Chapter Text
Run. Run. Run.
His boots thudded on the ground the same way they had done the previous two times. Only now, the boots weren’t his usual black boots, but iron ones.
Run. Run. Run.
Scott kept his head low as to avoid oncoming arrows, and kept himself streamlined as he fled through the forest.
What if he stopped running and let Ren and Martyn kill him? That would be a sad end, but it would give him back Jimmy, right?
Without the time to ponder on these thoughts though, he kept running.
“Get back here, laddie!”
A fiery arrow shot past Scott, barely grazing his neck, but it still left a slight singe behind.
Jimmy would be pissed if he let them kill him. The elf decided right there, with the energy he’d been lacking for the past few days, that he wasn’t going out without a fight.
“Scott, you’d better stop running and surrender. Me and Ren are gonna get you anyway.”
Now Martyn was saying these things?
Cackles filled the watchers’ abode.
”Kieran, I know I deserve the praise, but it’s getting tiring now.”
“But Xelqua, you really know those mortals’ weaknesses! I mean, who would’ve guessed the elf needed the canary to function? I’m in awe! And the blonde one?”
“Don’t flatter me, Kieran. Don’t flatter me.
Best friend.
Best friend.
Best friend.
Best friend.
Enemy of Dogwarts.
Best friend.
Best friend.
Enemy of Dogwarts.
Enemy of Dogwarts.
Most wanted dead.
Best friend.
Enemy of Dogwarts.
Martyn hissed, and kept charging forward, towards Scott, into the forest, with Ren.
Run. Run. Run.
That was the only thing in Scott’s head.
He had to stay alive.
What was the land like after this part of the forest? Was it flat plains? Thicker forests? Steep mountains?
The elf had forgotten, but he hoped it would be forgiving.
Run. Run. Run.
The new stretch of land was nearing. It could be a deep valley, an abandoned base, or maybe a pitfall trap.
…
Scott mentally screeched in terror when he saw where he had to run.
It was not forgiving.
It was a steep mountain, which he was backed into.
Run. Run. HALT!
With nowhere to go but backwards, the elf spun around, and began wildly swinging his sword around. He did occasionally hit flesh, but it didn’t deal much damage. Still, the energy burst he was having was doing wonders for him not to collapse.
Was this adrenaline?
If it was, it was saving Scott in the moment. But it had no chance of saving him against Ren.
An iron sword versus Ren’s trusty netherite one? You think that’s a competition?
One purposeful stab with the sharp, deep purple metal, and lighting filled the air.
Scott was dead.