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At first there was nothing but darkness.

He could not see, he could not smell, he could not hear.

Yet he felt how his hearing returned to him as he heard the sound of his own breathing. The smell of blood became stronger by the second. And as he slowly opened his eyes he could see a dim light that shun trough the blanket that covered him.

Only when Henry opened his eyes did he realize that he wasn´t dead.

His vision was still blurry and unfocused. He looked down on himself, only to be surprised by the fact that he was wearing his armor, not to mention that it was covered in blood. His gaze focused and his eyes widened as the events of the battle flashed through his mind in a split second.

He jumped up from the table he was lying on into a sitting position, pushing the blanket off of him, hissing in pain as he moved his sore muscles. Breathing heavily, he looked around the room. He was clearly in the main hall, although it looked somehow different. It were the tables, they were gone, or put somewhere else. Only some of them were still where they used to be before, filled with helmets and all kinds of weapons.

While his brain was still processing everything he looked to his sides, where he saw the missing tables, all lined up next to one another. there was a blanket on all of them with something underneath that looked like the outline of a human body.

With a groan he got up from the table, struggling to stand up straight. He supported his stand by holding onto the table while his gaze was focused on the one next to him. As his mind was slowly catching up with all the events that happened a horrible realization kicked in.

They have lost the battle.

Henry reached out for the blanket with a shaking hand to unveil what was underneath. Even if he was afraid of what he was going to see, a part of him already knew. With one pull he threw the blanket away, reveling the body underneath. He stumbled backwards against the table he was lying on only seconds ago.

He looked at the corpse of Grandmaster Maldwyn. His eyes were closed, and yet he felt like Maldwyn was looking back at him. "No..." Henry´s voice was nothing more than a desperate whisper.

He continued to stare at the Grandmaster´s dead body, as if he was hoping that he would open his eyes. As he did his mind was filling with many questions. If the grandmaster was dead, then what was about all the others? What was with Cyrvanyx or what with...

"Elise..." His voice was louder than before, yet still a mere whisper. "William..." He looked up from the Grandmaster´s body and stared at the door. Maybe all the others were in the courtyard. Maybe they have made prisoners.

He was ripped out of his thoughts as he heard voices coming from the hallway of the knightly quarters, coming towards him.

"I´m just wondering why we don´t just burn their bodies as well?" A voice said, sounding like it came from a young lad. "I mean, we also burned the other knights, why not these?"

"Because they are knights of the dragon, you fool. You can´t compare those to regulars." A second voice said, also male, clearly older. "Lord Edwyn has respect for them, especially the grandmaster." Then the two men entered the hall, aiming for the tables with all the weapons on them. "The others though, they can burn on a pile of bodies. Though it still buggers me that I was not allowed to keep that medallion-" He stopped talking and immediately drew his sword as he spotted Henry. "Bloody hell!"

"A ghost!" The younger one of them screamed.

"No you idiot, he´s still alive. I´ve told you see if their all dead!"

"I- I did! They were-"

"Whatever, go get the others!"

When one of them starting running for the exit, Henry finally acted. He ran towards the table of weapons and took a small ax from it, throwing it at the running man. He hit him directly in the shoulder, causing him trip forward, screaming in pain as the ax blade got stuck in his unarmored shoulder.

Before he could pick up another weapon the other man was already swinging at his head, the only unarmed part of his body at that point. But as the rest of his body was still covered mostly in steel, he could use it as a weapon itself.

He deflected his opponents sword with his arm, while punching him in his face with his free hand. As his face was unprotected, the punch caused the soldier to stumble backwards. Henry used that opportunity and wrestled him to the ground, punching him in the face two more times while on him before he drew a dagger from the soldiers belt and slit his throat.

Henry rose from the ground, glaring at the soldier who was crawling to towards the exit, struggling to get back up at the same time. He strode towards him, his angry gaze already fixed on the ax the soldier had pulled out of his own shoulder. Fist he took the ax before he grabbed the injured man by his throat and rammed him against the wall. He loosened his grip enough so that the man could breath and speak, because Henry had many questions.

