It was the last chapel still intact. The last sanctuary untouched by the vile hands of the self-appointed Divine Lord. And Father Tremo was the last priest and protector of its cracked walls and partly shattered stained-glass windows. But protector was a little too big of a title. The chapel sheltered him more than he could ever hope to keep it in the state it was in. Still, he stayed and attended the abandoned altar, lighting the candles there only during daytime when even such a tiny spec of light couldn’t betray him to malignant eyes.

Yet, a far greater risk proved the fire he used to cook his meagre meals. It’s smoke posing the threat during daytime and its bright glow during night. But he had to eat, so he kept the fire small and only cooked after nightfall, when at least the smoke couldn’t betray him from afar. It was, as Father Tremo had feared, during the preparations for his supper he was found.

-

The moonlight was gloomy as it penetrated the remnants of a cold summer. Still, animals mulled about their nightly routines and whispered through the underbrush, hunting for prey or looking for shelter. Father Tremo sat on a chalk coloured rock slope, gazing into the little flames as they licked over the small branches he had gathered that evening. The stew in the pot on top of the fire was thin and almost tasteless. It was all he had and coming by more was almost impossible. Only a miracle could help him, but his hope for it was almost completely gone. Soon he would be forced to leave his post. Soon, if he wanted to continue living. But what kind of life was this? Was it even worth continuing?

Orphaned at a young age, Tremo knew only the life of a Franciscan as he was raised within the order. The minimalist lifestyle of the order had never bothered him, as he never wished for more than God would offer him. Wanting to stay with the monks, he had started early on to follow their ideals and showed a penchant for the scripture. His devotion and studies culminated in his ordination as a priest, but mere hours later, all of his joy dwindled as the Divine Lord made his appearance.

Tremo still remembered the Divine Lord's face as he had seen it that day on the street to the city. He had the face of an angel. Even, untouched by any sickness or worry. His blue eyes as bright as the sky. His golden hair shining as if a kissed by sunlight. Back then, this man had seemed like an incarnation of a saint or a real angel as he rode along the street, followed by what appeared as formidable knights in shining armour. But not a day after he had entered the city, he had shown his true intentions and taken over the land with monsters and demons following his call.

From that day onward, the whole world became bleak and desolate. The people hungry and lethargic. Once the Divine Lord had given himself this blasphemous title, he had ordered all churches to be destroyed, their reliquaries sacked and their protectors executed.

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Tremo had managed to escape. At first, he had thanked God, but his hope was slowly dying away, much akin to the tiny flame he kept himself warm with.

Suddenly, the animals fell silent. Father Tremo felt their dread as the hair at the back of his head began to stand on end. A heartbeat later, the sound of horseshoed hooves crept slowly closer, accompanied by heavy boots.

For a second, Tremo wanted to flee, but his body felt too weak to move. So, he decided to stay and await whatever end the true Lord had in store for him.

The rider appeared a moment later in the dim circle of light the fire permitted. He was tall, but his bulkiness seemed to stem from the few parts of blackened armour he wore underneath a crimson cloak. The horse he lead was pitch black and wearing chain mail underneath a crimson duvet. Yet, this image was enough to make Tremo start to tremble in fear, for the knight bore the emblem of the Divine Lord on the chestplate.

“May a weary traveler find some rest at this homely fire?” the knight asked, his voice very young, almost feminine and gentle.

“I-I have nothing to offer, Sire”, Tremo said hastily.

“But I do”, the traveler replied, and went towards the fire to throw more wood into it.

With a loud crack, the flames grew and emitted a cloud of embers. Frightened, Tremo jumped to his feet and felt the months of malnutrition catch up to him. The knight caught him and placed him back down on the cold stone. It was a gesture as kind as it was gentle, a remnant of a time long gone. Tremo didn’t appreciate it as much as he would’ve once and felt ashamed for it.

“That which I offer won’t be a feast, but a nice supper. Better than this watery stew by any metric”, the stranger said.

With those words, the stranger went to his horse and pulled two rabbits from the saddle, as well as a back of grain.

Tremo didn’t know how to feel. On one hand he needed the food to remain alive, on the other hand he worried about the knight. Didn’t he recognise his habit or the small wooden cross Tremo was hastily concealing underneath his tattered garments? The self anointed Divine Lord had ordered all members, buildings and insignias of the true Lord to be either confiscated or ransacked and destroyed. As for the humans… They were to be killed on sight. But this knight, despite showing the coat of arms of the Divine Lord, didn’t pull his sword but offered food.

“Being charitable in these times has become a rarity”, the stranger said, and threw the grain into the boiling water. “I, for once, like to keep this tradition alive. Especially with a member of the Order of Saint Francis of Assisi.”

Tremo gasped and flinched away upon hearing those words. The knight just laughed and sat down next to him without pulling away his cowl. The shadow beneath the crimson fabric was deeper than it should be. Even the light of the fire couldn’t penetrate it, despite its warm shine reflecting off the knight’s armour.

“I don't seek to harm the unfortunate, if it can be avoided”, the knight continued. “And, if I were onto killing you, little brother, then I would’ve done so without you noticing.”

“What do you want then, Sire?” Father Tremo asked without looking at the monster next to him.

“I told you already, little brother”, he replied, amused. “A good supper and a place to stay for a while.”

“I give myself over to your mercy, Sire”, he said with a sigh. “Do as you please but, please, don’t kill me.”

“Nothing easier than that”, the knight laughed and started to prepare the rabbits.