Whisper

Soon, the snowy plains had transformed into a chaotic, muddy battlefield. The battle kept raging for many hours, until Iohan and Ionathar suddenly faced each other. They both suddenly froze in their movements, and as if everyone on the battlefield had felt the sudden tension, the battle held its breath and even the wind hushed to a whisper.

“I made a bigger detour than I had hoped for to take Eleonis, but now, here’s my chance. Say farewell to your throne, boy.” Iohan said triumphantly.

“I don’t know where you get this confidence. Before you jump to conclusions, I have a proposition for everyone here.” Ionathar said, and then continued more loudly: “We all know why this battle is happening. All of this is only happening, because Iohan right here wants to take revenge on me. He's a murderer, here to finish what he started. Iohan, let’s end this madness right here, right now.”

“And how do you think we’d do that?” Iohan asked arrogantly, sounding almost amused.

“I challenge you to single combat, you and me, blade on blade, to the death. The winner will get what he’s here for.” Ionathar replied without hesitation. Iohan laughed out loud.

“Single combat? Look at you, boy, you can hardly even walk anymore, but your army is winning. You never were a good sworsman, and against me you don’t stand a chance.” Iohan taunted, “But if you insist on carelessly throwing away your victory, who am I to stop you. I accept the challenge.” He raised his sword, ready to strike, dark steel with an evil glint, razorsharp and bloodthirsty, a good weapon.

The sword of the lion rested in Ionathar’s hands, ready for anything. For a while, nothing happened, no noise, not even a breath. One could have cut the tension with a knife. At last, Iohan lost patience and attacked. Ionathar blocked his strike and returned it, injuring Iohan's leg.

Completion Date
February 1st 1218