"Where are they?" Henry shouted at the young lad with all his voice had to muster. It was the first question that came to his mind.

"W- who?" He stammered. Just by looking in his eyes he could tell how scared he was. His whole body was shaking just like his voice. "Who d-d-do you-"

"Everyone!" He yelled even louder than before. When he glared at the terrified lad´s face a while longer he began to calm down. "The dragons." Henry blurted out. "Where are the dragons?"

"The... the dead dragons were all put onto big wagons a-and carried away by the entire army towards Whitestone keep."

"Why?"

"L-lord Edwyn commanded so. He said some of their scales are useful for armor."

Henry knew that Ulric´s men did something like that, but not Edwyn´s, men who fought alongside those dragons in past battles. Just the thought of someone wearing the hide of Cyrvanyx as armor made him sick. "No survivors?"

"N- not that I know of."

Henry took a deep breath, still glaring at the young soldier. Maybe he was able to escape. No, that would not be the Cyrvanyx he knew. He was surely dead, like all the other dragons of the order.

"What about the refuges?" Henry´s gaze became even darker than before as he feared for well being of his family. "What about the innocents who had fled from the attack?"

He heard a loud gulp coming from the young lad as he stammered his answer. "They... we- we were ordered to kill everyone." Those words only filled him with dread, his expression changing from angry to shocked as he spoke. "A- all those who died, the... the refuges and the men-at-arms are all being burned in the courtyard at the moment."

Henry´s lips trembled as he looked away, closing his eyes as he tried to process what he just heard. Maybe, just maybe, they were still alive. Maybe they took prisoners after all. Maybe...

He set eyes upon the hatched in his right hand, his grip so tight that his hand was shaking. Slowly, he rose his gaze from the ax back towards the lad he was still holding by his throat. "One last question." He said, his voice a mixture of anger, grief and shock. "How many men are stationed as a garrison right now?"

"Ehh... twenty-" He gazed at the dead body of the dead soldier on the ground. "N-nineteen."

"Wrong..." Henry slowly shook his head. "eighteen."

The lad´s face was filled with confusion for a split second and then he realized what Henry was implying. Before he could react in any way Henry buried the ax deep into the soldier´s head, crying out a savage war cry as he did so. He let go off his throat and pulled out the ax, letting the lifeless body sink to the ground.

He dropped the ax and looked at the table full of weapons and helmets to his side. He looked over some of them, realizing that they were all the weapons and helmets of the knights of the order, from the lesser ones and from the knights of the inner circle. He picked up his own helmet once he spotted it and put it on. Fortunately the padded coif was still inside. He fixed the leather strap of his helmet as he saw his own longsword among all the other weapons.

He picked it up, including the belt and the scabbard. When he put on his belt he saw that his dagger was still in its sheath. As he sheathed his sword he spotted something else before he left, something that was actually hard to miss. It was the Grandmaster´s massive greatsword. If he remembered correctly Maldwyn used to call it "Flamebringer".

He took the sword with both of his hands, looking at it from pommel to tip. The sword was the size of person and was used more like a polearm in close combat than a sword, which was why it had a small dull section after the crossguard that was covered in leather and had two small spikes at its end, which marked the beginning of the sharp blade. Henry remembered that he used to train with these kind of swords more than once. The knights of the dragon were trained to fight with many different weapon, and these type of swords were one of those.

With a firm grip around the hilt of the sword, he opened the door to the courtyard with a gentle push, flipping down his visor beforehand.

The sunlight blinded him for a second as he was taken by surprise by the sudden bright light. He did not know how long he had been out. But considering that he and his brothers were not already buried and the fact that the man from before said that they were burning at the moment, he guessed he was out for less than a day.

The first thing he realized apart from the sunlight was the smell. It reeked of burning flesh and blood. The burning pile of bodies in the middle of the courtyard was obviously the source of that horrible smell. Next to that pile of bodies were two other that were not burning, yet.

