You’re always so bold, my brother. When we were called into this war, the village mourned our loss-yet you weren’t phased.

It’s been a year now, and I understand your moves-more then any opponent.

You always race into the thick of it, ignoring my cries for you to be careful, to slow down. I thank the gods that your white stallion makes you distinguishable amongst the chaos.

My brother, you may not see it, you may not even register it, but I am always by your side. In every battlefield, I am the one, shielding you from the flying arrows, pushing back the foe with the broadsword.

You never register it-how you favor your left side, how you make your right side stand put as your weakness.

You never register it- how your steady gaze forward makes it easy to sneak up on you.

My brother, you march fiercely into the battle-eager to see it end sooner. Yet you don’t see how much you put your life at risk.

You don’t see how much your death would ruin your wife, how much it would ruin me.

Maybe that’s why I lie here. I don’t matter. The battle’s ended, I lie here bleeding to death. I tried to tell you that there’s no point-yet you’re so desperate to get help.

My brother, it’s going to be okay. Even as I die, I will protect you. I swear by the Hells themselves, I will get you home.