The Knight King entered his courtroom, accompanied by Grand Advisor Liam and Sir Cole. "Sir Cole, take a seat," the Knight King commanded.

  Sir Cole bowed and obeyed, his eyes attentive.

  "Cole, I have a crucial mission for you," the Knight King began. "As my most trusted knight, I rely on your discretion. Regan's men threaten our capital, and internal unrest plagues our realm. Noble knights are suspect, but you, Cole, have earned my trust."

  The Knight King paused, inviting Sir Cole's response.

  "Your Grace, you honor me," Sir Cole replied, "but what mission have you assigned to me?"

  "Consider this carefully, Cole," the Knight King continued. "Darlington, a fabled city in the North, once flourished with wealth and knowledge. My father spoke of its grandeur, but about half a decade ago the northern winds concealed it, and it vanished. We've sent knights and explorers to find it, but none have returned. I charge you with uncovering its fate."

  Sir Cole didn't hesitate. "Your Grace, my answer is yes. I'll discover the unknown, loyal to the crown, even unto death."

  The Knight King smiled, satisfied. "You embody the realm's ideals, Cole. Your survival and success in past missions assure me of your triumph. You are an icon in your hometown Westwood and to our realm."

  Sir Cole requested, "Your Grace, may I depart?"

  The Knight King nodded, glancing at Liam. "Yes, go. Remember, secrecy is paramount. Not even fellow knights must know, as you will be traveling alone with no group."

  Sir Cole stood, knelt, and vowed, "On my life and Chirurgeon Breaus', I swear silence."

  The Knight King confirmed, "It is done."

  Grand Advisor Liam handed Sir Cole an updated map. Sir Cole examined it briefly, bowed, and turned to leave.

  As he departed, the Knight King wished him, "Good luck, Sir Cole."

  Sir Cole smiled and replied, "Thank you, my Knight King."

  With that, Sir Cole exited the courtroom.

  IN SIR EDRIC'S CHAMBERS

  Within Sir Edric's chambers, Sir Dwayne savored his wine, remarking, "The Knight King blames himself for O'Reilly's prison escape, wishing he'd executed him sooner."

  Sir Edric's expression turned introspective. "I blame Sir Barrys of the West and myself. Twice, I lost O'Reilly."

  Sir Dwayne's curiosity piqued, "Do you wonder why the Knight King frets over O'Reilly's escape?"

  Sir Edric nodded, "Yes, why the concern? O'Reilly's just one man."

  Sir Dwayne sipped his wine, "That's what we said about Regan initially, yet now he threatens the Knight King's throne. O'Reilly, a rogue knight, may spark similar chaos."

  Sir Edric remained silent.

  Sir Dwayne inquired, "Noticeably absent, Sir Barrys didn't attend the knights' gathering. Is he injured?"

  Sir Edric confirmed, "Arrow to the neck during the chase for O'Reilly."

  Sir Dwayne's tone dripped with malice, "Hope he doesn't recover."

  Sir Edric's gaze narrowed, "He will, regardless."

  Sir Dwayne sighed, "I only seek the realm's best interests, but distrust Sir Cole and Sir Barrys."

  Sir Edric paused, lost in thought.

  Sir Dwayne added, "You concealed your feelings for Lady Attendant Miley until the coronation feast. I was shocked...everyone was shocked."

  Sir Edric stood, boots echoing, "You're not my father!"

  He walked away to tend to Soul Snatcher, his horse. Sir Dwayne smiled wickedly, draining his cup.

  The tension between them hung heavy, foreboding future conflicts.

  IN THE CARE ROOM

  Sir Cole stood tall, clad in armor, helmet in hand, ready for his perilous journey. He entered the chamber where Sir Barrys lay motionless, bandages wrapping his neck.

  Sir Cole sat beside him, voice filled with emotion. "I wish you could hear me, Barrys. I hope to return and see you smile again. I love you, dear Barrys, or should I say, Sir Barrys?"

  He smiled, gently kissing Barrys' hand. The unconscious knight showed no response.

  With one last glance, Sir Cole departed. Outside, he mounted his horse and rode away.

  Meanwhile, Sir Dwayne watched from his window as Sir Cole Rode away, his gaze heavy with malice. A sinister plot brewed in his mind as he observed Sir Cole vanish into the distance.

  Sir Dwayne swiftly departed his upstairs chambers, donning a hood and mounting his horse to tail Sir Cole. He diverted to the lower ring, the capital's impoverished quarter.

