Seeing A Beautiful Angel Before my Death

After years of thinking he could defeat anyone and any number of soldiers, Lancelot was finally realizing he wasn't really strong enough to defeat every empire there was as he trudged through the unfamiliar path in the woods, just determined to get away from the people he challenged and had somehow lost.

He was having regret and self-shame as he hurtled through the thick woods, his lungs gasping desperately for air despite how painful it felt every time it compressed. This was far from the lands they used to travel upon going to war. He was lost.

And what was worse, he could not run any longer. His head was spinning because of the loss of blood from his head injury, his sword arm was numb and slightly dislocated, and his feet were sore from combat and running.

It was bad. He was starting to lose his vision, and it was starting to get harder to breathe.

Defeatedly, he let himself collapse into one of the poplar trees of the forest, his feet getting relieved from running.

But he grunted as he leaned against the tree. There must have been a couple of broken ribs inside him.

He started to think that his time has come sooner than he expected.

He would die in the woods alone and suffering, with his family unaware of his death.

He seemed to be so deep in the woods that he would not be found by their soldiers. By the time anyone would come, his body had probably rotten and worms would have probably feasted on them.

Before he could close his eyes and surrender to the excruciating pain he was feeling, he saw a lady.

A lady looking so dazzling and gentle that his suffering heart even bothered to throb.

She had this innocent almond eyes that went wide as soon as she saw him. Her hair was neatly held back by a vouole of braids at the side, eevealing her full small face. She hurried towards him with a certain grace that even his sister could not have, and his sister was known to be over all perfect.

"You are badly hurt. What happened?" She asked. Her voice was just as lovely as her face, like melody in a peaceful afternoon. She bent by her knees and held him by the shoulder.

Lancelot coughed even before he could speak. "I'm...sorry..to have presented myself at such an ugly circumstances..."

"You need not apologize. Or talk. I shall bring you to the castle." She attempted to pull him up by the shoulder only to stop as he grunted loudly, his broken ribs causing searing pain in his sides, his vision blurring.

He got nervous when she stood back up and walked away.

The last thing he remembered was watching her go into a certain direction and vanished from his sight before his eyes closed despite how hard he tried to keep it open.

He panicked.

She had left him there to die on his own.

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