Chapter 7- Her Knight

  By the time Ryn awoke, he was no longer on the plains. The first thing he noticed was the quiet, the hush of a chamber far removed from the chaos of battle. He lay on a broad bed dressed in silk sheets, the canopy above etched with silver filigree. Golden light spilled through tall, arched windows, glinting off polished marble floors and the carved pillars that framed the room. The faint scent of lavender hung in the air, too rich, too refined for a soldier’s quarters.

  “An unfamiliar ceiling,” Ryn whispered under his breath.

  “Finally awake,” beside him, a voice calm and measured spoke.

  Seated in a high-backed chair was Ryn's captain, Sylvas.

  The captain looked at ease, one leg crossed over the other, a document in hand. His eyes flicked up from the parchment as soon as he noticed Ryn stirring, and the faintest smile tugged at his lips.

  “Fighting a forgotten curse on the first day of the job,” Sylvas remarked, his tone smooth but edged with irony. “I don't envy your luck.”

  ‘So it wasn't just a forgotten beast…’

  Looking down at the bandages wrapped across his chest, Ryn felt a rare sense of relief; this being the only wound he had carried away from that battle was fortune enough; mundane men had no business facing an aberration alone, let alone one of that class and rank. Yet what eased him more than his own survival was the knowledge that he had protected the princess from such a dangerous threat.

  It was then that Captain Sylvas explained what had transpired after the battle. Ryn's unconscious body had been dragged from the outer edges of Solvara by none other than the princess and her maid, and from there, a band of guards had assisted in carrying your body up the castle.

  “—where you were to receive medical care,” Sylvas narrated

  “Your chest was nearly split open,” lowering the document in his hand.“If that silver-haired maid hadn’t patched you up, you’d be dead already.”

  ‘Lilia?’ he thought.

  ‘I suppose I shouldn’t expect less from someone in the service to royalty.’

  He turned to face his documents again. “It seemed the princess was pretty worried about you as well.”

  Sylvas gave a short pause before continuing his recount of the events that followed. Apparently, the relic that had fallen from the aberration upon its death, a twisted, blackened ring, was retrieved and handed over to Eldric. Ryn remembered it only faintly, its shape blurred in the haze of battle and adrenaline. It made sense that he had not paid it much attention. Eldric was the only Blessed in Solvara, so he was the only one who could contain such a relic, let alone wield it.

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  “That was how we confirmed the creatures rank, it was formed from a forgotten god, and its class, Curse,” Sylvas explained. A faint smirk tugged at the captain’s lips. “Even Eldric himself seemed surprised you managed to survive the encounter with all your limbs intact.”

  Then, he added, “His exact words were: ‘If that boy one day becomes a Blessed and awakens his internal domain, I will give this ring to him. He deserves it.’”

  After hearing this, Ryn muttered to himself, “I don't need that old drunk's praise.”

  Replying to Ryn's harsh words, Sylvas let out a sharp laugh. “Don’t forget, boy, he’s the only Blessed in this city for a reason. Don’t let his theatrics fool you.”

  With that, he continued. Apparently, Kael, Brann, and Sara had also stopped by, though they hadn’t stayed long; they still had posts to return to.

  “You’ve been asleep since yesterday. It’s morning now,” Sylvas said. “I recommend you don’t get back to work immediately, but knowing you, my warnings won’t matter. Your armor is over there.” He gestured toward the far wall, where Ryn’s newly repaired armor and blade rested.

  With the document still in hand, Sylvas rose from his chair and made for the door. “Don’t push yourself too hard,” he added, pulling it shut behind him.

  Minutes later, Ryn was already strapping his armor back on. The bandages tugged against his skin with every movement, a dull throb pulsing beneath the fresh steel.

  His chest burned when he tightened the straps, reminding him of the wound that had nearly carved him in two. But he didn’t slow. It wasn't the first time Ryn experienced pain, and it for sure wouldn't be the last; and mere pain wasn’t enough to slow his duty.

  ***

  The night before Ryn awoke, Princess Ariel lay completely still on her bed, utterly exhausted both mentally and physically, especially after dragging her appointed knight's body into the city.

  “Honestly…” she muttered, her voice low.

  “Here I thought he was supposed to protect me.”

  A dry laugh slipped out. “Some knight he turned out to be… I’m the one dragging him around. "

  Her gaze lingered on the canopy above as she exhaled sharply.

  “Useless…”

  With a weary sigh, she rose from the bed and drifted toward the shelves that lined the far wall. The books there were a scattered mess, stacked unevenly, left untended for far too long. Her fingers trailed along the spines, eyes narrowing as she searched through the clutter. At last, she pulled free a heavy tome, the compendium of Solvara’s guards and knights.

  She flipped through the thick pages, scanning name after name, face after face, until she found the one she sought.

  Her brow furrowed.

  A boy stared back from the inked portrait: dark-haired, his gaze cold and unyielding despite the youth etched in his features. His hair had been shorter then, but the eyes… the eyes were the same. His age, too, he was far too young for a man who wielded a blade with such frightening control.

  “Ryn…” she whispered, the name escaping her lips.

  It was such a plain name, nothing like the grand titles or gilded surnames she was accustomed to. She would even describe it as Ordinary.

  Yet it was his.

  Her knight’s name.

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