  At a rundown door, Sir Dwayne dismounted and knocked. A voice inside bid him enter.

  Upon entering, he found a naked man amidst ladies. The man hastily dressed, greeting Sir Dwayne with a smile.

  Sir Dwayne stepped aside, his tone urgent. "Carls, I need a word."

  Carls approached, inquiring, "Sir Dwayne, what brings you?"

  "Sir Cole rides to the Great Gate, now closed. He'll wait briefly before departing. I want you to follow him discreetly and eliminate him."

  Carls glanced at the women, who winked invitingly at Sir Dwayne. "Join me instead?"

  Sir Dwayne declined, pressing, "No time to waste."

  Carls hesitated, "You want me to leave now? Triple the pay, or I won't budge."

  Sir Dwayne reminded, "You failed last time."

  Carls assured, "I won't fail you again, Lord Dwayne. Triple the pay, and Sir Cole is dead."

  Sir Dwayne handed over 1500 gold coins. "Success earns you 3000 more."

  Carls accepted, grinning. "Consider Sir Cole dead."

  As Carls readied, the women approached Sir Dwayne, naked and flirtatious. "Join us, Lord Dwayne?"

  One whispered, "We overheard...Sir Cole's assassination?"

  Another proposed, "Pay us, and your secret's safe."

  Sir Dwayne swiftly executed the three women with his sword swiftly.

  Carls returned, this time well dressed. "you killed them all...You couldn't even spare my love shalice, we was to get married."

  Sir Dwayne cleaned his sword. "No time for nonsense."

  Both departed. Sir Dwayne rode back to the Royal Castle.

  Before parting, Sir Dwayne warned Carls, "Don't fail me."

  Carls reassured, "Consider Sir Cole dead, Lord Dwayne."

  Carls rode toward the Great Gate, seeking Sir Cole.

  As Carls approached the Great Gate, he cursed under his breath. "For fuck sake! The gate's open. That fool knight must be long gone."

  The entrance swarmed with people, but Carls charged forward relentlessly, shoving aside onlookers with his horse.

  "Make way!" he bellowed.

  The crowd parted hesitantly, allowing Carls to burst through.

  He scanned the horizon, eyes narrowing. "Where's Sir Cole?"

  With a deep breath, Carls spurred his horse onward, racing into the forest.

  Sir Cole rode through dense bushes and forest, seeking refuge beneath a towering tree. The scorching sun beat down, but the nearby stream offered solace.

  He dismounted, gulping water hastily to quench his thirst. Refreshed, he refilled his water pouch.

  As he turned, a sudden shadow loomed. Sir Cole spun around, alert.

  But it was just a small lizard.

  He sighed, returning to his shade. Picking a stone, he began skipping it across the stream, clearing his mind.

  Suddenly, unease settled in.

  "There's something unsettling about this place," Sir Cole muttered.

  He mounted his horse, riding farther into the unknown.

  The journey weary, Sir Cole halted for the night. Darkness descended, and he gathered wood, kindling a fire.

  He placed his sword beside him and warmed his hands over the flames, singing softly:

  "As the fire goes by... I will never change...

  But as the water goes by... it will make me change...

  If I need some change, and maybe I will ask the fire...

  And if I need some change, then surely I will ask for water."

  Entranced by the dancing flames, Sir Cole's eyelids grew heavy, and he drifted into slumber and slept off.

  THE NEXT MORNING

  Sir Cole rose early, paused briefly, and continued his journey. On horseback, he studied his map carefully and compared it to another, showing the route he'd passed.

  "Is this city even real?" he wondered. "A day's ride and I feel exhausted."

  As he gazed forward, the vast sea came into view. Riding farther, he arrived at the boat dock.

  "I'll take you to the north by sea for 2 gold coins," the boatman offered.

  "May I have a word?" Sir Cole asked.

  "Speak freely, noble sir from the capital," the boatman replied. "You must be wealthy."

  "I need a single-man boat," Sir Cole specified.

  "What do you offer for it?" the boatman asked skeptically.

  Sir Cole pointed to his horse. "This Akhal Teke is worth a fortune."

  The boatman laughed. "Pathetic! Who trades a horse for a boat?"

  "Look closely," Sir Cole said.

  The boatman's eyes widened. "Magnificent! This rare breed is priceless!"

