"It's too late, Quicksilver."
The figure in front looks fuzzy, and it's(his?) voice sounded faintly familiar.
"For us, the Drakes, there is only one path: to follow the King, to obey his orders. ALL his orders."
The figure moved closer. It(he?) drew something out; something long and gleaming. A sword?
"And since you, my friend, has chose to disobey our King, there's only one path left for you."
As he moved closer, it became apparent that he's a man. A tall man, not overly tall, but still tall.
"I have known you for so many years, Quicksilver. I had always liked you, loved you even. You are like the brother I never had."
He paused. Stared into his sword. Then advances slowly.
"Sadly, it's too late. If you had listened to my advice, perhaps you will still be pardoned. Thrown into prison for a few years, maybe, but still alive. Unfortunately, the King had gave the order. And, as a Drake, I will do what must be done."
He approached. Now he is just about two steps away. Paused.
"I don't want to do this. I really don't. But I will not repeat your mistakes. I will follow orders."
He raised his sword.
"Goodbye, Quicksilver. Don't worry, this will be quick."
He brought down his sword.
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