Paladin Prologue

It was a peaceful morning.

The sun was bright as it warmed the kingdom sitting inside of large stone walls.

A small home was sitting surrounded by other homes that towered over.

A large man slowly made his way out of the door.

He had long hair pulled back to stay out of his eyes. A short beard of stubble covering the jawline that was impossible to grab and pull. His muscles were large and powerful, but overall the body was slim enough to be agile and quick. The eyes were clean and looked strong, as if he had figured out a way to take care of his vision. His body had faded scars all over. He stood without anything covering his torso and only thin fabric wrapped around his waist traveling down to obscure his hips and large thighs.

He sat on a wooden stool right next to his front door, which creaked from the weight resting on top. Inside his hand was a large wooden mug full of steaming liquid.

A group of men were slowly making their way around the wall in a small formation. They walked in step, a large rectangular shield on one arm while the other held long pikes pointing into the air. Attached to their sides were short swords with golden hilts. They were covered in silver armor that covered their entire bodies, helmets covering everything but their necks. The armor was covered in crests and religious symbols. A cross covered the large shields. The pikes all had very small crosses etched in, the same for the sword hilts.

The formation came to a stop in front of the man, all of them standing still until one stepped forward.

“Sir Frederick, how are you doing this fine morning?” The soldier asked in French.

Frederick, the man sitting on the stool, stared forward onto the group of soldiers.

“I am…” Frederick started in rough sounding French, struggling to continue the sentence.

“No worries Sir. We can switch to English for you. We need to practice.” The soldier replied in English.

“I thank you.” Frederick replied with a smile.

He lifted the wooden mug up and took a long sip, sighing after he pulled the mug back.

“How are your drills going?” Frederick asked.

“We are doing well. We hope you can join us someday.” The soldier replied.

“Well…we shall see.” Frederick replied with a fake, soft smile.

The soldier nodded and then turned back to the formation.

“Enough time for rest. We must continue.” He said in French.

All of the soldiers began to march back in formation as Frederick watched.

Once they were far enough away, the smile on his face faded away.

He slowly stood up and went inside of his small home.

There was very few items of furniture.

There was a desk that had a single book resting on it. Next to it was a small bed, a wooden practice sword and shield leaning against the wooden frame.

The shield had a large cross scratched in.

Another wooden cross was hanging on the wall above the bed.

Frederick sat at the desk and grabbed the book.

He opened it to begin reading.

It was a Bible, used so much that the cover was faded and torn, no longer telling what the book is until you open it.

Frederick leaned back as he continued reading it from the beginning, making his way through as he did everyday.

As Frederick sat and read, he could hear people shouting outside.

Frederick tilted his attention to the door, listening for what was happening.

The screaming grew louder.

Women and children screaming.

Frederick neatly placed his Bible down before grabbing his shield and wooden sword, running through his doorway and looking toward the stone walls.

There was smoke blocking out the sky.

The citizens were all racing wildly past Frederick, running towards the castle sitting in the center of the walled city.

Soldiers were running the opposite direction, dressed head to toe in armor wielding their weapons.

One grabbed Frederick.

“Go to the castle! We’ll take care of this!” The soldier shouted in French, then ran off.

Frederick looked at the castle, then at the walls shaking with fire and smoke growing more and more in size.

Frederick was shaking, clearly unsure of what to do.

Frederick suddenly dropped down to his knees, holding his shield and sword as he clasped his hands together. He very rapidly began to pray, ending with by motioning a cross from his head to his chest.

He looked up at the sky that was beginning to be blocked more and more by the black smoke.

Frederick got back to his feet and sprinted as quickly as he could through the crowd of civilians running the opposite direction.

Frederick made it to the gates, the drawbridge down while arrows were flying all around him. Soldiers that were supposed to protect the city laid on the ground dead, arrows stabbing through their armor.

Frederick was looking at the bodies, but suddenly noticed an arrow heading towards him. He lifted his wooden shield, but the arrow made it shatter in an instant, sending Frederick falling back onto the ground.

