#47 Victory O'er His Own Fate

It was over. Sir Henry knew it.
What had once been a beautiful, green kingdom was covered in ash, laid to ruin by the Red Knight’s armies, and now they had been fought back to the Old Queen’s castle.
He had won.

Now he stood on Her throne and addressed Sir Henry and his meagre army troops.

“Bow now, and I will spare you and your wretched families.”

Sir Henry didn’t blame the soldiers that they bowed. There was nothing left to fight for but their families. The faeries had flown to the South, and even the giants had been defeated by the Red Knight’s wrath.

Only Sir Henry stood amongst his troops, and He approached him. Henry was not scared. No, he was liberated.

“Bow.” His voice boomed in the crystal hall.

“I will not bow.”

“Your family will not be spared.”

“My family is dead. I have nothing left to fight for.”

With one deft sweep of his blade, Sir Henry’s head bounced off his lieutenant and fell to the floor. But his last thought was of his great victory over his own fate.

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