away from this situation. Their parents were promised. But now Gath laid dead behind them, Az was seriously injured, and who knows if Aitor even made it out to get help. Nagan, the youngest of the group, just had to kill to save his friends.

"Then at least take this." Nagan pulled out the protection charm he wore under his shirt, still wrapped with the ribbon.

But Carth only shook his head.

I now understand why Professor Fai always made such a big fuss about us getting involved in the war, Carth thought humorlessly, and he looked—really looked—at Nagan one last time. Maybe if we had more time and less pride, we could've been friends.

With a few sharp words, he erected a barrier across the room, separating himself from the rest. It wasn't strong at all, whatever muting the magic here not even sparing a dying man's spell. Even with the void field around them, he was sure Nagan could have broken through without any trouble, and for a moment, it looked as if the younger would. But instead, Nagan stared across the translucent barrier at him. Perhaps it was the swimming barrier or his greying vision, but there looked to be a tear trail running down Nagan's cheek. Carth's expression softened as he took in the faces of his companions for the last time; all children in a war they had no business being in.

"Be safe, and don't let that stupid hero complex of yours get you killed."

Carth then turned and readied himself to face whoever still chased them, his sword raised and his back to his...friends. He had always called them his friends, and they truly were in a way, but this was the first time pure conviction flooded his veins. This felt like something more. There must have been something there if he was sacrificing himself for them.

He felt hollow knowing he would never be able to tell them this. He loved and cared for them all.

Behind him he could hear Nagan's footsteps walk away—always light and brisk—and his hushed words of reassurance to the rest of them. There was a reason why he picked Nagan as his second, after all, and he never regretted it as he heard Nagan help Milora get Az out of the courtyard and into the tunnel that led to the town below.

As their steps faded to silence, he became more aware of his breath becoming labored and his head growing heavy. The adrenaline was wearing off, and he wondered if Nagan saw how badly his arms trembled.

Up until that moment, he never knew how scared he was to die.