Don't Call Him That

The next day, on the outskirts of Leinan.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" An arctic voice began. Destructive eyes that could bring down a storm were directed into a piercing glare. Calloused hands, from all of his victorious battles, were holding a piece of crumpled paper. 

Lying in a bloody mess on the floor was a man he once regarded as a comrade, a good friend, and maybe even a brother. One eye was swollen shut and bruised and the other could barely keep itself open from the blood dripping down his forehead. 

"I told you, I was framed!" The man screamed, groaning in pain when it placed too much of a strain on his injured body. He was ambushed on his way back into the city.