Forms of Loyalty

"Alfred," Isra called out gently, walking up behind her husband. He was still crouched on the ground over Helga's unrecognisable body. The room had long been emptied, and only the remaining ones remained. 

"Isra." Looking back at her, Isra sucked in a breath of air in shock, seeing the emptiness in his face. "She won." His voice shook, saying it, and looking back at her corpse, Alfred clenched his teeth. Pulling the dagger out of her body, he held it in shaking hands, eventually dropping it. "Why? Why does nothing go my way?" 

Crouching behind him, Isra wrapped her arms around him and leaned against his back. "Alfred. You didn't fail."

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Alfred's scream was full of despair. "I can never make things right. I lost Isra. For the first time, I have lost."