The Knight of the Spring

Epilogue

I anxiously waited all night, morning, afternoon, and evening for Johnathan to come back. A deep part of me knew that the cycle was over, and I would never meet another Avorstead again. I would go back to being the silent protector of the spring, perhaps being visited once every other century by a curious traveler, or maybe even another knight.
As day turned to dusk, I heard the stairs of my spring being climbed, but not by Avorstead's familiar metal armor. I still could not manifest myself physically, though I could see in my spring's territory. A man climbed the final stair, dressed in cloth armor, wielding a silver sword, soaked in blood. I did not know this man, but I did know that sword. It was the Silver Prince.
The mysterious man, of salt-and-pepper hair, dipped Avorstead's blade in the spring, cleansing its blood from the steel. I could tell the man had not a face of grievance, but of happiness. I had thought that John may had perished during battle, and told this man to cleanse his sword before he passed, but the man in front of my waters had not an ounce of grief. I could tell he felt fulfilled, accomplished.
Although I was confused, I could not bring myself to question him. I could have manifested if I really tried, but something held me back. What, I did not know, but it did not feel right to interrogate this man on Avorstead's status. Perhaps John was simply too busy to wash his sword after the battle, and sent this man in his stead.
As soon as the man left, finishing his deed, I felt regret. My opportunity to ask about John was squandered by my hesitation, my own fear. For hours I sat in anguish, knowing that I would never know what happened to my final Avorstead.
I wanted closure. To know he passed, or to know he is still alive. I did not want to wait any longer. My patience was running thin. I decided to send a message to whoever was holding that blade, hoping they still had it. With the power of my blessing on the Silver Prince, my message stated, "Dear holder of the Silver Prince, I ask that you visit my spring once more. I must speak with you."
I could not send something much longer than that. I knew I had to save whatever energy I had left to talk with this man when he came.
After a few minutes, the man had returned, with another figure behind him. It was a female, wearing the same military colors as Johnathan. The woman held her hands across her chest, and on her ring finger, unmistakably, was the ring in Avorstead's pocket.
This was all I needed to know. The woman's face was stained with tears, and the man, a solemn expression on his face. They had smelled of grief, and sorrow. Wet earth stained their hands and dotted their clothing, and the Silver Prince rested against the man's hip.
Knowing that I owed them an explanation for coming here, I walked on the water's surface, pooling the last of my energies together to remain attached to this physical world. Softly, I began to tell my story.
"Once upon a time, there was a knight who came to my spring..."
Intently they listened, taking in each word I spoke. As I finished, there was no response from them. I felt myself beginning to fade away, losing my final connection to the world. Before the pair could ask a single question, I faded away, the only hint of my existence residing within the sword that belonged to the Knight of the Spring.