I once stood in the ruins of a forgotten town, the air thick with dust and echoes of old battles, facing a lone, gaunt figure who had survived every storm that had come before me. We moved in silence, our eyes the only words we shared, the fight was not of swords but of will, and in that moment the world narrowed to the space between us. We both knew that the hardest part wasn’t the clash of steel but the quiet acceptance that some scars can never be fully healed. The battle ended with a simple nod, and we each walked away, lighter than when we entered.