The Grey Knight by Matt

Izia was a young boy, only fourteen years of age, living in a holy temple. He had been orphaned at the age of five but was found by one of the monks of the temple. The child grew up learning of how people should be willing to lend aid to who ever needs it most, to be honorable, and to always be faithful in what you believe is right. For soon these teachings would take Izia through an unimaginable journey that no one could have predicted.

That morning, Izia awoke feeling a strange sensation. Quickly, he got out of bed, pulled out his brown pants and white shirt with a tan vest, and dressed for the day. He looked in the mirror, his light brown hair was messy as usual, for he didn’t care how he looked. The whites of his eyes were still red with sleep around the pale blue, which made the red look even darker. Izia yawned and headed down to the parlor for breakfast. The temple felt fresh and alive, but strangely eerie, as if something were supposed to happen.
“Good morning Izia,” greeted Geoffrey.
Geoffrey was a monk at the temple of the Moon Goddess, who had saved Izia from an awful death when he was five. His grey hair made him seem nice just as old men always seemed and his countless wrinkles couldn’t hide his smile, proud for how Izia had turned out. As long as Izia could remember he always smiled, and he wore a brown cloak.
Izia’s parents and he had been attacked by bandits outside the town. His parents had died, Izia lived, but barely though. However, Izia was lucky to have been found by Geoffrey, and not a moment too soon. Geoffrey had nursed Izia back to health, and raised him from then on.
“Good morning to you too, Geoffrey,” replied Izia as he walked into the parlor for breakfast.
Izia quickly devoured the food on his plate. As he left the parlor, he was greeted by the other monks of the temple. He walked down the dimly lit hall to the back door of the temple. Before he placed his hand on the door, it swung open to reveal Mourndon, one of the holy knights.
Mourndon was one of the holy knights who had helped to bring Izia back to perfect health. Mourndon was truly dedicated to the holy knights, and he never took off his armor as far as Izia knew. After a few years in the temple though, Mourndon had even agreed to teach Izia how to use a sword. Under his guidance Izia became a prodigy in the way of the blade.
Mourndon had long blonde hair, which was clearly visible since he was holding his helmet, and he also had light brown eyes that shimmered with the intensity of a true warrior.
“Off to train with the holy knights this morning Izia,” said Mourndon.
“Yes, did you already finish?” asked Izia.
“No, I’ll do that a little later today,” replied Mourndon.
Izia walked across the grass, which was still wet with dew, to get a training sword. All day he sparred with the holy knights blocking, parrying, and striking until dinner. Izia hurried to the parlor as fast as his exhausted body could carry him.
After dinner, Izia headed to the large, oak, front door of the temple.
“Where might you be heading so late at night Izia?”
Izia spun around to see Geoffrey standing behind him. The old monk was stern but gentle when questioning Izia.
“It’s a beautiful night for a walk don’t you think?” replied Izia.
“Yes, very well, be back soon or I’ll come looking for you,” said Geoffrey.
“I always do Geoffrey,” stated Izia as he walked out the front door.
The door slowly creaked, as Izia walked off into the cool, early, fall night. He walked through the town, enjoying the peace and quiet without the hustle and bustle of the townsfolk. Izia hadn’t been out an hour when he heard something like a whisper off in the distance. Quickly, he followed the sound of the distant voice to a dark alleyway.
“I said hand over the gold now!” said a dark intimidating figure. His deep raspy voice sent shivers down Izia’s spine.
“Please I have no gold with me. Don’t kill me!” screamed the old man.
Izia reached for his sword slowly, but it was too late, the figure pulled his sword and ran it through the scared old man. Now, Izia drew his sword with haste, the metal rubbing against the sheath let out a ring. The dark figure whirled around, with his sword’s blade going sideways straight toward Izia. However, the evil crook was too slow, for Izia ran his sword through him before he could even get close to harm Izia.
Izia withdrew his now crimson blade, and looked at it as the blood glinted in the moonlight. To think he had actually killed a man made him sick to his stomach. Still, it was the right thing to do since he had taken an evil man off the face of the planet.
“Oi what’s going on here?”
