Friendships can survive the ages. At least, that’s what Nehon believed. His fondest memories as a child were of Alayla. For the first six years of their lives they were practically inseparable. Either playing in the woods or at the lake, attending family functions or sitting in front of a fire listening to stories, they knew they had a friendship that would last the ages.

Those perfect days of youth ended abruptly at age six when the stark realization that the two could not be the friends they knew they should be collided with the reality of who they were in society. At age six, Nehon, the son of a farmer, began his formal schooling in a neighboring village and Alayla, the daughter of a king, was sent to Kinta to be schooled with others of her class at one of the most prestigious institutions in the land.

As the years wore on, the two old friends grew apart. Endless days playing in the forest became idle thoughts of one another’s friendship. In recent years the two met up on two occasions; the funeral of Alaya’s mother, the Queen; and the funeral of Nehon’s parents.

When a servant of the king came to Nehon as he worked in his rain-soaked field and told him that the princess requested his presence he was surprised and intrigued. And as he sat in the king’s library sipping sweet cala next to the fire he was confused.

He looked up at Alayla. "Excuse me?" he said, then realized to whom he was speaking and added "M’Lady."

Alayla gave him a quick smile and sat down across from him. "I know it’s a lot to take in. But I really do need your help. And no, I’m not crazy. I’m very, very serious."

Nehon watched the light from the fire dance on her face and he looked into her eyes for some hint of truth to her words. Politics and friendship paired can only bring distrust and discord, his father said to him once.

They sat in silence. The fire sparked. Voices from the adjacent library quietly cursed.

"Knights? They were disbanded years ago. Your father did that."

"Yes he did. Now he feels that the time is right to bring them back."

"I’m a farmer not a warrior."

"You’re my father’s subject and, more importantly, my friend." Alayla leaned forward. "All I’m asking is that you go to Lya and get proof that Uh’ton was involved in the murder of our ambassador. And after that, it becomes a matter for generals and politicians."

"That’s it? Proof?"

"That’s it. And when you return, you’ll be granted a noble title and servants as thanks from my father, your king."

Alayla sat up and Nehon stood up and walked behind his chair. In the library something obviously fragile broke and more curses said. A log collapsed in the fireplace.

"There are supposed to be five knights."

"Indeed." Alayla stood and walked to the fire. "You will need to find three friends to accompany you. A fifth has already been selected and is awaiting your arrival at Indis Mon Appera." She turned her head and looked at Nehon. "I don’t know this fifth, nor do I trust him. But by all accounts he is a warrior and you’re not. Just in case you need one."

"Ah." The farmer slowly stepped next to the princess and gazed at the fire soaking up its warmth. "And they’ll be… rewarded for their time?"

"Of course they will."

"Then I accept."

Alayla smiled and turned to her friend. Nehon wasn’t smiling and this disturbed her. "I’m not doing this for you, please understand," he said. "I’m doing this for your father and for the kindness he has shown my family."

She put her hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes. "I do understand. In fact," she giggled, "my father often thought of you as his son. Now kneel."

Nehon did as he was told as Alayla walked to her desk and picked up a sword. She unsheathed it and placed the blade on his right shoulder. "As Regent of the House of Ettan, by the will of the King, I grant you, Nehon, the title of Knight. Rise."

Nehon did as he was told, looked Alayla in the eyes, and nodded his head. "Thank you, M’Lady."

"Now then, your provisions are with your horse. It’s late, so you should get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day." She took the sword, replaced the sheath, and handed the hilt to Nehon.

"Yes, M’Lady." He bowed his head and began to walk out of the office.

"Oh, Sir Nehon," she began then waited for him to stop and look at her. "Be careful. And remember this; everything around us is changing."

"Yes, M’Lady. Good evening."

Alayla smiled and watched him leave then went to the window to see him collect his provisions and horses and to see if perhaps he would turn and look up at her.

"Are you sure about this?" a gruff voice came from the library.

"Come out, Midnight."

As ordered, the old man walked out and stood by Alayla. His black robes were disheveled and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. His beard, brown as his hair as if to hide his age, was mangled and knotted and he grimaced when he tugged on it. His eyes, bright blue as the afternoon sky, hid his secrets.

"Did you find it?" she asked.

"No. But there are a few more places I need to look." Something fell in the library and he glanced back. "Are you sure about this?" he asked again.

"Yes, I’m sure. It’s the only way. ‘Everything is changing.’ You told me that." She looked at the old man and smiled then looked back out to see Nehon in the fire light of the courtyard inspect his horses.

"I did." Midnight put his hand on Alayla’s shoulder. "But I didn’t say it was for the better."

***

As Nehon and the Princess were talking, stable hands took to outfitting the new knight’s horse. They replaced the worn saddle with a new one, and gave his horse a new blanket. In the new saddlebags were food and a canvas shelter. And on his horse’s head was a helmet with a hawk figuring protruding out as a horn.

He removed the helmet and walked to the other two horses and attached it to the lead horse. He looked over the provisions the other two horses carried; food, canvas, clothing, and weapons were what he saw. After attaching the two horses to each other and then to his own horse, he walked up to his horse and rubbed her nose.

"I’m an idiot," he told her as he grabbed the lead. "Hopefully you’ll make it out alive."

He began his walk out of the country estate of the King of Ettan. The rain had stopped. Slivers of the moons could be seen through the clouds. And as much as he wanted to Nehon didn’t look back. He was never one to show too many emotions. And he knew that no matter how desperate he felt, he could never run through the courtyard, into the house, and rush to Alayla and say "I love you."