The Red Knight

Chapter 1: The Abbey of Memories

Sir Ronald slowly dismounted from his horse.

He was in no hurry to reach his destination. He looked to both sides to make sure he was not surrounded by bandits. His right hand went straight to the pommel of his sword, but there was not a single sound around him.

“No one’s here,” the knight whispered.

His imposing red armor stood in sharp contrast to the gray landscape that decorated such a depressing scene.

There were no trees, no bushes, no other sign of nature at all. Only a stone abbey, eaten away by time and oblivion.

“Stay here,” he ordered his horse.

The beast remained standing without making a single movement. Then Sir Ronald advanced until he reached the door of the abbey and entered.

The altar was tiny.

There were no flowers, no golden statues, no tributes. There was only a small wooden cup in the center. Sir Ronald had a bad feeling. Something inside him screamed that he should turn around, get back on his horse, and never return.

But he could not do that.

A true knight never retreated in the face of adversity.

He disobeyed common sense and took the cup between his gloved fingers.

“Abbey of Memories, I have arrived.”

Sir Ronald removed his closed helm, revealing his bare face to nothingness. He had blond hair, eyes as blue as the sky, and skin so pale it seemed made of porcelain. His features were no different from those of any peasant in the Kingdom of Koban. Were it not for his armor and longsword, he could easily have been mistaken for a stable boy.

“Sir Ronald, knight of the realm.”

A woman’s voice answered his call. It was serene like the wind, but there was a dangerous tone within it. Sir Ronald felt a chill run down his back. It was a sensation unlike the fear he had faced on so many battlefields.

This was something supernatural.

Something alien to the laws of gods and men.

“I have come to pass the abbey’s challenge. My lord needs your power to end the war,” Sir Ronald said, his voice filled with confidence. There was not the slightest hint of doubt in him.

He had accepted the greatest challenge in dark times, and if he succeeded, his name would be remembered for all eternity.

“You are well informed, Sir Ronald. Indeed, the Abbey of Memories holds a great power. What you seek is the grimoire of Abbot Antonio. Its miracles can strengthen the power of his warrior-priests and bring an end to the conflict that causes you such suffering. Oh, great knight, you undertook a suicidal task for the sake of others. How honorable. How marvelous.”

The voice began to grow louder. Sir Ronald felt the need to take a step back, but he did not. He stood firm despite the tremendous distrust that invisible entity inspired in him.

“What is the trial? I can defeat any opponent. I am the strongest knight in the kingdom.”

Sir Ronald drew his longsword, left the cup on the altar, and looked to both sides in search of the mysterious woman speaking to him from a distance.

“Oh, yes. There will be a trial. The same one faced by all those who came before you. Sir Ronald, hero of the kingdom, are you truly that confident in your strength?”

The voice grew stronger. The knight turned around, and then he saw the person who owned that sinister tone.

It was a woman.

She had black hair covered by a dark hood. Her red eyes were piercing, and at the same time, empty. She wore a gray nun’s robe, plain and even gloomy.

“Of course,” answered the red knight. “At last, you show yourself before me.”

“I am Abbess Luna, guardian of the abbey and your only obstacle to obtaining what you so deeply desire.”

“Must I fight you?”

He pointed his longsword at her, but the gesture only made the woman laugh.

“Fight me? What are you talking about?” the abbess mocked.

“Then against a monster, or something you summon,” the knight insisted.

“No. There will be no fight. You said it yourself. You are the strongest knight in the kingdom. What sense would there be in fighting someone weaker? If you fought me, you would kill me with a single slash without shedding a drop of sweat. If I summoned a monster, you would destroy it in less than the blink of an eye. I have seen your soul, Sir Ronald. You are very powerful. Perhaps the strongest person who has ever set foot in this abbey. No, your trial will not be one of strength, but of something far more complicated.”

The abbess snapped her fingers, and as she did, the world around them began to change.

A blinding light forced the aspiring challenger to close his eyes.

And when he opened them, he was no longer inside the abbey.

“W-What is this?”

Sir Ronald sheathed his sword.

