Out of two, one was left
To remain torn and bereft,
The price of an ended life,
Is the beginning of strife.

For so long he suffered and bled,
Wishing to have fallen instead.
Knowing only sorrow and regret,
Unable to forget.

Wandering countless nights cold,
Embraced in misery's hold,
It was himself he hated
As for death he waited.

But what he did not know,
Was that wherever he'd go,
Was one watching in vain,
And sharing the pain.

The soul of the fallen brother,
Keeping watch over the other,
A shared wish to atone,
Together yet alone.

So suffered this tragic pair,
Down this path they share,
Until the Master of Light,
Felt pity for their plight.

He took the broken soul
And shaped a new whole,
Now in the form of a beast great,
Set on the path of a new fate.

The Master, now in disguise,
The last of many lies,
Told the wanderer of a beast,
Hiding in a temple to the East.

The wanderer paid little heed,
It would be just another deed,
A chance to die,
Was something he wouldn't deny.

With a strange feeling in his heart,
The hunt would now start.
With luck his life would end,
And his soul he could mend.

So the beast he found,
And on sacred ground
The battle began,
Until twin rivers crimson ran.

As they both fell,
The beast began to tell,
How his brother had to suffer
Because he wasn't tougher.

The wanderer then knew,
Just who he had slew,
And began to smile
As he recognized the trial.

As the two were dying,
Side by side lying,
The brothers were grinning
Like they did in the beginning.

Making a vow with their final breath,
To stand together even in death,
The two found their peace
In their souls' final release.