[color=6ecff6][i]I am going to die. I am going to die. I am going to die. I am going to die. I am going to die.[/i][/color]

His vision blurred and life flashed before his eyes, and he could see his mother, his father, even his servants. How sad they would be be when they found that their beloved Edward had passed in a tragic, but honorable death. His mother would sob and wail beside his coffin. Oh cruelty! Don't cry mother! Don't... cry... Why must the good die young? His hearing had faded into near oblivion, and he could just barely make out the sound of Pallas' voice. Oh beautiful Pallas. If only there was time left in life to wed you, and bring you into the family. We could have been happy. But I will die here. How did he get here? Bleeding out from his arm, with no one to save him. He would bleed until he was just a dry shell of skin and bones. Now he could hear other voices too. The voices of angry men off in the distance. But he couldn't hear what they were saying. They would bury him beneath the oak tree, where they buried all of the Hart-Ellington family for generations. For years on this day, he could see his father standing beside his grave, hands behind his back, growing old with sorrow. The Hart-Ellington line would die with him. Edward felt cold, and numbness began to spread throughout his body. He could feel the life draining from within. This was it. It is over. It is over. It is over. I am dead.

Edward fainted and collapsed to the ground clutching his arm, which had long ago stopped bleeding.