Izia felt about ready to spew when he turned around to see a town guard. The guard lowered the torch he was carrying to look at Izia. Then, he spied the two dead bodies on the ground. Finally, he looked to the bloodied sword in Izia’s hand.
“Well now, it looks like I just caught a murderer in the act of fleeing the crime. Now, you come with me quietly or I’ll drag you to the prison, or I might just kill you if you put up a fight,” said the guard with an ominous grin on his face.

Geoffrey awoke the next morning with a feeling that something awful had happened, or that something awful was about to happen. He got up to go and see if Izia had come back to the temple or not. Silently, Geoffrey walked down the endless stone corridors in the pale, grey light of early morning that managed to pass through the fog outside. Finally, he reached Izia’s room. When he opened the door, to his surprise, Izia wasn’t there. Now, Geoffrey started to get a little nervous about Izia.
All morning, Geoffrey went around the temple questioning everyone if they had seen Izia. Unfortunately, no one had seen him since the other day. Geoffrey was now panicked wondering what could have happened to Izia while he was out last night.
Noon came and Geoffrey left the temple to search for Izia. Throughout town there seemed to be no one. No matter how much Geoffrey searched he couldn’t find Izia. Then, he walked by the prison only to notice a group of people standing around for some poor soul to be beheaded. However, Geoffrey had no time too stand and watch some awful prisoner to be sent to their death.

Izia walked slowly through the thick fog toward the guillotine only imagining how all this could have happened to him. The black cloaked executioner stood there holding the rope to the blade that would soon meet with Izia’s neck. Suddenly, the man holding the rope as a leash bound to Izia’s hands gave a yank on it. At the guillotine, Izia was slowly pushed over to be put in the guillotine. Then, he saw the man still had his sword in his belt, and slowly but carefully he reached for the sword. The crowd was too busy to notice the prisoner reaching for a weapon.
Izia yanked the sword out of its sheath and whirled it upward into the rope attaching him to the man. He quickly flipped the sword upside down to cut the rope around his wrists. The executioner suddenly realized what was happening, and withdrew his sword. He lunged at Izia, but Izia blocked the blow, and before anyone knew what had happened Izia rolled his wrist disarming the executioner.
Izia ran to the guillotine before the watchers could try to grab him, and scurried up it. Without hesitation he jumped just barely managing to grab the prison wall. Quickly, he threw on the black cloak of the exectioner. However, in the distance over the yells of the people, Izia heard a sound like rushing wind. In the distance, through the fog, there was a small shimmering light moving through the sky coming upon them. Suddenly, Izia knew what it was, but before he could yell the ball of flames hit the prison launching dust and flaming debris everywhere.
Izia barely managed to land on his feet as the prison wall fell to the ground. His once black cloak was now scorched and covered in dust, turning it a deep shade of grey. Then, through all of the commotion and fog Izia could hear the enemy soldiers approaching.
“Kill all who oppose you, and take the city!” shouted a deep groggy voice through the fog to the enemies who he was apparently the leader of.
Izia quickly grabbed his fallen sword, which lay at his feet. Right when he stood up, a soldier jumped over the pile of rubble that was once the prison wall, and swung his sword at Izia.
Blocking the blow, Izia moved to the right and swung his sword up toward the soldier’s throat. However, he blocked the blow and with both hands swung his sword down straight at Izia’s head. Izia rolled to the left, jumped up as the soldier’s sword clanged against the ground, and ran his sword through the soldier’s back. The soldier crumpled as though he had been struck by lightning.
With a moment to collect himself, Izia could here the sound of steel bashing against one another in the distance. He ran to the cover of a nearby house close to the chaos to see what exactly was going on. Izia saw guards fighting the awful invaders trying to gain ground after the surprise attack. Suddenly, an enemy appeared behind Izia swinging a battle hammer.
The monstrosity of a man was as pale as the fog that lingered around the city. He was much taller than Izia and looked down upon like a cat to a mouse. His muscles bulged from the size of the hammer, and he wore no shirt.
