Alexander tried to rest, closing his eyes for a moment that felt brief.
A faint sound cut through the silent room.
He tried ignoring it, until the thought of a surviving undead would be the end if it reached him.
He opened his eyes—it was harder than it should have been.
He could see it clearly, through the obscurity.
Fae.
She was halfway through the room, flat on the ground.
She slowly moved her hand up, it looked as if she could barely manage it, her arm shaking.
She then clawed at the stone, dragging herself inch by inch.
Her head rested sideways on the floor, her eyes staring at him through the mask.
Her fingers were bleeding, yet tightly gripped the tiles as if her life depended on it.
She looked broken. As if her world was about to crumble.
She was desperate.
Alexander took a deep breath, fully opening his eyes.
His head hurt, each muscle in his body aching.
He slowly moved his hands next to his head, pushing against the floor with the help of his knees.
