Author’s Note: My inspiration came from the image of an ambient music playlist. I was staring at the knight and wondering, “Why does he look so sad?” This is a story to answer that question in 200 words.
Read while listening for maximum immersion:
Succumbing to his exhaustion, the knight fell with a clang onto the stone steps of the keep. Steadying his breath, he allowed the dull pain of his bruised and battered body to settle. He had somehow managed to scrape by with his life still intact, but for what?
To defend his Lordship? There was no honor to defend. It had all been a facade. Only a cruel trick to beget a means to an end. The young knight felt foolish to have believed his lies. Even after what he had done to his sister. Dear, sweet Arianne…
He desperately wanted to raise his blade against him, to cut out that wretched tongue in retribution, but that would not bring her back.
The knight relaxed his aching muscles, feeling some relief that at least she was at rest. Rays of light danced off his silver gear and—for once—he thought it was beautiful when glinting underneath the sun.
A gentle breeze greeted him through the slit of his helm as he watched flowers of red, pink, and white sway in the wind.
Peonies. She loved peonies.
His eyelids fluttered closed, drifting into sleep, and he was with her once more.
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He didn't lose faith in a man. He lost a sister to the machinery of power. And the sword he carries now is not for vengeance, it's for memory. For the peonies. For the ones who loved gently and died for it.
This isn’t just a tale. It’s a wound with a pulse.
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