Two knights at the Door

He pondered for a moment before speaking, "There was something you mentioned during the Kraken's invasion. You hinted that the master I'm serving might not be true. Do you recall that?"

Lady Lumiere furrowed her brow, a hint of confusion clouding her features. "No, my lord. Have I really said such a thing?"

"Yes."

"Forgive me, my lord. I may be too exhausted to recall anything from that day, but if I did say something like that, I assure you, I would discuss it with you," she expressed with a graceful bow before leaving the room.

As she departed, a lingering doubt gnawed at him. 'Is she...'

Years in the slums had honed his ability to read people. He could discern the true nature of individuals as easily as spotting a rock in a clear lake's bed.

'Rock... well, shit.'

He kicked off his sheet, leaping up. Again, that strange darkness clouded his head. He tightened his abs, and like a passing storm, the black fog vanished.

Once sure he was looking presentable (gotta keep up the World Bringer image, right?), he strolled out of his cabin. The sea, quiet as a church mouse today, seemed to be catching its breath after the Kraken's crazy show or, if you're feeling poetic, shedding a tear for its tentacled kiddo.

Whispers rustled across the deck the moment he stepped out of his cabin.

"Where are you off to?" inquired one of the knights. Towering over everyone with muscles that could rival an ox, he looked like a walking mountain.

"Uh, just need some fresh air," came the reply.

"You've got all the 'fresh' you need right here," the knight retorted, gesturing to the open sea. "No need to venture out, especially with the injuries you've got."

"My injuries aren't your concern, sir. Maybe you should redirect those eyes away from peeping into other people's business."

"What?"

The knight's confusion was turning into anger, and Morvain cursed his own tongue.

'There's no reason for me to get beaten up again. What am I even doing? I don't even know where the stone is...'

Suddenly, a revelation struck him like a flash before lightning.

'The magic spear. I bet the stone is in it.'

"Listen, sir. I just need some time to myself. Could you please be kind enough to allow me that?" Morvain pleaded.

The towering knight stared at him incredulously and then burst into laughter, the sound echoing across the deck.

"You want me to leave you alone after you attacked my lord, the child of Emberfall, just because you need some fresh air?" He jabbed a finger accusingly at Morvain. "Look here, you lowborn. The only reason you and your 'friends' aren't swinging from the gallows is because you lodged my lord's magical spear in the Kraken. That's it. You stole his glory, tried to kill him, and now you want me to leave you alone?" The knight's voice was a mix of anger and disdain.

"The only reason you're standing here is because of him, Sir Kingsley. Perhaps you ought to remember that sometimes," chimed in the other knight. He was slightly smaller than Sir Kingsley, yet still towering over Morvain, and an air of calmness surrounded him.

"What?!" bellowed Sir Kingsley, his anger escalating at the unexpected defense.

"I said, whether lowborn or highborn, the fact remains – this boy saved us. You saw it, and I damn well know I saw it. Not our lord, but this lad was the one who stood up during the Kraken's rampage and halted its assault.

"Without his courage, the Kraken might've sunk the ship. Now, by the laws of gods or men, anyone risking their life to save many is a hero. There's nothing to question there. And even if there were, is there any law or honor code demanding a hero's death for defending himself?" The smaller knight spoke with conviction.

Sir Kingsley, the large knight, turned a stern gaze toward his fellow brother, pointing a condemning finger.

"Sir Steffan, what you're doing is not guarding but treason, against our oath."

"Treason?" Sir Steffan shifted to face the larger knight, his green eyes oozing with a calmness reminiscent of the sea. "Tell me, Sir Kingsley. Are your words rooted in duty or honor? Are we here to protect him, or are we here to exact revenge for the perceived humiliation our lord felt? Is it considered honorable to kill the man who saved over two thousand lives? Or perhaps, your honor is to slay any man simply because your lord commands it. That's quite amusing, indeed."

Sir Kingsley regarded Sir Steffan for a moment, his hand firmly clasped around the hilt of his longsword. It was a weapon that would be considered a longsword for any other man, but Morvain had his doubts that it was anything short of a colossal blade in this beastly knight's grip.

Just then, Morvain caught sight of someone he hadn't even considered throughout this entire exchange. And just like that, another perfect opportunity presented itself.

"Like I said," he began, both knights turning to look at him, "I just wanted to see my lord. Nothing more. I want to make sure he's fed properly and slept properly."

Both knights frowned, their attention momentarily diverted by Morvain's unexpected interjection.

"What are you yapping on about, boy?" queried Sir Kingsley. "Have you gone mad?"

"I, for the love of the gods and the oath I made, cannot sleep properly while my lord is worrying about his humble servant, that is... me," Morvain pointed a finger at himself.

"You really have lost it. No wonder young Lord Emberfall warned everyone not to talk to a person like you, much less approach you. And you... are really dumb if you think your master can save you from this predicament, boy," proclaimed Sir Kingsley.

'Yep, I have you on my hand, sir beastly.' 

Morvain's grin turned sinister, and in an instant, his expression transformed into an angry fowl, as if he were about to start a screaming match.

"What did you just say about my master?!" he howled. "You dare utter a single foul word about my master. He'd save innocent men behind bars without batting an eye. A man of his words and honor, he'd never abandon a loyal servant. Even if I were to meet my demise today, I'd be content knowing I perished for my master, just as I faced off against that mighty Kraken on his behalf."

"What the hell are—"

"Sir Kingsley," a calm voice interrupted from the side. The voice of a boy who couldn't help but get goosebumps from hearing his servant's unwavering loyalty.

Morvain's inner monologue screamed, 'Yeah! Well, screw you and your young lord, you motherfucker!'

Both Sir Kingsley and Sir Steffan's faces turned deathly pale as they immediately bowed to the man who strode forward with a confident albeit awkward gait.

"Lord Ravencore!"

He had arrived. Morvain's savior appeared on the battlefield like an elegant and gallant knight on a lost battleground.