Annabeth

You were known across the lands far and wide. Your willingness to do anything with no questions asked put you in a questionable position with many people, but your skills couldn’t be denied. Neither man nor otherworldly beast could overcome your might. The greatest warrior in the lands, you were never wanting for money or food.

It was a day like any other, shortly after killing a debtor who had fled from his dues, that you were approached. The sound of swift hoofbeats put you on guard, though the slight jingle that came from the carriage told a different story. Curious, you wiped the blood off your blade and turned toward the source of the noise.

It was a carriage like you’d guessed, though far more ornate than any you’d seen before. Its edges were lined with gold, the walls were made of a lighter wood not available anywhere near these forests, and the driver wore an elaborate outfit compared to the cloth dregs that most others wore. Even the horses were decked out in shining harnesses with flowers braided into their manes.

They approached you through the center of the forest, moving at a dangerous pace with all the roots around that could trip them up. The driver remained steadfast however, his gaze tracking you as you moved toward the path through the woods.

You sheathed your blade. The carriage slowed to a stop at your side. The driver seemed frazzled, leaving you wondering who had requested such a breakneck ride. A glance at the covered windows showed you would not earn your answer that way.

“Y-you are The Unquestioning Knight, yes?” the driver asked.

You gave a single nod. “You carry gold, yes?” Your mind equated rich with gold, which, in your line of work, was a necessary equation to make.

“W-well, actually—”

The latch on the door clicked. You stepped back as it swung outward. You were thankful you’d chosen to wear your helmet because it hid the mild surprise on your face as the king stepped out.

He was tall, almost as tall as you, but not physically imposing, instead seeming rather lanky. The fur-lined cloak pulled much of the weight in making him appear bulkier. The crown on his head was made of gold, though you could see the tiniest crevices where blood and sweat had tarnished the metal. Your entire assumption about the king had been that he was another silent ruler, but perhaps you were wrong about that.

“You know who I am.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement to the king.

“Of course. No questions, correct?”

You nodded. “Half of the payment upfront.”

“And what shall that be? A pile of gold? A hart from my forest? Or do you long for something more?”

“What do you wish me to do, Your Highness?”

The king glanced around, ensuring their surroundings were safe, then beckoned you away from the carriage. You noted how easy it would’ve been to kill him now but held back. Better to keep the villages off your back than to end their ruler, no matter how much wealth he may have possessed.

“There is a prophecy,” the king started.

“I don’t do prophecies.” Of everything you dealt with, you always stayed far away from prophecies. They often ended up messy, whether it was killing one’s father and marrying their mother or offing a king in the deluded hopes that the killer would become king.

“I’m not asking you to destroy the great evil. We have a plan in place for that already.”

You removed your helmet so the king could see the skepticism in your gaze. “Go on.”

“A priestess named Annabeth has been chosen to journey to the source of the unholy being’s power. You merely need to protect her along the way.”

Your gaze narrowed further. “Prophecy adjacent. I demand a chest of gold and precious jewels.”

“But—”

You put your helmet back on. “My price has been stated. Half of it before we depart and the rest upon our return.”

“Th-there’s more.”

“I don’t need to know,” you insisted.

“Yes, you do.”

You glanced at the king. There was now desperation visible in his eyes, a hint of something greater underlying this entire situation. You ordinarily never pried, but in a situation such as this, you had no choice but to press the subject. “What?”

“I will tell all in the carriage.”

* * *

The priestess was young, only fifteen years of age from what you had been told. Yet, according to the rest of her group, she was the most capable for such a mission such as this. Whether it was her constant effervescence that kept the gloom of the world at bay from her thoughts or the inherent strength of her mind and soul, you knew not. All you knew was that she was your charge.

The journey across the lands was slow and laborious. Though your choice of steeds was always among the greatest in the lands, the requirement for both of you to be on a single horse complicated matters.

Across the days, you journeyed through villages and the countryside alike, visiting the citizens of the kingdom so the priestess could reassure them of their impending freedom.

You kept your nose out of it, wanting to remain as distant from the prophecy as possible. You were already tangled up too far in it, though there was no avoiding this one.

She always tried to talk with you whenever you were riding. Her voice was far too sweet. She had to have known what she was getting herself into. Yet, there was no sense of fear or regret as she headed off to fulfill the prophecy. She was just as eager to end the threat as a dog was to gobble up a meal, it seemed.

You never talked back, though you listened. You hung onto every word, realizing these could be the last ones anyone heard from her. You gave her an ear that you weren’t certain anyone else ever had. When your journey neared the halfway point, you couldn’t remain quiet anymore.

Your responses started simple, grunts or nods or single words. Yet, the more you spoke with the priestess, the more you warmed up and the more you opened up. Your answers soon became full sentences, revealing more about yourself to this young girl than you had ever told anyone else. It would’ve been preposterous for you to tell anyone else, but you were confident such secrets would never again see the light of day.

As the journey neared its end, the land grew more treacherous. Foul creatures lay around every bend in the road, determined to end both your life and the priestess’s. You slew each one with ease, always making sure to keep your blade unsoiled after.

The road grew uneven, less traveled by villagers and nomads alike. The landscape shifted, forming new roads in an attempt to divert you while obfuscating the true path forward.

None of it worked, and soon enough, the heart of evil lay bare for you to see. It had centered around an abandoned temple far from civilization. Hideous beasts circled the building, keeping unwanted visitors at bay, while an inky-black miasma spiraled upward from the temple’s high windows.

“I-is that where we’re going?” the priestess asked, her voice trembling for the first time since you’d met.

You gulped and nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, all right, then.” In an instant, she was back to her bubbly self. “Let’s go, sir knight.”

Carving a swathe through the beasts was no trouble. Your blade had been honed on many of the toughest bones and forged from only the greatest of metals. If it could end the life of a dragon, then a demon would cause no trouble.

The temple interior, though filled with that same miasma high against the ceiling, bore no signs of corruption. It was empty, however, save for a single altar in the center of the room. It lay low to the ground, flat like a bed, with intricate, ancient runes carved into every inch of its surface.

The priestess headed forward while you checked the halls, ensuring there would be no disturbances.

“Is this it?” she asked. You glanced over your shoulder to find her examining the altar. “This is old magic, no doubt. Powerful, too. I wonder what—”

Her words cut off as you wrapped your hand around her throat. She struggled against your strength, hands clutching futilely at your forearm. Her nails failed to find purchase among the smooth surface of your armor.

“S-sir knight,” she wheezed out. “Wh-what is … the meaning … of this?”

You stared into her eyes. For the first time, they were afraid. Gone was her carefree nature, gone was her bravery. Now, there was nothing but panic.

“I’m sorry, young one.” You lifted her off her feet. “I’m so sorry.” She kicked at the air and squirmed. Your grasp remained firm as you forced her onto the table.

“Please … stop … The prophecy—”

“Will be fulfilled here,” you finished. You removed your helmet with your other hand, allowing her to see your eyes one final time. “It should not have been you. It should never have been you.”

You saw her eyes widen as the dagger emerged from its place at your waist. The blade was jagged, lined with runes that responded to those upon the altar. As the two found each other’s presence, the runes began to glow.

“N-no …” The priestess struggled but was unable to escape your grasp. “Th-this isn’t it … Please …” Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. “I-I’m supposed to be the savior.”

“And you will be.” You raised the blade high. “I will make certain your name alone is remembered as the one who saved all the lands.”