AWAKE.
The dawn's warm light shines through the window as a choir sings. In that early light, a Viridian Knight stirs awake. The light feels like it shall burn through their eyes and down into their soul, though regardless, the Knight stands trying to ignore the gentle pressure in the back of their mind.
EVERYTHING SINGS.
The Knight raises their hand toward their head, rubbing their temples, before they begin their monotonous dance of a morning routine. Donning a doublet and some other simple clothes, this Viridian moves toward a small desk, where an ornate silver ring lies upon a pile of different colored headbands. They quickly put on Otto's Ring as the prayers inscribed upon it seemed to glimmer in the morning light, though they stalled for a moment, looking towards the headbands.
YOUR HONOR AND YOUR FAILINGS, THERE CAN ONLY BE GRACE IN WEARING BOTH.
Our Knight reaches forward and raises an emerald green cloth to their head, tying it in the back. There is a look on this Viridian's face that seems lost between sadness and longing; deep in thought, this Knight of ours moves out of their room and down the stairs. 'They are louder today. Why must this choir sing so loud?' They ask themselves, not out loud, of course; it would be ridiculous for a Knight to ponder aloud why the voices in their own damn head were loud.
YOU HAVE WORTH, SOLVAAN. PROVE IT.
At the bottom of the stairs, this Solvaan glances at a small plaque upon which can be read, 'Glory to the Empire.' They merely nod toward the words before moving on into the kitchen. Another dull dance of routine begins in the kitchen, which is as practiced and homely as the previous one. Our beloved Knight begins to cook breakfast as the smell of waffles, berries, yogurts, and oatmeal fills the air. Once the labor and the feast ended, our Solvaan glanced a room over and saw the plaque again before speaking a short phrase in Altalar, "Walk with the Ailor in the Empire."
AND GUARD IT AGAINST RUINOUS FORCES. FOR OUR LADY COMMANDS LITTLE SOLDIER, AND WE HONOR HER COMMANDS.
At that moment, Talsir's breadknife slips, barely nicking their other hand. Our simple Knight pauses as the voices in their mind grow only louder. They hesitate not from the pain of the minor wound or out of fear of the choir within their mind. For in this moment, their pain and fear mean little compared to the support, the aid, and the perfection of the choir. Talsir paused because they started to think again that these voices were real and almost swore they recognized one. The thought goes away as quickly as it came since, after all, the dead don't sing for the likes of Talsir. "Just me and my thoughts..." They say to themselves.
POETRY WAS OURS TO CREATE, OURS TO FIND. BLOOD WAS NEVER ONCE BEAUTIFUL. IT WAS ALWAYS JUST RED. WE FOUND THE BEAUTY, THE HONOR, THE DIGNITY.
Our Knight sighs as they move to wash the barely visible cut and the single drop of blood off of the tip of their finger. As a thought dances across their mind, 'The stress is getting to me. I need to relax and meditate. Merjan pushes us all towards a more perfect state. Can't have that get in the way of my peace of mind.' Talsir continued their morning routine as they donned their armor and shield, feeling the suppressive weight upon their body. "Perhaps I go to one of those masses at All-Beacon. Maybe that would help," Talsir questions as they look at themselves in the mirror.
STAND TALL, KNIGHT. REMEMBER YOU HELP.
Talsir didn't feel much like the Knight in the mirror; they didn't feel like much of anyone today. The Knight stared back at our dear Talsir, and after a moment, the pair breathed deeply and were again one. They then put in their earrings, gifts from a close friend, and they felt right to wear today. They wanted to serve others, and they wanted to be brave. It felt like they were being themselves. It felt natural, though then again, the bottle of Cirezzia that Talsir looked towards as they moved to leave also felt natural, and a bit of them always worried that it was closer to their true self. However, not today, for today, a Knight helps. Duty before temptation, after all, "Ehren."
BRAVE BOY. KNOW YOUR VALOR SHALL BE TESTED, SON OF MARISAR.
The words of the choir echo in Talsir's ears as they think, 'They never say that to the lucky ones.' Moving towards their door, this humble Knight steels their resolve, although they can't help but think, 'So tired. So tired of always being brave.' This Talsir is gone in a moment, for this Talsir cannot survive outside their home. The Knight that stands where Talsir stood wields their two most trusted weapons. Their hands held tight a sword as their face held on to a polite smile; with those two unnatural weapons, the Knight leaves this scene.
YOU ARE A GOOD MAN, BROTHER.
A single voice sings, but it is the only voice that matters. Whether it is from a Ghost or a Figment changes nothing, for it sings for Talsir. And it shall sing eternally. Brothers have to look out for each other, after all.
