They left me alone for a moment's peace. Ha! Peace... I wished such would come to me. I sat on the bed, deep in thought. Each memory scarred my mind as it came to me, the fury, the noise, the rumbling and bloodshed, the voices. My hands instantly rose to my head, pulsing in feverish and fickle flares, until I stood up, the swarms of words, memories, and the voices in my head, protruding from my mind only to come back like a snake and stab its venomous fangs into my rotting brain again and again and again and...

"SHUT... UP!" I screamed, shattering the previously omnipotent silence. As my voice rang, the air, like a spider and its web, tangled itself back together into its deep silence. Not a word was heard, not a sound was uttered, and not a single move was made. Even the brimming, fiery torches upon the wall softly calmed to a brittle flame.

A sigh escaped me. Concentrating for a moment, I took a few minutes to put my armour on bit by bit, and then stood up, looking in a nearby mirror, nodded, and marched out into the Grand Hall.

The great, spiraling pillars of stone rose up in columns of four to hold up the palace of a castle, on either side of the room of course, there were only two columns. Turning the corner, a picturesque sight came to me. The long, red, silk carpet, with gold lines down the sides of it, was rolled out in a royal and ceremonial matter. Along the sides of it, knights were knelt along the side, their swords pointed to the ground and their heads bowing down. The sun was shining through the glass high above in the castle, down upon the carpet. At the far end was a long, short podium with a long item wrapped in cloth. Behind this were giant stained glass designs of the Lady and of the Grail.

The maid who had tended to my bandaged wounds stood beside the podium, as Sir Reginald appeared from a back room walking slowly up to the podium, nodding to me, signaling me to come to him. The walk seemed so long as I came down, and up the 3 steps to the podium, where the maid handed Reginald the item and he knelt before me, holding it up with both hands.

"Keep it, it was your father's, and you too should use it. We found it by you when we found you." He said. The knights' heads turned up to look at me as I unraveled the cloth... and the shine hit me in the eyes.

It was Alexander's Great Sword. I clasped the hilt in my hands, the shine of the metal bright as it was held close to me, and its weight was heavy. I began to walk down to the great wooden doors on the other end, and as I did, the knights stood up as I passed and nodded to me, acknowledging the mourning and grief they believed I was going through.

The blade rested over my shoulder, holding it with one hand, the aura around it a light white and blue, as it began to surround me. My hair went to a dazzling white for a moment; my eyes shone a light blue, as it then dispersed. The magical power in this blade was unlike any other. The great doors before me opened and a yeoman walked in, the reigns of a horse in his hands, and the beautiful steed behind him.

"A gift from Henri Borechard." he said in a thick Breton-Lyonnesse accent. Such generosity was unexpected from someone I had just met, but I accepted his offerings. As I saddled upon the horse and rode outside where the main gates, portcullis, and drawbridge were opened up, a small army was arrayed on the field before me, with Henri Borechard at the helm.

"As little as I can console you, Jean, these men before you marched across the entire province of Lyonnesse and then some just to eradicate the dreaded Chaos filth which had led itself upon your home, time for mourning is accepted, but it would be wise to move on. You have years upon years ahead of you, and I have heard you have potential. Come with me to the West, you will find ease to your pain away from home, I swear it." were his words.

Somehow this man reached me as blunt, yet he had a way of making it sound so much better then what it was actually saying. His condolences helped, that's all I could really ask from someone like him.