They used to call us balance.

  Two blades. Two brothers.

  Souls intertwined since birth.

  We weren’t born great.

  We weren’t chosen.

  We had nothing—except each other.

  Still, our names carved themselves into history.

  So how?

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  How did it come to this?

  When did the path split beneath our feet?

  Brother… what was it all for, if—

  If you’re not here to see it?

  If my blade… bears your blood?

  They sing of my victories now.

  Call me a hero.

  Use my battles as lessons in classrooms and barracks.

  They speak and speak…

  As if you never existed.

  As if your name meant nothing.

  Is this what you wanted, brother?

  Sometimes… I wonder if you planned it all this way.

  If so—

  You forgot the most important part.

  I can’t forget.

  I could never forget.

  I won’t.

  I still see you in every shadow.

  I still hear your voice when the wind cuts deep.

  And in every victory they celebrate…

  I still wonder if it should have been yours.