crisppey

One sunny day, the wind spirits of the east led their dear friend, an adventurer by the name of Arthur, to the kingdom of Camelot. Yet this once bustling trade epicenter seemed ruined, filthy, fallen. After saving a fox from being bullied by a couple of guards, Arthur was whisked away and found himself roped up in a ploy to overthrow the current tyrant who had taken the throne. Unable to say no to those he could help, he accidentally stayed for longer than intended. Two years. During that time he recruited great fighters, and grew fond of the people there. Eventually preparations were complete, and the resistance stormed the castle. It was a daring battle. Though with the help of the blade of Excalibur on their side, Arthur struck the final blow, causing the tyrant to shatter into fine purple mist. Bout in a moment of shock, the adventurer didn’t notice the loud cheers that erupted within the grand hall, or that the resistance’s founder was trying to get his attention. When he finally turned, Arthur learned the truth of his fate.

They wanted him to be their king.

…Plus, it was also technically law.

Arthur relented, unable to abandon this place he’d grown to love, knowing the guilt would follow him no matter where he went.

Sixteen years passed.

Lots happened during that time. He restored Camelot, did many things, met many people, and grew to ignore his invisible chains in favor of those he grew close to. Perhaps too close to one.

One rainy day, Arthur was sorting through a pile of requests for various things, like stalls who wished to join the upcoming festival and an ask for him to attend the squire Galahad’s upcoming test, when he found an odd looking envelope likely stacked in the wrong pile. Upon opening it, he found an urgent letter from a neighboring kingdom, stating that they wished to settle a trade dispute with a one on one duel. Although an odd request, the king reluctantly accepted. He hadn’t sparred in a while, but it was simply a good duel. What could go wrong?

Arthur found himself lying in the dirt.

It was the day of the duel, and they had chosen the location poorly. Too close to a ledge of rocks, and too close was his opponent’s sword to his armored chest. Instead, it had pierced the stone behind him, rattling the wall of boulders. Arthur admitted defeat, as he began to loosen up his armor to remove later. As the sword began to slide out from between the rocks, the sound of stone shuddering against itself came from above. Realization struck like lightning as he tilted his head up to see rocks craning overhead- Ready to fall. Arthur reacted immediately, making a move to grab his opponent and dash away to safety, but.. No gust of wind met him. Instead, all he felt was a blooming pain. The rocks were closing in, but all Arthur could do in the moment was gawk at the blade in his abdomen. He had accidentally ran straight into his opponent’s piercer, which was held out in front of him. It was immediately removed as the other ran from the steadily approaching boulders, and Arthur tried to follow. But his knees felt weak and he felt as if he was sludge underwater, drowning. His vision rocked as the stones fully toppled, and came crashing down.

He wasn’t sure what happened after that. He could only see a blur of black and red, then purple that surrounded his vision. He felt something heavy on his chest. Then movement. He heard a familiar voice. He could smell something salty nearby. He tasted blood.