The Seventh Knight

“It was as if she was made before the world, and the world was made to cradle her beauty.”

A wise king once said, “Once you come back from a war, things will never be the same again.”

He was right.

After three long years, I'm not even sure if I'm half the man I used to be. I've done things that no knight—no man, should've even thought of doing, and yet they praise me, and herald me a hero to the kingdom.

But…I have a duty.

One that I must uphold; to smile, to wave, to stride along the paths of the castle on a majestic steed, to give hope...

And pretend to be the hero that people want me to be.

Nevertheless I made my way through the adoring crowds to reach the castle.

The entrance to the throne room was behind a large ornamented door. Behind that door, their majesties, the King awaits me.

“Ser Sigurd has returned!” the herald announced.

The royal guards raised their swords in salutation. I genuflected before his majesty, King Edward. His eyes looked at me with hope, and pride, and all the trust a young man can give another. “Ser Sigurd, you may stand.”

I stood up but kept my head lowered.

“Why do you bow your head, Sigurd?”

“I do not think I deserve such treatment, your majesty. I am but a humble man from the boonies, and you are the ruler of this kingdom.”

“Nonsense! For what you did for this country, for avenging my father's deaths. You should raise your head proud. You are this kingdom's greatest hero.” King Edward gestured to his priest, and he handed the king a beautifully crafted sword.

The king took out the sword and dabbed it on my shoulders. “I dub thee Ser Sigurd of the Black Rose.”

He sheathed the sword back to its scabbard and held it before me. “Take this sword as a symbol of your knighthood. Feel it, bear it, wield it as the sign of your loyalty to the crown and the kingdom.”

The sword felt heavy in my hands, not because of the weight of its steel, but the weight of the expectations that come with it. The roses engraved in its scabbard gave it a strangely elegant frame. I unsheathed the sword and saw the runic engravings along the edges.

The sword was made from a black stone that fell from the sky, it was light but it felt tougher than any other sword I've held before. It was a masterpiece; a work of art.

But it felt wrong to have it. I was no real hero. Had they known what I had to do to get here, none of them, not even the king would be proud of me.

Nonetheless, I straddled it to my belt and left the throne room bearing a smile.

I went back to my house and removed the armor I had worn in battle. Because now, the clothes of a commoner was more suitable for a man like me.

In times that I felt distraught, I kept to myself and I would wander along the pier to admire the setting sun. The persimmon skyline of the Kingdom of Regalia looked like an expensive painting when it reflected the ocean. The sound of the seagulls and the swashing waves against the shore was nothing short of therapeutic.

It had been three years since I've even caught a glimpse of this scenery. To see it again, made me shed a tear just by gazing at the horizon.

“My dad told me that a man is not himself when he looks at the ocean that longingly,” said a woman's voice.

It was someone that I'd never met. She wore an ivy-colored sundress that complimented the innocence of her porcelain skin. The auburn locks of her hair danced together with the wind as it playfully touched her cheeks and covered her pale brown eyes. The smile that ran along her lips glimmered under the brilliance of the orange sky.

It was as if she was molded before the world was even created, and the world was made solely to cradle her beauty.

I stared at her for what felt like an eternity; dumbstruck when she sat next to me.

“I'm sorry, did I startle you?” she said then she chuckled softly. She had a laugh that could tame even the fiercest of beasts, and melt the coldest of hearts.

“Oh! I'm being rude, aren't I? I haven't even told you my name!” She stood up and held out her hand. “Serena. Serena Merces."

I took her hand and she smiled at me, “Sigurd. Just Sigurd.”

“Well, Just Sigurd we need to get going.”

“We? Where?”

“Yes, we! The King is holding a feast tonight in honor of the late king's name day. I bet there's gonna be dancing, and music… and fireworks! So, let's go!” She took my hand and we ran towards the town.

I smirked at that and surrendered.

It was going to be a long night.