However, shocked by the sudden attack, Izia barely managed to get his sword up to block the attack. He fell backward under the power coming from the weight of the hammer striking his sword. Swiftly, Izia swung his sword toward the side of the attacker, but he was too quick and blocked the shot with the handle of the hammer. Izia scrambled to regain his footing after his sword glanced off the handle of the hammer.
Another swing of the hammer came and Izia barely managed to duck out of the way. Then, with both hands he swung his sword with every ounce of strength in his body but it was useless, the soldier swung his hammer and the weapons met, knocking Izia back to the ground. He barely managed to jump back up off the ground without falling. The soldier reared back and kicked Izia through the door that lead to the cellar of the house. Izia fell splintering the wood and hit the stone floor going unconscious.
Izia awoke not knowing what exactly had happened. All he could remember was the explosion, and fighting the soldier outside the house. He stood up slowly noticing his sore body and throbbing head. Once he was up, he brushed of the splinters and pulled the hood of his grey cloak over his head. When he climbed up the stairs to the fresh air, he noticed that the town was partly demolished, and completely abandoned. The tower, which was once, the grey stoned prison lay on nearby houses. Even the cozy feeling of the living area with homes of many people was gone due to the destruction of the houses.
He walked slowly, for his body throbbed with excruciating pain for every movement. There was still a little fog out but not much. It gave the town a ghastly feeling to it. The buildings all had damage to them and some were half fallen down, and bodies with blood littered the ground. Izia saw where the fighting had started and looked for where it went, perhaps even to where it was. He walked to the square where he last remembered seeing the awful battle. He saw the carts of merchants smashed to splinters, and all the shops in the square were either empty or filled with debris of once valuable good. Izia listened intently for even the slightest sound of footsteps or steel, but nothing, the sound of nothing made the town that much more eerie.
Izia looked through the still dense fog to see that the main gate of the town had been smashed down. He walked through the opening in the wall, which was once a great gate, to only see a few bodies of guards and enemies scattered across the country side to the woods. Stopping Izia just looked at all the people who had lost their lives fighting for the innocent, just as he was taught by Mourndon. With no hope of finding anyone alive, Izia looked to the sky to see what time of day it might be, but the fog wouldn’t allow it. It wasn’t hard to guess it was close to night since it was darker than he remembered.
Izia knew now that he couldn’t stay in town in case the soldiers came back. For he would be greatly out numbered. Onward Izia walked, through the woods, but walking became difficult since the wet grass soaked through his boots hurting his feet even more than they were. He marched onward until he saw a cave he used to play in when he was younger. He knew that this would be shelter until morning came, and then he would continue his search for the holy knights and the monks.
He looked out at the once beautiful meadow, he could still see the blood destroying the natural beauty, and the trees the magnificence overlooked now to the bodies pinned to them with swords. It made him wish that this hadn’t happened, so he did nothing. Izia sat and waited in the cave, until he heard a rustle, but he thought it might merely be a rabbit so he relaxed. However, the noise came again and this time Izia knew it was far too big not be a threat.
“Show yourself, or I’ll kill you now,” said Izia with as much authority as a fourteen year old could muster.
“Izia, is that you?” whispered a weak voice.
“Yes, but is that you Mourndon?” questioned Izia with hope that he would be reunited with his friend.
“Ai lad it is, I still can’t believe you lived,” said Mourndon very weakly.
“Are you alright Mourndon?” asked a nervous Izia.
“Yes, now please go get some firewood, and we’ll talk when you get back,” said Mourndon
Izia hurried to get the firewood so he could speak with his friend. However, because of the fog most of the wood was damp so it took at least an hour to get enough for a fire. He ran as fast as his sore body would allow to get back to Mourndon. When Izia got back he knew Mourndon wouldn’t talk without the fire so he set too work starting it. It wasn’t long before the light of the fire flashed, and Izia could see why Mourndon’s voice was so weak.
His friend was covered in bloody rags to stop the bleeding of a large open wound on his ribs. It startled Izia for this wasn’t his friend it was a mere shadow of the proud man who was one of the greatest swordsmen ever. Even though the sight was sickening, he couldn’t help but stare.
