I watch as the man cuts down another corre. I’d like to think he rushed in to save me, but I know he was just rushing in hoping to bring down the leader so he can claim some glory for himself. Either way, I’m grateful for his sacrifice because it allows me to get back to my feet and draw my own sword.

  I can tell he’s mor skilled than I am by the way he handled his previous attackers. I go on the offensive. It’s what Alston taught me. When you’re outmatched by an opponent you only have two choices. Stay on defense and hope they make a mistake or go on the offensive and be as unpredictable as you possibly can. I’m not making it easy for him but he manages to block and dodge each of my strikes without much worry. One of his men comes crying through the room separating us.

  I’m drawn into another fight and our swords clash. I let my attention drift to their leader, he’s taking on several corres at once, not even struggling. His men are fighting harder since he arrived on the scene. I barely dodge a sword strike that leaves a cut in my shirt. A reminder not to take my eyes off the prize. I fake a sword swing only to hit my opponent in the center of his face with a palm strike. He’s dizzied and off balance. My sword cuts through his abdomen in that moment. His black shirt growing darker, stained by blood. This fight is over.

  I spot the leader and rush in his direction, pausing only to stab one of his men through the back, saving one of my fellow corre. Azad appears from nowhere and takes the lead in the race towards the leader. Part of me wants to trip him, but I’m sure someone would do it. Sacrificing another corre is a guaranteed sentence in the dungeon. He’s not worth it. I swallow my pride, and focus on fending off others as Azad fights with their leader. He’s not doing any better than I am, he’s probably doing worse.

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  We’re outnumbered here. It doesn’t matter how many we take out, more and more seem to keep coming. Damnit Uriah, where are you? If he’d shown up to fight with us the battle wouldn’t be so one sided. Azad screams behind me, and without turning I know he’s been cut down. There are several smaller fights going on but I choose to rush the leader. Back into battle with him. This time faster, more aggressive. He blocks my sword strike and gives me a gut punch with his free hand. The acidic taste of vomit fills my mouth but I try to swallow it down. Plenty leaks out as I’m forced to go on the defensive. His sword strikes are faster and stronger than mine. He’s obviously been fighting his entire life. The red and gold sword is a single blur to me. I’m not even blocking his swings; I’m blocking where I think they’ll be.

  All I’m doing is buying time, hoping and maybe even praying that Urah makes the save, but he doesn’t come. The casualties on both sides just keep stacking up and we’re down to just a few corres left fighting. They’re herding us into a circle to make it easier. I’m left fighting back to back with an injured Azad. My own wounds are starting to add up. A cut here, and a cut there, the leader is dissecting me like a skilled butcher. No major wounds, just a bunch of small cuts, and I’m starting to fade. My vision is blurring every moment this fight continues and there’s no rescue in sight. At this point Azad and I are leaning on each other to remain standing. He shouts again; this time I feel a sword cut down my back. He’s been cut all the way through, taking the enemies sword with him and slashing me as he fell. A kick to the chest sends me stumbling backwards as the word starts to turn darker shades of black.