He could hear screaming and looked to see an army running across the bridge, storming through the walls as the soldiers did their best to hold a line, but they were being wiped out with ease.

Frederick looked next to him at a dead body, staring through the bloody helmet and seeing the wide open dead eyes.

Frederick didn’t have time to think.

He grabbed the shield and sword off the body, getting to his feet and charging forward as he screamed.

Frederick made it to the front line, slashing his sword into the enemy covered in silver armor that covered every part of their body. Frederick couldn’t see the humans inside the armor, only slashing and stabbing into their seemingly unbreakable armor.

Frederick could feel the soldiers behind him trying to pull him back.

“You are not a soldier! Get to the castle! Now!” They shouted in French right into Frederick’s ear.

Frederick shoved the soldier away and swung the sword as hard as he could, managing to drive the blade right between the helmet and armor, one of the only places that were exposed. Blood began to fire out in a fountain, landing on Frederick as he gasped.

He had never felt another person’s blood on his body before.

He felt his body lock up. He froze. He didn’t know what to do.

He looked forward as more of these faceless enemies charged at him.

Frederick gripped the sword as tightly as he could.

“For my home!” Frederick shouted and slashed the sword wildly, managing to consistently hit the armor wherever it was exposed.

Slicing between the helmets and armor covering their torsos. He managed to stab and hit where their legs and hips met, exposed to allow the soldiers movement. He managed to find places in the armor that were thinner, stabbing right through as if it were a miracle being repeated over and over.

Frederick’s body was covered in his enemy's blood.

The remaining soldiers began to retreat, Frederick standing in front of the army as they cheered loudly.

Frederick was breathing heavily, looking down at his mostly ***** body.

His skin was covered in so much blood, it was as if that was his skin color. He dropped the sword and shield belonging to another man, standing with his body untouched yet still in pain.

He felt a soldier’s arm go around him, making him wince as the soldiers began to loudly shout and sing a French song.

Frederick’s ears were filling with a high pitched ringing as he stared forward.

The city was cleaned of the dead bodies, dumping them into the moat outside the walls and leaving them to float before they began to sink down to the bottom. The citizens had made it to their homes, but they had a large fire while the entire kingdom was crowded together.

Music was blasting as people strum wildly on guitars and played random household objects like drums.

There was a beautiful woman, strumming a harp as people surrounded her. She had long, straight, blonde hair and wore a very expensive dress that was tight to her body as she played. It was the most beautiful sound that the citizens had ever heard.

But Frederick did not join in on the celebration.

He was sitting inside of his home. He was standing ***** while looking down at his Bible.

After he finished a line, he whipped himself over the shoulder with a belt that had rusty nails stabbed through.

His back was bleeding heavily as the nails stabbed deep inside, blood pouring down.

Frederick was gasping and crying, but he continued to read the book.

He did this as he read the entire book. Every single line, whipping himself for the sins he committed.

Frederick made it to the last few lines.

His body was standing in a pool of his own blood. His legs were dead, holding him up despite having no strength left. His eyes were emotionless as he continued to whip himself.

“The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all. Amen.”

Frederick whipped his back one last time.

The belt he used snapped in two. The nails were bent out of place as the entire piece of leather and rusted metal fell apart and into the pool of blood.

Frederick collapsed, staring with wide open but emotionless eyes as he gasped for air.

He wanted to cry, but he had no tears left.

He laid on the ground covered in his own blood, which continued to ooze out of him.

It was as if the sins were leaving through his blood.

The next morning, Frederick was awoken by loud knocking on his front door.

Frederick had pained breathing as he forced himself off the ground.

His blood dried on the wooden floor and covered the torn and tattered leather and broken metal nails.

His legs were still burning, but he forcefully dragged them across the floor before opening the door.

A soldier, dressed head to toe in shining silver armor stood. The sunlight reflected off right into Frederick’s eyes, making him cover them.

“Mr. Frederick, the King wishes to see you.” The soldier said.

“Yeah…okay…” Frederick said in a very dehydrated gasp for air.

The soldier didn’t seem to care or notice. They looked over the ***** body covered in scars and dried blood.