The stone abbey had vanished. In its place, he saw a green plain that stretched on into infinity. The blue sky lay clear above him, without any storm clouds threatening to fall. It was the perfect landscape, worthy of a painting. And right in the middle of it, he saw a presence he had never imagined.

Himself.

Another Ronald was sitting on the ground, but he was not the imposing knight in red armor. He was a small blond boy wearing linen clothes, with an innocent look in his eyes.

The child approached him with great expectation.

“Wow, are you me? Have we become powerful?” little Ronald asked his older self.

“Yes, we did it.”

The knight could not help feeling proud of that answer.

The child’s eyes shone even brighter. He looked truly happy.

“Does that mean we can finally take revenge on the Shadow Clan?”

Suddenly, the blue sky turned black. The child’s eyes lost their color and became gray, just like on that fateful night when his family was murdered by the Shadow Clan, a group of bandits that extorted minor noble families and wealthy merchants.

“R-Revenge…”

“Yes. We’re powerful now, so why don’t we take revenge already? Have you forgotten what they did to us?”

“We cannot take revenge. First of all, they no longer exist. They were captured by justice six years ago.”

“No, no, no. They do exist. Right here, inside your memories, in your heart, in the nightmares that torment you so much.”

The child’s voice became Luna’s. Seconds later, the little boy transformed into the abbess, and she embraced the knight as if she were a forbidden lover.

Sir Ronald did not push her away.

Nor did he accept her words.

He remained there in silence, with fresh memories slowly resurfacing inside him.

He could see it over and over again in his mind.

Ronald had been training in the barracks as usual, while his parents attended to the moneylenders who, for two years, had harassed his family with absurd interest rates. At first, they had managed to endure the debt and remained calm, but the extortioners raised the fees higher and higher until they became impossible to pay.

As a final act of retaliation, they came to his home one morning and murdered his family while Ronald was training.

“A knight seeks justice, not revenge. My family’s murderers received their punishment. There is nothing more I can do,” Sir Ronald declared.

“Are you sure?”

The abbess released the knight, snapped her fingers once more, and immediately, three men appeared before him.

Sir Ronald recognized them instantly.

They were the thugs who had come to his house and murdered his parents.

He himself had attended their public execution when he was still a teenager. He had seen the executioner cut off their heads with a massive greatsword.

The first was a thin, lanky man with dark hair. The second was an obese man with chains around his legs and his torso bare. Finally, the last thug was a young man barely sixteen years old, slender, with eyes full of fear.

“You…” Sir Ronald whispered, unable to believe such a sudden apparition.

“Here they are. They look exactly as they did on the day they killed your family. You may do whatever you wish with them.”

Luna smiled mischievously and then stepped several paces back.

Sir Ronald sighed.

“Is this my trial, then? If I forgive them, I pass. If I kill them, I fail. Or is it the other way around?” the red knight said, voicing the first thought that came to mind.

Indeed.

The trial could be deceptive.

Was revenge the answer? Or forgiveness and virtue?

“No, Sir Ronald. The trial is not about seeing your wickedness or your virtue, but something far deeper… What do you truly desire?”

Chapter 2: Desire

For as long as he could remember, Sir Ronald had never acted on desires of his own. He had always been an obedient son, and that same behavior carried over into the order of knights he joined after losing his family. As the years passed, he became very strong, wielding his sword for the sake of the innocent and the peace of the kingdom.

He defeated terrifying monsters.

He hanged dozens of bandits.

The Scourge of Evil, they called him in the highest circles of power. But in the end, Sir Ronald remained a tool, someone whose judgment had never once been put to the test. Though he lived by the principles of honor and glory, not a single decision had ever truly been made by him.

“Let us live, Sir Ronald.”

The terrified voice of the first bandit sounded far too real to be an illusion. For one fleeting instant, the red knight believed their souls had been dragged into hell, and that this was a belated judgment for their sins. He was tempted to draw his weapon once more, decapitate those criminals, and deliver the cold vengeance that had been denied to him because of his age.

Even so, Sir Ronald did not yield to temptation.

Or perhaps he did not want to yield.

“Kill us again, Sir Ronald.”

