A.N: I don't even know anymore, the stress of finals led me to experiment with angst again.

His breath hitched with every gallop, every jump of his mount as they dashed through the coppice. The reins in his gloved hands were slippery from the blood staining his palms, his knuckles quickly turning white from the strain he was holding them with. He didn't pay attention to anything else than the road ahead - a narrow trail, not even a real pathway, made of humid earth and stamped grass – and solely focused on leaving Quoi Woods as fast as possible. If he didn't, they'd catch up with him, and that would be his end.

A sharp, whistling missile flew by his head and the lance would've pierced his ear hadn't he moved a split second before. Flynn felt cold sweat trickle down his neck. He was fairly certain it was now stuck a few inches deep in the bark of the tree he'd already left behind him, the same way it had stabbed through dozens of unfortunate soldiers on the battlefield just earlier that day.

The pathway seemed to have no end, stretching on and on and reaching deeper into the dark forest. Flynn could feel the strain and exhaustion in his mount's muscles, very much like his own, but terror drove them both on. Once past the forest, he would be able to call for help in Halure. He had to make it.

It was as though they were venturing deeper into the woods instead of leaving. Flynn's mind raced at the same pace as his heart's and mount's. How was he going to escape in one piece? They were already approaching quicker than a minute ago while he was not going any faster.

Flynn gritted his teeth to prevent the growing panic from overwhelming his thoughts. He couldn't lose the remnants of his self control, not now. The road was slowly narrowing into a thin trail edging on a steep precipice – taking that path didn't seem to be safe in the least, but he didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

Just then, as he was about to cross and speed up the pace, something flew at him, barely visible, and struck him in the abdomen. Suddenly it was as if the air had been crushed out his lungs, but the pain didn't break through at first. It was when he didn't feel the reins in his hands that he began to notice a few things had gone wrong. Completely, terribly wrong.

Why was he no longer on his mount? Why was he facing the dusk tinted sky all of a sudden? Why was the animal darting ahead without him? Everything was spinning. He couln't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't think. With growing terror, Flynn didn't know what was happening until he hit the ground, hard and brutally tearing his senses apart as he felt sharp pain piercing through his chest. That's when he realized.

The world had become oddly distant and silent. Though the silence was most outstanding, it were the blurry shapes that intrigued him. Where...was he? Everything was dark. Everything, except for one bright spot far away that was continuously sharppening and blurring again. Flynn tried to squint, but found his eyelids much too heavy for his liking. When he attempted to move any of his other limbs he realized he couldn't even stir, as if he'd been tied to a rock.

Panic started to rise in his throat but all he could do was feel his heartbeat quicken and his sight blurr again. The rest of his body remained unresponsive. He had to calm down, get a grip and remember how he had gotten there. Through the heavy, dark clouds that were his memories Flynn was able to recognize the feeling of grass under his left palm. It was damp and soft, tickled a little when his fingers brushed over the wet blades.

Slowly his senses were waking up again and he picked up the scent of earth, moss and...leaves. A forest. He recalled the feeling of branches hitting his face as he dashed through the woods, remembered the sharp breaths he'd taken as he had sped up – yes, that's right. He'd been running from something. Someone.

Flynn listened closely to the silence of the forest, hearing nothing but the ruffling of wind through the trees high above. Whoever he'd been fleeing from, they'd left him. Focusing on the bright spot shining through the leaves he'd been staring at for a while now, Flynn let all of his memories flood in and suddenly the peaceful semblance of calm he had felt vanished at once.

It was cold, so cold, like ice seeping through his body despite the armor he was wearing. Or more, the remnants of it. Shudders shook his limbs and sent painful jolts as Flynn gasped, feeling as if he was being torn apart. He must have broken a few bones, and the unbearable pain confirmed the rest of his body had most likely suffered even further dammage.

As the pain spread all over, Flynn took deep breaths and stared at the moon shining in the night sky, almost blinding him. It was so bright, even with his vision blurring in and out every so often. Maybe it was all a dream? More of a nightmare, really, but it all felt so strangely surreal. Yet as serene as his surroundings seemed, the pain in his chest sided with a restlessness that usually warned him something was very wrong.

'Nothing is wrong. I'm...fine' he tried to convince himself.

When another streak of pain shot through his senses and shook his body, however, Flynn frowned. Something had been in the way for a split second, something long and slender. With a pained grunt he tried moving again and the object hid the moonlight anew. What...?

Slowly, agonizingly, Flynn lifted his head and strained to focus on the lengthy object. As soon as his vision sharpened enough to recognize it, his mind froze entirely. Time seemed to have ceased completely as he stared wide-eyed at the arrow stuck in his stomach. The end was a little splayed and dark liquid was oozing out of where its head should have been, his uniform torn and tainted dark red.

A choked gasp escaped Flynn's dry lips as he tasted blood and he realized with absolute horror that not only was he bleeding severely, but that black stains were slowly spreading over the glimpse of skin he'd caught underneath the fabric. Poison.

Flynn's head fell back on the grass with a quiet thud. Balling his fists as tightly as he could, which wasn't much, he shut his eyes and tried to hold back a quivering sob. He was going to die, wasn't he? From what he had gathered he'd been shot with one of their poisoned arrows, had fallen down the precipice and broken half his bones. Provided that the impossible had happened and his mount had managed to escape, alert Deidon Hold's inhabitants or possibly the princess, and send help his way, Flynn doubted his body would even last that long. There was only so much pain he could handle.

Looking back at the moon, glowing bright as if none of this had happened, Flynn anchored his gaze to its dazzling shine. Even the heavy clouds weren't enough to dim its light - and suddenly Flynn saw Yuri. His best friend shared a lot with the moon, his hazy mind reckoned. He was bright and beautiful, beaming strong and it was as though not even the thickest clouds could restrain him. Flynn knew better, of course, but somehow Yuri always shone through.

When his sight blurred again Flynn realized tears were clouding his eyes. He didn't even try to hold them back; after all what good was it, who'd see them? He wanted to think he was alone, although he knew he wasn't. He'd never really been. Yuri was gleaming high above, telling him to fight for himself. He could hear Lady Estellise's reprimanding voice encouraging him to do the same, as well as Sodia and some of Yuri's friends.

Flynn let the tears fall. Despite all of that, his strength had left him. He wanted to fight, more than anything, but he knew that rope had been cut the moment an arrow had pierced through his abdomen. The poison had already numbed all of his lower body, leaving him to feel nothing but cold and emptiness growing inside of him. The apologetic smile he offered the moon was more of a grimace.

'Sorry' he mouthed soundlessly. Among all of his conflicted feelings, regret was the most painful. He hadn't wished for any of this to happen, from the urgent call for reinforcements a few day earlier, to the unexpected ambush of more than a hundred foes, to the death of his comrades and his fall. He was supposed to bring back help from the nearest city, cleanse the battlefield from the enemy and work harder to prevent anyone from having any reason to consider such an assault again.

But he had failed, just like he'd failed to keep his promise to Yuri. That vow they'd made as children to protect their future, change the rules for the better. If he was out, what would become of the Empire? Who would take his place, what would they undertake? He could already imagine the many reproaches his best friend would yell at him - with right. And yet, there was nothing Flynn could do. He was feeling colder by the minute, the pain in his limbs growing into a dull ache.

Flynn firmly kept his gaze on the moon, beginning to feel his consciousness slip away. The edges of his vision were already darkening, but despite losing focus he kept on staring at it, a light so akin to Brave Vesperia's, to Yuri's. It was the last light he saw before falling into a pit of darkness, but its final, soft glow seemed to shine even brighter as if to cry goodbye.