- Flags of Patriotism

The Land of Mirabar was a proud nation of fighting forces and lands of cities and palaces. In fact, almost every noble in the land who didn't live in some form of city lived in a small palace made of stone and hardwood. It was a land of great importance on the Eastern Coast, it boasted a mighty naval fleet and an excellent military.

But what many marveled at was the cities, cities like its capital that ran streets made of polished stone, allies holding the darkness of shadows, and the mighty palace of all palaces. Even Rovasta could not compare with its mountain palace in the north of their lands.

No, this palace was made of metal and stone, standing as a pillar that scraped against the sky, like a shimmering diamond to the sun as it rose from beyond the mountains and into the world of mist and clouds.

This palace was like a diamond in the sand, and the city was a golden jewel among the land. It was beautiful to all those who laid eyes on it, and with the might of their military and wealth of their trade, they were kings amongst kings.

But the Golden age for this land of diamonds and jewels was slowly coming to an end. With the king on his throne dying of his age, his two sons would soon succeed him. However, after one fell out of grace, the other was made to rule the land for all its glory, all its wealth, and all its power.

He was not yet crowded, for he was still mighty, but he was not yet the mightiest for the dying king had foreseen a civil war that would come at the hands of his two sons. Hands he loved as children and would die if he ever saw them fight.

Thus, he opted for a solution. One had a child, the other did not. If he could have the child married to their ally, their neighbor and their friend, then the civil war would die before it ever began.

It would provide strength and power, security and control. Tw mighty kingdoms united by marriage and bond, it was set to be the greatest alliance and unity the land had ever seen.

But then something happened. One day the Old king's granddaughter came to him and cried at his feet, sobbing an endless stream of tears that flowed like rivers in his dry land. She did not want to marry; she did not want to be handed to another man whom she did not love only to watch as that same man took the throne her father would one day sit on.

It killed her inside to imagine such a thing, and as the Old king watched his granddaughter hollow herself out of feeling and emotions, he was left with no choice. He called off the wedding with his own word and caused the greatest upheaval in the history of the content.

He loved his granddaughter, and if the laws of tradition did not forbid him, he would have given her the throne and knighted her father's successor.

But alas, he could not, and was thus forced to spend his days resting in bed as his mind wandered, hoping, praying that what he knew would come to pass, would die before it ever caught breath. It was a small ray of hope, a small glimpse of the gods grace in him that kept him going, kept him living though his many years of old age until the day his help would arrive. He never gave up.

And one day he told his son to come to him, as he knelt down to the ground, and whispered in his ears.

"One day, there will come a Knight braver and greater than the world can handle. This Knight will walk in the shadows but not fear the sun. They will call forth mighty warriors to their side and rally soldiers to their cause. The One above them all."

The King was on his last breath, the day would soon come when he would slip from life's grasp and fall to death, and he would welcome that life of peace and tranquility. He had lived long enough, and he never wanted to be greedy.

'But just a little longer. Just a little…longer…'

Just a little longer.

That same Son repeated those words in his head often, as the days rolled past, and the sun set beyond the horizon. His home had been cursed since the day he lost his wife. Since the day he lost his Red Rose.

"One day…"

His father's head echoed in his as he spoke, and it was as if their voices joined together as the sun rose beyond the horizon of buildings. Beyond the distant mountains and across the land.

Across the horizon.

"...There will come a Knight braver and greater than the world can handle. This Knight will walk in the shadows but not fear the sun. They will call forth mighty warriors to their side and rally soldiers to their cause…. The One above them all."

He placed a hand on the window, letting the cool outside air seep into his skin as his flesh became hot with a sense of fear and wonder. His mind had often turned over that phrase, that stupid little myth his father had spun years before.

So now he repeated it once more.

Only this time, he continued where his father left off, as the rest of the tale had not yet been told.

"They will rise from the ashes, the hands of death, bringing with them the Reaper as they walk through the lands of blood and take their final breath. They will consume the world in glory and mark the end of this story…"

He took his hand away from the glass and caught a glimpse at the reflection in the window, the reflection of a picture frame holding a woman dressed in red. He closed his eyes, and pictured the tale again, as it was written on the walls of the catacombs he used to run down.

