“I am dying,” the Godknight said.

Kal stared down at him. His fallen hero, in so many ways. He couldn’t help but think of his father, long gone, banished by the god who now sat weakly in the dirt, his back against the trunk of a tree. And Kal’s own angry confrontation with the Godknight, just days ago. How had it all come to this? And how had he found himself right in the center of it all?

The strange young girl who had summoned him and Lilly—summoned them as if she were looking just for them—stood off to the side, watching. Lilly stood next to him, looking nearly as dumbstruck as he felt.

“I regained consciousness when they put me in that machine,” the Godknight said. His voice was hoarse and it seemed to take considerable effort to form each word. “And I detected their mystic for the first time. She must have been tracking me for… I have no idea how long. I have lost so much.

“I managed to hide myself from her. That was when I reached out to you, Kalvin.”

“How did you know I was even there?” Kal asked.

The Godknight furrowed his brow. “I… I don’t remember. I have lost so much.”

There was something heartbreaking about the Godknight’s repetition. As if his mind was declining as fast as his body was.

“Was it you who helped us reach the cages?” Lilly asked.

“Helped you?” the Godknight asked.

“Yes. It was weird. Like time… slowed down.”

The Godknight shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think that was me. All my focus in that moment was in staying conscious.”

“Why didn’t you go back for Jaina?” Kal asked. “Why just me and Lilly?”

The Godknight ducked his head in shame. “It was all I could do to save the two of you. I had no strength left. I’m sorry Kal. I… I just couldn’t save her.”

“So you abandoned her,” Kal spat angrily. “Just like my father.”

“Kal—” Lilly started.

“He’s right,” the Godknight interrupted. “I’m sorry, Kalvin. About your father, about your friend. About everything. I had a duty, a responsibility, to protect you. All of you. And I failed.” He paused. “May I tell you a story?”

Kal and Lilly nodded. The girl looked on.

“It will be a short story. I fear I don’t have much time left. I can’t tell you who my parents were. I never knew them. My first memory was of being an infant—a human infant—floating in a small wicker basket down a lazy river. And the Mother Goddess plucking me out.”

“Wait,” Lilly interrupted. “You’re saying you’ve met the Mother Goddess?”

He smiled weakly. “Oh yes. She is very real. And she walks among you, even now.”

The strange young girl walked forward, stopping next to Kal. “I’ve felt her,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

The Godknight looked at her, perhaps really seeing her for the first time. His eyes widened and a bright smile, barely discernible through the blood and bruises, crossed his lips. “Of course you have, Ayla Starflower.”

The girl looked startled and confused. “That’s not…” She trailed off, looking at Kal and Lilly, who were both watching her intently. She ducked her head and took a step backward.

The girl was filthy and looked like she had been through a great deal today, Kal thought. But she had a quality about her, a gentleness that seemed to radiate warmth. Kal immediately felt protective of her. Not in the way he had when he had first met Jaina, but just as strong. Perhaps stronger.

“The Mother Goddess gave me power,” the Godknight continued. “She is not a creator, as many believe. She is a nurturer. Of everything, all of the natural world. The forests, the oceans. The monsters and the animals. And even humans and aeonics.

“But humanity was growing, and what they were growing into troubled her greatly. She feared there was nothing left she could do for them, that they had grown into something that no longer wanted or needed her. And that, one day, they would destroy everything. The forests, the oceans; the beasts and the insects. And, of course, themselves.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“And so She gave them a gift: me.

“I was to be the protector of all humanity. I was not to shape them or to rule them. Simply to help them. And I did just that, for thousands of years.

“But as the time went on, the years passed, I grew more and more frustrated. I would prevent a war, only for a new one to pop up. I would stop someone from killing people in one kingdom, only for a different kingdom to kill many others. It was endless. Despite all my power, I could only do so much. I couldn’t force them to do anything. But I did plead with them. To live in peace. It would have been so easy…”

He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. He was still for a long moment, and Kal thought he might have passed.