“I know it looks bad, but Geoffrey said I’d be ready to fight in only a few days, so don’t look so glum. Now, tell me where have you been? The fighting started yesterday morning at the prison, and it’s already evening.”
Izia was shocked, but started telling the story of how he had been arrested and knocked unconscious.
“Ah, so you’ve been through a lot eh? Well at least you’re alright,” said Mourndon his voice still weak.
“What about you, what exactly happened?” asked an eager Izia.
“Very well, since you’re so anxious I’ll tell you. The fighting had already reached the square by the time the holy knights were armed and ready. It was truly awful, for the surprise attack had already left many guards dead, but thanks to you plenty were there to fight because of your little show. Anyway, the fighting moved to the forest and we fought through the night against this band of assassins, murderers, and all sorts of prisoners and wanted people. Apparently they’ve joined forces to overthrow the king as far as I know.” “Why did they decide to overthrow the king?” blurted Izia.
“Well I guess someone figured that they would be locked away eventually, but if they controlled the prison they would be free. Anyway, we fought as hard as we could, but all the other holy knights had left to protect all the survivors, and get them to safety. Then around midnight, things got bad and the fighting spread out away from town into small groups and single soldiers. Of course this is where I was one of the single soldiers and got hit, but Geoffrey came in and saved me. He then dragged me here and we stayed not daring to leave even when the sound of the fight died down a bit before dawn,” finished Mourndon with grief running thickly through his weak voice.
“So where is Geoffrey, and how on Earth did he save you?” questioned Izia anxiously.
“We never knew that he used to be probably the best royal guard ever. However, he now is looking to see whether or not it’s safe out, and he should be back soon,” said Mourndon.
Izia was happy that his two most beloved friends were both still alive. It was still hours though before Geoffrey got back. Izia thought he would burst with all the joy he felt to see the old monk again.
“Izia, thank the Moon Goddess you’re alright! I don’t know how you got here, but I don’t think I want to hear the details,” the old monk spoke softly and slowly, but it was easy to hear the joy in his words.
“Mourndon, I’m afraid I couldn’t find anyone else or any evidence of a victory, but it seems more so that we lost the battle,” said Geoffrey now losing his joy.
“No, we haven’t lost yet! We can still fight,” argued Izia
“Oh and how shall we do that, Izia, we are but three and they are many. We would surely lose within seconds against their forces. Through all the fighting we hardly even scratched the surface of their numbers, and there were more than just the ones who fought,” said Geoffrey briskly.
“Well I say if we go to the other major cities we could form a resistance and defeat them,” said Izia triumphantly.
“I see no flaw in your plan Izia, but I did find a dying scout and from what he managed to say before his soul went to rest the western city was also overtaken,” said Geoffrey with a sense of lost hope.
“Geoffrey we still have a chance, since there are five cities and our eastern city has been destroyed and the western city under siege, we could go to the northern and southern cities. After all, the holy knights probably headed south since it’s the closest,” said Izia with undying hope.
“Izia, I agree since your logic is sensible, but why not head to the capitol in the middle? It would have the most reinforcements available to us,” said Geoffrey with a puzzled expression.
“Simple. It will probably be next, so we should go to northern and southern cities to come in the battle, since it will have probably already started. Then, we have a better chance of victory with their numbers tired and depleted,” said Izia happily.
“Izia, your logic is far beyond your years, so in two days when Mourndon is healed, due to the time for the affects of the prayers I used, we will split up and form the resistance,” said Geoffrey who couldn’t help letting out a smile at the boy who had grown so much since losing his parents.

After two days, the fog lifted and Izia was ready to fight against the opposing forces. He and Mourndon would go to the northern city to get all the reinforcements possible, while Geoffrey would go to the southern city. Then, at the capitol in the middle of the country the fight would begin. This would be the last stand. The only hope of an entire country was left to an orphan, a monk, and a knight.
“Are you ready Izia?” said Geoffrey.
“Yes, I am, but do you think we’ll make it in time, or will we be too late and fail?” asked Izia his confidence failing him.
