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Somewhere year 1110th...
"My mom said… my father is finally here."
The knight stationed at the grand gates of the fortress of Duke Valehart arched a brow, glancing down at the small boy before him. He couldn't have been more than five years old. His dark blue hair was tangled and unkempt, his large eyes the same hue—quietly observant, though dulled with fatigue. His clothes hung loose on his frail frame, patched and worn thin from travel. He had no shoes.
"Get lost, child," the knight scoffed, though not unkindly. "You've no idea how many have come spinning that tale. Every month, another one tries the same trick."
But the boy didn't flinch, nor did he retreat. He simply met the knight's gaze with calm certainty.
"I have proof."
With small fingers, he reached into his shirt and drew out a silver locket, glinting under the sunlight. The knight's eyes widened the moment he saw it.
"That locket—!" His voice broke with sudden urgency. "You… wait here!"
