A cold breeze blew past Rion as he stared down at Grathar, who lay on the ground with blood pouring out of the flesh tears on his face.
Rion stepped closer to him, crouched beside his head and asked, "Do you want to continue?"
Grathar's dark eyes trembled towards him, the will to continue fighting still burning in them.
Rion chuckled, placed a hand on his heart and said, "I sincerely respect you as a warrior... You weren't someone who neglects the grief around you from birth, were you?"
Grathar didn't answer but his eyes turned a bit darker as if remembering something that he had promised to keep buried in himself.
Rion didn't need words, he understood that every person had at least a scar deep within them, and that scar was what shaped them.
"No, you weren't. You were made into the person you are by the world around you..."
