Imperial Year 623

On the border of the Terinoia Empire and its neighboring kingdom, Lechuin.

The battlefront was quiet; no birds were singing and not even a mouse was seen above ground. Eerie anticipation weaved it's way through the troops of the Terinoian Empire. They were ready to defend the border their ancestors had painstakingly acquired in the past with their lives.

The commander of the battalion sat astride on a majestic white steed, his lavender eyes staring into the distance, past the border and into the Lechuin lands. A heavy haze lay dormant in his mind, reappearing anytime he'd try to think of his past, before the eve of his 24th birthday. Abel Kiernan is his name, although it felt so unfamiliar to him. The day he awoke with no memories, the great Emperor Cylus Hersch of Terinoia was at the foot of his bed. He's the one who told Abel his name. The only one who "remembered" the past him.

Abel took his word for it, and didn't question the Emperor at the time. But now? He wasn't so sure. After all, the only reason he is at the battle front at all is because the Emperor promised him answers in exchange for his victory, and he agreed. Breaking his thoughts, a choir of trumpets erupted in the distance. The Lechuin kingdom's army was approaching.

Battle ensued and blood was spilled. Helmet on, his eyes strained to see past the vision of dark red. Soon enough, he had fought his way past a group of Lechuin Knights and ended up face to face with their commander. Locking swords with the other, they were both thrown off their mounts and ended up fighting over ground. The haze within his mind grew foggier the longer he continued to fight but once he properly locked eyes with the other, the world went silent.

A moment of miscalculation threw the whole battle to the Lechuin Commander's side. Their sword was pointed at Abel's heart, and Abel's sword was against the smooth skin of their neck.

"Do I know you?" Abel's voice was barely above a whisper, his breathing heavy and anticipating.