  "Exactly," Sir Cole agreed. "And here's 100 gold coins."

  The boatman beamed, shaking Sir Cole's hand. "We have a deal!"

  He led Sir Cole to the boat, and as he boarded, the boatman warned, "The north's winds and storms can be harsh."

  Sir Cole nodded gratefully. "Thank you."

  "No, thank you!" the boatman replied.

  With a smile, Sir Cole set sail for the northern seas.

  BATTLING THE WINDS OF THE SEA

  Sir Cole grasped the oars firmly, his single-man boat slicing through the northern seas' choppy waters. The sun dipped into the horizon, casting a golden glow across the waves.

  As night descended, darkness enveloped the sea. Suddenly, the wind howled like a pack of wolves, whipping the waves into frenzied peaks.

  A tempest brewed.

  Sir Cole's boat bucked and shuddered, threatened by the raging sea. Undaunted, he clenched his jaw and dug the oars deep.

  "Fight on!" he shouted into the gale.

  The storm's fury intensified, waves crashing against the boat like colossal fists. Sir Cole's muscles bulged as he wrestled the oars.

  Rain lashed down, stinging his face. Lightning illuminated the turbulent sea, casting eerie shadows.

  But Sir Cole refused to yield.

  With every stroke, he defied the tempest's wrath. His boat, buoyant and resilient, rode the waves.

  Hours passed, the battle raging on. Sir Cole's determination remained unbroken.

  As suddenly as it began, the storm subsided. The sea calmed, reflecting the moon's gentle light.

  Sir Cole's weary eyes met the peaceful horizon. His chest heaved, his spirit unshaken.

  "I've conquered," he whispered, victorious.

  The single-man boat glided smoothly, carrying Sir Cole along as he reached the main lands of the North.

  "Finally main land, and a perfect spot to rest." Sir Cole said as everywhere was silent.

  THE NEXT MORNING

  Sir Cole emerged from the darkness of night to a radiant morning, the warm sun shining brightly overhead. Continuing his quest for the elusive City of Darlington, he traversed the rolling hills and lush green pastures. His gaze fell upon a quaint farm nestled in the distance, its small house exuding a sense of rustic charm.

  As he approached the farm, the serene sky transformed into a tumultuous canvas of grey clouds, unleashing a torrential downpour. Sir Cole hastened his pace, his footsteps pounding against the wet earth as he rushed towards the barn. Thunderclaps shook the air, and he knocked vigorously on the creaky door.

  "What do you want?" Weymouth, the grizzled old farmer, bellowed above the din of the storm.

  Sir Cole, drenched from the rain, stood at the threshold, his clothes clinging to his frame. "Might I have a stay until the rain subsides?" he pleaded.

  Weymouth's weathered face softened, and he swung open the door. "Enter," he said gruffly.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Sir Cole stepped inside, gratitude washing over him. "Thank you, kind sir."

  "I am Weymouth," the old man introduced, his voice now gentle. "And you are?"

  "The name's Cole," Sir Cole replied.

  Weymouth gestured to a sturdy wooden chair beside the crackling fireplace. "Sit, Cole. Warm yourself."

  As Sir Cole settled in, the tempest raged on outside, its fury a stark contrast to the cozy tranquility within weymouth's house

  As the rain poured outside, casting a rhythmic melody on the roof, Weymouth gazed at Sir Cole and said, "Well, you don't look like you're from here."

  Sir Cole smiled, his eyes sparkling with the warmth of a traveler. "Yes, I'm actually from the West."

  Weymouth's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Westwood? Well, that's far. I was born here in Huddles Town."

  Sir Cole's curiosity was piqued. "Wow, is this how the weather normally is in Huddles Town?"

  Weymouth leaned back in his chair, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "Well, not really. But for an old hag like me who's seen a lot, the weather started changing many decades ago. Many thought the world was ending; it looked really scary to their eyes, but I'm not moved a bit."

  Sir Cole's gaze stared deeply into the fire, mesmerized by the dancing flames. "You must have seen a lot, old man."

  Weymouth replied with a chuckle, "I'm not that old, just 80 years."

  Sir Cole looked at him, his eyebrow raised. "80 is not old?"

  Weymouth then said frustratingly, "Well, maybe I'm a bit old."

  Sir Cole smiled warmly.

  The conversation continued as the rain poured outside, filling the room with a cozy atmosphere. Weymouth brought up another topic and said, "What brings you all the way from the West to the North?"

