Two months passed by quickly.

Maverick was steadfast in his training, completing his workouts and drills every time he dismounted his horse, and taking the elixir from Glalindir daily. And, much to Maverick’s dismay, Sir Baderic did not go easy on him. Maverick felt beaten and broken in a brand new way every single day as his body was forced from the body of a child into that of a man’s. Along with the physical and weapons training, Sir Baderic taught him hunting, foraging, and even—to Maverick’s absolute delight—magik.

A week or so after first taking the elixir, Maverick realized why Sir Percivale had him take it…he had grown six inches in that time and his muscles began showing! Now, two months later, Maverick had grown a full two feet, standing six-foot-eight…taller than his dad! And his muscles were large and sinewy. Even better, his butt no longer hurt from riding his horse—which he had named Ptero for his favorite dinosaur, the pterodactyl.

But he was struggling to get used to his new, massive size. He hit his head a lot, tripped over his own feet sometimes, and fumbled items when he was trying to grab them. The beatings from Sir Baderic every time he made a mistake because of his new size forced Maverick to think through his every movement—anything to keep Sir Baderic’s boot off him.

Yet, he felt his emotions easier to control. He didn’t always feel like lashing out, wasn’t so angry, wasn’t as impulsive, and generally felt happier.

The land they traveled through was beautiful. Rolling hills, covered in flowers Maverick had never seen before, led into beautiful, forested valleys covered in thick fog. They had followed these hills and valleys for the last two months, and Sir Percivale told Maverick they would reach the Whistling Mountains soon.

And then the Anemis lands would begin once they crossed those high peaks.

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Maverick pulled up on the reins of Ptero and dismounted. They were next to a river formed by springs from the Whistling Mountains, which were looming over them now. They would begin the journey into the mountains tomorrow.

Maverick brought Ptero to the river to drink, where he walked to an open area next to Sir Percivale. Ptero drank from the cool mountain stream and Maverick filled his leather canteen. Maverick had grown attached to Sir Percivale, whether he knew it or not. The others still treated him like a child, while Sir Percivale acknowledged his training and his reaction to the elixir, treating and talking to him like a man. This only made Maverick more and more devoted to him…despite all the lectures which seemed to never end.

They finished watering their horses and Sir Percivale told him to meet him in five at a nearby clearing in the forest. Maverick could only guess what kind of exhaustive training awaited him there.

He did as he was told and found Sir Percivale already awaiting him when he arrived. Maverick raised his right hand hail him when, to his surprise, Sir Percivale drew his sword and lunged at Maverick when he was a few paces away, trying to drive his sword through Maverick’s heart. Maverick was quicker than Sir Percivale’s heavy sword though and rolled to his left, rising to his feet and drawing his own sword and long dagger.

Maverick pushed the confusion from his mind. He needed to not look at Sir Percivale as his mentor right now—daresay his friend. Sir Percivale was, at this moment, his enemy, and Maverick would show him what he was capable of doing to his enemies.

Sir Percivale had overextended himself with his lunge, and Maverick found himself momentarily behind him. He hit him as hard as he could with the pommel of his sword in the back of his knee and watched as Sir Percivale’s leg fell out from under him.

Maverick raised his sword to stab Sir Percivale—his friend, his mentor—in the heart, but Sir Percivale anticipated it and swung around with blinding speed to parry Maverick’s blow. He rose to both feet again and stood in a fighting stance with both hands on his sword. Maverick quickly placed his dagger back in its sheath and copied Sir Percivale’s stance and grip.

They circled around each other, watching the others footwork and countering with each step the other took.

“Why are you doing this? You are my friend!” Maverick said, allowing a tinge of confusion to make its way back into his mind.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Sir Percivale just stared at him, not offering a response. Maverick was the first to end the dance by feigning to the left and quickly shifting his weight to right, while expertly swinging his sword around at the same time and catching Sir Percivale on his upper left arm. It was nothing but a scratch, but it gave Maverick hope as he fought against this experienced warrior.

Sir Percivale blocked Maverick’s next strike and landed a heavy punch on Maverick’s left shoulder, making his arm go numb. He nearly dropped his sword but held onto it for dear life as he drove his shoulder into Sir Percivale’s chest and pushing him backwards, thereby creating a healthy distance between them where Maverick could recover from the stun.

