My eyes... they could see things I wish not to see... I couldn't see them, but I know they were now red from strain, and wide from the shock of what I now see. Lachrimus, my comrade, was now shrieking, so unlike himself, but when, exactly, do you really see your best mate being magically tortured by the enemy? Not that much, do you?
       Tears were now gliding down my blood-red cheeks. His blood would forever be tainted on my skin, the memory forevermore in my mind. He was twitching, oh so, painfully as I watched.
        I cried out his name. A strong feeling of guilt was in my stomach. I was the one who wanted to stroll around in the forest. I was the one who persuaded him to come with me.
        But really, they were the ones to be blamed. We were a peaceful race, until they came. Now, even our governors have become violent. For us soldiers, we will forever be under a curse. A curse upon which states that we would kill every foreign soldier and/or mercenary in reach.
        I shrieked. It was the most I could do. The enemy had cornered us in the woods. I wanted to help him. But, I couldn't. They immobilized me. I couldn't move. They had just left my eyes in control so that I could see him, writhing and screaming at my feet. I started shaking violently against my bonds.
        I wanted, maybe even without a wand, to make them suffer. To make them feel the pain that I see that my friend is suffering. I wanted to wipe those filthy faces of the arrogance they had carried all these years, before the war, and even now. As three of them were watching, apparently greatly entertained and one was pointing his wand at Lachrimus, laughing madly. I couldn't help that feeling of rage. He was my friend, my closest comrade.
        Now, he was lost. Lachrimus.
        And that was the last I remembered.