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In going out that night, Scholomance knew he wasn't doing himself any favors. The sole motivator behind his outing was a singular, clawing need that burrowed itself so deeply into his being that he thought it inseparable from his very identity as a person. He knew that, by doing this, he would drive that need further within himself. He knew that the night offered little more than chills, isolation, and mistakes, but he felt that became the point - if he risked enough mistakes, if he intended enough missteps, then perhaps he could induce a faster learning curve. Perhaps, if he forced that need so deep that it was buried in his very core, then he could smother it away with himself. If his feverishly backwards plan worked, perhaps he would be rid of it.

So he prowled the lesser portions of town, amidst the irregular pinpricks of city lights that cast yawning shadows on old walls. He looked for the familiar signs - the restless hustlers in their hoodies, the pair of shoes hanging from power lines - but found little luck in his excursion. Most often he sensed a page, or a senshi, or a captain amongst the night's blankets that forced him away from his latest search. He found that he spent more time running from the erratic energy signatures than pursuing his goal. And he tired, oh how he tired so easily now, with his bum leg and his aching heart.

There were, however, two signatures, stacked upon each other, that he felt confident he could ignore. A Negaverse Captain and a Squire by feel, that much he still recognized, and he did not care what their business amounted to. He sensed that they hadn't moved, and that was all he needed to carefully prowl the perimeter. Curiosity begged that he inquire, that he perch atop a parapet and look upon the pair in the night, but he refused it in favor of parsing through a last passage between streets. The ancient alley left no sign of the dregs of society that he sought.

Finally he relented, and in a single leap, managed a single-story building boasting a shoemaker's shop. He paused shortly before the neon sign, allowing darkness to retain him while he surveyed the scene before him. The streets were wider here - an accommodation for the large warehouses in the vicinity, undoubtedly - so a great span of dusty tarmac stretched between himself and the adjacent buildings. There, as two strips of blown tire on the side of the road, lay the squire and captain in the throes of battle. From looks alone, the captain already won - his hand was no longer visible, and Scholomance knew well where it must lay. The squire hadn't moved. Peering, then, he recognized her vaguely from a recent encounter. Was she not at his Wonder earlier? Yes, that was her, faced against the resident general who arrived there.

It seemed that one wasn't terribly bright after all.

As his hands were tied in deal, Scholomance lingered a moment longer to watch for the exact second of death. Morbid curiosity provided fleeting reprieve from his drive, and he needed it then.

With the hand removed from her chest, Hy-Brasil felt a rush of relief flow through her body. Being turned into a youma, which she had no clue was even possible until now, was not something she ever wanted to be faced with. Never. If she was more able to think clearly she may have even been ashamed that she had nearly killed someone, youma or not.

She didn't respond to his threat. There was no need since there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that he would carry through with his threat. He had proved well enough tonight that he'd do anything to protect that youma of his and Hy was not at all interested in finding out how one creates a youma from a person.

Finally he removed himself from straddling her. The lifted weight meant she could breath somewhat easier, but the jiggling of the sword in her gut made that a bit hard as she held her breath against the pain. She hissed through clenched teeth, mentally terrified for the moment he would pull the blade from her.

Unlike Sanidine, Hy had no clue that there was anyone else around. Searching for signatures hadn't really been the top of her priority, especially now. The creeping squire was completely lost to her.

As if by some miracle, Hy felt the blade disappear from her body without the abrupt and what she would have assumed to be the painful extraction of the blade. Though with the lack of something there, the warm flow of blood became much more apparent and the page tentatively and carefully reached down with her good arm to try and cover the wound. Her efforts did little besides soak her hand in her vain attempt.

Funny how she had managed to avoid being killed outright only to likely bleed to death in the middle of the street. Carefully she tried to push herself up before falling back again with a gasp of pain as the world darkened momentarily. "Dammit..."

The sound of something striking the ground in a steady rhythm was what pulled her attention from her mind’s inner images of how she’d die there on the street in a pool of her own blood. Listening carefully she could make out the sound of footsteps as well and momentarily wondered if the Captain had decided to come back and finish the job. Muscles tensed, expecting something more to come down upon her. She may be in terrible shape and on death’s door without any proper aid but she was far from willing to lay there and let it just happen. At least that’s what she told herself. It wasn’t likely she’d be able to do much of anything if she needed to put up a defense.

Suddenly though, it was not the blonde captain cold hard stare that filled her vision but that of a fellow Knight, and a familiar one at that. She didn’t know much of anything about the squire who so casually leaned over her, studying her as if she were some sort of specimen on display, but to say she wasn’t relieved would be a complete lie. As stated, maybe luck was on her side tonight after all. Though she certainly had an odd way of showing herself. It would have been much better if lady luck had kept half of the injuries from even happening. Ah well, she couldn’t be picky at a time like this.

At his prompting for her to stay still, she nodded and removed her hand from the pooling wound as he set to work tearing bits of her uniform up to work as bandages. She didn’t complain. Hell, she wasn’t in a position to complain even if she cared to. With the waded gloves pressed into the wound she hissed a breath through her teeth. That had been terribly unpleasant in multiple ways. Not only was it painful but to have the sensation of something pressing down and into her body that she knew shouldn’t be able to was extremely odd. Through his ministrations she kept herself as still as possible.

Feeling hands and arms reach under her, Hy soon found herself cradled in the squire’s arms. It was hardly comfortable for her courtesy of the beating she had taken, but she uttered no complaints. Instead she rest her head against her savior’s shoulder and looked up at him. Studying him.

There was something familiar about the Saturn squire. Something she couldn’t put her finger on. With the mask her wore it made it difficult for her to try and figure out why he seemed so familiar. It must be from his Wonder. She assumed as her eyes slowly began to droop closed from exhaustion. “Thank you.” She muttered softly before wincing slightly at a rather painful throb expanded through her body. “I...was stupid.” She remarked before forcing her eyes open to look at him again. “Lucky you came along.” She offered him a soft smile.

It was a painful travel for both of them. Not that Hy had any clue that her rescuer was dealing with his own physical pains. But as they neared the hospital the young woman finally powered down. The page clothing was quickly replaced with a light weight blue spring sweater and jeans. The sweater didn’t stand much of a chance against the wound and would need to be discarded as a lost cause. Gwen didn’t even think about that though. Eyes closed, still resting against Scholomance’s shoulder she was doing her damn best to keep herself together long enough to reach a hospital.