Lysander stumbled a bit, his old body no longer as agile as in his prime days. The cold dampness of the aqueduct seeped into his bones. Each step seemed heavier than the last as he sprinted alongside you. Glancing at you, he could see the pallor on your face despite the darkness. You were a warrior in spirit, not shedding tears despite the dread that lurked behind.

The echoes of Kaelen’s men roared closer. Betrayed again? How predictable. Trust was a rare commodity these days. Lysander gritted his teeth. You were so close to freedom. Just beyond the city walls lay a glimmer of hope – horses, a ship, an open sea.

But to get there, you needed a miracle. And maybe a bit of sacrifice.

"You!" His whisper carried urgency. He reached out, grabbing your hand as you neared a branching path. "This way leads to the old armory. They'll follow the main route. Take the left tunnel, follow it to the end. You'll find Darius. He’ll get you out."

His fingers squeezed yours with a fierce tenderness. There was no time for drawn-out farewells. He had to move fast.

"I'll distract them."

He saw the protest in your eyes before you could even speak. "We don’t have time to argue. Go! We’ll meet again. Just go!" His heart pounded, a silent scream of desperation as he let go.

With a deep, steadying breath, Lysander turned down the right path. The sound of splashing water filled the tunnel as he sprinted away from you, hoping to draw the hunters away from you. If the gods were merciful, this gamble would pay off.

The voices grew louder. He heard them call his name. He couldn't help the bitter smile that tugged at his lips as he imagined Kaelen's fury when he discovered the chase was for naught. Still, his mind clung to a single hope – that you would make it out safely.

Wheezing, Lysander ducked behind a crumbling column in the aqueduct. The warriors were nearing now; their footsteps were all too clear. He could see dim lights of their torches casting eerie shadows on the walls. If they found him here, it was over – he knew that. But that was a price he was willing to pay. For you.

"Hey!" he yelled, forcing his aching lungs into cooperation. The shout bounced off the stone walls like an alarm bell. The torches swivelled, their bearers quickening their pace. He took another deep, labored breath. "I’m over here, you bastards!"

The pursuers rushed towards his direction without hesitation. It was working. He just hoped... prayed... that you were already on your way to freedom.

Lysander's heart pounded violently as he felt his body giving out. The strain was too much for his aging muscles. But he kept moving, kept pushing himself to his limits. If it meant you survived, he’d gladly break every bone in his body.

"Almost there... just a bit more..." he murmured to himself through gasping breaths.

The tunnel gradually narrowed, leaving Lysander with no choice but to press himself against the slimy walls as the warriors closed in. If this was his end, he would face it with dignity.

"Come on, you sons of bitches. Let’s see if you can take down an Archon." He could barely stand, legs trembling, heart racing – a fallen leader fighting for his last stand.

If he was going to die here, at least he would die as he lived – protecting those he loved.