More footsteps pounded up the steps, the weight seemed too much to be Yassym. It was Lord Christos himself, his armor was scuffed and had a few marks on it, but he appeared fine nonetheless. He too had studied the arcane arts, perhaps he could save her.
Followed closely by Saigar the Hawkman, who had to turn sideways to enter through the doorway. The battle must have been won, because Christos had removed his famed helmet and more than likely left it with Red Steel.
His short reddish-brown hair was wet and stuck to his head, and his deep blue eyes gave way to much depth and mystery. Christos had a story locked up inside, but had never shared and probably never would. But those things didn’t matter at this time.
“Marsden,” the girl gasped, he leaned in close so he could hear, he’d given up on trying to tell her to be quiet, she insisted on speaking nonetheless, “My name …” she coughed, Marsden leaned a bit closer, “My name is …” she swallowed, Marsden could tell she was using her dying breathes to give him this information, as tears rolled out of her eyes, tears too welled up in his eyes, “My name is …”
As she spoke Marsden heard Lord Christos in his heavy plate armor stepping toward them. Marsden had never experienced a person such as Melise, dying right before him.
If any innocents had died during one of their battles, he was never close enough to see them actually dying.
“Melise…” Her body went limp, her head fell the couple of inches she had lifted it up trying get closer to him, her eyes were still open.
“Sir Marsden?” Lord Christos demanded, “What did she say?”
“She said,” Marsden batted his eyes hard to hold back his tears, and his grief, “She said,” his voice wavered, so he cleared his throat, but the lump was still there, pushing hard, swallowing and tried again, sitting back onto the heels of his feet, “She said her name was Melise.”
“Her name?” Lord Christos repeated.
“Melise, sir,” Marsden reiterated putting emphasis on her name.
“Melise? That name sounds terribly familiar…” Lord Christos begin trying to recollect a long lost memory, Marsden reached over and ran his hand down the girl’s face, closing her eyes and mouth. Her skin was as soft as a baby’s…
This was exactly the kind of thing that Grom Darkstone and the Dark Behemoth wanted… Innocent lives to be used, then discarded as bones from a lamb. Marsden allowed a couple of tears to roll down his face and off his chin.
“By the stars!” Lord Christos shouted so loudly and suddenly it frightened him, and he flinched backward, “Melise is my niece!”