Ódigos wades slowly through the shallow water of the swamp. Despite his astuteness, even the horse seems tormented by the scenery surrounding him and his two riders. Pónos holds the reins firmly, while Kálos scans the area, looking for any sign of dry land to set up camp. He did not know the extent of the Wastes of Avévaios.
Ódigos stops. Kálos and Pónos feel the gray horse's spine tremble beneath them.
— What is it, boy? — asks Kálos, his voice trembling.
— Move! — Pónos strikes the horse's side with her heel.
Despite her efforts, Ódigos seems to refuse to continue the path. He slowly begins to back up.
— What are you doing? — the girl scolds. — Go forward, Ódigos!
— I think he saw something. — says Kálos. And he was right.
They see a long, slender shadow passing around them, immersed in the water. They see only a large silhouette circling the horse. Ódigos rears up on his hind legs, throwing the white knight into the water, with Pónos falling on top of him. Before Kálos can get up to calm the horse, it bolts, vanishing into the mist.
Promptly, despite the trembling, Kálos draws his sword as he rises, placing himself in front of Pónos, trying to face the front of whatever is circling them while the water reaches his waist.
— Stay behind me! — says the knight.
Pónos does not answer; she only tries to cling to the metal of the white armor. And after long seconds of uncertainty, it emerges: a massive serpent, approximately thirty meters long. Its mouth, large enough to swallow Kálos whole if it got too close. The white knight was around six foot three, and yet, he felt far too small near that serpent.
The creature opens its mouth, baring its enormous fangs. Without thinking twice, Kálos grabs Pónos and rolls to the side in the shallow swamp water as the serpent lunges. He manages to get up quickly, still holding Pónos, who screams in terror. The serpent turns its head after snapping at the air and some of the water beneath it. When Kálos thinks of moving again to attempt a counterattack this time, he realizes his foot is caught on something underwater—probably a vine or a branch—and he panics.
— Get out of here, Pónos! — he shouts, pushing the woman away from him.
The snake strikes, swallowing Kálos without chewing. Pónos, not knowing what to do, swims away. Despite being swallowed by the serpent, fighting against the creature's digestive muscles, he had managed to create enough space for the damsel to save herself. Pónos cries as she struggles to get as far away as possible, while the serpent ignores her, satisfied with the knight it had just swallowed.
After five minutes in the serpent's belly, Kálos, tired of trying to stab the beast from the inside, lets his sword drop. The space is too narrow to wield it. It felt like its muscles were made of steel. His sword was useless against the monstrosity that had swallowed him. The creature's acidic mucus stained his armor even more. His tired body gives up the fight, and he waits for the inevitable.
There, in the belly of the serpent, he asks himself: "Is this how I will die? I haven't achieved any goal. I dirtied my armor in vain." A long sigh accompanies his thoughts. The young man, who came from nowhere, would leave without having reached anywhere. He remembers his mother, and the pain she felt every time she polished the white armor, the only thing his father had left behind when he abandoned them.
"Kálos, my son." He remembers his mother's words bathed in pain. "This armor is the only valuable thing we have. One day, I want you to wear it, and be a knight. The best you can be. My white knight."
He could only think that he had disappointed his mother. For years, he grew up knowing he would wear this armor on his body. And he had used it foolishly. He closes his eyes, accepting his disastrous end. But to his surprise, he feels the snake thrash about wildly. And then, it stops. The snake seems to have fallen. And the darkness that enveloped him turns into light.
A red knight, wielding a large two-handed sword, slices open the serpent's belly, dirtying the white knight's armor even further. The serpent is on the edge of the swamp. The red knight extends his hand to help Kálos up.
— Clean your armor, white knight. — the red knight says. — Once the blood dries, it is very hard to clean.
Kálos looks at the red knight, taking his hand to step out from inside the now-dead serpent. — Who are you? — asks Kálos, observing his surroundings, seeing Pónos and Ódigos behind the knight who had saved him.
— I am Aureon Empeiros. — he says, retrieving Kálos's sword from the snake's belly and handing it back to him. — Luckily, I was nearby when I saw your horse running through the swamp in a panic. Soon after, I saw the girl, who informed me you were in trouble.
— Thank you. I am Kálos. — the white knight says, moving to the water's edge to clean his armor. — I didn't know there were other knights in these swamps.
— Just me and four others who follow me. — says Aureon. He watches the white knight cleaning his armor through the visor of his own ruby helmet, the white armor still tinged with a faint pink hue on the gauntlets. — That is why I prefer red armor.
Pónos watches the knights' interaction from afar, still shaken by the situation. — You said you travel with other knights. Do you have a camp around here? — she asks, her voice trembling.
