[Ridge]
My ears are still ringing as the dust settles and begins to clear. I groan and try to roll over, only to end up yelling out in pain when a sharp ache shoots up my leg. The motion also causes my foot to cramp up, adding tremendously to the torture.
A sticky liquid drips down into my left eye before I can close it. I grind my teeth together as it starts stinging. I slowly test the mobility of my hands, making sure not to be so hasty this time. To my relief, both arms shift with minimal effort. I use my hands and good eye to feel out my surroundings.
Something heavy is sitting on top of my right ankle. I can feel the splinters digging into the exposed flesh around my calf. My head tips back in agony when I attempt to move whatever's crushing my foot.
"Is anybody there?" I howl out, "Sir?"
At first there's no response, then a slight muffled grunt reaches my ears. I try to look around, but I can only see out of one eye, and my movements are limited by the object on my ankle. My throat is burning, and small red embers keep falling on my skin.
I call out again, "Hello?"
It takes longer for an answer to come this time. No words, just a faint masculine groan. It's the Knight. He's somewhere on my right side, further away from the exit. I turn my head and try to locate him, but my whole body hurts and I can't see him in my scope of vision.
"C'mon, you gotta talk to me!" I yell. There's no reply, "Keep talking! Where are you?"
The only thing I hear is the subtle crackle of flame consuming wood, and the faint ringing in my head. I have no idea where the woman is. She must have fallen somewhere between us, but the force of the heat escaping that room knocked them both back further than me.
The tail end of the beam that fell must have caught my leg, which means the rest of it could be piled on top of the others. The door of the room has been blasted off, and I can feel glass and rubble beneath me. The hallway is completely wrecked.
"Help! Can anyone hear me!" I choke on the gathering smoke but keep yelling at the top of my lungs. I need to move the beam off my foot.
If I can't get myself out of here I'm going to die. I'll either suffocate or bleed out, and neither option seems particularly appealing right now. Not only that but I have a responsibility to my oath as a Knight to get both of my companions out with me.
There's no time to waste. I reach down again and grab hold of the object. Now that my head is slightly clearer, I can definitely feel the wooden texture, and boxy shape of a support beam that would usually line the walls of this passageway.
I take a deep breath, which only results in the hot air scorching my already abused throat. With heavy, pained grunts I try to lift and push the post off of me.
Something around me shifts and pops, and the beam is suddenly a few pounds heavier. A scream tears through me, shredding my vocal cords and echoing against the stone walls. I must've moved something helping to support the log of wood when I tried to shove it off.
Tears and another substance that reeks of copper pool in my eyes and then slide down my face. It's hot. I can feel my skin cooking, and sweat soaking my clothes. My trembling fingers extend to my hip, gripping onto the hilt of my sword. I struggle to unsheathe it, swaying my head a bit in a conscious effort to stay awake.
I lift the blade as much as I can manage, and start hacking at the beam. I'm worried about hitting my leg with my weakened accuracy, but I'm even more scared of dying here. I don't want to die alone like this, surrounded by darkness and baked in heat.
All that crap about Knights dying honorable deaths is just that, a load of crap. I don't want to die. Did my father feel like this, when he was cut down on the battlefield? Was he afraid? Sarcastic? Alone?
What idiot bought all that bullshit about death being excused if you die to protect something? It's still terrifying. A Knight has a job, and while death is a major risk factor, a Knight's job isn't to die. In fact, it's to stay alive, to stay alive and protect.
And I have someone to protect. I have Amira, and Martina, and Old Man Pete. The other Knights I haven't had the chance to know yet, and the Riddotha family. I have Kadeeth.
I need Kadeeth.
What if he needs me? What if he needs my help?
"HELP!" I sob and put all of my fading focus on lifting my sword and swinging. Lift, swing, repeat. Lift, swing, repeat. I can make it through this if I steal my mind and focus on what's in front of me.
My ugly cries fill the hall, and both of my eyes are blurry now, which is probably why I can't make out the figure approaching me from the exit.
The once dark tunnel is serenaded with light as the exit comes unblocked. The collapsed stone and wood have been removed, along with the door leading to the gardens. Light from the uncontained flames outside floods the corridor.
"H-here." I try to squint at the silhouette closing in, "Help!" My grip on my sword tightens, but I stop hacking in favor of flagging down whoever's entered the collapsed passage.
"Hey, we got one!" An unfamiliar voice chimes. My hazy vision prevents me from getting a good look at this person as they kneel down beside me. Another figure is with them in an instant, both trying to decide how best to remove the beam pressing on my ankle.
I reach out with my free hand, refusing to let go of my sword with the other, and wind my fist around the collar of the first figure. He makes a startled noise and gives me his full attention, leaning down to hear me.
"The others- I'm not alone..." I can barely manage a croaky whisper, but with his face so close to mine, the stranger immediately nods in acknowledgement.
"I hear ya, bud. Hang in there, okay? We'll get you out." He assures me.
Then the two figures disappear from my side, and I can hear them rummaging around the damage. I hope they find them. I can't have that Knight's death on my conscience.