He saw some armed men, 18 to be precise, some of which were holding torches while others were sitting at a table, talking to one another.

Henry stepped towards them with slow steps, dragging the greatsword behind him. He listened to the clanking of his armor, the sound of his own breath and the scrapping sound the blade made as it was dragged across the stony ground. He also tried to listen to the men sitting at the table, but he could not quite make out what they were saying.

"Oh, fuck!" One of the man suddenly jumped to his feet, grabbing his poleaxe as he saw Henry. All the others turned around, also jumping to their feet, picking up their weapons as they all fixed their eyes on Henry.

"What the hell is going on? I thought we made sure they were all dead?"

All the other words that followed did not matter to Henry anymore as his gaze has set upon a familiar face among the many corpses in one of the still not burning body piles. The grip around the greatsword loosened and he froze.

He saw Elise, her lifeless eyes staring into the sky.

His breath stocked and his eyes widened as he saw the woman he loved dead, with blood all over her beautiful face. It was a sight that he was not prepared for. There was no way to prepare for a sight like that.

A war cry from a man charging at him brought him back to reality. As he saw that man running at him, with the spike of his poleaxe aimed for his head, his expression changed from shocked to furious in one second.

The grip on Flamebringer tightened as he glared at his opponent. All the grief, all the pain he felt only moments ago had to wait. First, he would show them fury.

Once his opponent arrived, thrusting towards his head, Henry parried the weapon aside, taking a step forward and twisting his blade afterwards in such a way that he slashed for his enemies legs with the same motion. The swing took off one of his legs, obviously causing him to fall. He finished him by thrusting the tip of the sword into his throat.

One was dead, 17 were still there. When they came at him all at once they thought they could overwhelm him, but they were wrong. With a cry of savage rage he cut trough them one by one. He parried their blows and kept moving so they would not surround him. One by one they fell to the ground, some without their heads.

With no mail or plate to protect them, only linen gambesons, he cut trough them like butter. Gambesons were normally rather effective against cuts or even thrusting, but they were no match for a greatsword wielded by a furious knight of the dragon.

As the last of them fell he suddenly felt an impact on his right shoulder. He looked down and saw a broken crossbow bolt lying on the ground. When he looked up he spotted the last of his enemies staring at him, terrified, before dropping the crossbow and turned to run.

Henry immediately started running as well, but he was of course slower due to the extra weight his body had to carry. Before the crossbowman could run to far Henry threw the greatsword at him like one would throw a spear, with both of his hands. It only got his leg, but it was enough to make him stumble and fall.

He did not let him get a second chance and ran towards him, drawing his longsword. Henry kicked the man´s side, turning him around so that he had easier access on his throat. "No, no plea-" Henry cut his throat with a wide swing of his sword, ignored his plea for mercy.

He stared at the face of the man he just killed for a while, panting out of exhaustion and anger. His eyes set on his dead wife once more as his anger slowly vanished.

With slow steps he walked towards her, loosening the leather strap of his helmet as he did. He took of his helmet and the coif underneath, letting both fall to the ground.

After every step he took his legs became heavier and heavier. Tears were forming in his eyes as he let go off his sword and dropped on his knees as he stood right in front of her.

With a trembling hand, he reached forward, taking his gauntlet off beforehand. He inhaled sharply as he felt how cold she was. No matter what hope he still had, at that point, it was all gone. Elise was dead. His wife, his love, was dead.

His breath trembled just like his hand as tears started to run down his cheeks. "...Elise..." He said with a broken voice. "I´m sorry... I´m so sorry..."

The moment he closed her eyes with his hand he saw something silvery in her hands. He reached out to open her grasps. What he found made him freeze.

It was the medallion he gave to his son.

"William..." He took it and stared at it for a while before his sight got too blurry due to his tears. His grasps around the medallion formed into fists. "...Gods... why..." He started to sob and held his fists, with medallion inside on his forehead, and cried.

He did not know for how long he kneeled there and cried, nor did he care. For him it felt like an eternity, an eternity of pain and suffering.

