〚Translator - FableWarden〛
The castle crumbled.
A crimson whirlwind danced around the once magnificent palace of the Princess.
As the dust settled, a horrifying scene unfolded. The once formidable perimeter walls lay shattered.
Massive slashes marked the outer barricades, akin to the gashes of a colossal beast.
Beneath this spectacle, the battlefield was littered with the fallen bodies of countless knights.
Over one of these lifeless forms, a lone sword jutted out from the ground, impaled and broken.
Its shattered form was all too familiar – the cherished blade entrusted upon me by Princess Irina.
A lifetime vow echoed in my mind — to protect Irina with this very sword.
And today,
That solemn pledge found its terrible fulfillment.
The bloodshed began when the Sun Emperor passed away.
While Irina fled the clutches of the Crown Prince's forces, I stood alone, buying her precious time.
And now, defeat claimed me, sprawled upon the bloodstained ground. Yet, it mattered little.
Because I’ve won us the precious time we needed.
By this time, she should have escaped the castle.
To die defending one's liege – could there be a greater honor for a fallen knight? With this thought, I felt my eyelids drift shut, a peaceful acceptance settling over me.
Silence reigned.
Yet, my barely shut eyelids showed signs of tension.
For I began to notice minute vibrations reaching my ears, which I had presumed to be closed off.
It must undoubtedly be a spearman, approaching to confirm my demise.
A swift, brutal thrust of the spear, and my body would be ripped apart once more.
This morbid anticipation jolted my dormant heart awake. But the tremors weren't quite right. They lacked the heavy thudding of a spearman's boots. These were softer, gentler steps – hesitant, even uncertain.
A surge of anxious premonition ripped through me, forcing my eyes open.
The first thing I saw was my own hand, scarred and battered, a testament to countless battles fought and won. Above it, another hand hovered, a sight that sent a jolt of recognition through me.
It couldn't be. Not this hand. A life had been sacrificed to protect that very hand. As I looked up, cascading strands of silver hair fell over my battered armor, confirming my worst fears.
A delicate fruit fragrance, sweet and foreign, wafted between us. Moments later, a warm breath tickled my rigid face.
“Vail….”
The voice was a mere whisper, weak and strained, yet no matter how strained, how could I fail to recognize it?
Happiness surged through me, a counterpoint to the burgeoning dread. With Irina's return, the last ember of rebellion against the Crown Prince had flickered out.
“Why in the world did you return…” I rasped, sorrow heavy in my voice. A thousand questions battled for release, but my body, on the precipice of death, forbade even this. All I could manage was a weak turn of my head, seeking her face.
Irina's green eyes, usually vibrant, were magnified by the encroaching shadows. A ghost of a smile played on her lips, a stark contrast to the tremor in her eyelids, red-rimmed and glistening.
"While on the run, I thought about this countless times," she whispered, her voice strangely calm. "But, in the world I’ve decided to create…" Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over like rain and tracing a warm path down my cheek. "I can't... not without you."
The remnants of the palace hung heavy with dust, a shroud soon disturbed by the settling ash. Sunlight, a cruel beauty, streamed through the gaping wounds in the walls, bathing us in its harsh embrace. It was in this moment, illuminated by the dying sun, that I saw her clearly.
The Princess wore a pristine white dress.
However, a crimson streak blemished her gown, flowing from her abdomen.
The fabric, once pristine, was now a canvas of her lifeblood.
Amid the seeping blood, a dagger protruding from her abdomen became visible.
This dagger bore no affiliation with the Crown Prince or his soldiers.
It was mine, a gift I had bestowed upon her long ago.
Comprehending the Princess’s intentions caused me to scream out loud. And a scream tore from my throat, raw and desperate.
“Why… why…!”
I screamed again and again.
Until the black blood simmered to a boiling point.
My vision blurred, the world twisting and turning.
Even as my life ebbed away, the question lingered, a maddening puzzle with no solution.
"I've protected you all my life..." I rasped, the words heavy with the weight of a broken vow.
My last words were transformed.
They no longer held any honor embedded in them like, ‘Please, survive.’.
Even that last shred of honor was denied me.
