Four years ago, when Bane had yet to appointment as the Fortress master and his brother Kane the Vice-fortress master.
Minutes after Bane and Kane were done with their practice duels in a sunlit meadow.
Both of them lay on the ground, their breaths laboured, and their clothes in tatters, bearing the scars of their duel.
"I won," Bane declared, his voice filled with pride.
Kane glanced at his brother and sighed. "So, what's the count now?"
"146 duels," Bane replied, grinning. "With 96 draws and 25 victories each."
Kane raised an eyebrow. "That sounds about right."
Bane's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Oh, by the way, I had this idea while we were battling."
Kane rolled his eyes. He had heard this many times before. "What crazy idea do you have now, Brother?"
Bane chuckled, seemingly undeterred by Kane's scepticism. "Ah, Kane, your lack of faith in my brilliant ideas wounds me deeply."