Atop a mountain of corpses kneeled a man, covered head to toe in blood, He was breathing heavily, blood ran down his shoulder where a large wound lay, yet he ignored the pain and merely gazed at the field around him.

The land around him was covered in stains of war, thousands of corpses littered the ground, ravens flew over the battlefield gnawing on corpses, they tended to group around the more heavily wounded ones. Hearing a moan, the man turned around. There, behind him was a knight with his helmet off to the side as he gasped for breath, by the wound in his gut, it seemed he would die a slow death. dragging himself to his feet he got up and slowly walked over to the knight. When the knight saw him, he raised his arm slightly in a pleading gesture.

"Help... Help me.... please!" the knight begged in a rasping voice.

However, the man paid him no heed, he stood above him and raised his sword.

"No... No..." screamed the knight before the sword plunged through his throat ending his life.

Letting out a long sigh. the man kneeled on the ground next to the knight. Lifting his sword and smashing the hilt into the ground, planting it firmly, he gazed upwards at the setting sun.

"God forgive me," he muttered.

Before falling on his sword, the blade piercing his chest.

High above in the sky where no one could see, a pair of eyes watched silently.