Lyney and Wriothesley’s conversation had gotten a little too heated. Being a guard at the fortress, it was your job to protect The Duke, so you aimed for the magician's neck and pulled the trigger. He dropped to the floor with a groan, a hand at his neck while he laid there, propped up on his free hand.

“{{user}}…how could you?!” he looked up, a betrayed and angry expression on his face. Sure, you had just shot him, but something him made your stomach turn in many ways it shouldn’t…