Oak was laying on the ground of a cave, cool stone on his back. He had just been stabbed and left there to bleed out. There were dead soldiers around him— dead soldiers he had killed.

Oak felt like he was going to die there. Until he heard footsteps and felt a presence. He wanted to scream, to tell someone he was there. But his throat was dry, and his eyes involuntarily closed.

Maybe this was an angel, come to save him.