  Sir Cole's expression turned mysterious. "I am looking for something."

  Weymouth replied, "What is this something?"

  Sir Cole's voice dropped to a whisper. "Top secret; can't share."

  Weymouth waved his hand dismissively. "Pathetic. I could actually help if you tell me... Well, if you are looking for something and that something is unknown, then you have come to the right place."

  Sir Cole's eyes sparkled with intrigue. "You think so?"

  Weymouth nodded confidently. "For sure, the North itself is the land of unknown."

  Sir Cole listened attentively.

  The rain then seemed to stop, but the wind howled heavily outside. Weymouth looked out the window and said, "The rain has stopped, but it's still windy, and I need to get these Syremyl flowers before the wind takes them."

  Weymouth then left the house, his movements swift despite his age. Sir Cole rushed outside and said, "Mind if I give you a hand?"

  Weymouth turned, a hint of surprise on his face. "Normally, I don't need your help, but I wouldn't mind since you're willing."

  Sir Cole nodded, and together they ventured to climb a hill in the heavy wind to pluck the delicate Syremyl flowers that had grown there.

  As they ascended the hill, the fierce wind howled and whipped around them, threatening to sweep them off their feet. The gusts were so potent that Weymouth, lightweight and vulnerable, stumbled and was nearly lifted off the ground.

  Sir Cole, agile and quick-reflexed, sprang into action. With lightning-fast speed, he grasped Weymouth firmly in his hands, anchoring him to safety. Weymouth's face contorted in terror as he dangled precariously, his life hanging in the balance. One misstep, one relaxed grip, and he would plunge to his death.

  Undaunted, Sir Cole summoned his remarkable strength, wrestling against the tempests to drag Weymouth to solid ground. As they climbed higher, the gale intensified, but Sir Cole's grip remained unyielding.

  Finally, they reached the summit, where the coveted Syremyl flowers swayed precariously in the turbulent air. Together, they carefully plucked the delicate blooms, Weymouth meticulously ensuring every last one was secured.

  Their task accomplished, they began their descent, still battling the unrelenting wind. Yet, with Sir Cole's unwavering protection and strength, they navigated the treacherous slope and got back to the house safely, their bond forged in the heart of the tempest weather.

  Weymouth hastily rekindled the fire, the flames dancing to life as the two men sat down together. An awkward silence filled the air until Weymouth spoke up, "I've got a big ego, but thanks for saving my life." Sir Cole brushed off the gratitude with a casual smile, "No need to mention it."

  As they sat together, the heavy wind had stopped outside, Weymouth suggested, "Stay for lunch, I've got some boiled chicken to cook." Sir Cole's stomach growled in anticipation, and he replied, "I wouldn't mind."

  As they ate and sipped water, a pesky crow repeatedly flew in through the open windows. Each time, Sir Cole offered it scraps of chicken, much to Weymouth's frustration. Weymouth chased the bird away with his hands, exclaiming, "I'd rather feed my chicken to the pigs than those thieving crows! They're devouring all my crops!" Sir Cole chuckled and said, "Sorry, but I've got a soft spot for animals."

  Weymouth shook his head in resignation, muttering, "Whatever."

  Sir Cole stood up, his hunger sated, and announced, "I think I'll head into town, see if I can find something." Weymouth nodded, still seated, "Okay, then." With that, Sir Cole departed for the bustling town square.

  As he strolled through the bustling town, enveloped by friendly faces and the crisp, cold air left by the earlier rain. Suddenly, a familiar figure caught his attention. From behind, the man resembled Chirurgeon Breaus.

  Sir Cole's eyes widened in shock as he tapped the stranger's shoulder. "Breaus...?"

  The man turned, perplexed. "Huh? May I help you?"

  Sir Cole's face fell as he realized his mistake. "Sorry for disturbing you," he said, composing himself.

  The stranger shrugged and walked away, annoyed.

  Sir Cole reflected, "What was I thinking? Breaus passed away months ago."

  Shaking off the encounter, Sir Cole continued his search for information on Darlington. A white crow flew towards him, landing peacefully on his arm.

  "Wait, this is the same crow I fed earlier," Sir Cole exclaimed. "You're just white."

  The crow took flight, guiding Sir Cole to a mysterious location. As he followed, Sir Cole's vision began to blur.

