Foolish Knight

How does it transpire that one encounters an individual whom, at first glance, appears naught but a stranger—a mere blip on the vast radar of one's life—only to swiftly transform into an integral essence within the tapestry of existence? This enigmatic phenomenon defies rational comprehension and deftly evades the grasp of our finite understanding. For some, such an occurrence might evoke fond reminiscences; however, for me, it assumes a lamentable hue. Time was when I reveled in the felicity of acquainting her as a friend, but now, two years hence, I find myself ensnared in a relentless intertwining of my contemplative currents with the resplendent cascade of her golden tresses. The very air I breathe, I perceive it as the vital essence required to sustain her ethereal being, while every crestfallen moment of hers compels me to yearn for naught else but to enfold her delicate frame within the sanctuary of my arms. To stand firmly on my feet, to be an unwavering pillar of support for her fragile soul, such are the aspirations that reverberate within me. Alas, these thoughts and emotions, akin to a phantasmagoric reverie, elude the grasp of mortal hands, akin to a futile attempt to hold ethereal light within one's finite palm. Light, resplendent and effulgent, possesses an allure unparalleled, radiating power and beauty, yet it eludes the touch of any mere mortal.

A tempestuous trepidation assails my heart as I behold her countenance, for today she embarks upon a journey to a distant realm—so remote, in fact, that even a man fiercely tethered to his homeland, as I am, cannot traverse its expansive boundaries in pursuit. Not that I lack the conviction that she is deserving of such an ardorous pursuit, for her worth surpasses quantification and defies all comparisons; it resides solely within the sanctuary of my heart. A man may be bestowed with power, wealth, or even fame, yet should one demand the forfeiture of the love I harbor for her—a love that shall forever remain unrequited—I would steadfastly refuse such an exchange. I care not for the disapproving appellations hurled at love, labeling it a folly of the mind, for in my eyes, it assumes the form of a celestial symphony—resplendent and transcendent. Like shimmering gems adorning the nocturnal expanse, the songs of the stars resound eternally, forever distant, ever unattainable to one another, yet their intrinsic beauty permeates all realms, transcending distance itself. Similarly, my love for her bears semblance to this cosmic melody; I could traverse the barren expanse of life without her physical presence, and still, the fervor of my affection shall eternally persist.

Why, my dearest, do you harbor intentions to depart from this realm? Does it not meet your desires? If such be the case, I shall fashion for you an impregnable fortress. I shall sculpt majestic mountains, conjure forth shimmering lakes and babbling streams, and summon the heavens to radiate with unparalleled luminosity. I would go to such lengths, if it meant you would choose to remain here. I yearn to proclaim these sentiments with such resounding fervor that even she, who remains oblivious to my inner turmoil, shall hear their echoes. Alas, such actions would yield naught but resentment and sorrow, for I, a humble knight, possess a love that pales in insignificance compared to hers, a princess. What purpose does my love serve for a woman destined to ascend the throne of her own kingdom? What dangers may I shield her from, when she commands the defenses and armaments of an entire realm? Why would she embrace my love when she can lay claim to a bounty surpassing my humble offerings, even if I were to bestow upon her the entirety of my being? Is my life rendered worthless in her presence? Must I barter my soul with nefarious forces to secure her affections? I would embark upon such a transaction without hesitation, if it meant that her love would be mine. Yet, would her happiness be assured? Would my actions only inflict greater wounds upon her? I would rather abstain from such a course, for if she finds joy, then I too shall find solace. Even if I am unable to possess her heart, I shall bask in the radiance of her smiles and revel in the melodic symphony of her laughter.

"My loyal knight," she beckons to me, her voice filled with grace, "you stand ever steadfast on this day. I have heard whispers that you wish to serve me even in the realm that lies beyond. Do you not yearn to stay here, upon the lands of your forefathers, where they valiantly fought and bled for Uralot, the kingdom adorned with golden splendor? Do you truly desire to accompany me to a realm cloaked in nothingness and strife, to face the relentless tides of chaos and the unknown that awaits us tomorrow? Do you sincerely wish to forsake all hopes of returning home, for the sake of my presence?"

