The Last Knight

The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the sky in copper and silence. Along the dusty path rode a solitary knight, his armor gleaming like a mirror of the sunset. No banner to defend, no war left to fight. Only a promise made long ago, beneath a now-barren oak tree: "I will return when all is over."

The world had changed, but he still rode — not for glory, but for memory. Because even the last knight knows that some oaths, like iron, do not break.