Alrik of the Red Mantle: The Last Knight
In a world abandoned by the heavens, where the skies bled endless twilight and the earth lay broken and silent, only ruins remained. Cities crumbled into dust, forests withered to ash, and the memory of light faded into myth. Humanity had long stopped hoping.
Yet atop a lonely, blackened hill, a man still stood.
Alrik, the final knight of the fallen kingdom of Eryndor, gripped his ancient sword — Solblade — forged in an age when the gods themselves still feared the darkness. His battered armor bore the scars of countless battles, and though blood dripped from a hundred wounds, his spirit remained unbroken.
Beneath him, the spawn of the Abyss crept from the earth. These were not men, but twisted forms born of ancient evil — eyeless, skeletal, and driven by a hunger that knew no end. They hissed and clawed at the stones, drawn by the last defiance of a dying world.
The Battle for a Lost World
Alrik raised Solblade high, and in answer, the blade burst into white fire. The radiant light tore through the suffocating darkness, forcing the spawn to recoil. In that moment, the world seemed to remember a time when honor, courage, and beauty had not been forgotten.
But the creatures returned, their hunger too great, their numbers endless. Alrik fought on, not because he believed he could win, but because he believed that some battles must be fought, even without hope of victory.
Every swing of Solblade turned monsters into ash, yet each step forward drained more of his strength. His breaths became labored, his vision blurred. Still he pressed on, driven by an ancient oath: to be the last light when all others had fallen.
A Final Stand Against Darkness
Staggering to the hill’s summit, Alrik planted Solblade deep into the stone. A roar of blinding light erupted, sweeping across the dead lands and shattering the creatures where they stood. The dark clouds above broke apart, revealing a glimpse of pure, golden sky — a vision not seen for centuries.
Alrik fell to one knee, his strength spent. Far beyond the battlefield, in a ruined village, a young girl looked to the sky and gasped. The villagers gathered around her, witnessing the miracle: a beacon of hope piercing the endless night.
In that moment, the darkness faltered. Hope, fragile yet unbreakable, was reborn.
The Legacy of the Last Beacon
Alrik’s body may have fallen, but his light endured. A thousand years later, bards would sing of the Knight of the Last Beacon — the man who stood when all others had fallen, the soul whose courage reignited the world's faith.
His name became a symbol, whispered in prayers, woven into legends, and carried in the hearts of all who refused to surrender to despair.
When the world seemed lost, one man’s defiance lit the path for generations to come.
