Memoirs of a Silent Knight: I

[Xarkly 12580]

MEMOIRS OF A

SILENT KNIGHT

 

Ser Aleksandr Hieromar Barbanov, the 'Whisper'.

Spoiler

 

[[This info is not public]]

---

 

VOLUME I

My mamej once told me that our family was cursed.

 

Cursed by some old Scyfling, supposedly. I've no mind to give credence to anything supernatural, but looking back at the lives of my parents and siblings, I can't deny the hardships that have befell each of my us. My father - King Sigismund - took his own life when I was just an infant, and my mother preferred to be a soldier rather than parent; my brother Josef gluttoned himself to an early grave, while dear Nataliya was disowned in her pursuit of love; my own twin Stefan has been away travelling for so long that I'm certain that he's met some ill fate, and little Franz still claims he can see and speak to the ghosts of the dead. For a time, I thought sweet Juliya had escaped this curse, but then she birthed a dead child.

 

As for myself, I was born with a broken voice.

 

I could not complete a sentence without spiralling into incomprehensible stutters. To this day, I don't understand the ailment; for others, words flow as tranquil as a river, but my own words knot my tongue. It did not do for the child of a King, especially when it molded me into a recluse who sulked in corners at feasts and balls. Ultimately, I was not worthy of the bloodline I was - for better or worse - born into. So, I trained to become a Knight, though I lacked any gift for arms or warfare. In hindsight, I think it was the romanticism that lured him; the notion of some great warrior, chosen by Godan, who devoted their entire lives to helping the weak and powerless. Surely then, I had told myself, I would redeem myself in the eyes of the world; I would turn from a frail, stuttering third-born child to a decorated Knight, worthy of my father's House.

 

I even found what I thought to be a cure to my stutter - on the eve of my Dubbing, I swore a Vow of Silence before a priest, and since then I have spoken just once to a single person. Despite my inadequacy, I persevered, and was knighted as Ser Aleksandr Hieromar, and, because of my Vow of Silence, I took 'the Whisper' as my moniker.

 

I sit here now in the Karosgrad Tavern, writing these memoirs, having maintained my silence for nearly five years now. My Vow of Silence allowed me to hide my stutter, and, without having to speak and show my ailment, I became confident, and stronger in spirit. I recognize now, though, that this does not come without cost; there are few in this world that I love, and practically none I call friend, but these past years I've been unable to say a word to neither Franz, nor Nataliya, nor Juliya. I did not even speak to my mother the last time I saw her alive. Still, I kept to my Vow.

 

Many have asked me - from Franz, to the Ruthern boy who watched me train in the square just the other day - why I took this Vow.

 

Even if I could speak, I very much doubt I could answer.

 

At first, it was to hide my broken speech - my greatest weakness. It succeeded, but hiding a problem does not fix it. Though, then again, nothing can fix it, so this Vow is a good as solution as any. I would like to claim that another reason was to prove my dedication and chivalry to Godan, but the truth is that I was trying to prove it to everyone around me rather than Him. I wanted people to look at me in admiration of the burden I had assumed in my pursuit of knighthood, and I wanted their respect. I thought it would make me stand out from the other Knights, to be worthy of the second glances I never received in the halls of Ekaterinburg, and to build my own mythos. 'The Whisper', I told myself at night with reverence, 'an icon of Haeseni honour'.

 

Years later, I can see now how it was antithetical to seek honour by doing something as brash as swearing never to speak again purely for the recognition and respect of others. Deep down, I think I knew that at the time, but I justified it for what I think was a much larger reason.

 

I had nothing to say.

 

My sole drive in life was to push out of the shadow of my stutter and inadequacy, and earn my place proudly among my family as a Knight. A Knight did not need to say anything; they merely need to live by their Code of Chivalry, and obey the will of the King and Godan.

 

What tripe.

 

Not long after becoming a Knight, I realized that it was laughable to think life as a Knight could be lived so simply. I trained my entire life and devoted nigh every waking hour to call myself a Knight, and to champion the virtues that all men and women should live by. It was to be both my redeeming burden and rewarding blessing. Despite the training we undergo, I soon learned that the Knight I idolized in my childhood - that chivalric champion I aspired to become with every fiber of my being - does not exist. He cannot exist. This is what I realized the other day when my nephew - King Heinrik - had the Knight Paramount whip a woman who neglected to stand when he entered the room. I desperately wanted to say something, to lessen the girl's punishment for an offence so trivial, yet what could I do? I am bound to act with unquestionable honour, but also obey the King. When the King commands dishonour, what is a Knight to do? 

 

It was then that I realized I did have something to say.

 

It was then that I realized if I lived by that prior belief that all a Knight needed to do was follow the commands of those above, then he cannot truly be a Knight. A soldier, or executioner, perhaps, but not a Knight; not what a Knight should be in my eyes, at least, that being someone who represents what a true and honourable man or woman should be, someone who lives not just for themselves, but for the betterment of others, and not only endures this dark and wretched world, but make it better. As it is, I have come too far. I refuse to accept this ... simplicity.

 

So how can a voiceless Prince become a true Knight in a world like this?

 

I don't know. I suspect no one does. But that does not mean the answer does not exist, and I will find it. For now at least, all I can do is to be the model of chivalry and honour myself, even if I am yet to understand what that truly means, or if it can even exist. To that extent, my Vow of Silence will help. In the absence of speaking and interacting with the world as others do, it has given my a perspective and insight that I think most lack. An understanding - an enlightenment, almost.

 

All my life has led to becoming a Knight - all that hardship, that curse, I endured alongside Franz, Juliya and Nataliya. It has tempered me like heat tempers a fresh sword, and I very much suspect the others would say the same. It is because of that endurance that I will not - I cannot - consign myself to be being this half-knight. With that comes the recognition that the Knight's Code of Chivalry is contradictory in acting with honour, and following the absolute will of the King and Godan, for Kings can be fools, and Godan is silent.

 

Though I will keep my Vow for now, I have found my voice, and I will embody it in these memoirs. I hope to write many of these volumes, not only to record my life, but to note my experiences that will pave my path forward. One day, for better or worse, others may find these pages, for these pages will be my voice.

 

These pages will be my shout.

 

These pages will be my roar.

 

 

[doreebear 601]

Nataliya smiled warmly at her brothers memoir. "I told you Aleks, you were going to be the most honorable Knight in Haense; You would've made a better King than our brother Josef. I am sure our father is proud you, Know that I am proud of you for finding yourself."

 

 

 

 

[ibraheemc2000 2565]

Utayr roamed around seeing the knight here and there offering a smile "what a chad."

(( your post hit my heart with a thud, I salute you heavily it really made my day.))

[MotherLay 815]

   Juliya Ipera smiles fondly as she sees the volume, grazing over her brother's work simply, admiring the writing before beginning to read it. As she reached the first mention off herself, she pauses, folding it quickly and setting it aside, "Another day," she mutters to herself, abandoning her reading for a long walk around the rough mountainous terrain of her home, simply taking in the breeze. 

   She decides to continue the volume another time, when she deemed ready to continue it, though definitely not before downing a large glass of wine.