Promises

“Alastair,” he said, placing one hand on his face and the other reaching for his stele, though he shook slightly. “Hold still.” He reached up in a haze, and Thomas startled when Alastair’s bloody hand reached his cheek and fell from his face. “You promised me you’d stay safe…” he said slowly, surveying Thomas again, mustering enough strength for his tone to grow firm. “...you promised!” “I’m alright,” he said, blinking at him a few times, his face twisted into something like despair. He reached over to undo the top of Alastiar’s shirt to draw runes there. “Hold still.” “You promised-” he coughed as he choked on blood. “Alastair!” Things grew dark again.