The Twice-blessed Paladin

The morning sun paints the sky in hues of orange and gold as Aldric mounts his black steed, a sturdy warhorse provided by Edric Valthorne for the journey.

The nobleman, dressed in fine traveling attire rather than his usual merchant robes, adjusts his riding gloves before mounting his own chestnut stallion.

The two ride side by side, leaving Black Hollow behind and heading toward Gildan's Reach, the largest city in the region.

Edric turns to Aldric as they pass through the eastern farmlands. "It will take us three days to reach the city by horseback. I thought it best to accompany you personally—to introduce you to the guild and ensure you have the right connections."

Aldric remains silent for a moment before nodding. "A generous offer."

Edric chuckles. "Generosity has nothing to do with it. I want results. And after hearing what you did in Black Hollow, I believe you are the man to get them."

Aldric studies the nobleman as they ride. Sharp-eyed, confident, calculating. A man used to dealing in favors and influence.

He would be a dangerous enemy—or a useful ally.

But there is another matter.

"Valthorne," Aldric says at last, testing the name on his tongue. "Your family name. It is… old."

Edric raises an eyebrow. "That it is. Why do you ask?"

Aldric keeps his voice measured. "Curiosity. I have studied history. The name was once tied to a noble house of warriors and scholars."

Edric nods, seemingly pleased. "A rare thing, to meet someone who knows that. The House of Valthorne was once among the greatest in the old kingdom. But that was centuries ago."

Aldric grips his reins a little tighter. "What happened to them?"

Edric exhales, his tone shifting to something more reflective.

"When the kingdom fell over two hundred years ago, most noble families were either wiped out or absorbed into the new ruling order. Valthorne was no exception."

He glances at Aldric. "The name survived, but the power did not. We became merchants, landowners—lesser nobility at best."

Aldric listens intently.

"My lineage… survived?"

Edric continues. "Some say we were lucky. Other houses were completely erased. But the truth is, we are little more than a shadow of what we once were."

He smirks. "Still, the blood of warriors runs deep. My grandfather was a knight, and my father, though a merchant, trained in swordplay. I, too, was taught—but I found my talents better suited to politics and business."

Aldric nods slowly.

His house, his name, his family line had survived the fall of the kingdom.

But it had become something else.

He feels an odd sense of conflict.

Pride, that his bloodline endured.

Sadness, that the world forgot what they once were.

It was not just his gods who were erased from history—but his own name as well.

But he does not reveal his thoughts.

Instead, he asks, "And what of the old kingdom? What remains of it?"

Edric sighs. "Ruins. Abandoned cities. Ghost stories." He gives Aldric a curious look. "Why the interest in history, knight?"

Aldric meets his gaze. "Because history has a way of being… rewritten."

Edric chuckles. "A fair point. But trust me, Sir Aldric, what was lost is unlikely to rise again. The world has moved on."

Aldric simply looks ahead.

"We shall see."

The journey is uneventful for the first two days, but as they draw closer to Gildan's Reach, they pass more travelers, merchants, and patrols.

One evening, as they set up camp, Aldric hears whispers in the passing caravans.

"...That knight—the one from Black Hollow…"

"Some say he's blessed by gods. But not the ones we know."

"A new god? Or an old one, forgotten?"

Aldric smirks slightly as he sharpens his blade by the fire.

His name is spreading.

His gods are being spoken of.

This is only the beginning.

By mid-morning on the third day, they crest a hill—and Gildan's Reach comes into view.

Aldric slows his horse.

The city is massive, far larger than Black Hollow—a sprawling metropolis of stone walls, towering spires, and countless districts stretching toward the horizon.

Merchants and travelers crowd the roads leading to the gates, their banners flying in the breeze. Knights and city guards patrol the walls, watching the flow of people entering and leaving.

"Welcome to Gildan's Reach," Edric says, smiling. "Your new home—for now."

Aldric studies the city.

A place of power, wealth, and corruption.

A place where his gods' names will be remembered once more.

He grips his sword and rides toward the gates