Evervale: The Marklith Tree

Cursed Knight

The stars of the night sky shined down brightly over the kingdom of Logen. Joras was bruised in spots he never thought he could bruise in as he sat with Dimitri in the west guard tower.

Every knight had to take the night shift after the riot. King Zullan felt like more could brew in the night. Joras wasn't too pleased when he was told of the shift. He wanted to sleep in an endless slumber after what happened to him.

"Do you regret it?"

Joras turned his attention to Dimitri, who sat slumped against the tower walls with his helmet resting at his side.

"Regret what?" Joras asked, confused.

"Joining the knights and having to do this," he gazed up at the stars, his eyes tired and fluttering.

"It's our duty, we can't back out now just because of a riot and a night shift. Now get up so a commander doesn't see you," he kicked his leg.

"Damn, you're such a follower, Joras," he laughed, rubbing his green buzz-cut hair.

Joras ignored his words and looked back out of the tower window that showed the grassy fields in the distance.

He have an issue with taking orders. To him, everyone was a follower in life. He was honored to be a follower, and didn't care what anyone had to say about it. Joras followed those who he judged to be righteous, the ones who asserted themselves when the time came.

"Did you stop by your father's house today?"

"No, I was going to, but the night shift set me back."

Joras's father, Shorn — lived in Gallantry Village. It's where retired knights lived with their families. They don't get the same treatment as the civilians do, they're pampered by the king.

"I need to see my mother. I rarely visit her since I got the daylight shifts."

"How is she?"

"Good. She's been doing better after dad passed away."

Dimitri mentioning his father passing made Joras think back to his mother.

She died from an illness when he was twelve. Even though he pulled through, he felt like he was a different person after it happened. His father's reaction was so broken and vacant that he decided to retire from being a knight. He was now a blacksmith and had grown accustomed to spending long hours in his house with a bottle of wine and the smell of burning coal that leaked into his home making him at ease.

"She also wants to hear from you. She wants to gift you those small caramel candies you always liked."

Joras smiled at the thought of Dimitri's mother still remembering his favorite treat.

In their younger years, she would always send Dimitri out with two small green boxes filled with them. One for him and one for Dimitri.

"Remember handing most of them out to the girls we liked?" he made his friend recall the memories.

"The simpler times," Dimitri said dreaming back.

"When it was easier for us to get a girl," Joras laughed softly.

"When it was easier for you to get a girl," he corrected him. "I still do."

"Yeah, okay," Joras shook his head with a scoff.

"What? I do. You don't."

"I can get a girl," Joras looked at him trying to sound serious. "I just don't have the time to."