This is what I am good at.
I return the sword to its place and grab some cloth from my pocket, wrapping it around my head and securing it in a knot.
Darkness settles, immediate and complete.
The straw sacks stand where I left them.
I know the spacing by heart.
I step forward and listen, focusing my senses.
My blade meets the cloth with a dull resistance. I recover and turn, correcting my angle before lunging at the second sack.
I do not rush.
Speed is a useful advantage, but accuracy is what matters.
It’s what stands between saving the lives of your comrades and watching them die.
I shake the thought from my head, lunging at the final straw sack before leaning against it and wiping the sweat from my brow.
I glance through the stone arches, spotting the dull orange haze of the sky as the sun rises. The familiar setting is a comfort, settling the worry building in my bones.
I release a heavy breath before making my way back through the narrow corridors and to the room I can barely call my own, since I spend more time outside it than sleeping in its bed. I arrive back in my quarters, shower, change, and clean my armour.
The same order I always follow.
Routine leaves little room for error.
My quarters are larger than many of the juniors and second in commands, since I have my own wing. The stone arch at the entrance marks the boundary with no need for a guard. The outer chamber is the first room you enter, it holds a long, scarred table, a rack for spare armour, and a cushioned bench I’ve never found the time to sit on. Beyond that lies my bedroom, with a narrow bed resting against the far wall. A single window is set high in the stone wall, it allows enough light to track the passing of hours. A washroom connects to the left with an adjoining room on the other side. Though the space is enormous, enough for at least four people to stay, it is mostly just empty space. With what little belongings I own, it looks almost untouched. When you take the oath to be a knight, there is an understanding that the less you can leave behind, the better. We rarely talk about such matters, but it’s an unspoken rule that exists to prevent wives and children from being left widowed and fatherless. We don’t take a vow of celibacy, but we keep our attachments brief and ensure desire never lingers.
I pull on my armour, the weight a familiar comfort to me, grabbing my helmet and sliding my blade into the sheath at my hip. Hair still a wet, tangled mess, black tendrils clinging to my forehead. I set off for the kitchen quarters, prepared for another day of watching the castle slowly rot.
“Morning, Sir,” Thomas says, the junior knight stopping to salute me in the corridor.
“At ease, Thomas, you don’t need to salute me every time you see me,” I reply evenly. This is not the first time I’ve told him this, but juniors are all the same. I should enjoy it, really: the respect, the power.
But I don’t.
Not anymore.
Not since the kingdom lost all hope and gave up on survival.
“Oh, yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” he stutters out in a rush.
“I’ll see you in the yard for training,” I reply over my shoulder, heading into the dining area.
“Yes, sir,” I hear called back to me down the corridor. Rolling my eyes, I turn into the common hall, the smell of breakfast filling my senses. The food is prepared daily in the main kitchen within the royal wing and brought over in large pots and trays to us in the staff quarters. The knights all help themselves as their duties allow, but breakfast time is always chaotic.
I take a seat at my usual bench. It isn’t literally mine, but habit has a way of claiming things. A shadow forms to my side. I don’t need to look up to see who has taken the seat in front of me. His voice alone marks the end of my peaceful morning and the start of my busy day.
“Is that… an extra mushroom on your breakfast?” he says, his version of good morning, I assume.
“Kael,” I deadpan. I look up to face him, his bright smile beaming at me.
Kael is the Master-at-Arms, one rank below me. Exceptionally capable, but entirely intolerable before breakfast. Unfortunately for me, he is also my closest companion. Though not related to me by blood, he might as well be.
