"It was night. The world was dimly illuminated by the sun reflected off the full moon's high in the sky. The two rose and fell opposite of each other.
In a field down below, a raging battle took place, there were two opposing forces fighting a meaningless battle and meaninglessly losing lives. The soldiers on both sides felt the charade had gone on long enough but refused to surrender.
In the center of that battle, two soldiers faced each other. Both trying to appear unhurt and full of vitality, they both knew the other was lying, was exhausted, was hurt. One soldier was a renowned figure in the Keira Empire, the other was a renowned figure in the Lee Empire. The two wanted to stop fighting and just go home, see their families, and retire to spend their days in comfort.
Keira's hero wore armor that was once dark as night, now it was merely a canvas painted red. Lee's hero wore armor that was once gray as ash, now it was merely a canvas painted red. Both gripped their swords with both hands, stared each other down, and waited. They waited for the other to move, it seemed as if they were locked in an eternal stalemate, or perhaps waiting for an artist to finish their canvas.
Soldiers rose and fell all around them as they continued their own stagnant battle, nobody dared go near the statues as if it were taboo. Keira's hero was thinking about what he'd do once he returned home, as was Lee's hero. Whichever returned, would receive a lacking gift from the emperor then be sentenced to death a short few months later, this much was certain. After all, who lets a higher power exist in their own empire?
Keira's hero spoke, his voice was a little shaky and hoarse. "Withdraw. We will both walk. We will both live. We will both raise our children with our own hands."
Lee's hero spoke, his voice much the same. "We will not surrender, and I presume neither will you. We both walk, neither surrendering, becoming criminals."
Keira's hero nodded, an odd expression of mitigation appeared on his face. Lee's hero was much the same. They both slowly sheathed their swords and turned around. The soldiers watched and followed their lead, all sheathing their swords, some looked vexed, some alleviated, some blank and confused. Both hero's of clashing empires had just made a… truce?
The hero's conversed with their troops and pleaded with them to cease the fruitless massacre, the other commanders were all in disagreement, claiming they were close to victory, all they needed was a small push. And so, both hero's walked out, they met on the battlefield once again, walked up to each other, turned and faced their men, and drove their swords into the ground.
Neither wished to fight. The opposing armies disregarded their hero's orders and continued the fight. The hero's then left their swords and walked away, both walked towards a moon.
The empires of Keira and Lee both died that night, both armies fell with only one remaining on each side who were deserters.
The Fallen Hero of Keira, Kuragi and his family were never seen after that day again.
The Fallen Hero of Lee, Nyx and his family were never seen after than day again."
A man who seemed to be about 40 years old leaned back and relaxed in his wooden rocking chair, a pale smile appeared on his face. He was well built, had black hair and blue eyes, there was an aura about him that demanded respect and admiration as if he were a venerable man. In the man's lap, asleep, was a little boy who seemed to be 5 or 6 years old. He had the same color hair but had brown eyes. Both of them wore beautiful, comfortable silk clothes. The boy wore a peaceful expression and a small smile on his naive face. The man carried to boy to his bed and tucked him in.
"Good night, Zachary. Sleep well."
At the same time, another boy was being told the same story, this boy was in a dark building that was very cold. This time a caring, kind dad wasn't telling the story, it was being told by a girl with silver hair that ran halfway down her back, she had beautiful green eyes, and a pretty face despite it being haggard and dirtied. The girl was no older than 18 but seemed as frail and sickly as an 81 year old. She was caressing her brother who looked no older than 4 but was just as frail and sickly. He had similar silver hair than ran just past the boys neck, he had the same green eyes. Both of them were wearing shabby, dirty clothes that were riddled with holes.
The girl hugged the boy a little tighter and kissed his forehead.
"Good night, Leto. Sleep well."