  The earth seemed spherical, and his eyes saw double. A resplendent city materialized before him – a city overflowing with riches and joyful people.

  Regaining his composure, Sir Cole found himself surrounded by concerned townspeople.

  "Are you okay?" they asked.

  Sir Cole quickly snapped back to reality and hastened back to Weymouth's house.

  Sir Cole burst through Weymouth's door, excitement radiating from his smile. "Old man, I think I've found what I've been searching for!"

  His grin faltered as he took in the gruesome scene before him. Weymouth lay on the floor, battered and bleeding profusely.

  "NO!" Sir Cole shouted, rushing toward his fallen friend.

  Before he could reach Weymouth, a massive axe swooped down, blocking his path. Sir Cole dodged swiftly, his eyes locking onto the assassin.

  "Carls!" he growled, recognizing the ruthless mercenary.

  Carls, sent by Sir Dwayne, sneered. "You're not leaving this place alive, Sir Cole."

  The two enemies engaged in a fierce battle. Axes clashed, sparks flying as they exchanged blows.

  Sir Cole parried each strike with precision, his sword flashing in the dim light. Carls' relentless assault pushed Sir Cole back, but he refused to yield.

  Seizing an opening, Sir Cole struck with deadly force. His blade sliced through Carls' defenses, biting deep into the assassin's shoulder.

  Carls stumbled, his axe slipping from his grasp.

  Sir Cole seized the advantage, delivering a swift kick that sent Carls crashing to the floor.

  With a swift, merciless stroke, Sir Cole ended the assassin's life.

  Breathing heavily, Sir Cole turned to Weymouth.

  "Old man, hold on!" he urged, rushing to his side.

  Weymouth's weak voice whispered, "Cole...I... "

  Sir Cole's determination hardened. "Don't worry, Weymouth. I'll protect you."

  HOURS LATER

  Hours ticked by, and Weymouth's eyes flickered open, his gaze cautious. Sir Cole tended the crackling fire, warmth dancing across his face.

  "Thank the heavens you're awake," Sir Cole exclaimed, relief washing over him.

  Weymouth's voice trembled. "For the love of God, who was that barbarian who nearly ended my life?"

  Sir Cole's expression turned grim. "Carls, an assassin sent by someone. This wasn't our first encounter, but he left me no choice this time – you were hurt."

  Weymouth coughed weakly as Sir Cole gently reapplied heat to his wounds.

  "Thank you," Weymouth whispered.

  Sir Cole's eyes clouded with guilt. "No, I owe you gratitude. You were dragged into this because of me."

  Weymouth's concern deepened. "Be more cautious, Sir Cole."

  Sir Cole nodded solemnly.

  Weymouth's voice drifted, exhausted. "I thought you'd found what you were searching for."

  Sir Cole's jaw clenched. "It's gone. Forget it."

  Minutes later, Weymouth succumbed to sleep.

  Sir Cole remained awake, lost in thought, staring into the fire's warmth.

  The next morning, Weymouth awoke feeling significantly improved. He glanced around, noticing Sir Cole's absence.

  "I thought you had left," Weymouth said, stepping outside.

  Sir Cole turned, his eyes locked on Weymouth. "No, I couldn't."

  "You had a choice," Weymouth replied.

  Sir Cole's voice filled with conviction. "Yes, but I chose to stay, protect you, even though leaving might have led me to what I seek."

  Weymouth's expression softened. "Well, I'm sorry."

  Sir Cole reassured him, "Once again, it's not your fault."

  As they re-entered the house, a white crow appeared – the same mysterious bird from yesterday.

  Sir Cole asked, "Can you see the crow?"

  Weymouth shook his head, puzzled. "There's no crow here; are you hallucinating?"

  The crow signaled Sir Cole, who rushed outside, following the bird.

  " Spare me a horse!" Sir Cole exclaimed, urgency in his voice. "This crow holds the knowledge I seek; I must follow."

  Weymouth smiled, his bandaged hand waving in farewell. "Follow your path, and life will reward you."

  Sir Cole mounted the horse and galloped after the crow, disappearing into the unknown.

  Hours passed, and the unlikely duo miraculously reached the lost city of Darlington.

  THE CITY OF DARLINGTON

  Sir Cole and the white crow entered Darlington, he stood awestruck, his eyes wide with wonder. The city pulsated with life, its splendor exceeding his wildest dreams.

