Lucius looked down at the body of the bandit leader that had nearly beat him to death. By all rights, he should be unable to stand, but he was willed to move by his own anger and stubbornness to have the last laugh at the man who laughed at him throughout the fight.
He could not understand what the bandit thought was so great. It was just a fight after all. He probably had many, just like Lucius. What enjoyment was there in fighting? It was only a means to an end and when it was over, only one of them was left living. So what was the point?
'To protect.' A warm voice echoed in his head for a moment. It felt comforting and warm.
Then like a dark whisper a different voice came through, 'To prove your strength.'
