The Knight

His armor was made from the mightiest steel.

His horse was the fastest in the land, Speeding through any battle field.

His cape flowing and long, Dangling from his back like a trophy pelt archived from battle.

His sword, forged by the best blacksmith in all the land. The sword could block and parry any oncoming attack from foe or ally alike. The sword has no rival.

His helmet, The prized possession of this valiant knight. The unpeircable, radiant, and stunning helm that hid his face.

You may ask why this Knight hid his face if he was so high statured? His face had been worn from a battle. A battle with a dragon who destroyed his original weak and unlined armor. He stumbled back as it's claws slashed it off and left him vulnerable to it's gaze. She controlled the knight and turned him on his ally. They knew it was no him but only the strings being pulled by the dragon. As he was controlled, His heart grew cold from it's previous warmth and caring nature. When it was enough for him, He swung his mighty sword around to cut the strings. He ran up the dragon's tail and leapt forward to decapitate the beast. He was free at last. But his heart became cold and he saw no good left in the world so he rode out on his horse.

Back to the Knight as he is now. His mask is very projection oriented. The words that are resealed can cut worse than any blade or dagger.

But as he rode through the valley, He was struck back off his horse. He hit the ground rolling and tumbling, ripping his armor to ribbons. He was defenseless as he looked down to see a long arrow sticking from his chest. His mask was intact as he screamed for the attackers response. He pulled the arrow out and saw that the tip was flaming like the coals of a brisk fire. He fell back because he had not realized how badly he was wounded. As his eyes opened, His mask was being lifted by a fair maiden. She leaned down and kissed him. He felt the same warmth as the arrow had delivered. He did not need the armors defense. Because she was not there to hurt him. But to ride by his side with his hand in hers. The knight left his helm and sword intact on that ground with the arrow. He knew that they were not needed because he found what he had been fighting for, for so long. A fair maiden to heal his wounds and soothe his scars. Her touch was rare but he knew that her heart was pure.