Chapter Text
Once upon a time, an old king laid sick in his bed. Under his rule, his kingdom thrived but he grew weaker as time passed. He mourned at the thought that his story might be near its end. So each night, he would retell stories of adventures to his granddaughter and each night she listened with excitement. On the final night, the king bestowed his crown to the girl, believing that she would carry on his tale.
Or something like that.
Gwen tightened the hooded cape over her shoulders as she gazed at the image of herself in the shimmering mirror. Magic swirled in the ever-shifting reflection of the glass, this enchanted relic that her grandfather left for her was meant to reveal treasures to find, ferocious beasts to face, or even the occasional damsel to rescue. At this moment, she could only see herself in its plane, taller now and with a face painted with scattered freckles.
“Sigh. Still? Nothing for me yet?” The young queen’s foot tapped on the stone floor as she waited in vain for something grand to appear in the magical mirror. “There’s gotta be something! Anything!”
Instead she heard the echoing call of her aunt bellow her name from the halls, “Gwendolyn, dear! Need you downstairs!”
“Okay, You’re off the hook for now… but there better be some cool dragon adventures in my future when I get back, mirror!”
The now sixteen-year-old Queen of Daventry raced down the stairs until she found her aunt down in the grandiose throne room and standing near the seat that still felt a bit too large for her.
“Took your sweet time, huh?” Asked Aunt Rosella.
“You know me, Auntie. Busy, busy with all the adventuring.”
She chuckled at her sarcasm, “Mirror still blank for you? That thing has always been pretty finicky. You’re just going to have to be patient. Adventure has a way of finding us, one way or another.” She unfurled a rolled up parchment from her hand, showing it to Gwen. “You, however, have some work to do here first.”
A familiar looking flyer, Help Wanted! Only the bravest need apply!
Once Gwen realized it was an ad for a tournament in search of a new knight of Daventry, she hopped with excitement.
“A Knight tournament!? A new one?” She asked, recalling back to her grandfather’s tale of the tournament he entered when he was young. “Are you serious? Do I get to-”
“Nooo.” Her aunt interrupted, “Even if you weren’t already the Queen of Daventry, addendum 978824 states you have to be at least eighteen to enter.” Gwen groaned at that silly age limit, knowing that her grandfather was only sixteen when he entered. If she was old enough to be queen, why couldn’t she compete in some good ole’ cut-throat tournament fights. “You will be overseeing the competition and declaring the winner. Simple, right?”
“Yeah. Simple and boring.”
“It’s part of the job, your majesty.” She mocked and handed the parchment over to her dissapointed niece. “You’ll have enough to deal with already, and you can take this chance to cheer your cousin Gartholomew on.”
“Yeah, I guess…”
Rosella playfully ruffled the top of Gwendolyn’s head, “Thatta’ girl! Auditions are taking place in the castle’s theater tomorrow. You need to greet all the competitors, explain the rules and attend the parade along with them. Got it?” Gwendolyn nodded with a sigh. “Wonderful!” Rosella gave the girl a kiss on the head before returning to a more stern demeanor. “Don’t be late.”
The young queen took the opportunity to venture out of the castle for a bit when her aunt wasn’t looking. Attempting to memorize the tournament rules along the way, though it was easy to get sidetracked. She marched along gravel pathways until reaching a hidden cave in the woods behind the castle grounds. Shielded by a curtain of vines, Gwendolyn wandered inside and looked around the damp, moss-covered cave.
“Shrekee?” She called out, her voice echoing throughout the cave. “Where’re you hiding at, big buddy?” She was unable to find her scaly companion within, but the soft rumbling in the ground hinted that he must have been wandering somewhere close by.
She smirked, reaching into one of her cloak’s many pockets to pull out her bait of choice, “Oh no… what will I do with all these sugarshrooms?” Suddenly the rumbling stopped, “I guess I’ll just eat them all myself!”
From the top of the cave, a gigantic beast leaped onto the floor with a heavy thud. The adolescent dragon, now the size of a small house, let out a low, giddy roar at the smell of the sugary treats.
“Ah! Sit! Stay!” The dragon followed the commands, happily chirping when she finally rewarded him with the sugarshrooms. “Good boy, Shrekee! At least you’re easy to keep happy! Here’s hoping you never have to worry about public speaking and disappointing your dragon aunt.”
Gwendolyn took a seat beside the beast, letting out a long sigh. Fond memories of finding him as a baby reentered her mind, along with her first time successfully shooting a bow.
“I wonder what Taskia is doing right now. I bet she doesn’t have to deal with stuff like this.”
Shrekee chirped a response.
“No way, a cool girl like that probably goes on adventures daily.” It had been at least a year since Taskia last visited Daventry, it was supposedly a long trip to her homeland. Gwen had considered writing letters to her, but she still wasn’t very fluent in her language yet and there weren’t many decent teachers. The only time she could really learn was when Taskia was around, the two of them were surprisingly good at communicating despite the language barrier. The longer she thought about it, the more she began to miss her.
The queen finally noticed the darker color of the sky, “Oh zards! It’s already getting late! I have to head home.” As she ran out through the cave entrance she shouted one last time to her trusty companion, “Stay out of trouble, okay big buddy?”