"They will be the Fire that chases away the Night."

He turned to leave the room, no longer interested in the myth written on the walls of the catacombs, a myth his father told him since he was a child and was the last thing his father said to him before he went mute. He no longer spoke, he no longer said a word, and many were questioning whether his sons should take the throne.

Like his father, he wasn't greedy. He didn't believe in myths or legends, only the world that existed around him. Reality.

But even he begged the gods for just a little more time. Just a little more time.

So that his Knight would appear and save this kingdom for the depths of Civil War. Just a little more time. Just a little more time.

'My Shadow Fire.'

I found you.

***

Chris was busy within his own world to notice anything odd out of the normal, his eyes snaking across the steel blade and its golden hilt. The hilt itself must have been normal iron painted gold, but the beauty of the design told a different story, and the blacksmith's words were enough to draw in a crowd of nobles who eyed his blades of wonder and glory.

They certainly were beautiful and if Chris went a few days without eating he might be able to buy just one of the blades. Just one.

But then a hand came down on his shoulder, and just as the other Noblemen, knights and the rich were about to ask him to leave - they couldn't be seen buying form the same lot as a peasant boy - Lia pulled him away with a firm hand and a grasp that screamed of power and strength.

He was too busy getting mad at her to realize that if she squeezed just a little harder, he might have been missing a shoulder for the rest of his life.

"What's your problem?! I was busy - hey!"

Lia didn't give Chris a chance to explain himself as she stuffed the bag of gold in his hands and shoved the basket full of radishes and other small vegetables that she had to forcefully buy from the other Vendors. It was causing her a headache.

"You're buying the rest."

"What? You can't just hand this to me and force me to do your job-"

"Can it Chris. You never do any of the shopping and just gawk at all the fancy stuff you find. That or a girl passing by, so do your job today please."

Chris frowned as Lia turned her back to him, walking off as he hurriedly tried to keep up with her. He certainly didn't want to go shopping because he was terrible with money - as seen with his lavish spending - but he was more worried about why Lia was so cut off.

He hadn't known her for long, but in the time, he had her image had been burned into his mind, the happy and caring person that she was could never be like this. She was upset, and despite his hatred for shopping, he took her by the hand and turned her around quickly.

"What?"

"Is something bothering you?"

Lia frowned, her face already contorted in anger from the Vendors now found a new shade of frustration. A shade that almost made Chris was to hide in the shadows or under a vendor's table.

"...There's nothing bothering me, Chris. I'm just a little tired. Bad dreams."

Chis hesitated as he watched her rub her fingers over her eyes, clearly lacking in sleep but also in mental strength. He was worried, but he knew better than to ask questions that would only rile her up even more. So, with a watchful eye he told her to meet by the fountain in an hour and he would be done with the shopping. His dreams of spending could wait, his friend needed a break.

But even as Chris left and her duty was forfeited, Lia did not feel any happier. She had been in this position before, when he couldn't control a moment of her life, when she existed only under the hand of someone more powerful, someone stronger.

It was why she didn't hesitate in taking Cain's hand, because she never wanted to feel that powerless again, but still…

'These moments will always exist Lia, you just have to live with them.'

'Just because they do exist doesn't mean that I will let them. I will cut them off before they can grow.'

She shifted her way through the cross, hoping to lose whoever she knew was following her in the mesh of people. She had sensed it a while back, the moment she took Chris' hand she was being watched. It was like a silent shadow that followed her and only when she turned around to grab Chris did shenotice the small white suit in the distance.

It was a miracle that these people weren't crowding around those men or waving in awe - after all they were noble Knights. The highest of all Knights next to the Black in military authority. Yet they shifted through the crowds so easily, almost like they parted as he passed without causing too much attention.

This was power. Being able to impose fear and respect with every step, yet usher silence with every breath. If this was what it was like to be a Knight under the Duke, Lia wanted none of it. She wanted to be loved, not feared.

Power could come later, right now he just wanted to enjoy the small moments in life before she was forced to eventually rip them from others.

