In the end, Miniraka fell fighting, his sacrifice not forgotten as the mighty Mary robbed him of his dignity and self, reducing the great warrior to nothing but a former husk of himself. Gone were the strength and majesty behind him.
Gone was Kyrie's mentor… just faint memories left. Uncontrollable tears fell from his eyes, staining the cloth of the bed. A grimace strained his face as the young man clutched tightly to the mattress.
His chest clenched in pain, a deep stinging pain, that spread like poison through his veins. The happy memories with his mentor were the only traces left of him. When he taught the ways of the bow, and when they laughed and argued.
The small and asinine fights, the tomfoolery, the jokes… the time they spent together. Sobs escaped his roughed throat as he wept. Melancholy and overwhelming sadness infected the cries.