"My lady, who dwells in the realm of distant dreams, your gaze bestows upon this world a utopia, as your eyes shimmer with the radiance of newly born stars. In your gaze, I behold all that I cherish, all that I long for, and all that I desire above all else. If the invocation of sadness looms near you, akin to monsters rising from the depths, I shall banish them. I shall repel them with unwavering strength and shatter them upon the shores of the island of my resolve. I shall employ every means necessary to ensure your happiness and well-being, so that no one dare influence your heart, causing it to fracture or break. Those who dare inflict harm upon you shall meet their own demise, be it by the blade of my sword or the might of my bare hands. None shall live who dare hurt you. I had yearned to depart from these lands and come to your side, but my lady, my duty anchors me here. Love, indeed, becomes the death knell of duty. To forsake my obligations would bring dishonor upon all who know me. It would be an eternal yet ever-present shame that would befall me. Thus, I remain rooted upon this land, yet my heart yearns to be in the presence of the luminous light that emanates from your eyes, dispelling the glistening tears that form upon your cheeks. I desire naught but to fulfill your wishes, my lady."

Those were the words I longed to utter, yet the weight of the sky pales in comparison to the burden such words would carry. And so, all I spoke were the words expected of me.

"No, princess, such whispers are nothing but baseless rumors. Words devoid of truth and substance, released into the wind so that it may carry their tainted essence upon its gusts. I would never entertain the thought of such an act, for to depart with the princess would be an act of treason against the king. As a knight, I am bound by my sacred duty to protect my king. It would be an honor to serve as your guardian, but such decisions lie in the hands of those higher than myself."

"I understand," she replied, her voice tinged with a touch of sadness. "We have known each other since the day you joined the royal guard. You have always been like a warm embrace, akin to fresh water that refreshes after being cooled in ice pits. I shall forever hold cherished memories of you, for even if I cannot openly declare it, I consider you a dear friend. Such praise I shall forever bestow upon you." Her smile radiated brighter than the sun itself as she prepared to venture into the realm of strife, where wars would cease and peace would reclaim its rightful place. Her mere presence was a beacon of tranquility, bestowed upon her by the benevolent goddess who blessed her with beauty and a compassionate heart. She was a woman of unparalleled splendor, reigning upon the thrones of kings.

In the days and nights that unfold, my thoughts are consumed by her—her golden locks, her fair complexion, her eyes as green as emerald, and her lips full and enticing. I can think of nothing else but the echoes of her laughter, the warmth of her kind heart. Regret engulfs me as I dwell upon these thoughts, realizing that out of my own foolishness, I failed to seize the opportunity and confess my feelings to her. Even if the risk was the loss of my own life, a fate that the king might have deemed fitting, I hold no fear for such a trivial matter as death. I would willingly surrender my life for her. No, the true fear that haunts me is the fear of rejection, the dread of her no longer looking upon me with affection, but rather as a man who has betrayed her trust—a knight who sought to claim the treasure for himself, neglecting his solemn duty. Such a failure I appear to be. A life confined to the dungeons would not be so grievous if only the princess would never set foot in such a place.

In the months that followed her departure, the chill of emptiness permeated every aspect of my existence. My heart yearned to forsake all obligations and embark on a relentless pursuit of her. Alas, such yearnings are but whimsical fantasies, for I lack the means to traverse the realms of scorching sun, to tread upon the icy lands of Horendale, or to sail across the treacherous nine seas. Only a king, blessed by the gods and wielding their divine favor, could undertake such vast journeys.

I find myself in need of something coveted by all men, yet it holds no true desire within me. It is merely a means to an end, a necessity to reach the object of my deepest longing. Power, to me, is nothing more than a bridge that will enable me to cross into the realm of strife. Even then, without the blessings bestowed by foreign gods, I would not even be able to draw breath in those lands. Only the native inhabitants, granted the gift of life by the pagan deities that reign there, can endure. As a foreigner in those lands, I would be a mere stranger, bereft of blessings and devoid of mercy.

With these thoughts coursing through my being and my determination renewed to do anything in order to be reunited with her, I find myself in need of a power that the gods do not offer—or perhaps, a power they cannot grant at all.

