It’s been nearly six decades since I began working tirelessly, driven by my unwavering devotion to my Queen—my everything. Recognizing the potential within me, she granted me a more significant role, bestowing upon me the title of paladin. With this honor came powers worthy of her favor. I felt myself growing stronger, realizing this was what I had longed for, what I truly needed.
I was assigned to work with a man—extremely tall, with chiseled cheekbones, crystal-clear eyes, long white eyelashes, and platinum hair slicked back neatly. He had a certain charm about him. His name is Draxen. His composure radiated strong confidence, though he also looked somewhat miserable. He was another paladin who showed great dignity toward the Queen. I've always worked alone, so this is new to me. Now, I am tasked with training alongside him in my new role.
As I ascend the tall castle stairs and make my way down the hallway, I knock on the heavy oak door. The sound echoes through the corridor, and the air feels dry. I’ve only heard of this man and seen him once before. I suppose we’ll see what he’s all about. I stand there patiently until the door creaks open, revealing Draxen.
“Hello, I am Caidi. I’ve been sent to train with you,” I say.
“Ah, yes,” Draxen responds, his voice warm and welcoming. He opens the door wider and gestures for me to enter. “It’s a pleasure,” he says, giving a slight bow. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I step inside, and as I take in the aroma of fresh wine, I let out a soft hum of approval.
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Draxen’s tall figure leads the way to the living room, his footsteps echoing with each clack of his shoes. He pulls out a chair for me and motions for me to sit. I take my seat, and he pours me a cup of wine.
“So, we’ll be working together for some time now,” he says, placing the glass in front of me and preparing a drink for himself. He takes a seat across from me and, in a more gentle tone, adds, “We’ll really get to know each other.” He raises an eyebrow.
THUMP. I feel it deep in my chest. What is this feeling? I take a deep breath. “Yes, sure we are,” I say in an uninterested tone, avoiding eye contact by looking away.
“Alright. Let’s see what duties we’ll start with,” he replies, taking a swig of his wine and settling back into his chair. He slides a paper across the table and places it in front of me. Leaning in, I catch the scent of fresh wine on his breath. Slightly flustered by his proximity, I look up at him.
“First, we’ll head to the grave. We call it Soul Guidance. We’ll oversee the transition of souls between life and death and maintain the balance of the land.” I roll my eyes as he speaks, thinking to myself that this seems like amateur work. Sensing my slight irritation, he adds, “We’ll get to the more interesting things soon, but we need to take things slow.” I nod slowly, flustered by how close he has gotten. I need to snap out of it. What’s going on with me? I take slow, deep breaths, trying to suppress the unsettling feelings inside. I zone out for what feels like a moment and then hear his voice echoing from a distance, “Are you ready to head out?” I look up to see him standing by the door, waiting for me. Who is this man? I get up and reply, “Uhm, yes,” as I make my way over to him. We head out.