[And like that, the wyrm was gone, leaving nothing but crimson stains in the snow, and ragged wounds on Aymeric. At least, if nothing else, they'd be left in peace, allowed to keep their lives as the dragon nursed his wounds and gathered his strength. The next battle, he was sure, would not end as this one had. The next battle, he'd paint the ramparts red with Ishgardian blood.
And indeed, the fight was vicious. Bloody and merciless, the walls left crumbling and bodies broken beneath the wyrm's assault. Surely, had it not been for their champion, for their warrior of light, carrying the eye of Hresvelgr, the outcome would have been far more grim. The wyrm had done his best, even at the end, to take his vessel down with him, hateful and wrathful to the very last. And yet, the eyes were prised from the armor, and Estinien lay limp and motionless upon the stone. Freed, and by some miracle of fate, still breathing. Too stubborn to die, not yet, though his eyes remained closed.
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And indeed, the fight was vicious. Bloody and merciless, the walls left crumbling and bodies broken beneath the wyrm's assault. Surely, had it not been for their champion, for their warrior of light, carrying the eye of Hresvelgr, the outcome would have been far more grim. The wyrm had done his best, even at the end, to take his vessel down with him, hateful and wrathful to the very last. And yet, the eyes were prised from the armor, and Estinien lay limp and motionless upon the stone. Freed, and by some miracle of fate, still breathing. Too stubborn to die, not yet, though his eyes remained closed.
Unconscious, but refusing to pass on.]