Chapter Text
Once upon a time, there was a knight. He walked alone.
Aimless, bitter, wandered he, and hoped for grief's decrease.
Memories escaped his grasp. He searched, searched for a home.
So, Libestal - Kingdom stained - therein he found his peace.
King and Queen, he found. A guild, Cerulean, as well.
And in his Pearl, the Lady Watson, love that would not cease.
Before his sword and empathy, the Stains recoiled and fell.
Content and humble, sallied forth the knight in cape of white.
And with his guild, he found within, his loneliness dispelled.
His spirit is alight where it once was bitter. His sword feels familiar, not alien. His oath to Queen and Kingdom stands firm. It is unwavering.
Ser Gonathon G. is a mere humble knight.
The days have passed hectically in Libestal after the heroes' first encounter with the Stain King, and still they do.
The Stains wander outside the walls freely. Libestal is in desperate need of supplies, and moreover, salvation.
And so.
Gonathan does what a humble knight does. He toils tirelessly, knowing that he must support his Queen and Kingdom. Alms, he gives to the poor. Swords, he provides to the armoury. Dreams, he encourages in the young. And honour, he stokes in all hearts.
But the enigma remains.
It was the power of Revelation that drove back the Stain King. Yet its strength is as none know.
He and his fellow heroes search for memories made foreign to them. They search for a power that is beyond them. And Gonathon knows in his heart that the enigma must not remain so forever.
The day that they come upon the gate to the Underworld is the day the enigma begins to crack.
In a timeless realm, Gonathan and his companions fight the dead.
And at its end, a memory awaits him and his companions all.
It is the memory of the Reaper.
His power of Revelation grows.
And so too does a seed of worry.
The days become weeks. The weeks months. And the work continues. The Stain King has not returned, yet Gonathon fears the kingdom will never quite be ready.
Like his many companions, he ventures out, slaying wandering Stains and preparing the kingdom for what is to come.
The dungeons beckon, and within, they find Revelation. Within, they find memories. Those of an Atlantean shark. Those of an eldritch maiden.
And as darkness seeps into the Kingdom, and the Queen departs on expedition, the joy within Gonathon births a small bitterness.
It festers in him as his power of Revelation grows, and with it, realisation.
One day, this will all be memory. And he will be no longer.
And his Pearl will be no longer.
Why does he fear that so?
Once upon a time, there was a knight.
His Queen afar, the land corrupt. At war.
Still humble, noble, strong. His heart was right.
His friends returned with memories restored.
But gone were those he'd known. His peace had flown.
He wished... that ne'er 'gain be revealed... this lore.
He knows.
He knows his Pearl has memories of her own.
And when they return, she may remember old wishes and old loves. They may push aside new ones. He cannot burden her with those of a stranger.
Gonathon accepts in his heart that she may desire to move on. That she may be lost to him soon.
But if he could say he shone just as brightly in her memory, if only for a moment, is that not enough?
The day he emerges from the sewers is the most conflicted he has been. The memories there are those of his Pearl. More does he understand her. And in a way, it is the closest he has ever felt to her.
And yet. He knows what she does not. And when they have returned to even footing, who will she be to him?
That, he does not know. But he need not cry over nothing. His Pearl will be complete, entirely herself. When she is ready. It is a happy thing.
The days pass. And Gonathon's selfish thoughts turn to loneliness. He pours himself into the statue of the Queen. He showers his Pearl with his love. A statue for her too, yes. One day soon.
And then, it is one day, soon.
That day, his Pearl returns from expedition, from the place her memories lay. Where they could become truly hers once more.
Gonathon is at work when she emerges from Queen Mario's keep.
His Pearl approaches, and he runs up to her.
Her smile is radiant, and her eyes bright. Somewhere in there is the warmth of recollection. Is some of that warmth still for him?
He longs to hear her voice. "My dear sweet Pearl! Hello!"
"I am your Pearl?"
Despite himself, his voice stumbles. Does she no longer love him?
"I heard that... you had gotten your memories back."
"Yes... And you are?"
His voice catches. He can suddenly no longer meet her eyes.
Now he realises.
The brightness and warmth in her eyes is not for him. There is nothing there for him. Desire, hope, love, comfort, the promise of life together. Nothing.
Not even the sparkle of memory.
He bows. He is just a mere humble knight, and he says so.
From her own mouth, he learns her name. Amelia. It is a memory. A joyous memory. It is a happy thing.
For Amelia, it is a memory of their meeting. For him, a memory of farewell.
It is not long after they part.
He finds a book upon which to write. He finds a corner in town where he will not be disturbed. It is not far from where he and his Pearl first became co-conspirators. Perhaps it was here also where their love first took root.
The prayer in him will not reach the gods. And so he will hide that prayer here instead, deep within the kingdom that is now his home.
He finds the words come to him as slowly and unsteadily as the movement of his pen on paper.
He need not cry. His Pearl is her own now. It is a happy thing.
And so.
In lieu of tears, he spills ink. In lieu of tissues, parchment accepts his sorrow.
And when he has no more words - when his mouth is dry and his eyes emptied - he signs his story. A silly little fiction, really. Knights too can have silly little dreams.
He is merely surprised at how heavy the pages feel.
The book takes him to where a book ought. The library.
There, he hands it to Cecilia the Green to be put on the shelves. There, he entombs his thoughts. The library can be the final resting place of his Pearl. Of his selfish wishes. Of his greed.
He takes his leave.
There is still darkness in the kingdom. There are swords to be made and Stains to be slain, if his queen is to return to a kingdom ready for rightful rule.
He takes up his own sword, and with it, the power of Revelation.
Even a lone diamond can still shine; it can reflect the stars in the night.
And it can take the weight of the world before it breaks.
Once upon a time, there was a knight. He walked alone.
On dark nights, when there was nothing to hope for and no one to hear his prayers, he walked alone.
The kingdom teetering on the brink was loud. But he could not hear it over the sound of his heart. He stood alone.