Chivalry Of A Fallen Knight Novels & Stories

From a distance, the miasma hanging above us might seem like a thick fog, but up close there was fire in these clouds, flame born from anger and death and the claiming of souls. The horsemen have arrived. Nine men on nightmare horses made of pure black smoke, both the rider and steed with eyes glowing gold, faces shrouded in darkness. They formed a chevron with their leader at the point. Tristan, the strongest of Arthur's knights, and the last to fall during the battle for Avalon. To his right are Dinadin, Lamorak, Gawain, and Marhaus. To his left rode Galahad, Palamedes, Bors and…Percival.

He came and knelt. ''Train with me''. He was hesitant to, but he later agreed. We sparred for a few minutes, using the new techniques and moves I learnt from the soldiers training, to defeat him. Although it wasn't easy, because surprisingly, he was good. Breathing heavily, I asked him, ''What's your name''? ''Adrian, Your Majesty. I'm a part of the recruits'' He said, answering my next question. I shook my head. He was good. I sent him back to his post and went for a walk in the garden. I loves the sunflowers. They reminded me of Anita.

Cocking my head back, I take a moment to catch my breath as rain begins to fall from the sky. “Enough.” The Knight commander hisses, removing his armour. “This ends now, between us.” He roars as his long fingers grip his lance firmly. As I collapse to my knees, I watch as the remaining Rions gather their fallen Knights and remove their lifeless bodies from the circle. I painstakingly begin licking my wounds, attempting to heal myself as much as possible before my final battle. A sinister chuckle comes from the Knight's Commander, “typical royal Kindred. Using his gift to cheat death.”

Dylan slashed his opponent's wooden sword until it bounced. 'Fuschia, where did you run to?' Dylan was getting angry when he remembered yesterday he failed to find Fuschia for the umpteenth time. “Ugh, this...is too much! How many wooden swords are you going to destroy, Sir Dylan?!” shouted a knight who fell to the ground. "Next." "There's no next person, sir! Everyone you have defeated!” The knights who just lost, whining. Even though he was a senior knight that other fellow knights relied on.

He didn't want to believe it. Anthony bit his lip, and his eyes trailed to the ground below him. The place looked so ethereal, like a sort of fantastical world. The grass was long beneath him, and the breeze swirled through the blades delicately. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Why?" "I'm sorry I let this happen. I couldn't save you. I tried. I watch you die, George. I tried to save you...avenge you. I thought I was strong enough," The fallen knight stammered out his apology. "I wasn't. I know you probably didn't even want me to fight Solace... I had to. I had to do something." He clenched his fists. "I told myself that even if it was the last thing I did, I would do it for you."

He was the perfect example of a knight in his prime. A woman, which was carrying a child in her arms, passed him. He just looked her, under his eyes and gave a comment that did not fit a knight. The wizard just watched. "Spare a coin," the war veteran pleaded. The knight just passes by the war veteran, not paying attention to his petitions. "What kind of a noble knight are you?" "I'm a lion that doesn't care the opinion of sheep." Chivalry, however, fell to low branches, the wizard thought. This was never the case. What have these times come to?

"That is understood, Princess. Your brother will guide you, and the senior members of the council. You shall be tutored in every state, protocol and diplomacy. I breathed out gradually, with relief and anxiety. Training would be well, but the experience that danger might fall at any moment still caused my breast to contract. When the meeting was over Rowan took me back to the royal hall, and touched me in the small of the back with his hand, showing that he supported me. The rays of the sun penetrating through the stained-glass windows caught the gold embroidery on his robe and made him appear taller and more commanding than I had recalled. I guess you want to know about the knight, he said,

Unable to move from the mixed emotions that were attacking her. “Your majesty!” The knights quickly kneeled, lowering their heads upon seeing the man. Lord Slog, though lost for breath, still catches up, almost tumbling when he stoops down to give respect to his liege. “Forgive us, the lady was quite agile and we couldn’t catch up to her,” the old adviser panted. “Your majesty, we...we apologize for this,” one knight lowered his head further when they heard nothing from their lord. “I’ll handle her,” Alexander nodded towards his subordinates.

He was too lost to see her observing him. Jealousy surged inside Arlet. Only if she could snap his head like he wanted to do hers, she would have done it. Rolling her eyes, she glanced at someone who was profusely smiling at her. He nodded in assurance and Arlet’s anger dampened a bit. The flag was waved along with a gunshot and both of the armours yanked the bridles, charging toward each other at full speed. They both set their lances at each other and just as they collided, the knight wearing a golden armour suit fell off his horse.

The existence of the Dragons, the death of Fabian of Nicundhra, and also Queen Obelia. King Darian’s tears dripped as he touched Queenie’s cheek. Quickly, the girl wiped tears from her father’s face. “No, dad. A king is not allowed to cry. If a king cries, then the people will drown in tears of sorrow.” Then King Darian tried to sit on the bed. Queenie helped him to sit down. The Knights Argo, Finiah, Fewa, and Zetoma approached. They all stood around the bed. Everyone crossed their right hand over their left chest and bent down, saluting King Darian.