'To take the life of another is to take all that is human about yourself.'

Cain's words were true in far more ways than Lia would ever understand or grasp as she shifted through the crowd, stress bolting through her light lighting as she pushed her way past until finally, she stood before a large stable off to the corner of the square.

Closed. It was perfect.

She ducked inside quickly just as the crowd shifted past the door, the old wood leaving small holes of sunlight pouring through in golden rays as the dust shifted in the air. Lia could hear the horses patting the ground with their feet as they ate, her body sliding down to the ground as her back leaned against the door frame.

Then, like the unexpected sound of Cain's voice in her head, Lia felt a sudden spike in her senses and suddenly she didn't want to open her eyes.

"You're still running from us. You've yet to answer."

Lia groaned and halfway though it became a yell as she picked up the nearest object - a horseshoe - and threw it as fast as she could toward the white suited man. He dodged it easily, almost like it was an arrow flying in slow motion.

"It's only been a day! Can't you people leave me alone?!"

"The Duke always gets his answers within the hour. You've made him wait too long."

"Well, doesn't that say something? Why can't I just be left in peace."

Lia slammed her head on the back of the door, still on her butt as she slowly shifted to the ground. She wanted to crawl into a shadow and hide in the darkness, but she wondered if the Duke owned even that? It wouldn't surprise her.

The Knight looked her over, eyeing her exhausted figure and closely agitated appearance he thought it best not to approach her. He kept silent, he waited and watched, his heart beating as one with hers. He understood her more than she realized.

"Peace is given to the weak. You're strong, and like the strong we are loathed and often the target of jealousy."

Lia opened her eyes and peered over her arm that had been covering her face, past the dust and through the stable, until she found the Knight standing amongst the horses. He brushed one's mane down slightly, slowly, and ever so carefully that the horse practically melted in his arms.

She had never seen someone so peaceful before, yet so sad.

"You sound like someone I know."

"That's good. Maybe they can teach you more than I can."

The man sympathized with her, for he too knew what it meant to have eyes on his back hour after hour, day by day only for him to turn around and find nothing but his friends and comrades. Everyone watched him, everyone was afraid of him.

In many ways he wanted peace too.

The man approached as Lia skillfully sat up, her eyes never leaving the man or his suit, which she now realized was a pale gray rather than a bright white. Had she been seeing things? Or had there been a different Knight chasing her though the streets?

"Here, take this. It might bring you some peace."

Lia didn't even realize he had handed her something, nor had she realized she had taken it. The small piece of paper rested, almost floating in her hand like it was carried by the wind as she looked between it and the Knight that stood loomed over her. The man didn't have the same appearance as a Knight, he looked more robust. Like a woodsman turned city man.

He looked more human.

"And what's this?"

The man smiled, his voice like a farmer's as he called his children to dinner, ringing the porch bell that would echo across his lands and through the ears of his family.

"A chance. See for yourself what this little job of the Duke's will include, then decide."

"...and will he listen?"

The man nodded his head, slowly so that Lia could catch every movement of his neck as his muscles rippled under his skin like a damn about to burst with strength. He was powerful, and she could sense it.

She wanted to believe him, he wanted to believe that this was some hope she could grasp and finally be at peace with the Duke. To be able to live her life in peace away from the politics of Nobles and their many schemes. It would be risky…

…but it was worth a shot.

Finally, after minutes of silence spread between them, Lia stood and opened the door of the stable just enough for the golden sunlight to spill across her face, her crimson eyes glowing against the sun. The crowds were still shifting down the street, and soon Lia would be with them, disappearing in the mesh of people, forgotten.

"Thank you."

It was barely a whisper, barely a sound but it traveled across the bounds of sound and space, echoing through the man's ears as he was lost within the sight before him.

A beautiful woman whose warm and tan skin glowed in the sunlight as her figure stood against this city of gold like an ember to a flame. He would remember those eyes, as he would remember her face.

The feeling of his heart pounding in his chest.

She looked like an angel, with all the chilling charm of a devil.

Then she was gone, vanishing into thin air like the darkness at dawn.