Arthas & Miura
Miura
Arthas, have you ever thought about how the memory of a battlefield lingers, shaping a person long after the dust has settled?
Arthas
Yes, the echoes of that day still cling to my thoughts. Even after the dust has settled, the battlefield shapes the man I become.
Miura
It’s strange how a single moment can echo long after the last soldier has fallen. The battlefield becomes a quiet mentor, telling us which parts of ourselves we keep and which we must leave behind. And yet, we return to it in our thoughts, as if the ground itself is still vibrating beneath our feet.
Arthas
The ground still hums with the weight of that day. I feel its pulse whenever I close my eyes, a harsh reminder of what I am and what I might still be. The battlefield taught me to keep the iron in my soul, but also that even iron can rust. I have no choice but to listen, then decide what to carry forward.
Miura
I hear that pulse in your silence, the iron that still hums beneath your ribs. Remember, even the strongest steel can be softened by time and patience; you’re not bound to keep every scar. Let the echoes guide you, but choose which echoes to carry forward, like a historian selecting the most telling artifacts.
Arthas
I hear that pulse, and it rings true. I can’t deny the weight of those scars, but I’ve learned to weigh each one. Some stay to remind me, some I let fade. It’s a balance I keep, even if it’s a hard one to maintain.