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Siris looks at Kurgazu load his crossbow, prepared to take the next bolt in exchange for ending his opponent's life. But before he can strike, heat surges from behind.

A roaring fireball hurtles past him, illuminating the battlefield in a sudden blaze of orange and red. It slams into Kurgazu with a violent whoomph. The bandit's screams tear through the air, his desperate curses swallowed by the crackling inferno. He flails, stumbles—burns.

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[B]"Damn it! DAMN IT!"[/B]

The fire consumes him before he can beg or curse again. His charred body collapses, smoke rising in thick plumes.

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Siris doesn't flinch, but his jaw clenches. His sword lowers slightly.

He doesn’t turn to Ashür. He doesn’t say anything. On the battlefield it's first come first served, but still, a flicker of irritation lingers in Siris’ chest. He wanted to end Kurgazu himself. The bastard deserved to see his fate coming.

But it’s done.

With a slow breath, Siris sheathes his sword and turns away, trying to walk seemingly lighthearted as he walks toward Balathu’s body.

The bridge is slick with blood. The river below carries it away in thin crimson streaks, indifferent as ever.

Siris kneels beside Balathu, checking for any sign of life, but the man lies still. Siris’ gaze lingers on Balathu’s bloodied form before instinctively glancing down at himself—cuts on his leg and chest, burnt upper body, a crossbow bolt still buried in his side.

Siris: [B] "I guess we both got a pretty brutal treatment in this fight huh Balathu" [/B] he says with a small laugh.

Siris crouches beside him, resting one hand lightly on Balathu’s bloodied armor.

They had fought together many times. More importantly held the frontline side by side, covered each other's backs in situations too dangerous for others. Siris was definitely closer to him than many other Hellions, despite the lack of communication from the latter.

And now?

Siris figured he'd have to just do that by himself from now on.

He forms a fist with his hand and light taps Balathu's chest with a slight smile.

Siris: [B] "You're a strong warrior Balathu, I'll remember that strength, rest now" [/B] he says in a quite enough voice to try not to be heard by others.

He then picks up Balathu's spear and lays it across Balathu’s chest. A small gesture, maybe, but it felt right for a warrior he personally respected.

After one last look at his comrade, Siris exhales, straightens his back, and rolls his shoulders as if shaking off the moment. His fingers twitch slightly before he forces them to relax.

He turns, stepping away from Balathu with a lightness that doesn't quite reach his chest, contrary to the small smile still on his lips. As he nears the others, he cracks his neck and stretches, like just another mercenary shaking off the dust of battle.

Like it doesn’t bother him.

Like it never did.