  Golden spires pierced the sky, surrounded by towering structures of crystal and steel. Cobblestone streets, polished to a shine, reflected the light of glittering lanterns.

  People dressed in exquisite attire – intricate embroidery, shimmering silks – hurried past, their faces alight with joy. Laughter echoed through the air.

  Sir Cole marveled at horseless carriages, their sleek designs propelling passengers effortlessly. Towering clockwork machines whirred.

  Every corner revealed innovations: water fountains dancing with precision, glowing orbs illuminating buildings.

  Bells tolled, announcing the city's vibrant rhythm. Merchants touted exotic wares: rare spices, luminous fabrics.

  Sir Cole wandered, mesmerized by Darlington's grandeur. "This is the future," he breathed.

  Citizens greeted him warmly, eager to share their world.

  A young lady approached, smiling. "You look so outfashioned, handsome ."

  As Sir Cole strolled through Darlington's enchanting streets, each step revealed wonders surpassing the last. His awe-inspired gaze wandered, drinking in the grandeur.

  Suddenly, a vibrant textile shop caught his eye. Intricate fabrics danced in the breeze, beckoning him inside.

  Upon entering, a voice snapped, "Are you blind? Don't you see the queue?"

  Sir Cole apologized hastily, "Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to."

  A chuckling patron quipped, "Let him skip the line; he desperately needs a new style!" The crowd laughed.

  Amidst the jests, a man with piercing, knowing eyes locked onto Sir Cole. Their gazes met briefly before Sir Cole hastily looked away.

  Unsettled, Sir Cole attempted to leave, but the mysterious man swiftly followed.

  Sir Cole quickened his pace, breaking into a run. Suddenly, something struck his back, sending him tumbling into darkness. Everything then faded to black.

  ...

  Sir Cole regained consciousness, struggling to stand. The mysterious man said, "Ah, awake, strange man."

  Sir Cole's fury-filled gaze locked onto him. "Or should I say, awake Sir Cole of Westwood?" the man added.

  "How...how do you know who I am?" Sir Cole asked.

  "I was there the day you were knighted in the capital," the man replied.

  "Reveal yourself!" Sir Cole demanded.

  The man removed his hat. "I am Sir Godwin O'Neil of House O'Neil."

  Sir Cole's eyes widened. "Sir Godwin! A great knight! You disappeared years ago."

  "Twenty years, indeed," Sir Godwin confirmed.

  Sir Cole smiled. "An honor! How did you find the lost city Darlington?"

  Sir Godwin chuckled. "I should ask you the same."

  He handed Sir Cole an antidote. "Drink, your body's paralyzed temporarily."

  Sir Cole hesitated.

  Sir Godwin reassured, "You're Crazy to think I'd poison you."

  Sir Cole drank and regained composure.

  Sir Godwin sat beside him. "Did Jorak send you to find Darlington?"

  "Yes," Sir Cole replied.

  "I too," Sir Godwin said. "But I haven't found all I seek."

  Sir Cole asked, "What more?"

  Sir Godwin smiled. "Twenty years is indeed a long time."

  Sir Cole offered, "Report back with me to the capital."

  Sir Godwin agreed. "yes I've gathered knowledge, but there's still more to be uncovered."

  Sir Cole said, "More? Well more as happened to House O'Neil if you'd like to know"

  Sir Godwin's eyes stressed. "By the gods, what happened?"

  Sir Cole smiled. "You've missed a lot, the stories are much."

  Sir Godwin nodded. "Let's have a drink at the tavern."

  Sir Cole asked, "Is it safe?"

  Sir Godwin reassured, "Twenty years here, trust me."

  Sir Cole needed a new attire to blend with the people of Darlington.

  "They called you outdated," Sir Godwin teased.

  Both laughed as they left for the tavern.

  IN THE TAVERN OF DARLINGTON

  Sir Cole and Sir Godwin entered the tavern, ordering ale. Sir Cole savored the taste. "Wow, the ale tastes unique here!"

  Sir Godwin smiled. "Wait till you try their wine."

  Sir Cole grinned. "I'm impressed."

  Sir Godwin's expression turned serious. "What's happened to my house?"

  Sir Cole's voice dropped. "Sir Orton guards the ancient knowledge in the icy shores. Your nephew O'Reilly's a rogue knight. House O'Neil's bloodline remains with Orton, O'Reilly, and you. The rest were burnt alive for worshipping the gods, despite the Knight King's ban."

