Armour

The knight emerges from the fog, embraced in mystery, holding his glittering sword high. The ferns bow to his step, the breeze carry his legacy. For under his watchful eye, the dragons are slain, the maidens saved, none fearful of the dangers lurking.

High on a mountain, the enigmatic knight lives in a perpetual state of disconnect. Quite literally shielded from the world, his emotions separate from those of banal bourgeoisie as he casts his circumspect gaze upon the land. Clothed in honor and hung with glory, the knight deserves none less than exhaustive respect.

And from all but one, he had garnered obeisance. But the One remained unsatisfied by the ubiquitous glamour and resolved to ascertain the knight’s caliber for herself.

And so she commenced her ascension of the great mountain housing the brave knight. The treacherous journey evoked little fear on the girl. She was brave, no victim of the blind trust that captured her community, leaving them ignorant and faint-hearted.

After conquering the climb, the juvenile had finally reached the summit and gazed upon the great knight.

“Hello,” she ventured. The knight said nothing. “I’ve come to befriend your greatness.” Again, no reply.

As she crept forward, the cavalier cowered. Shocked at his bashfulness, the girl gained courage.

“I am no threat, so won’t you please show your face?” She continued to advance.

“Don’t come any closer,” the knight growled. The girl tossed her head in laughter.

“Are you afraid of a little girl?” she guffawed, reaching her hand out to touch the gleaming metal on the knight’s abdomen.

“Do not touch me,” the knight said in warning, but alas, the girl’s fingers had already grazed his armour.

She yelpt, jumping back in fear and pain. The armour had sliced her dainty fingers and blood began to drip, staining the dirt.

“You horrible man, you hurt me! How could you? Are you not charged with the task of protecting our people? I was simply trying to be close, to offer friendship.” She ran from the mountain, irate and embarrassed.

The knight fell to his knees, weeping, devastated that even a girl could not reach out to him without enduring pain. He knew the fault did not land to him, but the village people could not understand. For what the girl did not know was that the armour was not protection, but a cage holding the knight hostage: denying emotional connection and hurting all who attempted amity.