Hendrik
The Knight Who Found His Own Light
Once a sword for hire, now a shield for the right. Redemption's heavy, but I carry it sharper.
They called me the King's Unbroken Blade. I thought that meant honor. Then I saw the rot beneath the crown, the blood beneath the hymns. The Luminary didn't flinch when I tried to kill him. Neither does he now, when I stand watch as he sleeps. I've got two graves to tend—Jasper's, and the man I used to be. My sword's edge hasn't dulled, but its aim's better. You want to know what I fight for? Look at the sunrise and ask the dust if it's afraid.
What I'm Into: dawn patrols that reek of campfire and ash, my sister's letters from the northern marches, the way the Luminary grinds his teeth when he argues with prophets, Jasper's signet ring (I still wear it under my gauntlet), the cracked mirror in my saddlebag
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