  Sir Godwin's eyes widened. "So, no one worships the gods now?"

  Sir Cole nodded. "House O'Neil's downfall struck fear everywhere."

  Sir Godwin sighed. "Twenty years do bring significant change."

  Sir Cole leaned in. "I must report to the Knight King. We're reclaiming Darlington."

  Sir Godwin cautioned, "Not so fast. Leaving now's challenging. The city's on high alert due to thieves targeting the wealthy. The king wants them caught so bad he is rewarding anyone who catches them or has insights on their whereabouts in the city. They've evaded capture, making everyone suspects. Let's team up, catch them, and gain insight into Darlington's king."

  Sir Cole's brow furrowed. "A king or Knight King rules here?"

  Sir Godwin clarified, "A king governs, limiting knights' power. The Knights here Merely serve as guards, not interfering in politics."

  Sir Cole's interest piqued. "Catch thieves, get rewarded, then spy on the king?"

  Sir Godwin nodded. "Once Darlington's King invites us as special guest for catching these group of thieves we are looking for , we'll spy on him and gather information, then we leave together, and report to Jorak."

  Sir Cole asked, "How do we catch them?"

  Just then, guards stormed the tavern, altering the atmosphere. Sir Godwin swiftly whispered, "Exit through the back door. Meet me here late tonight."

  Sir Cole hesitated. "But I'm unfamiliar with Darlington."

  Sir Godwin urged, "Go now!" as Sir Cole left the scene immediately.

  Later that night, Sir Cole returned to the tavern, searching for Sir Godwin. After minutes of waiting, a faint whisper broke the silence. "Tsshhhh."

  Sir Cole trailed the voice, finding Sir Godwin in the shadows.

  "Sorry to keep you waiting," Sir Godwin said, urgency in his tone. "We're meeting the thieves now."

  Sir Cole's brow furrowed. "Right now? Can you explain?"

  Sir Godwin's expression turned stern. "No time."

  Sir Cole pressed. "Why won't you explain?"

  Sir Godwin's eyes gleamed with determination. "Twenty years in Darlington, yet I've never spoken to the king man-to-man. Tonight's my chance to spy or gain his trust. Follow me, play along, and trust my plan."

  Sir Cole nodded. "Very well."

  With caution, he scanned their surroundings, ensuring they weren't followed or watched.

  They arrived at a dimly lit hideout, surrounded by darkness. A group emerged from the shadows, their leader stepping forward.

  "So, you're the ones joining the Balance Brothers?" he said. "Our brotherhood seeks equality in Darlington, even though the standard of living is great, we want no wealth disparity, there will be no wealthy as everyone will be equals. You share our vision?"

  Sir Godwin bowed, kneeling. "Yes, I do."

  Sir Cole followed suit.

  "I'm Dean, leader of the Balance Brothers," the man said. "Prove your loyalty. What do you offer?"

  Sir Godwin stood. "We'll provide more gold for redistribution. We'll target the extremely wealthy."

  Dean nodded. "When's the operation, and how many men do you need?"

  Before Sir Godwin replied, a loud crash echoed, and guards stormed in.

  "We're caught!" Dean shouted, realizing they'd been betrayed.

  Guards arrested Dean and his gang.

  As they dragged Dean away, he shouted, "This isn't the end of the Balance Brothers!"

  A guard replied, "Save that for the court."

  Approaching Sir Godwin and Sir Cole, the guard said, "Well done! The King requests your presence tomorrow. Citizens like you are highly honored."

  Sir Godwin and Sir Cole bowed respectfully. Their master plan had worked flawlessly.

  THE NEXT DAY

  Sir Godwin and Sir Cole stood before the King of Darlington in a grand audience.

  "Great citizens, we've eradicated the last of thieves and greed amongst us, our great city is now clean again" the King declared. "Our nation flourishes, free from hatred and evil. You two have done your part; now, I shall reward you. Reveal your faces."

  Sir Cole and Sir Godwin unveiled themselves, sparking shockwaves through the crowd.

  "General Godwin!" murmurs spread.

  The king commanded silence.

  Sir Godwin bowed. "Your Majesty, the plan succeeded perfectly. Beside me stands Sir Cole, an outsider knight sent to spy on our great city and find weaknesses. However he is a trustworthy man but his situation is not like mine was twenty year ago, I advise quick action."

  The king raised an eyebrow. "Shall we arrest this spy?"