Another of the outlaws began to laugh with excitement. His expression radiated a certain madness that left his fellow criminals terrified.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? To take revenge because we slaughtered your parents like pigs in a butcher’s shop. They squealed for mercy, but we slit their throats! I don’t regret it! If I were reborn, I’d look for them again and kill them all over!”

The provocation did not sound false either.

That bandit had never repented for his sins. He had lived and died faithful to his deficient moral principles.

The third condemned man, however, remained silent. His gaze stayed fixed on Sir Ronald, but he offered no speech beyond simple silence. And paradoxically, that silence was what bothered the knight most.

“What will you do, oh great hero? You have all the time in the world to think. I will keep watching and judging your character.”

Luna summoned a small wooden chair and took a seat in front of the red knight.

“Why do you want to know my desire? I don’t understand. I need the power of the abbey to save the kingdom. Is there some hidden trap? If there is, don’t bother. Your schemes won’t work on me.”

Sir Ronald turned around and walked several meters away from the condemned men and the abbess. They said nothing, but the woman with dark hair and a somber gaze did.

“Because power does not exist without desire. You say you do this for an oath and for honor? Nonsense! I can see inside you, Sir Ronald. I see a greedy man filled with desires. But as long as they do not leave your mouth, those ideas will be as useful as your sheathed sword.”

Luna remained seated. Her smile did not vanish. She continued looking at the warrior with mischief and a little sadness.

Indeed, a human being incapable of desiring something on his own was a depressing thing.

“This makes no sense. Enough!”

The blond hero released an explosion of dark energy that temporarily shattered the illusion. The prisoners vanished, as did the plain, and once again they returned to the gray altar.

“The abbey is a fraud. There is nothing for me here.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and walked toward the stone door, disappointed that he had not found the power he needed. His movements were bitter, filled with accumulated frustration from so many words he had failed to understand.

But when he took one step outside the chamber…

“You cannot leave until you finish the trial.”

The abbess called to him from behind.

Outside the abbey, the plain had returned, along with the three bound prisoners exactly as they had been left after the explosion.

“If I attack and kill you, will I be able to leave?” he asked, his hand cruelly caressing the pommel of his sword.

“No. If you kill me, the illusion will continue until you pass the trial or take your own life. There is no other way out.”

Luna’s mischievous smile remained on her face. There were no lies or deceptions in her words, only a dreadful truth that had brought an end to dozens of aspirants before Sir Ronald.

Passing the trial was mandatory.

“Fine. I’ll play your game. Let’s see…”

He returned to the bound prisoners and decided to examine them without lingering on any of them.

He closed his eyes and imagined himself killing them with a single clean, precise, painless slash. Beyond the temporary pleasure of useless revenge, the sensations that image produced in him were nothing impressive. Sir Ronald felt disappointed to think that perhaps his life truly was as empty as Luna believed, an echo of orders incapable of taking the reins of his own destiny.

So no, killing them would not stir any emotion in him beyond short-term pleasure, similar to drinking a beer or eating something delicious. Nice, yes, but fleeting.

On the other hand, forgiving them would not free him from his burden either.

He imagined himself in another situation, forgiving the murderers of his family and thereby granting himself the closure he never had in life. Perhaps if he had followed a religious calling, that would have been the desire of his soul, a total liberation capable of granting him salvation. But no. Sir Ronald did not consider himself a saint capable of forgiving such an atrocity. Even he had clear limits regarding his morality and whom he offered his forgiveness.

“I do not want to forgive them or kill them,” answered the red knight as he took his closed helm and put it back on, hiding his handsome blond features once more.

“So that is how you truly feel, is it? Very well.”

Luna made the prisoners disappear and then snapped her fingers once again. This time, the two of them appeared in the middle of a large courtyard filled with green grass, a familiar place Sir Ronald knew well.

The training yard where he had trained.

“I remember this place. I spent many years training here.”

Though he had his helm on, his voice sounded less hostile than it had a moment ago.

“It seems my trial is not turning out the way I wanted. Very well, let us change my conditions slightly. To pass, you must fulfill your desire right here. But it must be a real desire. You cannot pretend, nor can you say you desire something in particular merely to pass my test. As someone who has never desired anything, first you must find a desire of your own, something born directly from the very depths of your heart.”

