Legend of the Winged Knight Ch. 14 (BTACDragons)

Chapter 14: Humility
The Winged Knight was not one for parties. As such, they stood off in the corner, sipping quietly from her glass, meditating on the effects of the day, her wings bandaged and wrapped with ointment-soaked bandages, the muscle having been singed, and the feathers in spots having been burned off. The healers had demanded she rest in spite of her protests – and she was essentially a prisoner of the earth until they healed.

For an avian, being grounded was like having both of her legs broken. Flying was freedom – to have movement stripped from her was a fate worse than death.

Yet, worse than her tenderized, burned, patchy wings was the memory of the drowess. What about her had made her nearly lose her vow? What about her nearly made her take life in the name of vengeance alone?

Was it that, maybe, she was...?

It was then Aurelius, still in commander's regalia, coughed sharply, jolting her out of her thoughts. With him stood a young, blonde-haired Heartwoodian elf, a gentle blue gaze peering straight at her through her visor.

“This is her, Sir Aurelius?”

“Indeed. Her and the orc led the charge. One of the crazier stunts I've seen in years.”

The Winged Knight stiffened, averting her gaze. “It was her idea.”

“Regardless, while we were equipped to take the city, you prevented the deaths of many of our own men. I suspect this battle could have been much bloodier had you not aided us with your bow and polearm. As I have already expressed, we are in your debt.”

The Winged Knight remained quiet at the gratitude. “I-it was of Lady Daama's will. And is this Prince Arnus of Heartwood?”

The fair elf smiled a little. “Indeed. And judging by your armor, you must be of the Imperial Valkyries.”

The Winged Knight bit their tongue and nodded. The elf's eyes watched their movements, seeming to pick up on what she withheld – her shoulders tensed further at his piercing blue gaze.

Instead, he offered a small, gentle smile. “You should join the festivities. You're a guest of honor, from the sounds of it. People want to meet you.”

“I-I don't do this for glory's sake. I do not need their gratitude – I did it because it was right..”

“But they offer their gratitude freely – they wish to raise cheers for you and your orc companion. Speaking of which, I'm told she's recovering well.” The elf chuckled. “She inquired about the local specialty drinks upon hearing there was a celebration going on.”

The Winged Knight mumbled within their helmet, underneath their breath. “I-I can't.”

Aurelius smirked to himself, giving a fanged grin. “No need to be so humble, Sir Knight. I must insist you actually join the festivities. We celebrate being one step closer to liberating Vystriana, and while you may be far from home, we would be honored with your presence, and celebrate that as well. Please join us.”

The Winged Knight shifted in their stance, taking a step further back against the wall. The elf gently reached forward and took their gauntleted hand, and pulled them forward. “It's not like you can do anything right now anyway. When I was a child, my teachers taught me that a lesson learned unrested is a lesson wasted. ...of course they told me that because I sometimes showed up to their lessons half-asleep. But you know!”

“But-”

The elf smiled at her, blue eyes tranquil like a stilled ocean – seeming to entrap her. She could do naught but say...

***
As the three set foot in the Great Keep's banquet hall, the cheers erupted from the Vystrian troops and various drow citizens, all seated around a humongous, obsidian table. Some were already halfway to inebriation judging from the heated, flushed cheeks that crossed their faces.Their expressions carried a sense of joy beyond being shitfaced – laughter and grins plastered on the faces of the inebriated and those in the process of becoming so alike.

Among them was Liangyu, who had an arm around one fellow drunkard, the other in a sling, singing raucuously and poorly – in spite of it sounding like a cat being eaten alive by a dragon, everyone was sharing in laughter and smiles.

And as Liangyu called her over with her free arm, Kari herself could not help but allow a small grin to show upon her face.

The elven prince placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and smiled. “Thank you for joining us. It will do wonders for the morale of the men.”

Aurelius nodded in agreement. “This is the first glimmer of hope that we've had in ages. And it is thanks to the contributions of people like you, Sir Knight.”

“...I...appreciate your gratitude, Sir Aurelius, Prince Arnus.” She paused. “However-”

“Less is more. However, I don't think we ever caught your name.”

As the Winged Knight paused, Aurelius leaned in to whisper. “You are among friends and comrades. Share the face of one of their heroes.”

“I'm...not a hero. All I did was show up to this battle at the behest of an oracle.”

Aurelius smiled. “Sometimes, that's all that matters. Seeing injustice, correcting it.”

Prince Arnus simply smiled – his fair features making it hard to tear her gaze away from his bewildering boyish-grin. “The wounds you bear. They are evidence enough of the suffering you endured for Verridith's people – the people of Vystriana. Look around you.” The elf gestured to the gathered.

It was then she saw just how gaunt the faces of some of the citizens were. The bony outlines of their cheeks. The tired looks in their eyes – both from exhaustion and being relieved. The scars, she noted, weren't from battle. They were whip marks as well as burns – namely from brands.

“Some of these people were political prisoners. Others were slaves. And still others were just men, women, and even children who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Aurelius shook his head. “Some of them have even offered to join our cause – they were too scared to fight before, because there were simply not enough of them with enough strength. And the longer this war drew on, the more hopeless it became for them. By helping us, you became part of that hope.”

It was then that she felt a sudden weight on her shoulders, and a green arm draped itself over her shoulder, a familiar orc face on the other side with a drunken grin.

“This stuff is the tits! Shit smashes harder than a dragon's headbutt! Can't even feel my arm right now, a-haha,” the orc roared with a drunken slur.

In spite of her arm in a sling, the orc was clearly enjoying herself, as she rocked both herself and the Winged Knight in a raucous drunken song that would have made the ears of sailors bleed from profanity and cacophony alike.

And yet, Kari couldn't help but smile the silliest of grins.