“Ai Izia, we will make it, and we’ll kill all those fools who dared to oppose us,” stated Mourndon in a battle ready tone.
They walked out of the cave, staring at the rising sun through the remaining mist. Saying their goodbyes they parted, Izia and Mourndon heading north and Geoffrey going south. The travel was long and tiring, but Izia and Mourndon pressed onward toward the northern city knowing that they must not stop, for every moment was of the essence. It was late afternoon before the snow started to fall indicating only a few hours before they would enter the northern city.
The hike up the mountain was long and hard, for with every step the snow gave way, and a few times they slipped and fell on the fresh powdery snow. However, before sunset, they were standing at the large oak doors of the main gate to the northern city. Mourndon pounded ferociously on the gate. A guard came to see the commotion and looked down.
“Who goes there?” asked the watchman.
“It is Mourndon of the holy knights, and Izia of the temple of the Moon Goddess. We are here on urgent business of the eastern city, and we must speak to the count,” stated Mourndon.
“Very well, but the count will not enjoy being disturbed even if it is urgent,” said the guard with a stern tone.
The gates swung open and Izia and Mourndon headed into the snowy city. They hurriedly marched to the front gates of the castle. Mourndon lifted his fist to strike the door, but before he could the massive door swung open revealing the entry hall.
“Excuse me sirs, but do you have an appointment with the count?” asked the steward.
“No, but it’s very urgent that we speak with the count,” stammered Izia, for he was getting anxious to get to the capitol.
“I’m sorry but if you don’t have an appointment it isn’t urgent,” stated the steward.
“Listen to me you pail little toad, move or I’ll move you myself, got it!” shouted Mourndon in an angry fury.
The pathetic man shriveled and Izia and Mourndon headed through to the throne room where the count sat looking rather bored and sleepy.
“Who dares approach me unannounced?” asked the count rather rudely.
“I do, Izia, and it’s a matter of the existence of the entire country that we speak to you. The western and eastern cities have been taken over, and the capitol is next. We need you to give us reinforcements to fight the army of outlaws trying to take over the kingdom,” said Izia rushing to get all the information out as quickly as possible.
“Well, I had someone else say that they had heard of this, but I thought it was just a rumor. So it did happen, well then I’m glad to say that out of the seventy five guards only ten should stay behind. I hope that all goes well, and you come out victorious in this fight. It will only be a few minutes, and then you can go back and fight. Please win this fight for our country,” finished the count changing drastically from what he was once like.
It seemed as if the count came straight out of a denial of what had happened. However, Izia and Mourndon were off with over sixty troops back to the capitol. In only a few hours they were on the hills surrounding the capitol city. They sat on the hills preparing for when the battle would start, when a sudden light on the hills opposite of them flickered. Izia stared but then realized it was Geoffrey, using a system of communicating if Izia was lost in the woods.
Izia quickly lit a lamp, which the soldiers brought with them, and used the flashes to signal he was there, and then the night became motionless since they knew where each other were. Through the night Izia stayed up on watch, too anxious to sleep at all. However, Mourndon came over and told him to sleep. So Mourndon took watch and Izia soon fell into a deep sleep.
Suddenly, Izia was awoken by a thundering boom from down beneath the hills. The enemy had used a catapult to destroy the main wall and started heading through into the capitol. All the soldiers were already awake checking to see if they were ready, and they were. In moments the reinforcements were charging down the hill toward the capitol city.
Shots from the catapult had destroyed a part of the wall close by allowing Izia and the others to head straight into the capitol. Inside the walls, the sound of steel rang through the air, weapons crushing armor sounded through the city, and the worst sound was the screaming of the terrified people trying to escape their demise.
Izia ran straight towards the crowd of guards, holy knights, and southern reinforcements. He ran his sword through the back of an enemy soldier, and pulled out the crimson blade swinging it toward another enemy sending droplets of blood through the air. The blade sliced through his armor crumpling him at Izia’s feet. The air that morning was cool and crisp invigorating Izia, making him want to kill. Then, the others managed to catch up killing many before the enemy realized they were being attacked and started fighting back.
