There it was again — movement in the corner of your eye, a silhouette of a human with long hair and what looked like large horns that curled back, as well as broken wings. However, this time, it was different; as a knife shot towards you through the trees, a pale, freckled arm reached out and got stabbed in place of your eye.

Aimilios glanced at you silently, looking down at the golden blood pouring out of his wound and ripping the knife out of himself.