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“I WILL OFFER YOU A CHOICE, KEEPER. AN ACCORD WHICH COULD BENEFIT YOU AND ME.” “May we speak plainly? There’s something I wish to tell you before I give my answer.” “SPEAK.” “I stood once to inherit a Kingdom ‘til the cruel hand of fate determined I would be exiled. As a young boy, I learned that the world in which we reside is a fickle place, one which we must make sense of. I endeavoured from that point on to cry out against fate. To find order in chaos. And I swore to do so whilst remaining true to myself.” “Perhaps My Lord thinks of me a disgrace. Captured by whelps, barely worth his time. But I don’t seek his approval, like a child clinging to his father’s tail…” “No, Azdromoth. I refuse.” And so the Archdrakaar came forth, bearing down upon Albéric - bound in chains, yet unbroken in resolve. Azdromoth would make an example of such defiance. “I WANT A WITNESS TO GREATNESS.” The Keeper’s sister, similarly bound and beaten, would bear witness. Time was no longer a luxury he could afford to waste. Death had finally caught up to him, determined to snuff yet another light that had once burned so bright. So he decided, then and there, that he would make this final moment count. The Keeper would claim a victory in the wake of his defeat. “Lord of Sunlight - Patron of Order…” “I beseech thee. Grace me with your light and bring us victory in this fight.” “Save Her.” His final wish in life, for an intervention, was granted. Order descended, denying Ruin his satisfaction. Even with the Keeper’s demise, the Archdrakaar stood mocked, wounded by the vessel’s hand and robbed of his witness, who drifted to safety. Even as his accursed blade struck Albéric’s head from his shoulders, the pair of them would ensure she lived. Death. Another path on the road we all must take. We fear it because we fear the unknown - the suspense of what will happen next. It was no different for Albéric, adrift in currents beyond the mortal plane. He was lost but not alone, for the fallen knight felt a presence nearby, one he had grown all too familiar with in his years of service. He had only one question: “What now?” Knee-deep in still waters, through which countless souls had passed before, he waited for an answer. His cold hands brushed across delicate reeds, the lake surface shimmering with the faintest glint of sapphire. Gone were the scorched dunes he had once trekked in his mind, punishing and relentless. This place was comforting and familiar - it felt like home. "You will serve, as you have done for those interminable years." It was a callous voice from an indurate, bloodless lord; a bairn clutching at their prized toy, and to Order, Albéric was a chattel - an eternal soldier forced to fight a cruel war in the heavens. “Spoken like a true autocrat.” He raised his voice, not in defiance, but in acknowledgment of his Patron’s nature. “For the longest time, I feared your scrutinising gaze and desire for retribution. But, as the years wore on, I also found myself inspired by your tenacity. Though wrathful, you still cared enough to act, even for those who might seem like insects. For all your cruelty, there’s still a spark of compassion.” “I simply hope you have foreseen what cruelty begets, My Lord.” At the end of the waters, there was a vertiginous drop of light that palpitated into an empty pit; a hang-over of wailing souls trepid in damnation. It was a cross-road, an easy route to prepare for servitude in the Immaculate Palace, whereas the other winding path led only to eternal solitude in darkness. "This blether of words should be focused on somebody who will foster your kindness. To me, these appellations are of no worth." "Enter the light." Albéric’s gaze lingered upon the cross-road ahead. The light offered not the fulfilment he desired but an eternity of ruthless servitude. In the darkness - solitude, but also freedom. Freedom from cruelty and freedom from responsibility. “Responsibility…” The word clung to his consciousness. He could run and save himself from eternal torment, rejecting his fate as yet another cruel arbiter of Order. Yet, what kind of salvation would cowardice entail? The hand of Ruin still gripped the world; there was far more at stake than merely his freedom. “I still have a responsibility to see this through.” Through the waters, Albéric strode towards the light, towards a damnable existence. A necessary existence. He reached forth, fingers stretched as though grasping a sword. His fate was at long last sealed. Yet, the flame of kindness still burned within his soul. “But I also made a promise. I won’t lose sight of myself, for I am a knight of the realm.” A hum resonated from where the light shone, embracing the paladin-keeper in its full breadth and warmth. The Sunlit Lord remained silent in his reprisal, and looked to only embrace a new centurion into his retinue. In the sky, the sun would shine brighter ever so slightly. Art by BasilTheBunny ~~~ Albert Salvian Knight of the Lake 1899 - 1975
