Lonely knight

Marrana rode through the wasteland which had once been her home, horse and rider both remaining dressed in their kingdom's colors, though their kingdom had not stood for a great many years. The bright, blood red style of their outfits stood out amongst the vivid green backdrop of their grown over lands. Those who had attacked them all those years ago had not been looking to expand - merely to stop the onward progression that her king had desired. But while some of her fellow knights had turned against their king in the onslaught, taking the promise of a new life from their invaders, she had remained loyal until the very end. And while her king's end had come at the end of that attack, hers had not.

She had been forced to evacuate her home, her family, and everything she had ever known, lest she be tore apart by their attackers. She suspected she may have been the only one to have managed doing so, however. She had lived on her own since then, surviving off of the land without the aid of another human being. She avoided contact as much as possible. She knew that the colors she continued to wear had become a symbol of plague amongst the other kingdoms. But she had loved her kingdom, her people, and her king - perhaps more than she had any right to. And so she chose to reject what society asked of her, and maintained her loyalty, long after she had lost anything to be loyal to.

Although it only painted a larger target on her back, she was glad that she had grabbed one of their flags during her escape. She had witnessed the flags left behind being burnt as a sign to anyone watching that her kingdom had been burnt to the ground. She was the last remaining remnant of what had once been a mighty and powerful kingdom, which had governed its people well and done all in its power to give them the land and resources it needed to flourish. It had not been her king's fault that doing that meant taking that land and those resources from other kingdoms. That was merely the way of the world.

She stood in what had once been her king's throne room nearly four hundred years earlier and saw around her only trees, grass, and bushes growing without control. The greenery had erupted through what was left of the stone hallways and architecture and overtaken it. The walls and ceiling had been utterly crushed and decimated by catapults during the attack. Even now, she could recall it all in horrific clarity.

Gently she nudged her horse forward. There was still ground yet left to cover for the day. She had never been much of one for daydreams and fantasy.