— Yes. — the knight says, still watching Kálos, before finally turning around. — I will offer you food and shelter for the night. Do not worry.
Kálos cleans himself, still in silence. Pónos bows forward in a gesture of gratitude. — Thank you for saving my friend, Sir Aureon. — she says.
Kálos finally turns around. — Yes. — he says. — I am grateful you saved my life. But I would have figured something out.
Aureon laughs. — Of course, boy. — he confirms, turning his back to them. — Follow me.
The walk along the edges of the Wastes of Avévaios is accompanied by the sound of muddy water giving way to solid ground. Kálos follows on foot, his steps heavy with exhaustion and the moisture seeping through the gaps in his armor. Close behind, Ódigos walks with more confidence now that they tread on dry soil, still being guided by Pónos's trembling hands.
Within minutes, the dense mist dissipates enough to reveal the orange glow of a lit campfire. The camp is modest, set up in a clearing of hard-packed dirt and protected by twisted trunks that keep the swamp's moisture at bay. Sitting around the fire, resting on cut logs, are four imposing figures.
Kálos observes them with curiosity and caution. Two of them wear completely black armor, whose plates seem to swallow the light of the fire, reflecting nothing, only absorbing the environment around them. The other two wear silver armor, polished and gleaming, shining with the reflection of the flames.
One of the knights in black armor, noticing the group's approach, stands up lazily. He rests his hand on the pommel of his sword and examines Kálos from top to bottom, pausing at the deplorable state the young man is in. The serpent's acid has dulled the white shine of the metal, mixing with the dirt of the clearing and the ogre's blood on his gauntlets.
— Look what Sir Aureon dragged out of the muck. — the black knight says, his voice dripping with disdain. — I heard it's rare to see a white knight cross these lands nowadays. But looking closely... — He takes a step forward, pointing at Kálos's breastplate. — ...you look more like a stained knight to me.
The other three knights burst into laughter. The metallic sound of their laughs echoes through the quiet clearing. Kálos feels his face burn beneath his helmet. The embarrassment hits him harder than the ogre's bite. He glances back and notices Pónos's shoulders shaking slightly. A short, suppressed giggle escapes the damsel's lips. She finds the situation amusing, but, noticing the boy's gaze, clears her throat and adjusts her posture on the horse, trying to hide her amusement.
Before Kálos can even think of drawing his sword or formulating a response, Aureon's imposing figure places himself between him and the black knight.
— Enough, Vóros! — Aureon roars, and his voice is like thunder that makes the campfire flames waver. The reprimand is firm, laden with the authority of someone who does not accept being questioned. — Shut your mouths and show some respect to the boy. He survived the guts of a swamp serpent to protect the damsel. That's more bravery than any of you showed in your early days in these wastes.
The laughter stops immediately. The black knight lowers his head in a begrudging nod, sitting back down, while Pónos, in the background, slightly widens her eyes and completely drops her expression, swallowing any trace of laughter in the face of the ruby leader's fury.
Aureon turns to the silver knights. — Help the girl down from the horse. Give her food and water. And take care of the animal.
Without waiting for a response from his subordinates, the red knight places a heavy hand on Kálos's shoulder. — Come with me, Kálos. — He guides him toward the largest tent in the camp.
Aureon's tent has a few lit lanterns, some swords, bows, and crossbows tossed into a basket, and banners from various kingdoms—some torn, others stained. Bowls with leftover food and medicinal herbs are scattered across a small wooden table. A straw bed sits in the corner of the tent.
— How long have you been in this swamp? — Kálos asks, observing the place.
— For a few months. — the red knight replies as he removes his sword from his back, placing it on the table, pushing aside the bowls there. — I hold this post to help anyone passing through. Some knights join me. Others just pass by.
— If that is an invitation... — Kálos begins, but is interrupted by Aureon.
— It's not. — he says, his voice firm. — You have your own journey, as I can see. I know you are only passing through. — He turns back to Kálos. — What is your destination?
— Eiríni.
The red knight laughs, but stops abruptly upon looking at Kálos. — Are you serious? — he asks.
— Yes... — says Kálos, confused. — What's so funny?
— Boy, the path to Eiríni is not a simple path for an inexperienced knight and a commoner. — he says, his hand going to his forehead, rubbing his helm with a sigh. — Do you even know which way to take?
— Pónos guides the way.
— The woman? — Aureon chuckles briefly. — Are you going to tell me you let her guide your horse?
— She knows the way. — Kálos says in a calm tone, still trying to regain his composure after the battle with the serpent. — I let her guide Ódigos.
