They met halfway through the field, clashing their swords into one another. The defender was surprised for a moment; his weapon survived a clash of this magnitude. After all, it was an old blade, which he did not have time to reforge in to its former glory. His father gave it to him as a gift. Sir Lionel told him that it has a special power once he makes it his own. But right now it was dormant. Right now all he had was his skills, his sorrow, and his anger.

Wingrall betrayed him. Betrayed the whole village and was planning to do harm to the people he once too called his own. The aspirant could not let that happen. Still, does he have what it takes to take down his former brother?

All this was but a moment of thinking. Wingrall took advantage of this and quickly broke the sword lock by pushing his opponent's blade downwards, opening him to a strike at his neck.

This made the young warrior snap back to the fight and duck away from the strike, only avoiding it by a hair and striking his foe in the knee with his free hand. This struck the attacker for a moment, enough for the young warrior to jump back up and give his opponent a backhanded strike, giving a little space between them.

But the cunning brute would not be beaten so easily. He even chuckled as he wiped away a drop of blood from his mouth.

'Well, well,' he said. 'This dog has some fight in him after all.'

'Wingrall, please. Don't make me do this. If you won't stop for the sake of me, think of your family. They took you in; they loved you as their own. Would you really leave them behind?'

The cloaked Villian's face soured for a moment.

Then he spoke.

'It is up to them. Should they not oppose me, I will give them a place in my new domain. If they stand in my way, well, they will have the same fate as you!' The betrayer charged again.

The young aspirant was ready this time. He was done talking. Deep down, he accepted the fact. He cannot save the one he once called brother.

Wingrall thrust his blade forward, intending to impale his opponent. The squire quickly struck the move aside and tried to deliver a blow to his enemies arm, but it missed as his opponent took a swift step to the right, punching him in the ribs. This broke his attack, but there was no time to recover as his attacker struck again.

They started dealing blows. Every strike met with a parry. Any attack that would have slayed any other foe was dodged. The wounded spectators could hardly keep up as the fight got more and more intense. Every time one took advantage with a full-powered blow, the other avoided it and turned it into a strike of their own.

Still, as the fight went on, they got more and more wounded. One of Wingrall's thrusts was barelly avoided by the young warrior, wounding him on his side. Pain ran through him; he could taste the blood in his mouth. And hear a voice in his head. 'Kill him.' He turned the pain into motion as he feigned a strike to his foe's left, quickly turning it to the right, and slicing the traitor across his chest. Wingrall moved away but could not avoid the full blow. He cried out in pain and anger.

Then they continued. They knew every trick the other had. Every strength, every weakness. They were evenly matched. Or so it seemed.

They engaged in another sword lock. The betrayer started to become impatient. He wanted to end this feud already. He wanted to slay these fools and take what was his right.

'Enough of this game! I have more fun to be had,' he acclaimed. 'I shall go back to the village. I will take everything that is mine! Besides, taking some, I will enjoy more than others.'

The warrior was shocked by those words. His rage grew inside him more and more. 'He can't mean...'

But his trail of thoughts was quickly derailed as his foe kicked him in the chest with all the power he had. As the young warrior flew backwards, he managed to land on his feet.

'DO NOT LET HIM WIN. USE ALL YOUR POWER, NOOOW!' The voice cried out in his head.

He still did not know where this voice came from. All he knew was that his sword started to crackle with strange energies. As he stood up, one thing became clear. He cannot let Wingrall walk away from here.

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The young aspirant looked at the traitor. Not with desperation, nor with sadness. But with conviction. They both knew that the next clash was going to determine the battle.

'Alright then,' the cloaked menace said. 'Let us be done with this!'

Wingrall streched out his arm before him. He started to concentrate. He called his strength to him. Suddenly energy started to crackle in his palm, and dark lightning danced on his finger.

'Let the shadow of my soul aid the power of my own! Let it crush my hateful foe and let it bring me what Im owed! MIDNIGHTS LIGHT!'