But his eyes opened, slowly, and he looked at the three of them.

“And so I created Brightholme. My dream. Where anyone and everyone who chose to could live in peace. If I couldn’t shape the world, then I could at least carve out a peaceful place where those who did want peace could have the kind of lives they deserved. There would be no king, no ruler. And just the one rule. Live in peace.”

“But they did have a ruler,” Lilly said.

The Godknight grunted, and Kal couldn’t tell if it was in agreement or in pain.

“I failed,” he went on, leaving Lilly’s statement unaddressed. “I was to be the guardian of all of humanity, not just the chosen few. And that failure is what cost me my power.”

“The Mother Goddess… took it from you?” Kal asked.

“No,” the Godknight said. “She wouldn’t interfere like that. But my assumption is that it was built-in, if you will, when she first gave me the power. ‘Be their guardian,’ she had told me. And I knew what she meant. I knew what my responsibilities were. And I accepted them, freely and willingly.”

“That’s...that’s…” Lilly trailed off.

The Godknight suddenly leaned over, holding his midsection and grunting in pain. Lilly and Ayla both took a step towards him, as if there were something they could possibly do for him. Kal stayed where he was, still taking in what he had just heard. The Godknight’s origin had always been a mystery. Not just to him, but to all of Brightholme. Perhaps the entire world. And he had just decided to share it with, of all people, Kal.

“Come here!” the Godknight cried out. He reached his arms out awkwardly, waving them weakly at the three of them. “Quickly!”

Ayla took one of his hands, cupped it in both of hers. Kal and Lilly exchanged a look; Lilly nodded and shrugged and stepped forward. Kal followed.

All three were holding onto his hands now.

“Be careful,” he said. “The mystic who has been tracking me might now be able to track you.”

“Track us?” Kal asked. “Why would they do that?”

“Because I have given you my power.”

Kal’s jaw dropped open. He released the Godknight’s hand and stepped back. Lilly stood motionless. Ayla attempted to step back, but the Godknight held her firm.

“But not you, Ayla. You won’t need it,” he told her mysteriously.

“How… How could you even do that?” Lilly asked.

“And maybe you should have asked us first?” Kal said.

“I don’t feel any different,” Lilly said to Kal. “Do you?”

Kal shook his head. To Lilly, he said, “Maybe he’s delusional.”

“It’s just a spark,” the Godknight continued. “For that is all that I have left. But if you use it for good—to help, to protect, to save—then the power will grow within you. Perhaps in unexpected ways, different than how they manifested in me.”

“This is crazy,” Kal muttered.

He was looking at the Godknight, and at first didn’t trust what he was seeing. But after just a few seconds, it became apparent he wasn’t imagining it. The Godknight was growing smaller. His arms and legs thinned, his neck and face rapidly grew wrinkles. His dark brown, almost black hair that had always practically glowed in the sunlight faded to gray, then white.

“Be better than I was,” he croaked out. “Be their champions.”

His head tilted to one side, his body slumping over. A moment later, he fell off to the side.

“Oh no!” Lilly cried. She rushed to his side.

Kal was surprised to find his eyes filled with tears. The Godknight had been a fixture in not only his life, but the lives of every man, woman, and child in all the history of Brightholme. And Kal had just watched him die.

“I think… I think he’s still alive!” Lilly cried.

Ayla rushed over and bent down next to him. She took his hand one more time and closed her eyes. Then she opened them, and regarded Kal and Lilly. “He is. But he is… changed. And may still die.”

“We need to get him to a healer,” Lilly said.

Ayla shook her head. “He’s beyond a healer, now.”

“How do you know all this?” Kal asked her.

She looked up at him sheepishly. “I… I don’t know. I just… do.”

Kal shrugged. Made as much sense as any of it did, he supposed.

“Okay, then,” Lilly said, standing up. “What the hell do we do now?”

Kal heard a familiar voice, deep within his memory. His mother, repeating her dying words.

“We do what he told us to,” Kal stated. “We be heroes. Champions.”