The hulking beast only yawned. Gwen chose to take that as a “yes.”
The morning of the tournament, Rosella all but dragged her niece out of the castle just to make it to the theater on time. She even took it upon herself to choose an outfit for the young queen, an elegant lilac dress and wove her hair into a long braid. It didn’t exactly match Gwen’s style, but she knew better than to argue with her aunt about it, advice she had gotten from her father.
A varied crowd of knights funneled into the theatre, and Gwen had to meet each of them when they arrived. Luckily she had rehearsed her one line on the carriage ride over, “Welcome to Daventry, hopeful knight! I wish you the best of luck this year!” Out of the crowd only a few were noteworthy, a pompous teenager with a silky red sash spoke with overconfident arrogance, a rather bulky man whose voice was completely muffled by his own helmet, and a pair of lanky twins in identical armor. She heard their names but quickly forgot the lot.
It was looking like a good amount more than the four knights her grandfather had to compete against. Though it still disappointed her more to remember she wouldn’t be able to throw her own feathered hat into the ring this time. It seemed to be much closer to thirty even before her cousin Gart finally showed up.
“Gart! There you are! You’re really competing today?”
“Well certainly, one of us has to try and uphold the family name. Give the rest of this lot some challenge too.” True to form, he wore less armor than most of the others there and displayed the family’s royal crest with pride. As upsetting as it was to be left out of the fun, she was happy to cheer her cousin on in her place.
“You better win some for me, okay?”
“Haha! Will do, your majesty!”
The two bumped their fists together, not noticing the looming figure creep up from behind Gart. Standing a good few inches taller than him was a statuesque warrior donning red-tinted armor with a dark gray sash draped over the shoulder and sinister helm that obscured their face.
“Oh uh, sorry! Welcome to Daventry, brave knight! Or, uh hopeful knight.” She cursed under her breath. Who could she fumble over her ONE line? “I wish you the best of luck and uh, don’t forget your commemorative tote bag!”
The armored warrior stood silent, staring directly at the young queen. After some time, they finally moved, placing one fist into their open palm and bowing their head before leaving. Gwen and Gart both remained in quiet confusion as they watched the stranger leave.
“What’s his problem?” Gart mumbled. Gwen instantly recognized the gesture and sat completely dumbfounded.
No… It couldn’t be.
Gwen rod atop an open carriage with Rosella behind the parade of hopeful knights as they marched through the city streets. Cheering crowds formed along the sides of the road to see the hopeful knights atop their giant snutes. The queen couldn’t stop looking back at the strangely silent warrior who hadn’t even given their name. Her cousin took every opportunity to ride up near Gwendolyn to air his suspicions to her. “Perhaps a spy? An assassin?” Gwen was skeptical of Gart’s many suggestions, but she remained cautious.
Seemingly only after hours of marching through the city streets did the parade finally conclude at the center of Daventry, right before the statue of the late King Graham. Gwendolyn stepped in front of the crowd to announce the first trial, the Test of Chivalry.
“Each hopeful knight will be tasked to introduce themselves to at least one of their peers and learn as much they can about each other before sundown. Afterwards, they will come before us to answer some questions about their partner. Those unable to gather the information in time will be disqualified.”
Rules needed to be changed due to the higher number of contestants this year but seemed simple enough. Pairs instantly began to form between the crowd of knights. Gwendolyn looked out over the sea of armored faces, spotting Gart and the mysterious warrior both along the edges.
She groaned to herself as she slumped down into her seat, unable to join in on the fun. Though Gwen carefully peered at her aunt beside her, who was busy speaking with some other nobleman. The queen saw her only chance and quietly slipped out from her seat and crept into the crowd.
She navigated through the knights in search of her cousin, though she was too short to see above any of the shoulders around her. Luckily they were all too preoccupied to notice her among them.
As she shuffled through them, Gwen fumbled over the end of her dress and tripped forward. Uttering a quick yelp out before landing against the metal chest plate of that mysterious warrior from before.
Gwen stared up at the armored mask above her, slightly dazed. “Uhhh… You?” As she regained her composure, the queen scrambled to stand up straight. “Yes! You, brave knight. Please excuse my clumsiness!” Gwendolyn conjured up her best impression of Rosella as she spoke. “I don’t believe I caught your name before…”
“Gwen!” Gart voice shouted from behind, “What are you doing out here?” He pulled her back, urging her back towards the stage, “You know this isn’t a place for you.”
“Excuse me?” Gwen questioned back, offended.
“Ugh, you know what I mean, Your Highness. You should be back with Rosella overseeing the tournament, not interrogating this...person.”
The stranger was now leaning back up against the wall, keeping quiet but Gwen could hear a faint giggling coming from them.
“Gart, wait!” Gwen urged him, “I’m pretty sure I know her”
“Her?”
Before Gwen could pry herself from her cousin’s grip, the commotion drew the attention of some of the nearby knights. “The Queen!” The knight from earlier with the red sash yelled out, causing a hush to fall on the crowd. The sea of gawking faces all quietly focused on the young queen. Gwen quickly regained her composure and nervously smiled out at everyone.
