Elias had grown accustomed to the stillness of his life. The forge had become his sanctuary, a quiet rhythm of hammer and anvil, the sound of metal shaping beneath his hands a steady companion. His work brought him peace, and peace, he had come to realize, was enough. The world beyond his humble village seemed distant and irrelevant now.
It was a bright, cloudless morning when the village children found him, as they often did, playing in the small green patch by the well. They chased each other in wild circles, laughing and shouting as they tugged at his tunic, begging him to join in their games. Elias had no heart to refuse. He scooped a young girl into the air, laughing with her as she squealed, her small hands wrapped around his neck.
"A knight among children," the widow Elena teased from the doorway of her cottage, a sm ile curving on her lips. She had been trying, unsuccessfully, to win his attention for months now.
Elias grinned back, wiping his brow. "A knight, yes, but one who's forgotten his armor."
"Perhaps I could lend you mine," she said, her eyes twinkling in the way that always made Elias chuckle.
He flashed her a quick smile before turning back to the children. The carefree joy of their laughter stirred something inside him - something he hadn't felt for a long time. The world seemed simpler when they played. And for a fleeting moment, he wished he could remain in this small, quiet life forever, free from the shadows of the past.
But even in the village, the weight of his old life lingered, and eventually, the day called him back to the forge.
He spent the afternoon working with the steady rhythm of a craftsman, the heat of the fire and the clang of his hammer easing his thoughts into a familiar quiet. But just as the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the cobblestone streets, a boy came rushing toward him, breathless and wide-eyed.
"Sir Elias! Sir Elias! The King's messenger is here!"
The boy barely had time to catch his breath before he thrust an ornate scroll into Elias's hands, his face beaming with excitement. Elias's heart skipped a beat - what could the king possibly want with him? He had left all of that behind. A knight's life seemed so distant now, a forgotten story he had put behind him.
Yet, curiosity piqued, he unfurled the letter, eager to see what news awaited him. The fine parchment crackled in his hands, and as his eyes skimmed the words, his pulse quickened with expectation. His thoughts raced - what could this be? Perhaps an invitation to something grand, a royal request to join a new campaign? Or maybe...
His eyes froze. The words on the page became a blur, and his pulse slowed to an almost unnatural thrum.
There was a silence in his mind as the letter fell from his hands, drifting to the ground.
The boy was still smiling, unaware of the storm that had just descended upon Elias. But Elias was no longer looking at him. His face had gone pale, his expression unreadable.
"Is something wrong, Sir Elias?" the boy asked, still grinning.
Elias didn't answer. He simply stared ahead, his lips pressed tight, his mind racing, the blood draining from his face. His hand trembled as he reached for the letter again, gripping it firmly in his hands, unable to tear his eyes away from it. Every word seemed to burn through him, but he could not look away.
Suddenly, a loud shout pierced the air, drawing his attention. A scream from the other side of the village broke his trance, but Elias didn't move. He just stood there, the letter clutched in his fist, the air thick around him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think.
The boy ran to check on the source of the commotion, and Elias stood there, frozen, as the rest of the world continued on, unaware of the turmoil inside him. His heart was heavy, the air too thick, the evening light now cold.
The letter felt like a curse in his hands, a weight that would crush him. He turned and stumbled toward his small cottage, not sure of anything, not knowing what to believe anymore. The peaceful life he had once dreamed of felt suddenly far away.
Elias returned home that evening, his mind still a tangled mess of confusion. His hands, still trembling from holding the letter, mechanically unlocked the door to his cottage. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but when he stepped inside, there was a figure waiting in the shadows.
It was Elena.
The widow from the village stood just inside the doorway, her figure outlined by the dim light of the single candle burning on the table. Elias had barely registered her presence, but her soft voice pulled him from his haze.
"Elias," she said, her tone a mixture of concern and something else - something more intimate. "I was looking for you… I - "
He didn't hear the rest of her words. In one swift movement, he was across the room, his lips finding hers, hungry and desperate. He didn't stop to think. His emotions, raw and torn from the letter, demanded an outlet, and she was there. She responded eagerly, her hands moving instinctively to his chest as they sank deeper into the kiss.
It wasn't love. It wasn't even desire. It was need. A need for warmth, for something - anything - to dull the crushing weight of the realization that Galena was gone, that the world he had known with her would never be the same.
Without a word, he pulled away from her lips and led her toward the bed. She didn't ask any questions, only followed him with a quiet eagerness, her face a blur of expectation. Elias didn't feel any joy, any satisfaction as the night unfolded. He just needed to forget. Forget the emptiness. Forget the funeral. Forget Galena. He held onto her like a lifeline, though he knew she wasn't what he needed.
The next morning, the soft light of dawn crept through the window, the faintest glimmer of a new day. Elias awoke with a start, his head heavy and his thoughts clouded. His gaze fell to the figure beside him. Elena, still asleep, her hair spread out across the pillow, her breathing slow and peaceful. For a moment, he didn't know who she was. The previous night had blurred everything. He couldn't even remember her name.
The guilt hit him then. He had used her to fill a void, and now, in the quiet of the morning, he felt nothing but emptiness.
Sighing deeply, he slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her. He dressed quietly, the sound of his clothes rustling the only noise in the stillness of the room. As he buttoned his tunic, his eyes fell once again to the letter on the table.
Elias sat heavily at the small wooden table in his cottage, the letter still clutched in his hand. His breath felt shallow, his fingers trembling as they unfolded the parchment once more. He couldn't pull his gaze from the words, each letter searing into his mind, each syllable like a dagger.
"By royal decree, you are summoned to the castle to pay your respects to Galena the Radiant, fallen in her final act of bravery. Her funeral will be held at the Hall of Heroes."
His throat went dry. The words seemed to lose all meaning as his vision blurred. Galena… gone?
It didn't make sense. She was invincible, indomitable. He had seen her face death countless times, had watched her laugh in its face. How could she have fallen? The woman who had been so strong, so fearless - how could she be reduced to this? A funeral? No, it couldn't be true.
His hands clenched the letter so tightly that the parchment threatened to tear. He swallowed hard, trying to breathe through the sudden surge of panic.
The Hall of Heroes. That's where they'd all gather, to honor her. But to him, it felt like a cruel mockery, a hollow honor for someone who didn't deserve to be gone.
His thoughts spiraled. His mind rebelled, refusing to accept it. Galena, his friend, his companion, the one who had stood beside him through every challenge, every battle, every terrifying moment - she was dead? It didn't make sense.
With shaking hands, Elias set the letter down on the table, its words still hovering in his mind, mocking him.
He was paralyzed. He couldn't understand how this had happened. Why didn't anyone tell him? How could they not have informed him sooner? He had to see her one last time, had to understand what happened. He couldn't just let this be the end of her story, could he?
His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the letter. The shock hadn't fully worn off. He couldn't - he wouldn't believe it. Not until he saw it for himself. Until he saw her body, until he could say goodbye.
He stood up abruptly, leaving the letter on the table. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, of questions that had no answers. He couldn't stay here, not now. Galena was gone, and everything in him screamed that he had to find out the truth. He had to go to the castle.
And so, with the letter still burning in his mind, Elias made his way out of the door, determined to face the truth, though he wasn't sure he could bear it.