The last figure was a man who held himself as if he was greater than life. Who’s confidence would overshadow any faults he held. The armor, the very same armor he wore on the battlefield that fateful day. Who’s short locks would occasionally swing into his eye, causing him to brush them aside. The trimmed beard, so iconic and legendary to the man who wore it. Who’s eyes showed more love as they stared at me. Not even the smile he had matched up to the love in his eyes.