"The grey lord shall rise to the hunt, with a silver halo of blessing." - The Prophecies of Light

Seungcheol felt like he was under water, the feeling of being unable to breathe burning in his chest, before surfacing to take a deep breath. Just like that, consciousness flooded back and he sat up with a groan, his body feeling like he'd been trampled by a team of horses. He'd been laying flat out on the floor of the chamber, probably halfway across the room from the Well, which was now shining brightly with no hint of that strange darkness. Did that mean that they'd succeeded?

Seungcheol heard a muffled grumble off to his left, and focused his still blurry eyes in that direction. Wonwoo sat up several feet away, moving as if his back pained him, but his senses sharpened quickly and he looked around frantically. "Mingyu?" he called, pushing himself to his feet with a bitten off yelp and hobbling over to the prone mercenary's side. There was quite a bit of blood pooled around the tall man's shoulder and side where Jeonghan's temporary healing had broken open, and for a moment, Seungcheol thought that the mercenary was dead.

When Wonwoo reached his side, though, Mingyu lifted a hand weakly to grab onto the thief's. "I'm okay," he whispered. Suengcheol thought he could hear the lie there, though, and instead of listening to their soft exchange of words, he turned to look for Jeonghan.

The immortal lay flat on the floor still, not even stirring as of yet. Seungcheol pulled himself to his feet and went to him to kneel beside him. He looked terrible, honestly; the bruises on his face an ugly purple, and his skin splattered with blood, but his chest rose and fell as if he were sleeping. And it was probably a much needed sleep, with what Seungcheol knew of how Mages tended to push themselves, but he couldn't help it. Mingyu needed his help.

Patting his cheeks brought him around, and his dark almond shaped eyes blinked open into the bright room. A small smile tugged on his lips as he looked up at Seungcheol, but before he could say anything, the blond man pointed toward where Mingyu lay, still bleeding.

"Hells, I wish this were over," Jeonghan moaned, grabbing Seungcheol's shoulder to pull himself up into a sitting position. From there he turned over slowly to climb onto his feet, wobbling as if he might fall at any moment, but he determinedly crossed the chamber to kneel by their fallen friend. 

"Here," he said softly, laying his hands over what Seungcheol could see was the worst of the wounds; the gash in Mingyu's side. "I'm going to put all of my energy into this wound, do you understand me? That means that one of you two is going to have to help me out of here," he said to Wonwoo and Seungcheol. The blond nodded before the thief could even say anything. "That also means that his shoulder wound needs to be bound and the bleeding managable before you move him. Got it?"

"Yes," Wonwoo said, his voice quiet. His hand was pale where he gripped Mingyu's tightly, but his eyes were hopeful as he looked at Jeonghan. "Please don't let him die."

"I won't," Jeonghan promised, though his voice was practically ringing with exhaustion. He pressed his hands down onto Mingyu's side and began to cast. There were no sparks, nothing to show that he was doing magic, but Mingyu let out a cry of pain before clamping his teeth together. It was over in moments, the wound not fully healed but well enough that moving Mingyu wouldn't kill him, and Jeonghan could obviously do no more. 

He wavered even as he sat on his knees, and Seungcheol reached down to touch his shoulder. "Bind Mingyu's wound, first," the immortal reminded, to which the blond lordling obeyed. Wonwoo stripped off his outer tunic before removing the shirt underneath and handing it to Seungcheol, who used it to bind up Mingyu's injured shoulder as Wonwoo redressed. They were lucky that it was winter, oddly enough... they were all wearing extra layers of clothing to stay warm, and so could spare it for bandaging. For a while, at least. They did need to get out of there before the temperature fell too drastically.

"On three," Seungcheol told Mingyu, who gave him a tense nod. The blond counted down, then with as much help as Mingyu could give, lifted the bigger man to his feet. Wonwoo ducked his shoulder underneath Mingyu's good arm right away, taking his weight off of Seungcheol. They made their slow way toward the entrance as Seungcheol turned to Jeonghan. 

"Come on, Lord Jeonghan," he said, a bit of a tease in the title; he was rewarded by a tired smirk. He helped the immortal up, supporting him much the way that Wonwoo supported Mingyu, and they made their way out of the cave.

It got darker the further they got from the chamber with the Well, but Seungcheol wasn't about to ask Jeonghan for a Magelight. They could manage without it, and they did. By the time the four of them arrived at the mouth of the cave, the sun was already long gone, and cold had already set in. Seungcheol helped Jeonghan to his horse and into the saddle, the immortal wavering dangerously but reassuring the human that he would be fine. He saw Wonwoo help Mingyu onto the big bay, and scramble up behind him, probably determined to hold Mingyu to the saddle if need be. 

Then he went to find Hyesung. He couldn't help but to be worried over the High Mage; he hadn't looked very well when the blond had left him. When he spotted Hyesung, his heart gave a lurch and he had to swallow down the pain that threatened to overwhelm him.

The High Mage sat in the snow, about five feet away from Dongwan's lifeless body. Tear streaks told that he had been grieving, though there was no wetness on his face now. He looked up as Seungcheol approached and gave a thin, shaky smile. 

"You did it," he said quietly. "I can feel it, the Well. It's free."

At what a terrible cost, Seungcheol wanted to say, but he kept that thought in check and simply helped the older man to his feet. "Let's go home," he told him, wrapping an arm