“And how am I supposed to fulfill it? Are you going to grant it?”

The hero’s question made all the sense in the world. It was one thing to find a desire of his own, and something entirely different to make it reality inside an illusory world that went beyond reality itself.

“Yes, I will grant whatever you desire. But it must be something genuine. If you lie, then nothing will happen, and you will remain trapped here for all eternity.”

“I thought you would summon some hideous monster to devour me.”

“In theory, that is how it should be. But there is no point in wasting strength on you. In a one-on-one fight, I have no chance of killing you.”

The abbess once again confirmed that undeniable fact: raw power would not solve the trial by itself.

Only a pure desire, born from the deepest depths of his soul and heart, would solve the abbey’s riddle.

Sir Ronald closed his eyes inside the helm and searched beyond his most distant memories.

He saw himself running through the training yard, filled with squires, soldiers, and other knights serving the local lord. Back then, his only ambition had been to become powerful enough to make a living and find a purpose.

He read stories of legendary heroes who accomplished great deeds, whether by killing a dragon, saving a princess, or ending a war. The tales seemed so incredible, yet so distant from his reality. Even so, he did not give up. He continued striving until he became the most dangerous man in his homeland, a full-fledged killing machine, always sharpened for his master’s orders, like an attack dog.

If that was the case, then his desire had already come true years ago.

All he had sought was power.

And power he had obtained.

What more could a man clad in red steel desire?

“No. That was not my desire,” the blond man admitted with sorrow.

Becoming powerful had been a means of survival, an action born from fear and desperation at not having a place to live. Perhaps he had always known it, but he had never wanted to face that dark thought living inside him.

What if I truly have nothing?

The simple idea of living empty terrified him more than eternity.

Remaining trapped in the Abbey of Memories sounded better than living as an empty man in reality.

“Is something wrong?” Luna asked him, confused.

Almost twenty minutes had passed, and the red knight still had not said anything.

“What is the difference between desire and ambition?”

The question left her bewildered. The abbess brought her right hand to her chin and thought carefully about how to answer before opening her mouth. It was a serious question, one that even she hesitated to respond to.

“An ambition is something concrete, a specific goal that can be reached and measured. For example.”

Luna snapped her fingers, and as she did, gold ingots appeared in both her hands. They were rectangular and shone beneath the light of the false sun.

“A merchant may have the ambition of earning four ingots a year. To do so, he must prepare himself, work hard, and measure each step until he obtains those four ingots.”

The gold vanished as quickly as it had come. The abbess smiled and signaled for the knight to remove his helm.

Sir Ronald obeyed.

“I see. An ambition is a goal. That makes sense.”

“But a desire is something deeper. You cannot measure it. You can only feel it. For example, a painter may desire to create a masterpiece, but the meaning itself changes depending on the person. His desire may or may not become reality. It is something subjective that is only fulfilled when the person has decided it is. No one else can know.”

The blond man’s blue eyes settled on the abbess.

Just as she had said, his ambition to become the strongest had been quantifiable when the feudal lord named him hero of the people and sword-sworn of his noble house.

It had never been a desire.

Knowing that made him feel awful. All those nights spent swinging his sword had never been worth it. Becoming extremely strong had never been a real desire, only the desperate cry of an orphan incapable of living. Without realizing it, Ronald began to cry. Dozens of bitter tears slid down his pale cheeks like tiny waterfalls falling to the ground.

At this point, he could no longer properly remember his parents’ faces, or the happy memories in the barracks that Luna was recreating right now.

The abbey could show them to him if he asked.

But they would no longer be his…

The child who had once smiled no longer existed. The mere memory of him belonged to someone else. Someone who had died during the massacre of the Shadow Clan, even though he had continued breathing.

Sir Ronald was someone else.

A stoic knight, filled with empty heroism and ideals he had adopted as a shield against cruel reality.

He no longer considered those distant memories his own. His dissociation had reached such a point that he even doubted whether or not he truly was someone named Ronald.

Everyone called him that.

From his lord to the soldiers of the kingdom.

