Henry buckled down the last of the straps on Godric's saddle, the mighty warhorse towering over him as it stood silently as it had always done. It was a ritual the two of them had long been accustomed to, the young teen's handiwork a familiar routine of strapping on the armored barding and saddle in preparation for its rider.

  "Henry." Sir Gallant's voice rang out from across the stables. "Help me with this, will you?"

  The young squire faithfully trotted over to his master's side, who was finishing the last of his own armoring. The knight's armor was shiny at first glance, the decorative fluting and white metal shimmering in the late afternoon sun; however, as Henry assisted him with the final touches of armoring up, he could see the weariness behind the illusion, the faint scratches, dents, and other imperfections in the armor visible only with eyes as trained as the squire's.

  "Thank you, my boy," Sir Gallant said, tightening the last strap on his gauntlets. "It seems my age prevents me from reaching as far as I used to."

  "Nonsense, my lord," Henry replied, buckling in Sir Gallant's left greave on his leg. "The armor's not as pristine as it was. I'll hammer out the dents again when you come back."

  "Always the pleaser, eh?" Sir Gallant chuckled. "You're a good lad, Henry, but I'm afraid you're wrong this time."

  "Sir?"

  "Don't play dumb, boy." The knight gave the squire a playful slap towards the back of the head, which the latter dodged purely out of muscle memory. "You know it, I know it. I'm getting too old for this."

  Henry said nothing, continuing to check the knight's armor one final time, but his inner thoughts assented: Sir Gallant was right.

  The knight had not yet donned his helmet, and the squire looked up to his face; Sir Gallant's gaunt features and graying hair stared back, the creases on his brow more apparent than the year before. The faint scars on his face matched those on his armor: invisible to the naked eye, save only for those who know. The nearly imperceptible gash running down Sir Gallant's left side seemed to have grown, as if the knight's fading vigor allowed it to spread unfettered; Henry almost reached for it out of instinct, wanting to dress it as he had always done for the knight after the latter returned from vicious combat.

  "I'll be fine, my boy." Sir Gallant turned and winked at him. "This quest will likely be my last. Fitting, too."

  "I wish I could come with you on this one, my lord," Henry said. "I've yet to face a dragon on the field!"

  "Oh, posh," Sir Gallant scoffed. "Bezelius is hardly a dragon. An overgrown garden lizard, more like, and old like me."

  "Still, he has warranted a questing call from the township," Henry added. "My lord, I insist that I come with you! Surely, two swords would-"

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  "My word is final, Henry." Sir Gallant held up a stern gauntleted hand. "Silly as Bezelius may be, you are not yet ready to face a dragon."

  "How much more difficult can an old dragon be?" Henry insisted. "We've faced all sorts of beasts before! Trolls, ogres, even a wyrm! A single dragon couldn't possibly be more dangerous than-"

  Sir Gallant gave Henry a stony look, one that was enough to silence the squire.

  "Bezelius and I go back, further back than since you have been alive." Sir Gallant crossed his arms, a faint clanking emanating from his armor. "If he sees you, he will know you are my squire, and he will try to kill you first to wound my spirit. I can't focus on attacking him and protecting you at the same time."

  "My lord," Henry pleaded, "surely I'm ready? The ten summers I've spent with you are more than enough to face an ailing dragon."

  "I've known knights who have studied dragons for lifetimes, and still be felled by them in their first combat." Sir Gallant shook his head. "Dragons are different from the beasts and creatures we've faced before. They are smarter, faster, and stronger than anything we have ever fought, and I cannot risk losing you before your Trials."

  "My... Trials?" Stunned, Henry could barely cock his brow. "You mean..."

  The knight smiled, before tousling the squire's hair; still shocked by this revelation, Henry could scarcely register the hard metal digging into his scalp.

  "That's right. Just because you aren't ready for dragons, doesn't mean you aren't ready." Sir Gallant produced a scroll from his belt, his knight's crest seal visible on the rolled-up parchment. "I've already sent a letter to the Bureau, but I've drafted a copy just for you. You're going to be undertaking the Trials when I return." He handed the scroll to the squire, who was still in a state of bewilderment.

  "I...I don't know what to say, my lord." Henry clutched the scroll to his chest, feeling tears stinging at his eyes.

  "Ten years you've been at my side, and in your sixteen years I deem you the youngest aspirant yet I've recommended for the Trials." Sir Gallant ambled to Godric and swiftly mounted the warhorse in one smooth motion. "As I've said, you're a good lad, Henry. And I've no doubt you'll be a greater knight than I."

  Henry tucked the scroll into his belt, grabbing the knight's helmet from the table beside him and joining his master's side. Handing the helmet to him, he grasped the knight's hand as he looked up at him. "Please, come back safely, sir."

  Sir Gallant pulled on his helmet, latching it onto his head with a single hand. He looked down at Henry, fully clad in his resplendent armor that seemed to dazzle in the setting sun. "You're only saying that because you need me for the Trials, aren't you?" He laughed, his voice ringing off of the metal visor. "I'll be back within a few days, so don't you worry yourself to death."

  Henry grinned, releasing Sir Gallant's hand. "Well, that's my second reason, sir."

  He felt something heavy in his palm; looking down, he saw it was the knight's heraldic coin, a heavy piece of gold inlaid with the Gallant coat of arms.

  "Hold on to that for me, will you?" Sir Gallant lifted his visor and smirked at the squire. "Can't have old Bezelius snatching that from me during the fight."

  Henry watched as both horse and rider slowly cantered out of the courtyard and onto the dusty road, walking to the gate to see them off. The sun was a brilliant golden haze that bounced off of Sir Gallant's armor as he slowly rode down the road, creating a halo effect that gave the knight an angelic aura of light.

  Watching the two slowly fade into the distance, Henry saw Sir Gallant raise his gauntlet one final time without looking back, before the knight's booming voice floated back to his ears.

  "Until we meet again, my boy!"