Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

It was dusk.

The two men had been fighting for hours, ringing their weapons against each other under the slowly setting sun. Or at least, it had felt like hours; time was strange here, in this land of dreams and shadows. As far as they knew, it had always been dusk.

To anyone watching, it was clear that the taller of the two was winning. Clad in all black, and wielding a spear to match, he swung as though he had only just begun to fight. Each movement was precise, controlled, and powerful, and he pressed the offense relentlessly.

His opponent, by contrast, showed every second of their battle upon his face. The clattering of his tarnished silver armor mingled with his heavy breaths as he struggled to block each of the Black Knight's terrifying swings with his own weapon- a broken sword, the blade snapped off a few inches above the hilt. Despite all this, he somehow seemed to be managing to hold off his opponent's unyielding attack.

But then his foot caught on a patch of uneven ground, throwing off his stance. It was only for a fraction of a second, but that was enough. The Black Knight's spear crashed into the Silver Knight's shoulder, knocking him off his feet and sending him sprawling to the ground in a clatter of metal on stone. "Yield," the Silver Knight forced out immediately, but his opponent - the clear victor - had already halted.

"That was well fought," declared the Black Knight.

The Silver Knight looked up balefully. "Don't lie to me."

A snort. "You of all people should know I would never give you a false compliment. Besides, you didn't let me finish. I was going to say, that was well fought for someone who insists on fighting with a broken sword."

The Silver Knight glanced at his sword. The jagged edge of the break was dull, worn down by time. His eyes closed. "You know why I use this weapon. Why I have to."

"It won't last you forever," warned the Black Knight in a low voice. "You know that."

"Yes," replied the Silver Knight tonelessly. "I know." He flexed his legs, preparing to sit up - then let out a grunt of pain and grabbed his shoulder. Leaking out from under his collar were a few drops of blood.

The Black Knight immediately knelt down to take a closer look at the injury. "What? I didn't hit you that hard... did I?"

"No," the Silver Knight panted, his eyes closed. "Old- old wounds."

The Black Knight sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh."

They sat for several minutes in silence, remembering.