But he had never stopped to think whether they had always called him that, or if they had merely instilled that heroic name in him so they could continue bossing him around for the rest of his life.

He had defeated unstoppable monsters, hanged bandits, murdered dragons.

And for what?

Heroism? Ideals?

Am I even human in the first place?

That last thought left him stunned.

No, that could not be true.

He bled like everyone else. Blows hurt him, and despite his combat techniques, the fear of death remained part of his existence. He had to be human. What else could he be?

He breathed deeply until his inhalations turned into painful gasps that made him drop his helm. The helmet fell to the floor with a loud noise that made the abbess tremble.

He brought his gloved hands to his cheeks and squeezed them.

The force of his grip caused him a small discomfort, a bitter reminder that he was still alive.

Then an absurd but real idea came to his mind, one he had never believed he would say in his twenty-eight years of life.

“Hey, are you all right?” Luna let go of her mischievous smile and looked at him with a certain concern. She had never imagined she would see the invincible warrior crying. “Have you already fallen into despair?”

The wicked witch act collapsed. She could no longer maintain her mysterious voice, and in its place, she revealed her true tone: one that was kind, gentle, and full of empathy.

“Yes… I think I have my desire now.”

“A-Ah. Then ask for it, and I will fulfill it.”

“Love me.”

Chapter 3: Ronald and Love

“W-What are you talking about? You can’t ask me for something like that out of nowhere! Don’t you have anything more realistic?!” exclaimed the abbess, her face flushed. There was nothing left of the imposing dark witch.

“No. This is my true desire. Love me,” he repeated firmly. “I am not a man. I am a sword. I have fought for justice and honor my entire life. I am sick of it. You made me see that I am human too. I can be selfish too. I can desire things too… So love me, Luna.”

Time stopped inside the illusion.

She looked into the blond man’s passionate blue eyes, searching for lies or deception, but found nothing. Only a painful sincerity that made her step back by instinct.

It was not an ambition, nor a phantom of glory.

It was a real desire, genuine and beautiful, one worthy of being cherished.

Luna remembered the faces of all those who had failed the trial. In their expressions, there had always been a trace of darkness, a final goal that could be counted with precision. A fixed, quantifiable, explicit destination.

But those traits did not exist in him.

Sir Ronald had spoken from his naked soul.

He desired to be loved, without conditions or explanations, merely a request so general that it was almost laughable. Were it not for his utterly determined expression, the abbess might have taken it as a joke, or worse, an insult.

She remained frozen, her face even redder, her memories weighing heavily on her mind. Not even the guardian of the abbey was immune to nostalgia.

Was she not the same?

A person with a fervent and passionate desire.

He is not lying, she thought.

Love was a strange feeling, an emotion that could not be measured or calculated.

Long ago, a few fools had told her they desired to obtain the love of a specific person, whether to secure a political marriage, satisfy sexual desire, or simply and disgustingly dominate someone through forced love. Luna was no stranger to that false desire. Hundreds of individuals had come to her with counterfeit vows and deceit.

Ambition was pure toxin to desire.

For that very reason, Sir Ronald’s words echoed within her.

For a man who, until a few seconds ago, had lived burdened by the ambitions of others, the act of desiring something selfish was so human it was almost funny. Luna had seen the worst of humanity, miserable beings crawling into the abbey to beg for absurd things.

From adventurers to nobles of great lineage.

And there he stood, a knight in red armor with the most human gaze of all.

Fate had curious ways of unfolding.

“Why me? Don’t you have anyone else?” Luna could not believe it. She needed to hear it from his lips. She knew the answer. Anyone with common sense would have deduced it in an instant. But some things needed to be heard in person.

“Yes. I have no one else. I have no friends or family, and honor by itself will not save me. You are the only real connection I have made.”

After answering, the blond man refused to lower his gaze and continued staring straight at Luna, giving her no chance to look away.

“That is depressing, but again, you are not lying. The Abbey of Memories allows me to see the truth. Oh, Sir Ronald, you have made this difficult for me.”

“You said it yourself. A desire cannot be measured. It is felt. And right now, I only desire to be loved by you.”

In another context, the abbess’s face would have exploded from embarrassment.

The phrase was brutal, worthy of a heartbreaker.

