"I-It's okay L-Lo," Marek stuttered. The blood filling his lungs made it difficult to speak.
"It's not okay! You're dying and I can't save you."
"Y-You know this is for the be-best. I-I took care of my ma-master myself. Y-You wouldn't have do-done it and neither wo-would Isadora—" He coughed, blood smearing his face. "Be-Because you know, no matter what, he's still my ma-master."
"Don't speak," Logi pleaded, unable to watch him suffer through this.
"The Dis-Disciple must carry the si-sins of his ma-master." Marek held Logi's hand tightly, almost like he feared leaving him behind. "I don't regret what I did." He forced out, quivering and rasping.
Logi's bottom lips trembled. "I can't do this without you, Marek, not again."
Marek forced a smile on his lips, tears sliding down to the back of his head, but it was tainted with blood, and his eyes turned red.
He collapsed, but Logi held him.
