The Knight of Three Hairs...
Hey,
It's been a while since I logged in and it feels good to come back...
I also brought you a gift, which is a short story that you might enjoy...
The Knigh of Three Hairs
Throughout the remnants of time, knights were born to be saviors and the antagonists of the devil. Courage, passion, and order had to be carried out; it was the duty of any knight. Long ago, there born a young boy in the little village of Flourish and so the echo of his name crossed the whole Kingdom of the Two-seas. A prophecy was told that he would be a shining Knight, but in a new mirror. The boy’s name was Amylian and it means ‘The Excel of the Soul.’
Time has passed and the hero had grown into a fine, handsome young man that all the girls of the village would commit awful deeds such as butchery in order to have him and so that was the wonder of his life.
“Young man, thou shalt ignite a battle, and prosecute a future in which this Kingdom of the Two-Seas has to go through,” the mayor of the village, Akram, who was wise in all matters gave thoughtful words. His white beard, his wrinkles, and the soberness of his eyes had an aura as if visible to naked eyes. Around the table sat four other men – Sages, who helped rule the village with Akram. The first man, a thief who quit two years ago and since he had an experience of how thievery worked, they hired him. He was a competent man after all. The second man was a villagers’ killer - a title not to be confused with knights for knights sometimes kill in the name of justice - who had also a dwelling experience in killing and how killers way of thinking so they had to hire him in order to prevent any massacre to occur. The third man was a very calm man -a spy not from the village- whose descendant came from a family that inhabited the Kingdom of the Two-Seas one year ago. The fourth man was a strictly religious person who had four wives and divorced three of them and then remarried three women and divorced one of them, and then divorced one of them to marry two other, younger women only to divorce his first wives to remarried again two other younger than the last ones. As a devout and respectable person, he had been made a sage for his knowledge in religion. Women of the village considered him the only person whom God bestow prophecies upon.
The Knight stood like a statue beside the table and the five of the sages looked amazingly on his robust stature. The elder sage, the wit and the mind, said to him: “Thou art a Knight and thou knowst best that knighthood is overcastting not once with rage. Let be thus known that knighthood is such a duty of purpose, of gaining control over one’s self, a fulfilling of king of ambitions to change the world. In battle, thou shall drinkst the devil’s blood to bring peace.” The elder sate and allowed the Knight, Amylian, to speak.
“Me thanks thee for thy marvelous words and an honor I hath taken on receiving insight from thy lips. As a Knight of the Kingdom of the Two-Seas, fervent eyes shall I hold not, and fury shall grip my heart not and be as it may, my soul shall conduct and stir our boat of liberty and steep the tenacious hate to the deep where a legend has it that an elegant flower reside, purifying through ages its visitors and offering an eternal life of peace. Hear mine words councilors of Flourish, as a Knight, expect no ignominious defeat and evil I shall expelled off this land,” so the Knight with so much vigor spoke as his eyes burned with images of a bright future and thus, he turned to the others and spoke to them only with his confidence.
“Now Sir Knight, thou shall take leave and head to the castle of King Hamorai. He is expecting thy presence.”
“Pardon me, then, Sires.”
So the Knight set out for a journey to demolish the works of the devil that was ravishing the Kingdom of the Two-Seas and provoking flames to burn out the Kingdom. It was such a pernicious hand that had to be truly sliced. Amylian rode his horse and gave the call of knights.
After two days of the departure of the Knight, a dissention inflamed in the village amongst the five sages; the former thief was said to have stolen the Scepter of Liberty of the village that kept it safe and handed secretly to the former spy, who, as an expert, demanded that it should be delivered to the high person in command of the Kingdom and so it was known the religious sage had spies of his own that spied on his fellow men that in turn, they exposed the trickery of the thief and of the spy. That made the elder sage to decide their fate by executing them on public, but, unfortunately, ends and misfortunes come from where one might expected them not. Before the issue was released, the elder sage died of a heart attack in his own house.
“So he died and no one now should be allowed to know any of what had been delivered,” the spy spoke, setting in the same chair, in the same table, in the same room where all five sages gathered.
“But you stole the Scepter,” the devout man accused the thief. “Return it to where it belongs or we might get exposed to the anger of God.”
“The Scepter I hold in mine hands has a great power, and once, in a dream, I saw a raven flying with Scepter and throwing it on my house,” the thief spoke.
The spy said nothing, but he looked satisfied. The rest stared at each others and then the pious man spoke as he stood up and stroke the table in a hard manner with his hands, “I shall take leave for people now are gathering in my house to ask me questions.” He left and after him the rest.
Five days have passed the Knight was ordered by the King to go south and engage the devil in battle to determine the fate of the Kingdom. That battle began. Amylian swiftly crossed his sword, and devoutly stroke as hard as his faith can push him until he was able to make the edge of his sword meet the devil’s forehead and drink its blood with satisfaction as was told by the elder. But something have not reached Amylian’s expectation; his face began to deform; his shoulders and chest started to ache him; wrinkles snaked through his face; and his hair had fallen and only three hairs left on his head. He heard a voice in his head; it was the devil’s own, “I have again arisen after forty-two long years. Obey mine command for the elders have cheated on thee and make thee a puppet. Blind art thou who sees truth not. Go back to thy village for as I said, forty-two years have passed and old thou art now.”
At first light, the Knight wanted to ride his horse, but the horse was dead and moldy. So it took him twenty two days to reach the village of Flourish only to find rubbles and pessimistic trees bowing to each other. Ravens were picking on dead bodies.
“What in God’s name happened here?” he thought. He approached the elders’ council room only to find the four of them alive and well.
“You came back Sir Knight,” said the thief, not looking very surprised.
“What happened here?” he asked and looked doubtfully into their eyes.
“God hath decided to punish those stupid people for believing in us, not God himself,” the religious man uttered.
“And then lightening began to strike each house,” the spy spoke.
“Only to leave us alive,” the killer commented. “And dead those poor souls.”
The Knight could believe it not; he immediately drew his large sword, but he could not hold it in a firm manner and then it fell on the ground. They all laughed at him, and they said to him, “Only fools! Only fools!”
So the Knight kneeled and the three hairs danced on his head, and tears streamed in the river of his wrinkles. His armor melted. Then, after three days, the sages left the village and headed for another one only to repeat the cycle of life that people will not ever learn how not to believe.
The Knight’s Tale ended…
“The End”
Regards,
Ali Makki AKA Amylian
