The curtains parted without ceremony. There was no music this time, no grand narration. Only the sound of boots striking stone, slow, measured, and alone.
The knight stood beneath a blood-red sky; behind the knight, walking forward was the illusion of torn banners.
He who had protected the kingdom from all harm had been banished and was now walking with no destination.
The knight walked alone beneath the crimson sky.
No armor weighed upon his shoulders. No crest marked his name. Each step echoed too loudly in the emptiness, as if the world itself were listening.
The sound carried farther than it should have, bouncing off stone and broken ground, returning to him distorted, too slow, too hollow.
It reminded him of empty halls where his presence once commanded silence, not because he demanded it, but because people trusted him enough to listen.
He had been the kingdom's shield. Now he was nothing more than a man on a road that led nowhere.
