"Marto, Marto ! !" the old wizard slowly opened his eyes and turned his head toward the door.
"Marto, open the door !."
"Can't old friend," said Marto in a whisper, trying to get to the desktop using the wall.
It was slow, and the wizard felt that he became weaker after each step he took. When he finally came to the table, he sat down heavily in his chair and tried to breathe.
"Marto !!." the blows on the door became harder.
The wizard looked sadly toward the door as he took the pen with shaky hands, and began to write. Each word was like running a marathon for him, with his old hands shook more and more. The wizard bit hard on his lips and tried to keep his eyes open. When he wrote the last words the door flew up with a big bang. The wizard looked up and looked at his old friend, elf Eraá.
"Er ......." the wizard tried to say something but nothing came.
"Marto, no," Eraá ran to the wizard and tried to lift him from his chair. "It's not your time yet." Said Eraá and tried not to cry.
The wizard looked up at him and whispered. "It ... .is ... my ... t ... .Time ... ... old ... friend ... uh."
"Marto ?," Eraá shook his shoulder, but nothing happened. "No," Eraá blinked and leaned against the wall. "No ." He could not believe it when he saw his friend lying dead on the floor.
Eraá sat there for several minutes before he finally stood up and started walking towards the door.
"Here we go again," He told to himself as he walked down the hall while the guards took away the body.