“I will give you time to get dressed.” The soldier said, seeming to ignore the obvious pain.

“Thank you.” Frederick replied, limping to his bed.

He grabbed nicely folded fabric, struggling to even lift his arms high enough to put the shirt on. His body was shaking, the soldier looking around before stepping inside.

They walked, stepping onto the broken belt before they helped Frederick put on his clothing. The soldier looked over at the open Bible sitting on the desk.

Despite the helmet obscuring their face, the soldier seemed to understand what had happened.

“Are you feeling okay Sir?” The soldier asked.

Frederick looked at them confused.

“I feel…fine.” He replied.

The soldier nodded before leading Frederick out of his own home.

The soldier helped Frederick walk through the mostly empty street towards the large castle that stood like a monument, looking down and casting shadows onto the city it ruled over.

“The King…wants to…see me?” Frederick finally asked.

“Yes. It was the most important matter of the day.” The soldier replied, staring forward as he walked.

“But…why?” Frederick asked.

“I am not allowed to say. He will explain when you arrive.” The soldier replied.

Frederick was silent the rest of the short journey, saving his weakened breath.

When they made it to the large doors of the castle, they suddenly opened with loud creaking, making Frederick jump as much as he could with his severely injured body.

The soldier suddenly began to march in a proper manner, Frederick wanting to copy him, but his body was too hurt to do it with the same form and intensity.

Frederick walked through the massive hall, marble floor covered in a long red carpet leading to the King sitting on his golden throne.

Frederick looked around to see the expensive artwork covering the walls. Marble pillars extended upward to hold the massive ceiling above them.

As they drew closer, they could hear harp music growing louder and louder.

It was music that Frederick recognized, but played on a different music. Penser Ne Doit Vilenie.

Frederick rubbed his eyes as he continued to walk alongside the soldier.

The harp music slowly faded, followed by loud applause that echoed off the walls.

“Wonderful! Wonderful! Another masterful performance!” The King shouted loudly in French.

The young woman, long blonde hair flowing down smiled softly.

They stood up and bowed before making their way over to a small chair that sat against the wall. There were multiple instruments surrounding it. Harps, guitars, flutes, and a multitude of others all sitting.

The girl sat and stared down at the floor, the smile fading into one of sadness and loneliness.

Frederick was still looking at the girl, confused when he noticed the soldier kneel down.

Frederick tried to kneel down, but his body collapsed to the floor.

The girl looked up, wanting to stand and run over to help him, but she stayed sitting.

“My King. I have brought you the man who helped us fight off the invaders. Sir Frederick.” The soldier said loudly in French.

Frederick finally got down onto his knees, gasping painfully for air.

“This…thing…” The King asked in disgust.

The soldier looked at the walking corpse that was Frederick. The soldier sighed.

They began to speak very quick French, making sure that Frederick wouldn’t be able to listen or translate in his mind.

The King looked at Frederick, curious and softly nodded.

The King slowly stood up.

The golden throne seemed to move, revealing that he was wearing an outfit made entirely of gold. Golden fabric covering golden armor as he moved slowly, stopping right in front of Frederick.

“Do you believe he could be a worthy soldier?” The King asked.

Frederick turned to look at the soldier, seeing his reflection in the silver helmet. The soldier didn’t turn to look at him.

“He will need training, but I am confident that he will be easy to teach. He will be more dedicated than even myself.” The soldier said.

Frederick softly smiled.

“Alright…you will be his tutor. I put my trust in you.” The King replied, snapping his fingers.

The soldier quickly got up to his feet. Frederick tried his best to, but his body was too weak.

The soldier helped him stand.

Frederick stared into the eyes of The King, who was looking him up and down.

“Don’t disappoint me.” The King said in a stern voice before holding his hand out.

Frederick looked down at it, then grabbed it firmly to shake his hand.

Frederick couldn’t help but turn his gaze to the young girl, who was watching everything that was happening.

She had a soft smile as she stared at him, red beginning to appear on her cheeks.

Frederick smiled back, still shaking the hand of The King.

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