His arrow was sharp and pointed, the deep blue end pointed directly at the violators heart.

But he couldn't do it.

Why wouldn't he do it?

The olive blooded girl stood against everything he believed yet he still could not let his arrow fly. It would be so easy to pierce her; the thought caused his hand to shake with excitement and horror. Just moments before he had executed her lover for all to see and watched as she cried out as if watching him die physically pained her. He watched her run to him, place one last kiss on his hot blood stained lips, and retreat clutching a fabric that used to be the trolls clothing. She was now hunched over grasping for dear life. The jade blood was overcome with tears just like the girl, and the troll's psychic companion looked like he would be sick.

"Kill her, Darkleer." A voice commanded, barely a whisper. It came from a high blood behind him. The olive trolls face rose slowly to meet Darkleer's; she had heard the instruction. Her face held no sign of fear. It was masked by the most utter disgust. Her face twisted into a snarl and marred by tears, she was beyond anger for what Darkleer had done and was now daring, almost begging for him to finish the job with her.

But he couldn't harm her.

If anything he wanted to protect her.

Darkleer slowly lowered his bow and returned the arrow to its quiver. Upon realization a look of horror flashed upon the Disciples face.

"Kill her now!" The high blood commanded, much more forcefully now, and when Darkleer made no move to his bow the high blood stomped over. A strong hand flashed out and grabbed the blue blood by the neck, suspending him into the air. He gagged and choked and the indigo blood squeezed tighter and tighter before releasing, allowing the troll to collapse on the ground and regain his breath.
"Scum of Alternia." The high blood sneered at Darkleer. "Then let her go! Let us all take pity on this worthless troll." He instructed the crowd. The Disciple cried out as they began to cheer. "The other two can go to slavery." He waved his hand as to dismiss them. The Dolorosa was limp, defeated. She was dragged onto a cart. The Psiionic trashed about, aware that his mutant powers would be put to use in the most grotesque of ways. The Disciple fought her way to the two, determined to spare them as well but the crowd held her back.

"We have taken pity on you! Are you not grateful?" They shouted. But she would not rest.

"Free them as well! Please!" She cried out hopelessly. The Psiionic struggled to reach her, using his abilities to reach her. As he began to free the Dolorosa a sharp blow was met with his head, leaving him as limp as the Jade blood. The Disciple fell to her knees, completely devoid of any hope.

Darkleer glanced up to watch her plight. The olive blood sunk to the ground clutching the cloth once more as the cart was toted away. He pitied her, and stood to leave. She would be best away from monsters like him; it was the best he could do for her. So Darkleer took his leave, filled with guilt and regret to follow the crowd. Perhaps in another life he could see her happy.