A Lonely Knight

The dirt path through the forest had suddenly featured stone—and not natural ones.

Carved stone.

A sign of life, human life at that. Sora hadn’t seen human life in a full day! Not that he cared, but a nearby village could provide some temporary interaction. Plus, Sora had completely forgotten something of great importance for his journey. A map.

Even now, he floated endlessly through the Jade Forest, relying only on a paved stone as a hint of human life. Eventually, he stumbled on a pole topped with a lantern—and then two, three, and so forth. He had found it. Civilization.

Deep in the reaches of the endless trunks and mazes, a cleared outing featured a small village along the riverside. Sora stepped from out his place in the trees, revealing the warm sunshine he had so dearly missed. Birds fluttered, wings glinted in the rays. The water tickled the shoreline, and kids played with buckets in its now deeply blue color.

The path to the village was paved with stones. A tiny bridge marked the only spot to cross the river into town. Conveniently, it was closed for maintenance.

“A stone bridge, in perfect condition… closed for maintenance. Figures,” he muttered to himself.

He took his cloak off, and wrapped it around the top of his staff. He chucked it over the river, just barely out of the flow's reach.

He dove in without hesitation, and the cool water tickled his skin. He swam to the other side in breast-strokes, eventually stepping into knee deep water, with his boots on the stone below.

He hated wet socks, and now had two of them.

I’ll just have to add socks shopping to my short list of supplies needed. Don’t think I packed spare socks. More cakes too, he thought.

Entering into the village, a large sign read “Welcome to Riverdel.” It was a tiny little community, but outgoing. The people all chatted, and the sounds of distant hammer clanking rang through the air. A distant dog barked in unison with the hammer.

“Like music to my ears,” chuckled Sora, smiling as he walked through Riverdel. Some eyed the newcomer, unsure of a wandering mage. Some had never seen one before. What could he say, he’s rare.

He passed solidly supported shops in search of a shopkeeper—or anyone for that matter who had snacks and a map.

One shop caught his eye.

“Dusty’s Drawer,” he whispered. A name he thought laughed at, but would most likely forget in the near future.

He gave a solid knock, before entering. A man stood behind the counter, arms outstretched onto the wood before him.

“Mornin’ traveler!” His voice was cheery enough to make Sora follow suit.

“And good mornin’ to you, counter-man!” Sora said, offering a large grin.

“Name’s Dustin boy. Anyways, what can I do for ya?”

Sora searched the arrangements of the shop. It was tiny, but had a hefty range of assortments, including…

Chocolate cakes.

He made sure to pack a few in a basket he had found laying around. He also spotted a tattered map of Joni, dotting every major landmark and city. Left off a few villages Sora had known about, so anything small will have to be searched for. The map itself was large. He had to pull it down, and stretch it like a scroll. Furthest on the west of the map, Aetheria stayed. Above the letters, it held a crown, clarifying it as the capital of Joni. Sora set it down, sprawled out, and grabbed a quill and ink from Dustin’s counter. He felt Dustin’s prying eyes behind, but he didn’t mind. He circled Aetheria in the deep abyssal black, before returning the quill and ink where it belonged.

“Y’know, traveler,” Dustin started, his half-lidded eyes slightly annoyed. “I would’ve preferred if you bought the map before circling the largest wording on it.”

“I’ve got it under control,” Sora dismissingly waved. He pulled his pockets, and out fell two Jonias. Exactly what he needed.

“There you go, good sir,” he stated, passing them along the counter. They slid right in front of Dustin, and he met them with a sly smile.

“You just spent your last two coins, didn’t you?”

“No,” Sora responded, turning to the door. “I simply never gave them to you.”

“Wha—” Dustin began, looking down at the counter, before frowning disappointingly.

“Really?” He asked, peering at Sora, who had now turned back to him with a mischievous grin.

“Sorry, force of habit. Here, no illusions.”

He placed down two real coins onto the counter, raising his hand—proving there were no tricks involved.

“I’ll be off,” Sora said, giving a faint wave before closing the door behind him.

Dustin played with his new Jonias, staring at the door that the wanderer had just left through.

“This is why I hate mages,” he said, before shoving the golden coins deep in his pocket.

Sora left the shop with a new bundle of items. His excitement existed for the cakes, but the map was useful too. He trudged along the streetline, admiring an approaching garden of flowers to his left. Inside was a beautiful gardener woman with red hair, and piercing blue eyes. He approached with a lazy confidence, before an overcasting cloud covered the sun’s beams. With a casual flick, Sora turned the cloud away, bringing back the solar light.

The woman watched the event unfold, slightly impressed.

“You’re a mage?” She asked, eyes fixated on his staff.

“What gave it away?” He responded,a half smirk forming at his lips.

