The heat of the sweltering summer sun permeated the empty fields and luscious forests. The sound of horses galloping echoed through the rustle of the quiet forest nearby. Two units of trainee knights were on their journey to save a skilled blacksmith from an apocalyptic disaster.
They had no time to waste. Each second that passed only made them seem to be traveling faster and faster. The castle from which they came was too far to be seen, hidden behind dozens of rocky mountains and a veil of light mist.
After traveling for a couple of long hours, they were finally approaching their goal—a settlement formed of three small villages. From a distance, nothing seemed odd about it. It seemed the knights had arrived early, before anything happened.
A young boy riding on the back of a majestic black horse looked toward the nearing horizon with a hopeful look in his eyes, his expression nervous.
Riven couldn't wait to arrive at his hometown—to find his family and tell them to evacuate toward the castle.
Close to him, another boy clad in the light armor of the trainee knights was watching him. Noticing Riven's expression, he wanted to comfort him, but he knew that nothing he said would help, that everything that needed to be said had already been said. Instead, Roger simply steeled his resolve to finish the mission and help Riven look for his family.
Elsewhere, another young boy rode on a striking silver horse. He was a knight-in-training belonging to Unit 48. He watched the members of Unit 0 closely, inspecting them as if to learn everything about them, with an intense, focused look on his handsome face. Streaks of golden hair peeked out from under his helmet.
The two units entered another forest—the last one separating them from their destination. There was a certain tension in the air.
"As soon as we're out of the forest, we will split up. Unit 0 will head for their target, while we will head for the western border of the settlements to prepare for combat."
A strong voice resounded in the silence of the forest. It exerted a commanding force that seemed to cut through the tense atmosphere and alleviate the pressure. His next words ignited the flames of ambition in every soldier present.
"Nobody is allowed to perish under my command. We will come out victorious and live to fight another day!"
Sir Ewain raised his sword into the air as the trees parted before everyone's eyes. They were out of the forest. The villages were in sight, and the two units were already splitting up, each going their own way to fulfill their given mission.
"Listen up. As soon as we secure the target, we get the hell out of here. If our intel is correct, this place will be removed off the face of the earth soon. So this is our last chance," Sir Gareth spoke loud enough so that every member of Unit 0 could hear him.
There was, however, one person who wasn't paying attention to the meaning of his words.
Riven froze at the mention of his hometown being destroyed. All he wanted to do was disobey orders and rescue his family right this moment. But before he could split from the group, two horses and their respective riders blocked him.
"Riven, I know what you're thinking, but they'll be fine. We'll save them—and everyone here."
Right as Nicolaus finished speaking, another voice sounded in Riven's ears.
"Riven, I am not lying to you when I say that we know what it feels like to lose your family. And as long as we're here, we won't let anything happen to them. We might have just met a few days ago, but to us, you are family!"
Roger essentially screamed, hoping his words would persuade Riven from abandoning his duties and doing something foolish.
Another boy clad in heavy armor was watching this exchange with a frown on his distinguished face. He didn't wish to get involved, but his friend's family was in danger. He bid his horse to speed up—to catch up to their captain.
"Captain! I'm sorry to ask, but would it be possible to at least try to save the residents of this place before we leave… of course, after we secure the target."
Percival sounded almost desperate.
"I know what this is about. And honestly, even if none of you had family here, I'd want to protect these people. But you have to understand—just being here is too dangerous with what's to come. I don't think we can spare the time and effort, and I can't risk losing another unit."
Sir Gareth's voice was filled with melancholy as the words left his mouth.
Disappointed, Percival felt slightly outraged.
"Then at least tell us what the danger is."
Sir Gareth frowned. The expression seemed to fit his face a lot more than a smile.
"You are not permitted to know. I'm sorry. All I can tell you is that it has to do with Verdglas, and that not even the true Knights of the Round Table would stand a chance against it."
Percival's expression darkened. Thanks to his family, he knew more about Verdglas than the average knight. Perhaps he knew even more than the captain. But he didn't have much information to go off of.
He thought: If not even the true Knights of the Round Table are enough, then the danger has to be at least of the seventh category—maybe even eighth.
A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered stories of terrifying monsters that could tear open the sky and shatter mountains.
The unit soon arrived at a small, run-down house connected to a humble forge and shop. The stares they received from the residents were mixed. Some were curious. Some scared. Some even happy. Others simply went home and locked their doors.
People from outside the kingdom's main city knew that getting involved with knights could cost them their lives if they weren't careful—so they preferred to stay away whenever knights showed up.
Sir Gareth approached the shabby door and banged on it a few times before shouting,
"Master Graham, we have come to bring you back to the castle as per His Majesty's orders. You are to come with us—whether peacefully or by force."
For a while, nothing happened. Then the wooden door creaked and opened. An older man with a thick beard stood in the doorway, staring into the knight's eyes.
"I'm not interested in the Knight King's charades. You can tell him to come to me if he needs anything. I'm not coming back to the castle."
Before he shut the door in the knight's face, his gaze drifted to the ones standing behind him. After a quick glance, he noticed an oddly shaped hilt of a sheathed sword on one of the knight's waists.
He stopped himself and thought for a moment.
"You know what, I'll come—but let me talk to the boy first."
Sir Gareth was stunned by the old man's sudden change in attitude. For a moment, he was confused about what he meant—until he remembered that Riven had said he knew an old blacksmith from this village.
The old man walked out of the house and approached one of the knights standing with his back toward him.
"Hey, Riven, what are you doing back so soon? Did you come to give me back the sword?"
The old man snickered as Riven turned around to face him.
"Hi, Uncle Graham. I just came here because you didn't say goodbye when I left."
Riven smiled at him.
"Brat," the old man muttered under his breath. "So, how is the sword? Did you get to use it yet?"
Riven's face flushed with embarrassment.
"Actually… I didn't. Not yet. I mean, it's only been, what, a week since I left?"
The old man nodded in disappointment.
"So you should've had a week to use it."
Riven laughed nervously.
"Anyway, we should get going. The sooner we get you out of here, the sooner I can go see my parents."
Sir Gareth nodded at Riven as they started walking toward the horses.
"You should have seen how much your mother was crying when you left. She still hasn't gotten over the last time one of her children left home to become a knight."
Riven listened to the old man's words, and after a moment, answered in a soft voice,
"I miss him."
"I miss him too. He had such a way with words—and the way he swung a hammer. I would've made him my apprentice if he came back."
The old man laughed coarsely.
With their first mission completed, the new Unit 0 headed toward the forest from which they came, waiting to regroup with Unit 48.
Riven asked multiple times for permission to visit his family and was refused each time. New orders stated that they wait for the other unit and leave together as soon as possible.
Sir Gareth wasn't happy with the order he had to give, but the mission—and survival of his unit—was more important than trying to save some doomed villages.
He thought that if he told them about what's to come, maybe they would have enough time to run. But he also thought that not telling them would let them live their last moments in peace.
Obeying orders, they waited—for what felt like multiple hours. But the other unit never came.
The air grew heavier.
Something was coming.