— But you are the knight. — the red knight says, his voice steady. — If you let someone else guide the horse for you, you won't know the way back, nor will you learn the paths you take. — Aureon sighs, sitting on the edge of the straw bed. — You have no idea what you're doing, do you?
— I am taking Pónos to her destination. — the white knight says, a bit frustrated.
— No. — the ruby knight replies. — You are being taken. That woman is guiding your 'Ódigos' to where she wants him to go. What do you think will happen when she reaches her destination? — he asks. — Do you think the horse will obey your commands the same way it did before?
— Ódigos never obeyed me much, honestly. I only guided him once, when I found Pónos. — The white knight grumbles, making Aureon burst into laughter again.
— That's even worse. The horse is hers then, not yours. — he answers, standing up and walking toward Kálos. — Do you think being a knight is just wearing armor and swinging a sword, boy? — he asks, poking his finger against the breastplate of the white armor. — You are following the wrong paths. You are letting someone else guide you, staining your armor with the dirt from someone else's path.
— But it is my duty to save Pónos! — the white knight exclaims.
— Do you even know if she wants to be saved? — Aureon asks, his voice calm but firm. — Even if she does, that is not how you save someone. Someone who wants to be saved allows themselves to be guided. From what I understand, she is merely using your horse and your sword to reach her own destination. I understand that you want to save her, and there is a certain nobility in that, but you cannot give up your horse and your sword to fulfill someone else's journey. Because at some point, her journey will come to an end, and when that day comes... — Aureon pauses, turning around, looking at one of the broken swords in the basket. — You will be left without a horse, without a sword, and with an armor you don't recognize...
Kálos stares at the back of the red armor. The ruby dye is not natural. It is made of stains and marks acquired over time. The red knight didn't choose that armor. He earned it. Aureon turns to the white knight once more.
— Believe me, Knight. — the man with the tired voice continues. — I know the pain of living a journey that isn't yours. — He lets out a short chuckle in a sigh. — But I also know you will only learn after the fall. Just... try not to make the same mistakes I did. Keep my words in mind.
Kálos absorbs Aureon's words and leaves the tent with a nod, without saying a single word. Around the campfire, Pónos is eating with the four knights. She sees Kálos coming out of the tent and gives him a smile. Kálos nods back and moves toward Ódigos.
Ódigos is feeding alongside five other horses tied to the twisted swamp trees near the camp. The white knight reaches his hand out to the gray horse, who, despite seeming to take a moment to understand, still rests his snout against Kálos's now-pinkish gauntlets.
Aureon emerges from the tent, glancing briefly at Kálos. He walks toward the four knights and Pónos at the campfire.
— Pónos, Kálos told me you are heading to Eiríni. — he says, crossing his arms. — Which path will you take?
Pónos looks at the red knight, swallowing the last bite of the stew they had served her. — The Valley of Líthi. — she says.
Aureon tilts his head to the side. — Líthi? — he asks, in a concerned tone.
— Yes. — she answers, with a calm expression. — It is the fastest route. It's peaceful, and the smell of the pollen calms me.
Aureon nods, looking at Kálos, who is still stroking his horse. He joins the campfire. — I will ask Vóros to guide you out of the swamp at dawn. You will exit at the Aeráki Woods. From there, you can continue your journey.
Pónos nods, observing the knight for a few seconds before continuing. — My tower crumbled. Kálos said it was probably a dragon.
One of the silver knights laughs. — There are no more dragons, my dear. Aureon killed the last one. — He says, with a certain admiration in his voice, but also something that sounds like a tease.
The red knight does not answer; he merely takes a bowl of stew for himself. Pónos looks down at her own feet.
Vóros, the black knight, looks at Pónos's dagger at her waist. — Do you know how to use that, girl? — he asks.
Pónos looks at her dagger. — I do. I just don't like to use it. — she replies, unsheathing her dagger.
— Why not? — the knight inquires. — If you know how to defend yourself, defend yourself.
— I'm afraid of getting hurt. — she answers, watching the reflection of the fire on the dagger. — It puts me too close to danger.
— Then learn to use a sword. — he retorts in a quick, dry tone. — Or a spear.
— I don't know if I have the time to learn how to use a new weapon... — she looks at Kálos. — And I don't think I need to right now.
— If you can fight but choose not to, you will always depend on others for your safety. — Aureon finally speaks. — You will never have your own virtue. What will happen if Kálos can no longer defend you? It's not every day there's a red knight nearby.
Pónos falls silent. She looks at Kálos, who is still stroking Ódigos. She says nothing more; there is nothing left to say.