Few are aware of this hidden truth: the path to power often lies in forging alliances with those who already wield it. I find myself privy to such knowledge, for I am a knight of the royal guard, having devoted seven years to the service of the king, and an additional two as a protector of the blessed Uralon family. Throughout my years, I have encountered men who, though lacking power themselves, have established connections with those who possess it. One such individual who comes to mind is a man known as the Warlock.

The Warlock, a name whispered in hushed tones, is said to hold mystical prowess beyond mortal comprehension. Legends speak of his ability to harness arcane energies, to shape the fabric of reality itself. While his powers may evoke fear and trepidation, there are whispers that he is not solely driven by malevolence. Some say he can be bargained with, that he might bestow his esoteric knowledge upon those who seek it.

It is through such encounters, with those who walk the delicate line between darkness and enlightenment, that I believe I may find the means to obtain the power I so desperately seek. The Warlock's enigmatic presence beckons to me, a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. To tread upon this path is not without its perils, for delving into the realm of forbidden arts can corrupt the very essence of one's being. Yet, driven by my unwavering devotion and fueled by my yearning heart, I am prepared to risk all in pursuit of the power that will reunite me with her, my beloved princess.I venture forth, guided by a resolute determination to seek out the Warlock, for he holds the key to unlocking the realm of arcane might. Through whispered tales and clandestine meetings, I gather scraps of information that

lead me closer to his elusive presence. The path is treacherous, winding through hidden alleys and forbidden realms, but my unwavering resolve pushes me forward.

Finally, I stand before the ancient door that guards the Warlock's lair. Its weathered wood exudes an aura of mystique, adorned with intricate symbols of forgotten languages. With a deep breath, I summon the courage to knock, the sound echoing through the silent abyss.

The door creaks open, revealing a dimly lit chamber where shadows dance with ethereal grace. In the center stands the enigmatic figure of the Warlock, cloaked in darkness, his eyes shimmering with an otherworldly glow. A gust of wind rustles the pages of ancient tomes that surround him, filled with the wisdom and secrets of ages past.

With caution and reverence, I approach the Warlock, my voice trembling as I speak, "O, powerful sorcerer, I seek your guidance and aid. I am but a humble knight, bound by duty and love, yearning for the strength to traverse the realms and reunite with my beloved princess. Will you grant me your knowledge? Will you empower me with the forces that lie beyond mortal comprehension?"

The Warlock cast his gaze upon my countenance, and to my astonishment, instead of unleashing his powers upon me, he unleashed laughter. "You, my friend, are nothing but a fool," he uttered with a mocking tone, "your foolishness knows no boundaries. Your mind is hollow, filled with naught but empty air. Even if your lungs were to collapse, you would possess enough breath to sustain you for days. Your desire for power is born out of a foolish cause, driven by unrequited love for someone you can never attain. Why would she ever choose you? Do you believe yourself to be a knight from fables, that she will welcome you, embracing your love and bearing your children?" He scoffed with disdain, his voice resounding with scorn.

Upon hearing his words, a tempest of emotions surged within me. Hatred and anger welled up, fueled by his contemptuous remarks. He spoke of my love as if it were an illusion, dismissing it as nothing more than a fleeting boy's dream. But no, it was not so. I refused to surrender until the woman I yearned for rested within my arms. I vowed to bestow upon her a happiness unmatched by any other, for I would give her not only my heart and love but also the very essence of my being, my soul itself.

"Hear me, O Warlock! Your words hold as much falsehood as the demons you serve," I retorted, my voice infused with conviction. "My love is true and steadfast. With time, it shall bear the sweetest fruit. Before our paths converged, I had lost all hope, believing I would never ascend the mountain before me. Yet now, in your presence, I perceive a glimmer of possibility. With the powers you possess, I may acquire the strength needed to reach her, to sprout wings and soar towards that distant mountain, scaling its heights to touch the heavens themselves. I long to behold her emerald eyes, to bask in the radiance of her smile. I am willing to sacrifice anything and everything. I shall offer you what no other would dare to give—a piece of my very essence, surrendering myself so wholly that I become a mere I vessel. For without the woman I love, my soul is but a hollow shell!"

