In a knight’s full accoutrement he stood at the prow of the ship. His armour had been cleaned and burnished to perfection, and the fine trappings that went over the full plate were made of the finest materials around. The red symbolized the blood of the warrior, blue the valour, and courage was signified by the gold detailing on the edge of the tabard and cloak. The final detailing in colour was of the white feathers forming the plume atop the crest of his helmet; it was white that represented the purity of the Paladin and their unblemished soul.

His faceplate was in the up position, letting him clearly see the sunrise emerging from the horizon over the sea. To face the sunrise was to greet the light of the world; its burning intensity rising to a crescendo to burn away the terrors of the night. There was no need for his sword to be drawn, or any reason to be guarding himself from the most hallowed moment of the day. The only sound present as he journeyed was that of the sea.

It came in a beat of three. Once, twice and thrice the arrows struck the clay pots near him. But the warrior could not be surprised. The flames spread quickly from the potent mix of chemicals contained in the jar, catching fire thanks to the last arrow fired. Still the ship sailed as the sun emerged over the ocean, flames lapping away at his body.

Into the sun the Knight and his ship blazed, to be returned to the fires that gave birth to them all. For one taken so young, it was the highest honour. As he had given his life fighting against the dark, he would enter the afterlife through the sacred fire to purge his form of any contagion.

From the shore chants for the dead were sung by the fellows of his order. They watched his progress, proud of his fight and determined in their cause.


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