Maverick allowed Sir Percivale to initiate the next attack…and it was a brutal one. Sir Percivale attacked with all his strength in a barrage of blows where all Maverick could do was parry and deflect them, his sword arm going numb from the reverberation of the steel.

Maverick’s mind was going wild. He thought he was about to die as he quickly became exhausted. This wasn’t training anymore, this was survival. He felt the adrenaline raging through him—the only thing keeping him alive—as he found the strength to dodge the next attack and spent all his energy on his own barrage of strikes. After the seventh blow, he swung his sword from right to left with such force that Sir Percivale’s sword flew from his hands. Before Maverick could think about what he was doing, he plunged his sword deep into Sir Percivale’s chest, puncturing his lungs and chest.

Sir Percivale fell backwards to the ground, Maverick’s sword still sticking in his chest, gurgling as he tried to breathe. Maverick overcame the shock of what he had done and rushed to his friend’s side, holding his head in his lap so he could breathe.

Tears streamed from Maverick’s eyes. “I’m so sorry! Why did you fight me?! What have I done?!”

Sir Percivale smiled a crooked, bloody smile as he started spitting out blood and said, “This is what needed to be done. You have proved yourself and you have taken my spot as the leader of the Companions. I knew—” he spit out more blood— “when I first saw you that this was my fate. I recognized you immediately for what you were. You see Maverick, we cannot both coexist physically in this realm…” He fell into a coughing fit that seemed to sap the rest of his energy.

“Maverick, quickly now. Get my sword and place it on my chest.”

Maverick scrambled to get Sir Percivale’s sword and placed it on his chest. Sir Percivale grabbed the hilt with both hands and said, “Maverick. You are now the defender of this realm. You must always do what is right, even as you see those around you doing wrong and being rewarded for it. Always keep your word, though you see others break oaths and gain temporary rewards. Always tell the truth, though you see others lie their way to success. Always maintain your honor, especially in the face of those who have none. And finally, always prepare for battle, for peace is a temporary illusion…war is our constant.” Sir Percivale raised his hand and placed it on Maverick’s heart. Maverick watched as Sir Percivale’s body began to glow with a subdued red hue.

“I name you Sir Maverick, the thirteenth Black Knight, leader of the Companions, and Defender of Glorindal.”

With that, Sir Percivale’s body disappeared as it became fully engulfed in the red light. Maverick watched as the red light hovered above Sir Percivale’s now-empty-armor and began to surround Maverick.

His body began to absorb the red light and Maverick could feel his body tingling in places he had never felt before within him. He was scared and didn’t know what was happening, but also had no way to fight it, so he gave in. If this was the price he had to pay for killing his only friend in this world, then so be it. He would take it.

In less than a minute, Maverick’s body absorbed all the red light that took Sir Percivale’s body. He felt strange, like he wasn’t the only one living in his skin now. He felt himself sharing his body with dozens of others who he came to identify as all the previous Black Knights of Glorindal.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?!” Maverick screamed as he held his head in his hands, feeling every part of his body being invaded by other beings.

To his surprise, a voice within him answered. “We are those who came before, those who guide you now. We are the Compendium of the Twelve Knights. One day, you will be the thirteenth.”

Maverick recognized the voice talking to him as Sir Percivale’s, which freaked him out even more. “Sir Percivale!” he said aloud. “What is this?! I’m so sorry for what I did to you! Please forgive me!”

“There is nothing to forgive,” the voice replied. “It was my time and I initiated combat, knowing full well what would happen. You must go now and fulfill your duty…fulfill your fate.”

Maverick blinked away the tears he found still streaming from his eyes and got to his feet. He gathered up Sir Percivale’s armor and weapons and slowly brought them to where the Companions were gathered.

To his surprise, none of the Companions were shocked at seeing Maverick carrying their leader’s armor, nor at the story Maverick told them.

Sir Baderic said, when Maverick was done explaining, “We know all, Sir Maverick. The Black Knight told us this would be his fate and to take care and follow you as we did him. You are now our leader, Sir Maverick. Rest while you can, for the passage through the mountains will be trying.”

“But no one has told me why this has happened! Why couldn’t Sir Percivale and I exist in the same realm? Why did I have to kill him? I didn’t want any of this!”

Sir Rurik chimed in. “You may not have wanted it, but it is your duty now and your responsibility to bear. We all mourn Sir Percivale, but we know that he is still with us through you. Now go rest.”