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Summary
Krile has been taken prisoner by the Imperials. And the Warrior of Light, Alma Cre'denar, is running on fumes. She's rushes in desperate to save her friend, only to have the Legatus of the XIIth's keen interest cross into more carnal desires.
He had already been smiling when he had arrived, but that smug, condescending smirk only grew towards her comment. "The desires from your mouth and the desires in your soul do not match, my beast."
"Stop talking like you know what I want," she hissed as she tried to steady her breathing. Adrenaline was already coursing through her veins, and almost boiling over with the excitement of this duel.
"I am fully aware of your desires, for we share them." He took a deep breath, held it in his lungs, and let it slip between his smiling lips. "Come at me, oh Hero."
In this battle of blades and bodies, subconscious desires come to the surface. But a kinship will form over a mutual want: black despondency.