The enemy had lain on his stomach, head turned towards Leo so that his cheek lay in the dirt, hands splayed out around him limply. His sword had been within reachable distance of one, but if he could have physically reached it, he would have by then. There was a ragged gash on his back, from right shoulder blade to left hip and it had soaked the dark blue cotton of his robe to an even darker shade with blood.

His hair was an ashy grey, his eyes an even brighter shade of, and they locked onto Leo’s with a stunning ferocity even as he lay dying.