The noble knight, once known as Sir Armand of Ravensreach, had been the kingdom’s fiercest protector. Born of humble stock but blessed with unbreakable loyalty, he rose through blood and battle to stand as the king’s greatest champion. The day the shadow-beast descended upon the realm, bringing famine and fire, it was he who charged into the creature’s den, cutting it down with a blade tempered in sacred flames. The kingdom’s people hailed him as a savior, and with the beast’s death, the king’s promise—marriage to his beautiful daughter—should have been fulfilled.
But greed and paranoia ruled the king’s heart. Fearing that Sir Armand’s growing influence and popularity would soon overshadow his own, he conspired with whispering advisors and shadows in cloaks. Under the guise of a celebratory toast, Armand was poisoned. He fell at the king’s feet, his eyes filled with betrayal. As his vision dimmed, he uttered his last words, drenched in anguish: “This is not the end, my king. I shall return when your bloodline is weakest, and claim what is rightfully mine.”
