Fallen

"The prince has fallen!" 

The heftiness of those words were enough to drag people to their knees, causing them to let out loud and wretched sobs. Jasper Argyle, the prince had been shot in battle. He wasn't supposed to be on the battlefield. It could have been avoided if he would have just stayed put like Basil had told him to. But the prince had wanted to help, even after knowing he was untrained. The opposing army had caught him off guard, and he was shot in the head. The bullet had been lodged into his hippocampus, and he had been killed. Many soldiers knew it was inevitable, and continued to fight. However, there were two who rushed over to the prince. Two who had loved the boy, two who had never left his side. First, it was his sister who fell to her knees. She just witnessed her closest companion die, and she could have done something. If she was just paying attention this wouldn't have happened.

She blamed herself.

The second, was Basil. Sweet, little Basil. He didn't fall to his knees, and he didn't cry. He just simply picked up his weapon, and turned. Turned to the solider who shot. Turned to the killer.

He took a few steps foreword, narrowly avoiding death. He took a deep breath, loading his gun and aiming.

The bullet went whizzing through the air, going straight into the other person's heart. The soldier fell, dead within seconds. Basil paused, finally falling to his knees. He also let out a small, defeated cry as he mourned his closest companion. He could have done something, he thought to himself. He should have.

Basil blamed himself.