The knight with the red sash stepped forward and politely bowed to her, “Dearest Queen of Daventry, surely this is no place for someone regal such as yourself! Allow me to escort you back to your seat!”
“No no, that’s fine! Really.” Gwen stammered.
“M’lady, I insist.” The knight took only a step towards her before the mysteriously silent knight stepped between them, standing a whole foot taller than the sashed knight and with a hand resting on her sheathed sword. “Um, excuse me?” He pleaded, earning no response from the foreboding figure. The red sashed knight whispered to them, “C’mon guy, I’m trying to impress the Queen here. Back off.”
The figure only crossed their arms, somehow managing to look even taller than before.
“You really looking to embarrass yourself here? In front of her majesty? Fine.” He pulled a small rapier from its sheath, and stood ready to battle. “Come and see how you fare against the most skilled young knight in Daventry.” The figure responded by placing a firm hand on their own sword’s handle.
“Wait!” Gwen called out, she slipped out from her cousin’s grip and rushed in front of the mysterious knight hoping to stop the conflict before it starts, “Cut that out! You’re not impressing anyone here by acting all tough.”
The young knight was taken aback by the undignified response from the queen. As soon as Gwen realized her misstep, she corrected herself and stood upright, “ By which I mean, this is the Test of Chivalry. It’s not the time to fight each other.”
The knight reluctantly lowered his blade in the face of the queen, “Dearest Queen of Daventry, please accept my apologies as I meant no disrespect.”
“It’s fine, Sir... uhhh-”
Even behind his helmet, Gwen could feel the scorn in his look as he sheathed his sword, “Rufius of Daventry. The swift blade of justice.” So he was from Daventry, it made the fact that Gwen forgot his name even worse. “As many of us here hail from Daventry, I would like to humbly ask why we allow a foreign warrior into a competition to become a knight of DAVENTRY.”
A grumble of agreement washed in the whispers of the crowd around them as well as some surprised questions.
Rufius pointed the stoic knight out to the rest of the crowd, “This knight in particular hails from some far off land. Completely disconnected from Daventry. He has no regard for our customs or culture. I doubt he even speaks our language. Does he really have any right to be here?”
Gwen could feel her frustration reach its boiling point, she stomped her foot down with a tremendous thud and caught the cocky knight off guard as she proclaimed, “Taskia is as skilled and as brave as any knight of Daventry. She has as much a right to be here as anyone!” The confused looks and whispers turned to surprise as they all learned the true identity of this mysterious knight. Gwen could feel a lingering regret that she could’ve perhaps found a better way to reveal that fact.
“Taskia? So you KNOW this stranger?” Rufius jeered.
Gwen glanced back at Taskia who was remaining completely calm in the face of this aggravated crowd, though she might not have understood what everyone was angry about. Her helmet dipped down ever so slightly and Gwen could almost feel that strong gaze peering down at her. It made her so happy that she might’ve rushed at Taskia with open arms if it wasn’t for the mob at their sides.
The young queen quickly decided to stand firm in her conviction, “Yes! I do!” She sucked in a deep breath of air, mustering up her most authoritative voice, “This is Taskia of Ich-tuwei! The most skilled archer of her age and granddaughter of the legendary Achaka- a fellow knight who gave his life to save our own King Graham of Daventry. Without him, Daventry would not be standing tall and proud to this day.”
The sea of armored faces stood silent, respectfully listening to their queen. Even Rosella has come down from her seat to relish the pride of seeing her niece gain control of the chaos. “A knight of Daventry could come from anywhere, from the noblest to the humblest of us and even from somewhere else entirely. That is the purpose of this whole competition. Now, seeing as this is the test of CHIVALRY- it’s about time to prove to me how chivalrous you all are!”
A prideful chant spurred over the crowd and Gwen basked in it, relieved to see the mood turn positive again. She seemed to have won most of them over, even if Rufius was clearly annoyed. The bustle turned to excitement as they all continued pairing up together. Gwen, finally seeing an opportunity, looked back to Taskia only to see how she vanished. She was saddened for a moment before she figured out where her friend must have gone.
Sneaking away during the commotion was easy enough, but traversing through the secluded forest path was more difficult for Gwen in the cumbersome dress she wore. Again she found the cave, shielded in a curtain of vines and dangling foliage and she called out for her companions, “Shrekee! Taskia!” The silence was disheartening.
However, Gwen could barely hear a shifting in the darkness of the cave above. She picked up a small stone from the floor, tossed it up in her hand a few times to feel the weight of it before throwing it up above. The “Taskia daga!”
Dropping heavily down from the ceiling first came the hefty dragon, tail wagging with excitement. Landing down at Gwen’s feet and running about. Behind her, she could hear the more stealthy drop of someone much lighter. Gwen turned and saw that same masked knight in dark red armor from before. Finally, Taskia removed her helmet and revealed the handsome face of dearest friend, older and with much sharper features and silvery hair tied tightly into braids. She tossed the same stone up in her own hand
The two happily stared at each other before Taskia finally broke the silence, “Missed. Me?”