Mosa gasped for air, his lungs momentarily stalled, only to rise and fall with a desperate, failing rhythm. His blurry eyes opened, slowly discerning Snoino's face above him, his head cradled gently in the man's lap.
Through the haze of his fading senses, Mosa caught fragments of a frantic conversation. Though his hearing was muffled, he could make out the panicked shouts.
"Where is that damn waiter with the healer?!" The guard's voice boomed, his hand resting on Snoino's back, a futile comfort.
"Do you all want him to die?!" Snoino roared, his arms spread wide, Mosa's limp body still in his lap.
"What's taking so damn long?!" He shouted.
"If what he said was true…then that means…" The lord's voice, usually commanding, now held a bewildered tremor as he stood.
"And right after we offered to become a noble clan," Fashma muttered, rubbing his temples, a ragged breath escaping him.
Panic seized everyone present, their minds a jumble of fear and disbelief. But Mosa's mind, paradoxically, was clear, at peace.
Hehe, well, I did it, Gerl… are you happy now?
His lips slowly curved into a faint, melancholic smirk.
"I can't believe the King did this… After everything we've done for him." Fashma swayed where he stood, the words trembling from his lips.
"Even gave up being outlaws." The lord clenched his fist, teeth gnawing, veins slithering up his hands like angry serpents.
Snoino looked down at Mosa's face, his eyes heavy-lidded, brows furrowed with deep concern.
"Don't worry… Everything is----" He tried to speak, but Mosa suddenly couldn't hear him anymore. Snoino's lips moved, but no sound reached him.
What's happening?
Mosa's vision blurred, he tried to speak, but couldn't, his lips felt heavy, weighted down.
Ahh… That warm and cold feeling----why now?
He slowly tried to move his hands, his right one finding his stomach, which felt so warm and strangely moist. Mosa paused, a chilling realization dawning on him.
My… own blood?
So that entire time, I've just been….?
He continued moving his fingers over his gut, whatever little strength he had left guided the motion.
Damn…hehe… At least I was useful to them in the very end, huh?
Hmmm...
Mosa's mind lapsed once more.
Why am I at this much ease?
His ears picked up nothing, only a profound, complete silence.
The evening light, a solitary shaft, pierced through a high window. It bathed his bloodied and worn body, illuminating the dust particles in the air as they floated upwards, dancing towards the light. Mosa, his eyes half-closed, witnessed it all.
Huh… would you look at that… I-It's just beautiful… Ain't it?
His mouth parted, no longer tasting the metallic tang of blood. His muscles loosened, his body slowly succumbing to a profound numbness.
Why's everything suddenly cold?
Everything is just dark…
I…
Can't…
even…
A silence descended upon Mosa. Even his light breaths ceased, a stillness that transformed Snoino's expression from caring concern to something utterly dreadful.
"Hey… Mosa?" Snoino gently tapped his face, but received no response.
"Mosa!" He slapped him harder, a desperate attempt, but still, nothing.
"No…" Tears immediately welled in his old, weary eyes. The lord stood speechless, his fist clenched, a statue witnessing the unfolding tragedy.
General Fashma slowly bowed his head, a silent acknowledgment of the stillness that filled the air, a silence so profound that a dropped pin would have echoed like thunder.
"MOSA!!!!"
"NO!!!!" Snoino's loud cries then shattered the silence, breathing life back into the room. Tears welled in the guard's eyes, his face turned upwards in a futile attempt to hide them.
"Heyy… I finally found a healer… and someone that we could use as a----" The waiter finally arrived, walking gleefully, a hopeful smile on his face.
Everyone stared at the waiter, their gazes cold and accusing. Snoino's blood boiled, and he bared his teeth. "How dare you?!" Snoino roared, grabbing Mosa's worn sword and flinging it at the waiter.
"Eeek!" The waiter ducked, his hands thrown over his head.
CLANK! CLANK!
The sword hit the wall behind him with a sharp clang.
"What took you so long?!" General Fashma's voice boomed, a lone vein throbbing on his forehead.
The lord still stood rooted to his spot, grunting and mumbling to himself, a low, guttural sound.
"I swear… I swear…"
"They will pay…"
"He will pay…!"
"He wants to treat as like outlaws?"
"Then we shall be outlaws once more."
"The bandits of the bandan lands have risen once more!" The gold and silver on his body trembled, seeming to glow and wobble with his suppressed fury.
Above Snoino and Mosa, the evening light continued its dance, the illuminated dust particles flowing themselves towards the window, while everyone's eyes remained fixed on a grieving Snoino.
---The end if chapter 6---