“W-Well, you have managed to pass the trial. Your desire is genuine.”

The illusion faded away, and once again, they returned to the stone altar.

In the real world, not even ten seconds had passed, but they had experienced it as if entire hours had gone by.

“Will you love me?”

“I will try. I have never loved anyone. When I made my pact with the Abbey of Memories, I swore I would spend eternity here. I suppose those plans have changed. You are the first person to pass the trial. Your desire is genuine, real, an echo of honesty in the midst of empty ambitions.”

Luna sighed heavily. She had never imagined an outcome like this.

“Just so you know, people do not fall in love or love someone overnight. I will travel with you. I will get to know you, judge your character, and then I will either love you or, on the contrary, hate you.”

“Hate me?” whispered the blond man, puzzled.

“Yes. There is only one step between hatred and love. Some even dare to say that hatred is the most intense form of love. We shall see. Let us not rush, Sir Ronald.”

Luna smiled kindly. It was the first smile she had given him in all the time they had spent debating philosophy.

“Ah, what happens with the grimoire?”

“You will obtain it once your desire is completely fulfilled. Do not be impatient. Or is there some hurry?”

She winked at him, but not with her earlier mischief. This time, it was something more flirtatious and charming. Sir Ronald still did not blush. His hardened heart would take longer to soften completely.

“No, there is no hurry. The kingdom can wait. I have served my lord as a soulless sword for a long time. I think the time has come to think about myself. By the way, what kind of desires did the previous aspirants usually ask for?”

“Banal things. Money, health, immortality, lust, passion. Dark ambitions, but nothing real. They failed without a doubt.”

The red knight tried to reason through that answer, but nothing came to mind.

Why had they failed and he had not?

Why was his desire genuine, while the others were mere ambitions?

Perhaps it was still too soon to understand the difference, and he had only succeeded by a stroke of luck.

In any case, all heroes needed a little fortune.

“One last thing, Abbess Luna.”

“Yes?”

“Why are there no corpses in the abbey? No bones, armor remains, or anything from my predecessors who failed? Did a monster eat them?”

Despite the ominous aura of the abbey, the darkness present there came from within those involved, not from the outside. The scent of death did not exist in that place. Blood was conspicuous by its absence.

“Did you think I was a murderer? Of course not!”

The beautiful woman with dark hair and a nun’s attire burst into laughter. It was a cheerful laugh, more like that of a peasant girl than a supernatural being.

“Those who failed after some time, I made them disappear from here, and they lost all access to the abbey. Why would I want dead bodies with me? They smell awful and are disgusting. I do not want to touch them either!”

“Well. The powerful guardian of the abbey turned out to be a kind girl. I suppose life is more surprising than I thought.”

“I-I am not kind. I simply do not wish to stain the abbey with corpses, that is all.”

The young woman puffed out her cheeks in an adorable pout. It was a simple gesture, as ordinary as the sun and the sands surrounding the abbey.

“Well then, let us go. You said you would travel with me. Let us see where the wind takes us.”

Sir Ronald hung his helm on his back. Then he walked toward the door of the abbey, and unlike before, he was able to pass through it without any trouble. Luna followed behind him. Her steps were shorter and slower, but not fearful. She looked curious to see the world she had left behind centuries ago.

“Yes. Let us go.”

When the girl left the temple, it disappeared beneath a cloud of dust. The ruins vanished as if they had never been there.

The imposing armored destrier was already waiting for them with soft neighs. It was an impressive beast, and the saddlebags hanging from it did not bother it in the slightest. Sir Ronald calmed it before introducing Luna.

“I-It is so big. I did not know warhorses were enormous. How much do you spend feeding it? It must eat a lot!”

“More than I would like to admit,” the knight lamented. “I hope you do not mind sharing the saddle with me.”

“Nonsense! Quite the opposite! That way I will get to know you better. Let us go!”

The two mounted the horse in a single leap and rode toward the horizon.

Whether hatred or love, the desire would be fulfilled sooner or later.

And so, the Abbey of Memories came to honor its name. It became a memory that would soon be forgotten, like an ephemeral summer dream that never happened.

THE END