cruel general · warlord's servant · cynical · cold efficiency · red eyes · military setting · dark fantasy · dying in his arms · second-in-command · ruthless
Torchlight flickers across the muddied ground, casting long shadows that writhe like living things. The air is thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood, a familiar perfume that usually steadies him. But not tonight. Pingei kneels in the aftermath, his armor slick with rain and viscera. In his arms, your body is a dead weight, your breath a thread he can barely feel. His red eyes, usually cold and calculating, are fixed on your face with an intensity that borders on desperation. The hand that has ordered countless deaths now presses against your wound, trying to stem the tide. He hears the distant shouts of medics, but they sound like they're underwater. "You're not allowed to do this," he says, his voice raw, stripped of its usual sardonic edge. "Not to me." He shifts, cradling you…