With the last words of the incantation said, a beam of darkness burst out of his hand. As if the night sky would come to deliver the final blow to his enemy. Still, he knew that his foe could dodge it, but it would exhaust him to do so. If he does, it will be but a strike to bring him down permanently. If he somehow doesn't, well, then he would not be a problem anymore. For he was certain that the young aspirant could not stop his magic.

That was where he miscalculated his foe's strength for the first time.

The young warrior made no effort to get out of the way of the attack. He stared right into it and stood firm. He stretched out his arm before him and let the beam crash into it. The impact pushed him back a few meters, but he stopped it. The wave could not do anything else but to overflow from the unmovable object that was now the warrior.

Wingrall was shocked as he pushed harder and harder. He put all his mind into this attack. But his foe did not waver.

'What?!' he cried out.

'You have counted on everything, Wingrall.' The squire said. 'Your strength. The villages weakness. Our suprise. Everything. Except one thing.' He started to focus. His sword was burning with power in his hand. He decided to use it, but was carefull to do so. 'Of how much I have been holding BACK!!!'

With that, he struck out with his sword. It collided with the beam, and after a brief struggle between the two, the spell shattered! The recoil set Wingrall back with shock. How could his foe achieve something like this?

The betrayed warrior did not give him much time to think, though. Where as the traitor needed a whole incantation for his spell, he only needed one word. Just one.

'Thundercloack!' Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck into him. But it was not hurting him. Instead, it started to whirl around him as an aura of sorts.

He quickly jumped, rushing towards the betrayer with unbelievably fast speed to strike.

Wingrall was a great warrior, so he managed to block the strike. But barely. He lost his balance by the sheer power of the attack.

For the young aspirant, time moved slower. So slow that he got to see his foe's shocked impression perfectly. For a split second, he considered ending him. He could have done so easily. Just for a second.

With his next strike, he pushed the traitor's blade out of the way. His opponent had no time or opportunity to react.

Then he brought his blade overhead, and with a quick and powerful move, he brought it down on his opponent's right arm, severing his shoulder from his body.Wingrall cried out in pain and agony as blood began to flow in mass from where his arm once was. He dropped to his knees, still screaming.The winner of the duel held out his blade, aiming it at the now-armed villain. With an exhale, he let the aura dissipate from around him. The fight was over.

'Yes!' shouted the shattered-handed surviror. 'Good job! I know you could beat him! Now, quickly, finish this so he will be a threat no more.'

The triumphant warrior stood in silence for a moment. He knew that killing Wingrall now would mean that he could not threaten the village or anyone ever again. He knew that after what he did, no one would judge him for it. Still, even after everything that happened today, he could not do it.

'No.' Ha said softly.

'What do you mean, no?' asked the survivor in disbelief. 'He's still a threat, until he's dead! You have to finish it!'

The young warrior looked at his lost brother, strugling with his arm, which was still bleeding. He uttered another spell.

'Anathema!' His sword burst up in flames. He simply put it against Wingrall's wound, who screamed in agony. The smell of burning flesh filled his nose completely, even though it was but a minute until he finished. The wound was burnt shut.

He then turned to the survivor.

'Tell me, what good would killing do? When mercy in this world is already so few.* Would it heal your arm or bring back our friend? No, it would make us no better than him. It would prove that mercilessly killing a helpless foe is the right way of the world. We need to be better than that. Than him.'

He then turned to the defeated. He was still panting from the pain, but he refused to lose consciousness.

'Wingrall. You have committed crimes against our people by conspiring against them and killing our comrade. By the power invested in me by the village, I hereby banish you from now on. You may not set foot or keep contact with anyone from our settlement ever again. Should you return, well, we will have to resort to more permanent solutions. Now go and do not return!'

Every word the judge of the situation said was like a knife in the heart for him. But he had to say it. Wingrall could hardly stand up. He looked at the one who bested him. In his eyes, there was no trace of the brotherhood they once held. Only the hate was there. He then turned around, and slowly, he vanished within the woods. The young warrior looked as he disappeared. Deep down, he still hoped that one day his brother would return to him. To heal their friendship even after this.

How could he have known? How could he hear the screams that were to come? Or feel the heat and smell the burning of the flesh of not one but dozens? How could he have foreseen what is to come?