"Blegh!"
Damian coughed up a mouthful of blood that splattered across the shattered stone floor. For the first time since the battle began, his body felt unusually heavy. Every breath scraped painfully through his lungs, and simply remaining upright demanded far more effort than he was willing to admit. The dark crimson flames burning inside the wound relentlessly spread deeper through his flesh, devouring everything they touched while resisting his natural regeneration.
He had been hit badly.
"Tsk! I could have taken your head if it wasn't for the damn sand acting on its own." Hagrid muttered with a visible frown.
His gaze slowly lifted until it met Damian's. A mocking smile gradually spread across his lips.
"Now who is the fool amongst us, my Prince?"
Even now, Damian's eyes remained strangely empty. There was no anger, panic or frustration.
