“He would." Gregory found himself giving a brief laugh that made tears spill from the corners of his eyes

“ALL these f-fairytales, Greg. Where's our happy ending?"

She died a few moments later.

“Jan? Come on, Jan. Please? D-don't die. You're the girl of my dreams.

Please don't die. Please." He continued pleading with her, and then with anyone or anything that might have been listening whilst still clutching at her hand.

Valise moved beside him and set her hand upon his shoulder, her eyes also glistening with tears.

“I'm so sorry, Gregory. There was nothing I could do."

“C-couldn't you take it out? It looks like it's hurting her so bad." He turned to face the fair elf, and she saw tears now pouring down his face and his eyes growing bloodshot with grief.

“I can now, if you wish. It is a..." she hesitated in describing the thing that had killed his love, for it was no pleasant object. After shutting her eyes tightly for a moment and feeling a swell of frustration rising inside her, she looked upon him again and opted for honesty rather than false comfort. "It is a foul thing, this arrow. The head is made from the hide of a poisonous insect that lives in the northern mountains. Its shell is hard enough to make arrowheads from, and it is covered in poisonous sacs. The sacs break faster if the arrowhead is removed from its victim, and the poison is deadly. The antidote takes days to brew, and they smashed my supplies. I couldn't..." She thought to continue, but speaking grew difficult and instead she wept beside him.

A strange thing happened as she spoke of the weapon that had killed

Janette. Tears ceased to fall from Gregory's eyes, and he blinked a few times as if awakening from a dream. Whatever dark thoughts troubled his mind, his features fell into a deadly expression of clarity. With a final sniff, he released Janette's hand and stood up, refusing to Look at her further and instead wiping the tears from his face. As he did so, he felt the ring in his palm and opened his hand to look down at it. The idea to place it on her finger flitted through his head, for what harm could it do her now? But no, he wouldn't risk it. It might have burned her body, and he still needed to say goodbye to her. It might have transported her back to Earth, and left him there forever with no hope of return. Darker images clouded his head of other things it might do, such as bring her back into an eternal torture with a horrid poison running through her veins.

No. He closed his fist around the ring again, and felt his anger transform into something cold and deadly.

“Is anyone else hurt?" he asked. His voice no longer quivered.

“No, master." Emmet spoke up when no one else would dare.

“Take care of Ishka and her orcs. Do what you can for them. They saved your Lives. I have a fight to join."

“We will come!" Ishka offered, just as her poisoned companion fell to the ground.

“No, you won't. You will stay here and kill anything that comes to this place that isn't friendly. Is that understood?"

She started to argue, but then abruptly remembered her place when he met her gaze.

“Yes, master. We will not fail you.”

He didn't say another word as he set back out into the forest, finding the trail to the training glade was easy enough and he sprinted there to pick up some armour. Not having any proper armour of his own forged yet, he would have to rely on the gear he'd used in the provings. It wasn't made for that degree of protection, but it was better than going to war in his trunks.