In the darkness, two blurry figures landed on top of a building. But one of them failed to land cleanly and rolled on the floor.
Elijah turned. His face and neck were drenched with blood. Even the squirrel that was on his shoulder, its fur was stained wet with blood as well.
"I'm sorry… Your Highness. I don't think I can make it." Mike grinned rather helplessly. Blood was flowing out of his mouth as he gripped his hand over the gaping wound on his chest. "Please go on without me. Alexander might still be coming after you… trailing our blood. You can't be caught by him."
Without responding, Elijah just stared down at the man. His grey eyes dimmed as he surveyed his long-time side kick lying in an ever widening pool of his own blood.
"Go now, Prince Elijah." Mike begged again. Urgency and worry were brimming in his eyes.
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