Aiden crouched by the fire, his hands trembling as he fed brittle branches into the flames. The forest was quiet tonight, with only the faint murmur of the sea in the distance. Above them, the stars were thick in the sky, casting a dim silver glow over the trees. The night air smelled of pine and salt, the promise of the ocean city they had been journeying toward for weeks.

  Hermann sat on a log opposite him, his weathered face lit by the fire’s glow. His long white beard hung down to his chest, swaying slightly as he leaned forward to warm his hands. The old knight’s armor, though dented and scratched, still carried an air of dignity about it. His sword, the same one he had carried for years, lay sheathed by his side, its hilt polished from use.

  Aiden glanced up at the old man, wondering what Hermann saw when he looked at him. He’d been a street rat when they’d met—a scrawny boy scavenging in the back alleys for food. But Hermann had taken him in, offered him a place beside him when no one else would. It had been a strange partnership: a ragged hedge knight and a boy with nothing to his name but the clothes on his back.

  And now, here they were, just outside the city that could change their fortunes forever.

  “We’ll be there by morning,” Hermann said, his voice hoarse but steady. “The city by the sea. It’ll be grand, Aiden. Grandest thing you’ve ever seen. Kings, queens, nobles… And a tournament. A chance for old men like me to prove we’ve still got some fight left.”

  Aiden gave a thin smile. “You’ve been saying that for weeks.”

  Hermann chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. “Aye, but this time it’s true. The king’s daughter is to be wed, and they say the prize for the tournament is rich enough to set even a poor knight like me for life.”

  Aiden nodded, though doubt lingered in his mind. Hermann had been chasing tournaments for years, always hoping for that one big win, that one chance at glory. But luck had never been on his side. Still, Aiden couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope at the thought of the city. Maybe this time would be different.

  As he added another branch to the fire, Aiden heard a rustling in the underbrush behind him. His muscles tensed. He turned just as three figures emerged from the shadows, their faces twisted with cruel intent. Bandits. Their ragged clothes and dirty faces marked them as desperate men, the kind who preyed on travelers this far from civilization.

  One of them, a burly man with a jagged scar running down his cheek, stepped forward. “Well, what do we have here?” His voice was thick with malice. “An old knight and his boy. You’re a long way from any help, aren’t you?”

  Hermann stood slowly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “You’d be wise to turn back,” he said, his voice hard. “We’ve nothing worth dying for.”

  The bandit sneered. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that. That horse of yours looks fine enough. And that armor—might fetch a decent price in the market.”

  Aiden’s heart pounded in his chest. He stepped back, his eyes darting between the bandits and Hermann. The old knight drew his sword, the blade gleaming in the firelight. He raised it with a steady hand, though Aiden could see the strain in his tired limbs.

  “Come closer, if you dare,” Hermann growled.

  The bandits laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. The one with the scar raised his own sword. “You’re an old fool,” he said. “We’ll gut you and take what we want.”

  Before Aiden could react, the bandits charged.

  Hermann met them head-on, his sword swinging with surprising speed for a man his age. The first bandit came at him with a wild slash, but Hermann parried the blow and countered with a strike to the man’s chest. The bandit crumpled to the ground, his body twitching as blood soaked the dirt.

  The second bandit, a wiry man with a dagger, circled around Hermann, looking for an opening. Hermann turned, his sword held high, ready to strike again. But before he could, the third bandit lunged at him from behind.

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  Aiden cried out in warning, but it was too late. The bandit’s knife sank into Hermann’s side.

  Hermann grunted in pain, his face twisted in agony. But even as the blood poured from his wound, he swung his sword with a final burst of strength, cutting down the man who had stabbed him. The last bandit, seeing his comrades dead or dying, turned and fled into the trees, disappearing into the night.

  Aiden rushed to Hermann’s side, his hands trembling as he knelt beside the old man. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and thick. Hermann’s face was pale, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

  “Hermann, hold on,” Aiden whispered, his voice cracking. “I’ll—I’ll get help.”

  Hermann shook his head, his hand gripping Aiden’s arm. “No… no help to be had here, boy.” His voice was weak, each word a struggle. “Listen… listen to me.”

  Aiden swallowed hard, tears stinging his eyes. He’d seen death before, on the streets, in the alleys where people died without anyone to mourn them. But this was different. This was Hermann—the man who had taken him in, who had given him something close to a home.

  “You… you’ve been a good lad, Aiden,” Hermann rasped. “Better than I deserved.”

  Aiden shook his head. “Don’t say that.”

  “Listen,” Hermann insisted, his grip tightening. “Take the horse. Take the armor. Go to the city. Find a lord—find someone worth serving. Don’t… don’t waste your life like I did.”

  Aiden’s throat tightened, but he nodded, knowing there was no stopping what was coming.

  Hermann’s gaze softened, a rare warmth flickering in his eyes. “Kneel,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  Aiden hesitated, then did as he was told, kneeling before the dying knight.

  With trembling hands, Hermann reached for his sword, resting the blade on Aiden’s shoulder. “In the name of the goddess… I name you… Sir Aiden,” he said, his voice faltering with every word. “Rise… as a knight.”

  Tears blurred Aiden’s vision as he looked up at the old man. Hermann smiled faintly, the last remnants of strength fading from his body. He sank back, his hand slipping from Aiden’s arm.

  And then, with a final breath, Hermann was still.

  Aiden knelt there in the dirt, the weight of the sword still resting on his shoulder. The fire crackled softly beside him, the shadows dancing in the flames. The world felt suddenly empty, hollow, as if the forest itself had fallen silent in mourning.

  Slowly, Aiden rose to his feet. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his jaw clenched tight. He looked down at Hermann’s body, at the man who had been more of a father to him than anyone else ever had.

  The city by the sea loomed not far off, a day or two more at most. It’s lights flickering faintly on the horizon. Aiden knew what he had to do now. He would take the horse, the armor. He would go to the city. And he would do his best to do as the old man had asked.