She tilted her head to the side, questioning if he was serious or not.

“Probably the staff. Now, can I do something for you?”

Sora gave his staff a quick glance, then a slap on his forehead. Following that, he took a breath and regained his confidence.

“I was just hoping the day would stay kind to you, madam.”

“Oh it has,” she responded, raising her hand. The ring finger had a ring. Go figure.

“Ah… understandable!” He said already mid turn. He gave a wave, before continuing down the street. The woman just shook her head in disbelief, a chuckle escaping her lips.

Sora opened his map, checking off the next location on his journey.

“Finish through Jade Forest, and then it looks like we’ve got the Rolling Hills,” he whispered, still advancing.

Sora folded the map and tucked it beneath his cloak, letting the village fade behind him. Riverdel’s sounds softened with each step—laughter thinning into echoes, hammer strikes dissolving into birdsong. The stone path narrowed, giving way once more to packed dirt and scattered grass.

The river curved alongside the road here, calmer now—its surface catching the afternoon sun in lazy ripples. Just beyond the bend, the outskirts waited. The place where villages stopped pretending the world was safe.

Sora hummed quietly as he walked, idly spinning his staff between his fingers. Then he heard it.

The unmistakable sound of steel. It wasn’t clashing or frantic, but controlled.

He slowed to a halt, eyeing the path ahead. Just a little further down the road, past a stand of low trees, a figure stood in the road.

A knight.

Not the polished kind you’d find guarding palace gates—this one wore travel-worn armor, scuffed and dulled by miles rather than neglect. A red cloak hung from his shoulders, frayed at the edges, fluttering lightly in the breeze. A beast of claymore rested point-down against the dirt, both hands folded over the pommel.

He wasn’t blocking the road—but seemingly waiting.

Sora stopped a short distance away, brow lifting in mild curiosity rather than alarm.

“Well,” he said lightly, “either I’ve taken a wrong turn, or Riverdel’s started handing out knights as parting gifts.”

The knight didn’t move at first. Then he raised his head slowly.

A great helm shielded his face from the midday sun. His body was still, the type of stillness earned through nights without rest and roads without answers.

“Aveion,” he said calmly. “And no. Riverdel doesn’t give me anything.”

The man’s voice told Sora that the knight was younger—likely mid twenties. Sora tilted his head. “Ah. Independent contractor, then?”

Aveion didn’t budge, but the slight presence of a chuckle escaped his lips.

“You could say that.”

Silence settled between them, not awkward, just… measuring. The river whispered nearby and leaves rustled overhead.

Aveion finally spoke again. “You’re heading west.”

“Very observant,” Sora replied. “What exposed me? The map?”

Aveion’s attention flicked briefly to the edge of parchment peeking from Sora’s cloak. “Among other things.”

Sora grinned. “Well, I was hoping my mysterious aura would do most of the talking.”

“That,” Aveion said, adjusting his grip on the sword, “and the staff.”

Sora sighed dramatically. “I really need to start leaving that thing behind.”

“You shouldn’t,” Aveion said quickly—then paused, clearing his throat. “I mean… if you’re going where I think you are.”

Sora studied him now, more closely. The dirtied armor… the hilt of his sword. The way his stance never fully relaxed.

“And where do you think I’m going?” Sora asked.

Aveion hesitated. Just for a breath. “Aetheria.”

Sora’s smile softened. “Got me. Most impressive.”

The knight nodded, as if confirming a long-held suspicion.

“I’m headed that way too,” Aveion said. “Or… trying to be.”

“Trying?” Sora echoed.

Aveion glanced down the road ahead—the Rolling Hills barely visible in the distance, green waves stretching toward the horizon past the remainder of the Jade Forest’s vegitation.

“Not every road is kind to lone travelers.”

Sora followed his gaze, then looked back at him.

“Funny,” he said. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

Aveion finally straightened, lifting his sword and resting it across his shoulder.

“I’m no mage,” he said plainly. “But I can fight. And I don’t turn my back on people who don’t deserve it.”

Sora blinked, then smiled. It was slower, but more genuine than last.

“Well,” he said, extending a hand, “I’m Sora. I make questionable decisions, occasionally bend the weather, and I bake a mean campfire cake.”

Aveion looked at the offered hand for a moment before taking it, grip firm but careful.

“Pleasure,” he replied. “I’m a knight of… nowhere, I suppose.”

Sora laughed. “Nowhere’s a great place to start.”

They released hands, standing side by side as the road stretched onward. The wind shifted, slightly kicking outwards to the next destination.

Sora adjusted his pack. Aveion fell into step beside him without another word. Neither said it aloud—but both felt it.

The road ahead no longer felt quite as empty.