Once he stood up he had stopped crying, his face blank like stone as he dragged Elise´s body out of the pile and built a small pyre for her. But no matter how long he searched, he could not find his son, so he figured that he must have been in the pile that was already burning.

He burned all the other corpses, also those of his brothers-in-arms, the grandmaster as well.

When he stared at Elise though, it was a lot harder for him to light the pyre. He did not want to say farewell to her. He thought about burning the medallion with her as a symbol of sending his son with her, but he could not let go of it, he simply could not.

After he ignited Elise´s pyre he just stared for a long moment, watching in silence. Only after a minute, or so, he managed to get out some words.

"I... I´m so sorry it had to be this way..." Henry said, his voice filled with nothing but desperation, his face blank like stone. His body might still be alive, but his soul wasn´t. "I hope... that you find peace where ever you are right now." He sniffed once, a tear running down his cheek. "And I hope William is there with you. I will be with you soon..." He gulped once and stared at the ground, throwing the torch away.

There was only one thing he still had in his mind. There was only one thing he could do.

His eyes fixed on the top of the wall and he started to walk up the steps. He walked to a section of the wall that stood at the sharp cliff and stared into the distance.

He held the medallion firmly in his grasp as he stepped onto the battlements.

A desperate sigh escaped his throat as he stared into the distance, his face stone once more. He felt the wind blow through his long hair and his face. It almost felt like the wind itself tried to push Henry back on steady ground. As if the wind was telling him not to jump.

Henry looked down into the eyes of certain death that awaited him down there if he took only one step forward. And he would accept it.

He would welcome death with a warm embrace.

All he had to do was step forward...

...but he couldn't

Not because he was afraid. It because of something else. Henry opened his hand to look at the medallion. He looked the silver dragon right into his eye and saw his son, in his mind, staring back at him. He heard the voice of his wife, speaking to him, like a whisper of the wind it sounded.

Don´t jump. Don´t jump. Don´t jump.

The same words he heard over and over again until he heard the wind whisper him a phrase he was all too familiar with.

No matter how small the spark of hope is, no matter how far away it is. You have to grasp it and never let go. Don´t let go, Henry. Don´t.

He stared at the silver dragon until the voices vanished and he could hear nothing but the wind. He looked down the cliff once more before he glared at the dragon again.

Slowly, his face was starting to show emotions again. And that emotion was anger.

He enclosed the grip around the medallion and stepped off the battlement, turning around to look into the courtyard.

There was still hope, there was a reason why he was still alive, there had to be.

Henry put the medallion around his neck, but this time he did not hide it underneath his armor like he used to. Instead he let it dangle above his breastplate. He walked down the stairs and strode towards his helmet and his weapons. He knew what he would do, he knew where he would go.

After his father died, Henry´s uncle became the lord of Moudeir Castle, his old homestead, since Henry had no right to claim his lands and titles as a member of the order of the dragon. But since the order was gone there was only one place he could go, home.

But before he left, he plundered the storage room for supplies and for oil, to maintain his weapons and armor.

Since there was nothing left for him except pain in the castle he made his way towards the stables. Luckily for him a couple of horses, probably belonging to the men he killed, stood in the stables, already saddled. He put supplies inside the saddlebags, strapped the greatsword to the saddle on the right side and his helmet on the left.

Apart from his longsword, the greatsword and his dagger he took another weapon with him, a crossbow. He doubted that it´s former owner had need for it any longer. He strapped the crossbow on his back and took the bolts with him in a small bag he secured at his belt.

He checked if he had everything he needed before he got on the horse.

Henry looked back at the still burning pyre one last time before he rode off, heading for his old home, with the spark of hope in his heart that told him that the war was not over yet.

This has only been the beginning of the end.

*Authors note*

So Henry is not dead after all. What a surprise, am I right? Now that he has lost everything dear to him he is more dangerous than ever. He has nothing to lose anymore. All the dragon slayers out there should better watch their back, since it seems that the hunter will soon become the hunted. If you liked this chapter make sure to fave and leave your thoughts in the comments!