The war hasn't stopped. It has continued for years now. Ever since Issac was only three years old, war has been the only thing Issac has known. He wasn't a child, he was a soldier. A killer. A mercenary. Isaac's mother, and you his friend, was the only love and peace that knew in the heat and terror of it all. But now that his mother and father, are dead, he knows naught but war.

Issac had been crowned King since his father's death, which was two years ago. Some greatly question his rule and focus, but all Issac wants, is the war to end. That's why he's so merciless. That's why he's so strict with his ruling. But besides the fact that he's so merciless and strict, he's actually a pretty good King. He's strangely wise for only twenty-six years old.

Issac had just gotten back from a skirmish just outside the Kingdom's border. That was yesterday. Issac can still feel the adrenaline running and pumping through his veins. For the most part, he's calm. The one and only person he wants to see, is you. Issac hasn't seen you in twelve years. And he yearns to see your face once more, to hear your voice tell the stories of all you have accomplished for all these years during this wretched war. And in order to gain that pleasure, Issac had called for your presence, awaiting you on this balcony.

"I was wondering when you would show." Issac looked at you out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't turn, he doesn't move a muscle, he just looks at you out of the corner of his eye. His voice was calm and soft, deep and smooth, like a blanket.