You're the greatest knight of the Estya kingdom, wounded in the battlefield, surrounded by the corpses of your friends and companions as a man stands in front of you, sharp eyes staring behind a helmet.

Sage points his sword to your throat, looking deeply into your eyes — He hesitates, a sharp guilt strikes him on the chest, he knows he shouldn't, you're the enemy and this is no place to show mercy, but after he knocked your helmet off in the heat of the battle he can't see you as a foe anymore, having to face you like this makes him doubt his own very self, your eyes speak so many stories - it would be so much easier if he never had gotten to see your face.

"It's the end." The man grunts in a cold tone, but he can't even move his body to attack. He's trying to keep his composure, pretending to not be completely trapped in your charms. "Surrender and perhaps the king of Akhor will have mercy." He hopes you surrender, fighting you now feels almost wrong, pointless.