  Sir Godwin suggested, "Death, Your Grace."

  Sir Cole's eyes filled with regret.

  "You've betrayed the knight's code," Sir Cole said. "Where's your pride?"

  Sir Godwin smirked. "Pride? Behold Darlington's grandeur. I've left House O'Neil behind and every other thing is of the past, i look to the future now."

  Sir Cole countered, "Treachery runs in your family blood; you're no different from O'Reilly."

  The king sentenced Sir Cole to death by the blade.

  As Sir Cole faced execution, he declared, "Godwin, I've sent word to the Knight King. Darlington will fall, bending its knee to its rightful ruler."

  Sir Godwin approached, signaling the executor to wait.

  "There are no Ravens in Darlington, How did you send word to the capital?" Sir Godwin asked.

  Sir Cole smiled. "The white crow."

  Sir Godwin's confusion deepened.

  The king ordered the execution of Sir Cole to be taken immediately.

  Sir Cole met his end with multiple blade strikes, a heroic knight's befitting demise.

  Smiling, Sir Cole's story concluded.

  IN THE CAPITAL

  Meanwhile, in the capital, Miley visited Chirurgeon Bratos in his quarters.

  "Welcome, Miley," Bratos said, looking up from his notes. "What brings you here?"

  "I heard you cured people with strange voices, restoring them to normal," Miley replied.

  Bratos set aside his quill. "Yes, I did, thanks to the Syremyl flowers."

  Miley's eyes widened. "Amazing! Can you help me make one?"

  Bratos asked, "For whom exactly?"

  "My betrothed, Sir Edric, the Dark Knight," Miley replied.

  Bratos nodded. "I can help, but unfortunately, I've used all the Syremyl flowers from Huddles Town to cure folks here in the capital."

  Miley's face fell. "Oh, okay."

  Disappointed, she departed.

  Sir Edric and Miley prepared for their wedding, set to take place in a week. Miley said, "My love, I need to visit the city's busy areas for wedding essentials."

  Sir Edric offered, "Shall I accompany you?"

  Miley replied, "No, you have duties as Lord Commander. I wouldn't want to add to your schedule."

  Sir Edric smiled, rare for him, and said, "Very well, my heart, as you wish." He kissed her hand as Miley left.

  Miley's carriage arrived at her destination, and she acquired the needed items. A man approached, "Young lady, do you love Syremyl flowers? a lot of young lady loves the scent and fragrance and you might not be any different"

  Miley confirmed, "Yes of course I do, but for a different reason."

  The man directed, "Find my friend Gravenberch in the outskirts' black market. Tell him Gildrith sent you, I want him to know I'm the one bringing lots of customers to his shop."

  Miley smiled warmly as she agreed and left the capital. Her carriage sped up, she was very happy to go get the Syremyl flowers, but was ambushed; the driver, horse, and guards were killed. Miley was dragged, speared, and brutally attacked.

  As she lay dying, a man ordered, "Ensure she's dead." An axe struck her face.

  Meanwhile, a raven delivered a message to Sir Edric's chambers. His eyes filled with pain as he read it. He hastily rode Soul Snatcher.

  The heavy rain didn't slow Sir Edric. He arrived at the scene: destroyed carriage, dead bodies, and Miley's lifeless form.

  Sir Edric cried out, "No! Who did this?"

  Sir Edric cradled Miley, shouting, "Nooooo!" An old woman passing by in the heavy rain saw his pain and she walked on, as she said "This is your turning point, what a great man you will become after this."

  Sir Edric wept, holding Miley amidst the pouring rain.

  DARLINGTON CITY

  Back in Darlington, Sir Godwin beamed with pride. "My king, we've hidden from the outside world for 50 years. I, too, came 20 years ago like Sir Cole, but you offered me a chance. I seized it, leaving everything behind. Sir Cole's story won't mirror mine."

  The king nodded. "You've done exceptionally well, Sir Godwin."

  Sir Godwin's expression turned somber. "However, my king, Sir Cole sent word to the capital before dying. They may attack soon, forcing us to swear allegiance."

  The king reassured, "Fear not. Come, I have something to show you."

  In an underground tunnel, the king unveiled advanced war machinery.

  "Your Grace, this is state-of-the-art!" Sir Godwin exclaimed.

  The king smiled. "Indeed, and we'll grow stronger until they find us."

  Sir Godwin's eyes gleamed with intensifying evil intentions.