A different kind of Knight

Chapter 27

All the other pilots accused him of something that he had never done nor what his family would've done too. It all seemed so absurd to him. Their accusations are thrown at the person who is supposed to be next High King of the very planet without regards and respect. Was his father not a respected ruler? Did he not respect his fellow men? Where was the reverence and respect that they had for his name? It is all gone now. All that is left is accusations after accusations.

But the most disgusting of them all. Was that he was accused of rejecting the divinity of the God-Emperor. Something that is unfathomable to Luke. He would never do such a thing! "I'm not a traitor, I'm not a traitor! All of you are mistaken!" He pleaded tearfully as he fought against the metal of the shackles that rubbed his wrists raw. His words were unheard as the storm of accusations continued to thunder with rage. "I AM NO TRAITOR!" But none of those above him believed those words he screamed over and over again. The manacles sprouting from the shattered remains of a marble pillar prevented him from running away with it being a restraint upon him.

He tried to take off the bindings as they rubbed the skin on his wrist raw. But when he reached for it, he felt not of bloodied steel but flesh. A small hand wrapped around his, His eyes did not fool him as he saw a young girl wearing the same clothes as everyone else but with far less dirt. Commoners were not allowed to touch the nobles of Knightly Houses. His father however, did not care for such rules and has always intermingled with the commoners of his kingdom. Luke, a noble, felt neither disgust or hatred for the fact that he was touched by a peasant. Rather, he felt immense gratitude and a sense of relief. This little girl had unknowingly saved him by bringing Luke back to the real world. She stared into his eyes with care. Two blue eyes filled with wanton youth and free of malice. "Ser." She called for Luke's attention with a quiet but stern voice.

"My father is a barber, follow me." She commanded as the little girl tugged at his hand. Luke does not know why this little girl wants to bring him to her father who is also a barber. Maybe she only saw Luke as a potential customer and not a helpless person? That thought made him reach for the messy, greasy, and unkempt plumage of hair on his head. He is a noble, and should look like one at least. That thought slightly dimmed the way Luke perceived his little guardian.

Though it is not completely fruitless and surely he will be getting more than just a simple haircut. People from all walks of life utilized barbers regularly, this could be a great boon of info if all went right. This could be a massive help. They soon disappeared into the crowd. Not a moment after, sounds of crashing glass and a person madly yelling followed soon after. No doubt looking for him with murderous intent. "Thank you." He whispered his thanks to her as they traversed the muddy shantytown, she acknowledged it with a minute head nod.

...

Deep inside of the cave somewhere. There is a lonesome yellow furred feline. Asleep inside the cockpit of Chaosbane which now lies barren of its pilot. Her name is actually Alice Dion J. Rooter. She is in the midst of a dream. Writhing, twisting, and twirling as tears wetted the fur under her eyes.

It is not a pleasant dream. No one is coming to rescue her this time. Every time she was saved, her saviors ended up with bad fortune or accidents. Luke was no different. she could only wish to meet her saviors once more and give them the thanks that they deserve. "Alice?" A familiar sounding voice called out to her. That deep voice scared her when she first heard it. She woke up and heaved the cockpit open. And there he was in the flesh, Trelbjor. He looked just the way she remembered him. White scales, plenty of scars that could tell a story for ages if he wasn't so reluctant to speak of it, and that kind old face that wore true compassion in the form of an aging smile. "Alice?" He asked, unsure if what he was seeing was true. "Is that really you?" He squinted, his eyes having a whitish hue to the cataracts that formed.