A knight rides into his home village only to see that it’s destroyed. He sets his horse into a unkept stable, so he can continue travelling along the narrow cobblestone path. Houses crumbled and burned down. In the town square he comes across a mass grave filled with the people he grew up with, old friends he hoped he would see again. Across the plaza, an old acquaintance stands there watching him. She looks as if she is about to cry, but the tears that are building up were not those of happiness or sadness. These were tears of anger.
“By the gods, what happened?” asked the knight.
“You left and well,” she motions towards the town in shambles, “this happened.”
“How? When?”
“It happened a little while after you left.”
“Yesyesyes, but how?”
“The new lord, the one you hated, was playing two sides. He waited for you to leave, then he brought his armies to destroy the whole damned village.”
“Where is everyone? There’s not a soul here.”
“There are still some people here,” she points to a house with an old woman looking at the knight. The expression on the woman’s face was disappointed, “but most of the survivors emigrated to other lands, or captured.”
The knight looks around in absolute horror. All around him are the ghosts of men and women he could call family. All around him are memories. All around him are just the moments with friends and family that made him into the person he is at this very moment.
“You could have helped, you know,” she interrupts his train of thought. “You could have stayed. Helped fight them off.”
“I didn’t know this would happen,” he manages to mutter, “all of this. I didn’t trust him to take over, but I never thought… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” she purses her lip in an attempt to keep her voice down, “Don’t say that, it doesn’t fix the mistake, in fact, it doesn’t help anything or anyone here at all.”
“It was a mistake, I admit it-”
“Stop.”
“But I was offered to be a knight for another lord, one with better conditions that was provided here, so-”
“So you leave the place that you were raised in. The place that made you a man for material gain?” she interrupts once again.
“This place did not make me a man.” he growls.
“How old were you once you decided you would go away?”
“19, but age doesn’t make one a man or woman, it’s the opportunities the man takes and the experience he’s gained from those opportunities.”
“So then, you’re still a boy?”
He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t really know how to so he just stands there completely silent.
“I guess you still are.”
“I’m still growing-”
“What a poor excuse.”
“Well, what would you like me to do? I can help rebuild, I can help protect from further attacks, tell me what I can do so I may make amends!” he screams with his voice quivering from all the dread that he feels seeing his dead friends and townsfolk.
“There is nothing for you here. There is no help you can give. And there is no forgiveness. The only thing I want you to do is leave.”
“No, plea-”
“Leave, you bastard, leave! You left us here to die, you left us with that maniac, and now you think you can help? We’re lordless, landless, we can barely survive off of whatever the crops could yield! This is your doing!”
“I didn’t know.”
“Leave.” she walks away.
The knight stands there watching her leave. He’s frozen to the point where any action would have taken a massive amount of effort. He wants to look away and after some time, he can feel tears forming but he can’t get anything out. One of the worst feelings known to man is the anticipation of an outburst, but it never seems to happen. Finally he manages to squeak something out.
“I didn’t…”
“By the gods, what happened?” asked the knight.
“You left and well,” she motions towards the town in shambles, “this happened.”
“How? When?”
“It happened a little while after you left.”
“Yesyesyes, but how?”
“The new lord, the one you hated, was playing two sides. He waited for you to leave, then he brought his armies to destroy the whole damned village.”
“Where is everyone? There’s not a soul here.”
“There are still some people here,” she points to a house with an old woman looking at the knight. The expression on the woman’s face was disappointed, “but most of the survivors emigrated to other lands, or captured.”
The knight looks around in absolute horror. All around him are the ghosts of men and women he could call family. All around him are memories. All around him are just the moments with friends and family that made him into the person he is at this very moment.
“You could have helped, you know,” she interrupts his train of thought. “You could have stayed. Helped fight them off.”
“I didn’t know this would happen,” he manages to mutter, “all of this. I didn’t trust him to take over, but I never thought… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” she purses her lip in an attempt to keep her voice down, “Don’t say that, it doesn’t fix the mistake, in fact, it doesn’t help anything or anyone here at all.”
“It was a mistake, I admit it-”
“Stop.”
“But I was offered to be a knight for another lord, one with better conditions that was provided here, so-”
“So you leave the place that you were raised in. The place that made you a man for material gain?” she interrupts once again.
“This place did not make me a man.” he growls.
“How old were you once you decided you would go away?”
“19, but age doesn’t make one a man or woman, it’s the opportunities the man takes and the experience he’s gained from those opportunities.”
“So then, you’re still a boy?”
He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t really know how to so he just stands there completely silent.
“I guess you still are.”
“I’m still growing-”
“What a poor excuse.”
“Well, what would you like me to do? I can help rebuild, I can help protect from further attacks, tell me what I can do so I may make amends!” he screams with his voice quivering from all the dread that he feels seeing his dead friends and townsfolk.
“There is nothing for you here. There is no help you can give. And there is no forgiveness. The only thing I want you to do is leave.”
“No, plea-”
“Leave, you bastard, leave! You left us here to die, you left us with that maniac, and now you think you can help? We’re lordless, landless, we can barely survive off of whatever the crops could yield! This is your doing!”
“I didn’t know.”
“Leave.” she walks away.
The knight stands there watching her leave. He’s frozen to the point where any action would have taken a massive amount of effort. He wants to look away and after some time, he can feel tears forming but he can’t get anything out. One of the worst feelings known to man is the anticipation of an outburst, but it never seems to happen. Finally he manages to squeak something out.
“I didn’t…”