The Knight of Old

The knight knew that his days were numbered.
On the eve of battle he roamed the empty walls of the once joyous castle, its great, grey halls making him feel smaller than the trial before him. As dusk began to fall, the noble knight looked over the wondrous green fields surrounding his lord's fortress. Every sound was drowned out by the bright heaven-sun. The orange-red sky was illuminated by the earth's immensely bright sky-candle, and not even the clouds could subdue it's failing glory. darkness chased it across the heavens. And thus in the calamity of cold and beauty the knights heart fell with its sun. The daylight gone. His life-days waning. Long had his heart longed for the joys of life, but also for the glory of the Lord. His life soon over and gloom approaching he savored this, the last sun set he would witness, this glimpse of fleeting beauty. Hence the knight lowered his head in humble submission not to the lord of this land, but to the Lord of the universe in agonizing surrender releasing his spirit to the arms of the Lord before the battle of doom and the his day of reckoning.
And thus his heart settled. His mind darkened and dreamt of the fell deeds to come. His mighty sword of iron, long by his side, he looked on not as a companion, but as an object of the world, doomed to lay useless by its masters side long after its blade wears blunt. He glanced at his mail shirt in apathy, its soft iron slinking sounds no longer giving him assurance. Finally, he stared blankly at his tunic, woven in his lord's royal colors. By next day's end it would not be more than a rag marred with battle-gore on the field of battle. In his mind, the words of his fallen comrade rang, "Nought shall remain of this world. Nought but empty halls and broken spears. Do not mourn my passing, for I am being called to a higher service." The warrior looked up in awe felt sorrow and breathed the evening's air deep into his chest. At last he saw the sun valiantly flourishing it's last light-beams as a farewell to all it had seen and loved on its sky-path across heaven against the darkness that followed. A tear he shed for all that awaited an all that had past. The knight, bound in his grief swore to meet his fate with such an end. An end which would be remembered long after his war-cries fell silent and his people scattered. Not for his glory, but his Lord's.

The knight dismounted his noble helm, looked towards the darkness which had just slewn the sun and whispered in a voice of utter defiance, "So be it, that this is the end of my days." He closed his eyes, and met his destiny ere the sun rose.

The wind kicked up. The small, golden banner flapped fearfully in the wind, anxious over what awaited the spear it was attached to. As the sun fell in brilliant autumn colors, the world was illuminated in a vibrant aura. Darkness impended. The blood-thirst of the swords had stilled for but a moment to honor the solemn fading of the blue sky into red - white sun into orange. Tumult was to follow. The horses snorted their last breaths of battle bereft air. The wind gave out with a final pulse and fluttered into the distance. Fell deeds would follow. Then the noble riders, on the edge of the night, peered down into the darkness. Glittering armor they could see and foul speech reached their ears - the clanking of metal implements as the darkness deepened. Then the bravest among the riders of light stepped forth from his band. His mail shirt of interwoven rings shone golden in the dusk-light. In battle-bold words he spoke. "Times of darkness have fallen on our homes! I see despair in your hearts, for it is in mine also. Long wave we seen this battle coming. Long have we strode towards it in heart-heavy grief for the circumstances of the end of days. For this is the last of your life days! The enemy must be slain! For the price of defeat is too great! Ride now! Embolden your hearts! Be bold under helm! For this is the end! Make known to them strength of the men of Rhömir! Make known to them your grief! Use your despair and turn it to battle-fury! Forge in their hearts the fear of your blade!" The hero then raised his mighty spear. "For this is the end of days! For glory! For wrath! For ruin! For vengeance! For a red sun's rising!" The brave warrior's war-horse rose up on its hind haunches and let loose with a neigh from deep within its breast, as the warrior spewed war-words with all his might, raising his spear on each surging of the word, "Death! Death!" And on the final utterance of doom the war-band said together with all hope lost and all dark thoughts giving power to their fury in fierceness of heart, "DEATH!" And thus they descended the hill, with sun's dim light failing behind them, galloping with all haste down into the dark of the enemy's forest of spears.