"Though I may dabble in infernal dealings, I am a proponent of fair exchange," the warlock replied, his tone veering towards neutrality. "As foolish as you may be to offer your soul in its entirety, I shall not take it whole. In return for the power to stride beneath the scorching sun and forsake the need for sustenance, I shall claim a mere fraction—a tenth—of your soul. A fraction, a fragment, a fraction of the greater whole. Do you accept?"

With his words, the warlock's countenance revealed a glint of greed, perhaps enticed by the notion of claiming my mortal soul. Trembling from the tumultuous thoughts swirling within my mind, I mustered the courage to respond. The power offered brought me one step closer to reaching the woman I cherished, one step closer to achieving all that mattered to me.

"I accept, but I beseech you to reveal what has stirred this change of heart within you, akin to a sultan switching consorts," I queried, my voice laden with unease. The wild musings within me clamored for understanding.

"Why do you concern yourself with my change of heart?" the warlock retorted, amusement tinting his words. "As I see, you have accepted my offer without a moment's hesitation. Nevertheless, I shall indulge your curiosity. It brings me great amusement, for you, the foolish Knight, are a testament to the folly love engenders. Love makes fools of us all, but in your case, it has fashioned an even grander fool. There is naught I relish more than witnessing the sufferings of foolish men, for by their own hands, they stumble into the abyss. It is their choices that lead them astray, their negligence to think that begets unending pain and perils that besiege the very core of their hearts. You accuse me of worshipping demons, yet once your journey concludes, you shall become one. For what is a man who pursues naught but his base desires, but a demon encased in mortal flesh?"

"I am no demon, nor shall I become one" I declared fervently, my voice resolute. "I am but a lover, guided by a steadfast purpose. Besides, what value does my soul possess compared to the magnitude of true love? You claim that my beloved will not reciprocate my affection, but it matters not. I shall never relinquish my pursuit. Once again, I shall reveal the depths of my love to her. And if she should reject me, then with every ounce of power at my disposal, I shall safeguard her happiness. Even if my heart shatters into countless fragments, I shall eternally cherish her. If I am destined to transform into a demon on her behalf, then I shall vanquish all deities who have wronged her. I shall consume any malevolent demon seeking to ensnare her, and I shall annihilate any man audacious enough to contemplate harm befalling her. If she is to be a queen, then I shall be her demonic knight, ready to fight and perish in her name."

Having uttered these words, I inhaled deeply, as if my proclamation had embedded itself not only in the air of that room but also in the very essence of the universe. It felt as though I had not merely made a promise to myself or the warlock but to the Archdeity himself, vowing to fulfill my pledge with unwavering dedication and unyielding resolve.

"Foolish is too feeble a word to describe you," the warlock sneered, relishing in his anticipation of witnessing my face crumble with despair as my beloved rejected my love, branding me a lust-driven fool. He reveled in the twisted emotions that would cast doubt upon my very being. "All you men are the same," he continued, his voice laced with contempt. "You sacrifice meager things for others, only to yearn for what you once possessed. Do you truly need the love of this woman? Are there no other fair maidens who could captivate your heart? The princess may possess beauty, but she is far from the fairest of them all. You sacrifice your very life for her, and if you were to attain her, you would long for your former existence, just to spend it with her. What do you call such a man? An imbecilic moron, in my estimation."

Nonetheless, his words held no sway over me. A pact had been sealed, and as the foolish knight, I cared not for his jibes. The warlock, true to his word, would bestow upon me the powers required to reach my beloved. His thoughts and beliefs mattered little to me. There was naught more vital in my world than her, and the notion of another maiden did not even register. She might not be the epitome of beauty, but in my eyes, her allure transcended mere description. Even if I were a born poet, my words would fall short in capturing the extent of her splendor. The golden aura that adorned her visage served as testament to her noble lineage, as if the gods themselves had ordained her to wear the color of kings from birth, and it would remain a regal crown upon her head until old age—a fate that might never befall her. But it was the hue of her virtuous heart, loved by all and cherished by the fortunate few, that truly outshone any physical beauty.

If the warlock wished to mock me and scoff at my beliefs, I paid him no heed. What did such a creature know of love, secluded within his tower of skulls and bones, his existence defined by dealings with the infernal, never venturing beyond his solitary study?

