Page 245 - Musings 2020

Sir Archibald: (In a cracked voice, to himself) No. The principles of honour passed down to
me in the years of training cannot be wrong. Yet, I cannot wrong the words of Cicero. Why
am I, Sir Archibald Elmaloy, a knight yet to be beaten in combat, cowering in front of this
lowlife? I am trying my best to hold myself together, to stand, to talk with dignity. Yet, my
body won’t listen. It won't budge. Is this what doom feels like? For the day I begin to
question the honour of knights, is the day I no longer deserve to be one. I no longer deserve
this sword, this shield, or this armour. Is knighthood just an illusion? Even the duke doesn’t
want us anymore...(pauses) It can’t be so. It is these times that one’s mind is put to test. But, I
won’t falter. I won’t give up. I will win like I always have. Cicero is wrong. An evil
manipulator. A blatant liar. A money-loving bastard. I am not anywhere near what he is.

Cicero: (Raising his voice) I hope to have been the harbinger of reality to clarify your
thoughts. You may convince yourself to not listen to me, for I am a criminal. However,
imagine Talos was the one saying this. Or Rosaline (in an even louder voice) or even the duke
himself! If you have ever considered yourself to be a true knight, question yourself about
your virtues, your code of honour, your false pride and if by any chance, you come across the
possibility of having wronged people in your life, I dare you to raise your sword for one last
time and let it judge your own self.

(The lights dim across the room. All freeze. Archibald’s thoughts are heard)

Sir Archibald: I guess this is it. I don’t see any purpose in my life now. I am going to be
kicked out of the military and given a social status I couldn’t care less about. If I can’t serve
my people, what can I do? What about my accomplishments in battle? Was it all for nothing?
My armour feels heavy. My sword and shield, a burden. Looks like I’m trapped in an era
where my deeds were a waste. An era where I must abandon my identity. An era where
knights are going to be obsolete. I think Cicero might just be right here. I will vanish along
with my legacy in the pages of history that no one would bother to recall. My existence
makes no difference anymore. I must start from scratch. Begin from square one. But how can
I? How can I forget the fourteen years I put into becoming this? This is it. The decline of the
noble knights. The abolishment of the code of honour. I don’t matter anymore. Not to the
duke, not to Talos and the commoners, not to my own people and definitely not to Cicero. I
wonder if Talos’ mother felt this way too, helpless, suffocating as if she was tied to a boulder
and flung into the sea. I think I am thinking too much. I wonder if I should end all this mess
in a single, swift blow and conclude my story as the knight I am? Or do I continue to writhe
in agony as the world walks by me and completely overwhelms my existence? I guess the
world is changing after all. I guess this is the rise of the Renaissance.

(Archibald then stands up straight, raises the sword in his hand and the curtain falls.)

END.

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