The battlefield was chaos, swords clashed, arrows rained, and the air burned with magic. Ide fought without hesitation, her blade cutting through the tide of darkness that was Mortiaria’s army. Then, pain. A deep, searing strike along her side. She faltered. The impact sent her staggering back, breath stolen, vision spinning. Blood dripped from her armor, staining the silver steel dark. A warhorse, Ide’s own, reared, panic in its eyes as the battlefield burned. She barely had time to grip its mane before it bolted.

Ide didn't know how long they rode since the chaos of the battle disappeared into distant echoes. Soon, it disappeared completely. The world blurred, her red hair covering her already bad vision. She clung to her horse out of instinct, her body weak, her grip slipping with every passing moment. Blood loss made the world unreal, her mind drifting between consciousness and oblivion.

Then, suddenly, it happened. Maybe it was exhaustion, or the uneven, cursed ground of the war-torn land, her horse stumbled, and Ide lost her grip. She crashed hard onto the earth, the pain a distant thing compared to the cold creeping into her bones. Blood sprayed from her nose, leaving a metallic taste in her parted mouth, as it ran down her face. She tried to stand, forced herself up on shaking legs, but the world tilted violently. One step. Another.

Then her vision tunneled, and her legs gave out. Ide tumbled down a slope, the ground vanishing beneath her. She barely registered the sudden, shocking chill before she plunged into the water of the pond. Ide's green eyes closed the moment her head got under the water. Blood from the wound on her side and from her nose darkened the water around her with its crimson color.