One beautiful morning, the skies filled with azure, a beautiful young maiden had emerged from her cottage. She tended to her flowers, dressed in white and blue. Just as the skies were. It was as if the heavens were catering to mother earth, as she appeared. She was like that. Nurturing. Caring. Kind. Never a judgment in her bones. Her hair, the color of a gentle fire embering to the winds.
The black lustered boots of The Fell Knight trodded along, in the far distance of the woods nearby. It was her. He had spotted her and stopped dead in his tracks. She could not see him. She was very special to him. Or so he had thought at one point. When he was a bit younger, having become a fully-fledged knight of the light, he was proud but not fully confident in himself yet from all the betrayals, misleadings and sufferings of his past. This was his way of redeeming himself. His method of earning his way to have someone admire him and have what every person in the kingdom has- true happiness. Love. The prospect of family, of communion. Of an everlasting bond.
He had approached this maiden one day when he had mustered up enough courage and professed his admiration of her. She had smiled but rejected him ultimately. He had tried and tried with many other spinsters, but to no avail. The young women in his earlier days had all betrayed him or left him for worldly pursuits. Other flavors of the month. He had believed that coming of age would surely change the perspectives of both men and women. They had somehow worsened, he thought looking back. People from both sides came together for the reason of what they could take from the other, what the other had to offer in terms of gold, land, status and security. Never were matters of the heart even considered. Only to be questioned when the heart would inevitably be betrayed and abandoned, only as does this formula provide. Still, the knight of the light tried again. Only to not just be rejected, but ignored completely thereafter.
He was not even ever a thought in her mind. More of an annoyance perhaps. Still, he felt for her. Even in his miserable state of ruin, he felt again when he thought of her. She was after all, what broke the knight of light, sending him on The Path of Ruin. The darkest night of the soul. He felt he was not capable of being loved or loving anymore. Even though his heart and soul, his very body and mind begged for it. Screamed for it. For touch. To be seen. To be held. To have his name spoken in the name of Love. To speak an angel’s name as his very own. No. Not he. His good looks weren’t enough. His status and title weren’t enough. His talents weren’t enough. He himself and who he was was never enough, even with bells and whistles. So many countless souls would utter to him that “his time would come” and that “he should be more positive”.
None of them understood that they were wrong. They didn’t care. They had their happiness. Happiness is one’s ticket to retreat and castle yourself off from the world. From everyone. We go to Church on Sundays in the name of God, in the name of All Of Us, to Love One Another, yet we don’t give a damn whether we breathe or die. He stared at her. He didn’t breathe. He could never breathe around her, for she stunned him with her beauty and aroma. When she would gaze into his eyes and tilt her head ever slightly, he would nearly suffocate from astonishment. “Always a nervous wreck. Even when I’ve lost my heart, you still can make it beat whilst dead. You were always incredible like that.” He had hoped that the essence of his words would reach her through the breeze somehow. Then, something came over The Fell Knight. He had decided out of nowhere to go up to her and simply attempt to win her heart one last time. He had nothing left to lose. Maybe this was where The Path of Ruin had led him… to true Love. It was a test, he thought surely. This was his day finally.
He began to arrange himself to look more presentable and as he began to advance, a man came out from her cottage with two mugs of cider. They embraced. The man’s smile rose like the sun as The Fell Knight’s set into the depths of agony. They were lovers. She seemed so happy with him. It was exactly what The Fell Knight had always envisioned in his own life. To feel that. He felt a bloodied rage in his heart like he had never felt before. He had looked at the man and saw nothing greater than anything he was. He had raised his Bloodlust sword, possessed and ready to eliminate the undeserving who constantly rob him of his very air to joy. Then…it dropped.
The Bloodlust fell to the grass. The Fell Knight fell to his knees. His head to the ground, to the earth beneath him. He began crying. He cried slowly. The tears flowed and followed to his chest. His heart. The broken, black heart that still wanted to love and to be loved. He thought to himself, “You truly are the most powerful force, for even this monster you have broken yet again with your Love.” He removed his chestplate. His gauntlets. He tossed the Bloodlust to the wayside, for the day. “I no longer wish to feel the emotions of the gods. Take your Love and Hatred for neither have served me. I wish to feel what I will as a mere mortal, whatever that may be! I don’t need your Love!!!”
He walked away, as a man. Even if for a day, for he knew The Path of Ruin would not allow him to tether the way. But still, for a day he wanted to be a simple man with his pain walking among his brethren. She gazed over to his direction.
The breeze blew her crimson hair and she smiled, not knowing why.
She felt incredible.
In "The Lovers," the narrative delves into the Fell Knight's emotional story, marked by unreciprocated affection and self-realization. This chapter explores the intricate themes of desire, denial, and self-discovery, portraying the knight's internal battle with his unfulfilled romantic aspirations. It underscores a poignant lesson about the strength found in embracing one's genuine feelings and the bravery required to confront and accept personal truths, even amidst the pain of romantic disappointment.
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