Izia grabbed a bloodied sword at his feet, and looked up just in time to see a man charging him with a claymore. The man lifted the claymore above his head and swung down upon Izia, but Izia crossed both swords blocking the claymore. Then, swinging both swords sent the claymore backwards, reared back, and stepped forward stabbing one sword into the man and the other into an oncoming enemy.
He pulled both swords out of the dead corpses and flipped them in his hands stabbing backwards where he heard two enemies approaching. Before they could react, they were dead, and Izia saw two more enemies yet again coming toward him. Izia crouched down, took a few steps forward, and leapt up running his blade up the fronts of them, leaving more bodies on the ground.
In the air, Izia flipped his blade back upright and swung the blades diagonally at another soldier leaving an x across his body. Hours went by, but still the fighting continued and Izia’s grey cloak was dotted with crimson, then Izia met up with Geoffrey. He gave him a smile before sending his sword through an enemy’s throat, and he swung the other sword slicing another’s neck.
Again Izia kept going on a complete genocide of the enemy forces hearing something of a hero called the Grey Knight helping in the fight. However, after many hours he retreated to an abandoned alleyway to catch his breath. Izia stumbled over a corpse into the alleyway. While heaving slowly and heavily to regain his strength he noticed the destruction of the capitol. The once beautiful garden district with elegant houses and lushes flowers were falling down and covered in blood. Then, Izia went back to paying attention to the alleyway in which he was resting. He wasn’t alone though, for he heard a mighty thud, and looked over to see the hammer bearing warrior kill a guard of the capitol.
The behemoth looked up, “Well back for another go round boy?” sneered the brute seeing Izia’s face since he had taken down his hood for a moment. His voice sounded so familiar to Izia. Then he remembered the voice in the fog, he was the leader of the enemy.
“Oh trust me, we won’t meet again after this,” smirked Izia.
“Yeah, since I’m going to crush your head and smear your blood across the street,” and with that he charged Izia.
The giant swung his hammer to the side and Izia stepped right in front of it, crossing both swords to block the blow. He swung his swords back and whipped one toward the behemoth’s back. However, he flipped his massive hammer blocking Izia with the handle. Then, he swung his hammer up at Izia’s chin, but Izia back flipped and landed.
He swung at the monstrosity as he tried to regain his stance, but it didn’t work and yet another shot was blocked. Using his brute strength the colossal beast moved the hammer upward and swung at Izia’s leg. Izia barely moved out of the way as the hammer shattered the stone paved alley. Izia soon lost confidence as it seemed as if he would never win.
The two fought their way out of the alleyway and back into the street where the battle had moved to. They fought on blocking, parrying, and striking trying to get the upper hand. However, it soon became quiet, for the only thing Izia could hear was the sound of his own swords striking against the hammer. Everyone, allies and enemies alike, had stopped fighting and stared at the pair fighting, looking for a single opening.
Then, the behemoth raised his hammer, “Your time just ran out kid!” and swung the hammer down toward Izia’s head. However, Izia spun out of the way, and as the hammer struck the ground he ran his sword through the behemoth’s back. The beastly man fell to the side onto the ground, dead by the hands of Izia. Suddenly, the sound of weapons hitting stone was heard all through the capitol.
Izia looked around, and the enemy had apparently given up and thrown their weapons to the ground.
Then a royal knight yelled out, “The Grey Knight has defeated the king of the bandits!” The whole crowd of people started to cheer as Izia just realized that he was apparently the Grey Knight.
After that day, all returned to normal, and Izia was known as the hero of the entire kingdom. However, he lived his life the same way, except for wearing a grey cloak most of the time. The most unlikely person, a fourteen year old boy, at the wrong place at the wrong time, was the savior of an entire nation.
Ten years later though, Geoffrey died of old age, and as a cool breeze is on a hot day, the Grey Knight vanished. Only Mourndon ever heard from him again, and the people always asked where he was, but their question was never answered. He had disappeared as Geoffrey had and no one ever knew what happened. However, some say he died in a fight, others say he had an injury and died after the battle, but some say he’s out there and he’ll be back when the world is in the greatest need of a hero.