Chapter 3:

Eagle and Sparrow

Slay Your Fantasy


"I must say, you delivered quite the spectacle, Clement!"

"Admittedly, the sheer force of my weapon was a surprise to myself."

Two sets of metal greaves clap against the stone flooring of the castle as Duncan and I exit the throne room. This room is nearly as large as the one behind us, but lacks the detailed decorations of marble and glass.

Armed soldiers watch over the lesser hall, some watching our approach while others stare down the large panes of glass. They salute with their spears when Duncan passes and return to their watch when the prince waves. A loud thud echoes throughout the space as the massive stone gates hide the king and his audience.

"Forgive my skepticism. Were this a battlefield, I would be struck dead by my ignorance. There is no place for us ordinary soldiers to doubt a Blessed Knight."

The air surrounding this nation's prince is not the same once the grand doors behind us shut. I feel no attempt at intimidation within his demeanor and his words are spoken with trained respect. His lips continue to smile, but they are filled with the humility his father desired.

"To believe we are the same age! I have quite a long way to go."

The young man stares forward, but his eyes appear to be lost in his own fantasy.

"You defended our Southern lands with a militia one tenth the size of our usual army. You travelled to the capital city without guards and received recognition from both the goddess and my father."

The fingers of his right hand open and close, revealing no gemstone within its skin.

"Meanwhile, I failed to put down a simple beast uprising and was unable to predict an oncoming attack from monsters at our walls. We minimised casualties, but achieved nothing of worth. Without strength such as yours, there is little I can accomplish."

"I don't believe so."

The guards stationed along the hall watch as the prince stops walking. It takes me two steps to notice his surprise.

"What is it you mean?"

His blue eyes are filled with doubt, something that hasn't left his gaze since that bullet pierced the ceiling. I may not know of his skill in battle, but that does not change my perspective on his concerns.

I turn my gaze to the blue sky printed just beyond the clear windows of this chamber. As the prince joins to watch, a group of small birds flutter past and off into the distance.

"Is the sparrow lesser because it cannot fly like the eagle?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Should the sparrow fly like the eagle?"

While still confused by my questions, Duncan at least attempts to think. With a hand to his chin, he stares out into the open blue.

"It would be impossible. Even with a strong will, the sparrow lacks the wings necessary to fly as an eagle would."

"Does that make the sparrow helpless?"

"Of course not. The sparrow simply flies its own way."

The last sentence leaves his mouth, but the lips don't close. His eyes widened at the sudden realisation.

"Your wings and mine are not the same. A sparrow comparing itself to an eagle? This is nothing more than a fantasy. You need not fly like me to find value in your strength."

Giving a lecture like this isn't my style. I don't find value in stepping in when the weak wallow in self pity. Being lost in their own delusions of perfection, standing still with their unwillingness to fight, it is all their choice. Even if you were to convince them once, they will always regress back into their minds and become useless once more. Those kinds will meet their demise at their own hesitation.

However, this man is not weak. I could tell from the way he carries himself. From the fearless grip against my hand to the dominating motions of his body, he has strength. Duncan had complete confidence in his abilities before my arrival, confidence that has earned him a place as a decorated knight. I may have only just met the king, but he does not appear to be the type to accept weaknesses among his order, even from his own son. Not a single knight beside his throne cowered from my bullet, and the prince was chosen to stand beside them.

"Just as there are threats that only I can defeat, there are battlefields where I do not succeed. Whilst I'm fighting the Titans, who will protect the people within and around these walls?"

"The people within the walls…"

The prince grips tightly to the sword hanging against his left hip. While the blade is never drawn, I can feel the determination flowing through it.

"I cannot command an army necessary to defend such a large city. I cannot demand respect from these soldiers and expect them to follow me into whatever threat lies ahead. You also cannot undervalue the ability to preserve the lives of your men."

The doubt that had sprouted within those blue lenses loses its roots and ceases to remain. His brows are frowned, not with concern, but with determination. My body is suddenly pushed forward as a fearless hand knocks against my armoured back.

"Your words move mountains, Clement! I'm a fool for allowing myself to stoop to such a level as to doubt my training and the faith placed in me by our people!"

The cry of metal resounds throughout the castle as Duncan slams his fist into his chest.

"You can rest easy in that your place to return to will remain safe."

"I was never concerned from the start. You always had my trust."

My purpose in this world is still uncertain, but I have taken on the mantle given to me. At its core, the duty of a Blessed Knight is to protect the people. Even for an elite agent, this task is impossible alone. These 'Titans' apparently require my strength and I will attempt to defeat them as commanded. However, I cannot guarantee the protection of every citizen under the care of this castle. Having to divide my focus between fighting and actively defending would not be efficient.

This nation has a prince that is more than capable of fulfilling that role as a protector. Relieving him of his unnecessary concerns will make my mission easier and increase the odds of success. In my past, missions failed from even the slightest hesitation of my fellow agents. Those men and women often met their end and threatened to also bring down those of us who remained. In this line of work, absolute confidence in your abilities is a necessity. If you lack that confidence, make preparations until success is a guarantee in your eyes.

"We have dallied for too long!"

Duncan walks past me and towards the second pair of gates in this hall.

"My father instructed me to serve as your guide around the city. We have much to see before the sun sets!"

"Your assistance is greatly appreciated. However, I must make one request."

He stops with his hands planted against the sturdy gate. I can feel the air forcing itself between the vertical crack as I stand beside him.

"I would like to keep my identity as the Blessed Knight a secret for now. The title must adorn my achievements before I can claim fame."

"Incredible! You are a true knight, Clement!"

The prince reaches a hand into his pocket and pulls out a black glove. The fabric is light and flexible with enough tightness to hold firm against one's hand. Attached to the back is the emblem of a white rose against a golden shield.

"You may not wish to wear your new distinction. However, I insist that you at least bear the crest of my family. The citizens should know that we stand at your back."

My hand and the crimson gem are encased in black. The fabric feels soft against my skin without hindering the movement of my fingers. I place the concealed hand against my chest, as I have done many times since I arrived.

"It would be my honour to represent this castle and its king."

"I know you will wear it well. But enough pleasantries! The city below awaits!"

The meaning behind that last statement does not become clear until the creaking hinges shed bright light onto me. The entire city comes into view as if my wings are spread hundreds of metres above the ground.

"Once again, welcome to Melior!"

Dorey
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