Three suns have set since I bid adieu to my beloved kin, orchestrating my own demise in a ruse of mortality. Embarking upon a vessel bound for the arid lands of relentless heat, where souls journey to meet their final reckoning, I cared not for the daunting trials that awaited. For my heart, resolute and steadfast, beat solely to attain my princess, she who traverses the heavens astride majestic drakes, ensconced within a chariot of crystalline ice. Should it demand the passage of countless moons, I shall traverse the arduous path on foot, undeterred by the passage of time, for naught but her presence engenders significance.

Devoid of the cravings for sustenance or the yearning for repose, I shall forge ahead, undeterred, into the scorching heart of the desert, where the very sand dances as flames of inferno, liquefying and transmuting into molten glass beneath the blistering sun. Upon this chosen path, I shall tread resolutely, resolute in my purpose, unyielding in my determination. I shall traverse the arduous expanse, undertaking the voyage of a hundred thousand strides, until at last, I stand upon the very soil that has been graced by her gaze.

Amidst the vast expanse of the ocean, as the ship sailed toward the sun-drenched realms, fellow passengers sought solace in engaging conversation, for in this middle space of the boundless waters, any companionship appeared welcoming. The gentle symphony of waves caressing the vessel's hulls served as a melodic reverie to those who ventured across the dominion of the sea. Solid ground lay distant, its sight obscured by the horizon, leaving us to tread upon the sole foundation of life—a deck fashioned from the timbers of my homeland's silent sentinels, the trees.

Standing beside me, a formidable figure unfolded his stature, a man of considerable girth. He introduced himself as a blacksmith, an artisan skilled in the art of shaping weapons. Driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge, he sought passage to far-flung lands, aspiring to acquire novel techniques in the craft of blade-forging.

He began to elucidate the profound reasoning behind his unwavering commitment to refurbish a solitary blade eternally, defying all conventional wisdom that suggests forging new weapons. "People possess a disconcerting propensity to relinquish their erstwhile possessions upon acquiring something seemingly superior. They swiftly cast aside the blades that have faithfully served them, shielding them from the unforgiving world. These loyal companions transform into evanescent memories, fleeting and forgotten. Thus, as a veritable smith in these realms, I have resolved to forsake the forging of fresh blades, and instead, devote my craft to this singular masterpiece," he expounded, unveiling before us an awe-inspiring weapon forged from an otherworldly material I had never before beheld.

Curiosity piqued, one of the men inquired, "Pray tell, what metal doth this blade embody?"

"This?" he responded with a glint in his eye, "This, my friends, is star metal—a celestial alloy bestowed upon me by the divine hands, that my own might shape and bestow purpose upon it. It was bequeathed unto me on the day of my birth, passed down from my father before me. At its inception, the raw star metal ore was rugged and obdurate, thwarting my every effort to forge it. However, by embracing the symphony of steel, I gradually transmuted the unrefined ore into the keenest blade known to man. It can topple towering trees with a solitary stroke and vanquish demons with naught but a mere graze. This blade, wrought with years of toil, sweat, and, at times, tears, has grown resilient, serving as my unwavering bulwark against any foe. I cannot help but feel pity for the man who neglects to shape the divine ore bestowed upon him by the gods, be it into a shield or blade, thus safeguarding himself and his cherished kin."

As his words reverberated through the assembled men, a profound sense of awe enveloped their countenances. They gazed upon him as if he embodied the epitome of mastery, their eyes now discerning depths of wisdom within him. No longer did his physical stature loom large; instead, his spirit resonated deeply, for his words held a resounding truth. Each man and woman graced with life upon this earthly realm possessed the gift of existence, and it was their choice to either squander it amidst the depravity of vice or to shape it diligently and resolutely, transforming it into a splendid blade that would serve them faithfully. Even I, a knight , could not help but acknowledge the profound lesson unveiled in his discourse. It invigorated my spirit, fortifying my resolve, and left me certain that the gods had orchestrated this encounter, that I might ascertain my worthiness to be a crown befitting a queen—the queen of love and beauty. Beyond the realm of mortal boundaries, I shall embark upon a quest to find her, and with unwavering ardor, I shall confess my love unto her.