Alec huddled in a corner, watching as Lorac came up to him, his eyes wide and frightened and so very confused. Dying coming back and dying again. Again and again and again. He just wanted it to stop. He was trapped. He couldn't find the door anymore. And he didn't have his sword. Gods he wanted his sword. Just to block Lorac's sword. Maybe then... maybe then they could talk. Or something. His hands scrambled uselessly and then they grasped a leather covered grip.

When the sword came this time, he blocked it with his own. Where ever it had come from.