The castle crumbled.
A crimson whirlwind danced around the once magnificent palace of the Princess.
As the dust settled, a horrifying scene unfolded. The once formidable perimeter walls lay shattered.
Massive slashes marked the outer barricades, akin to the gashes of a colossal beast.
Beneath this spectacle, the battlefield was littered with the fallen bodies of countless knights.
Over one of these lifeless forms, a lone sword jutted out from the ground, impaled and broken.
Its shattered form was all too familiar – the cherished blade entrusted upon me by Princess Irina.
A lifetime vow echoed in my mind — to protect Irina with this very sword.
And today,
That solemn pledge found its terrible fulfillment.
The bloodshed began when the Sun Emperor passed away.
While Irina fled the clutches of the Crown Prince's forces, I stood alone, buying her precious time.
And now, defeat claimed me, sprawled upon the bloodstained ground. Yet, it mattered little.
Because I’ve won us the precious time we needed.
By this time, she should have escaped the castle.
To die defending one's liege – could there be a greater honor for a fallen knight? With this thought, I felt my eyelids drift shut, a peaceful acceptance settling over me.
Silence reigned.
Yet, my barely shut eyelids showed signs of tension.
For I began to notice minute vibrations reaching my ears, which I had presumed to be closed off.
It must undoubtedly be a spearman, approaching to confirm my demise.
A swift, brutal thrust of the spear, and my body would be ripped apart once more.
This morbid anticipation jolted my dormant heart awake. But the tremors weren't quite right. They lacked the heavy thudding of a spearman's boots. These were softer, gentler steps – hesitant, even uncertain.
A surge of anxious premonition ripped through me, forcing my eyes open.
The first thing I saw was my own hand, scarred and battered, a testament to countless battles fought and won. Above it, another hand hovered, a sight that sent a jolt of recognition through me.
It couldn't be. Not this hand. A life had been sacrificed to protect that very hand. As I looked up, cascading strands of silver hair fell over my battered armor, confirming my worst fears.
A delicate fruit fragrance, sweet and foreign, wafted between us. Moments later, a warm breath tickled my rigid face.
“Vail….”
The voice was a mere whisper, weak and strained, yet no matter how strained, how could I fail to recognize it?
Happiness surged through me, a counterpoint to the burgeoning dread. With Irina's return, the last ember of rebellion against the Crown Prince had flickered out.
“Why in the world did you return…” I rasped, sorrow heavy in my voice. A thousand questions battled for release, but my body, on the precipice of death, forbade even this. All I could manage was a weak turn of my head, seeking her face.
Irina's green eyes, usually vibrant, were magnified by the encroaching shadows. A ghost of a smile played on her lips, a stark contrast to the tremor in her eyelids, red-rimmed and glistening.
"While on the run, I thought about this countless times," she whispered, her voice strangely calm. "But, in the world I’ve decided to create…" Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over like rain and tracing a warm path down my cheek. "I can't... not without you."
The remnants of the palace hung heavy with dust, a shroud soon disturbed by the settling ash. Sunlight, a cruel beauty, streamed through the gaping wounds in the walls, bathing us in its harsh embrace. It was in this moment, illuminated by the dying sun, that I saw her clearly.
The Princess wore a pristine white dress.
However, a crimson streak blemished her gown, flowing from her abdomen.
The fabric, once pristine, was now a canvas of her lifeblood.
Amid the seeping blood, a dagger protruding from her abdomen became visible.
This dagger bore no affiliation with the Crown Prince or his soldiers.
It was mine, a gift I had bestowed upon her long ago.
Comprehending the Princess’s intentions caused me to scream out loud. And a scream tore from my throat, raw and desperate.
“Why… why…!”
I screamed again and again.
Until the black blood simmered to a boiling point.
My vision blurred, the world twisting and turning.
Even as my life ebbed away, the question lingered, a maddening puzzle with no solution.
"I've protected you all my life..." I rasped, the words heavy with the weight of a broken vow.
My last words were transformed.
They no longer held any honor embedded in them like, ‘Please, survive.’.
Even that last shred of honor was denied me.
Tags
Knight