Regret

Frey froze. Time marched on. 'I'm sorry Elero. I don't know what to do.' He thought. His indecision determined his decision

His vision flashed gold, and the cold night air swept past him. Whatever maneuver Alexander had enacted upon him, it was a little slower than the previous instances. The only reason he knew this was because he was able to peek out one of his eyes amidst the flash of gold and, in that brief moment of vision, he found himself high above the clouds. His eyes immediately watered up and closed.

'We are going to die.' Before he had even finished the thought, everything came to a stop. Solid ground tapped the bottom of his boots. Frey's knees buckled from the strain and he nearly faceplanted in surprisingly rich dirt. His hands and knees sunk a half an inch in the dark soil. Thomas didn't fare much better than Frey. The noble clutched at his stomach. A suppressed groan escaped his throat. Alexander walked past them with a hand on his sword.