The Little Knight

The night was quiet for once.

The night was quiet, and welcoming, and calm. There were seldom nights like this one. The air was thick and warm. A gentle breeze shuffled through the old wooden porch and the empty rocking chairs that sat the giants swayed back and forth solemnly. Billions of twinkling stars shone in the dark blue ocean of a sky, and the moon acted as a wise old guardian to the landscape below. There were animals of all sorts about, some that glowed and some that did not; some that flew and some that stayed grounded. All were thankful. All were at peace.

The Little Knight was not.

The Little Knight was the unofficial guardian of this land, and though the moon acted as his guide, he did all of the work in order to keep everything serene. The Little Knight had no name; there was no need for one. He donned a helmet made of acorn and the skull-mask of an animal that had long since rejoined the earth. The Little Knight draped himself in a cloak of dark brown and red leaves, and he wore boots made from bark and honey. Grass covered the remainder of his tiny body, and he strapped a sword made of one of the giants’ needles across his back at all times. The Little Knight never spoke (as stated before, there was seldom a need), although that didn’t stop him from being noticed. The animals around the area would chitter and chirp and desperately try to make their way over to him. Everyone wanted to meet him. Everyone wanted to admire his courage. On this particular night, however, nobody did as such.

And that was okay.

That was okay with The Little Knight.

In fact, he was grateful for the change.

The Little Knight needed to focus. The quiet was terrifying. The peace left an open nest of hope to be snatched up by a peering hawk. The giants always brawled this time of night. Horrible hoots and howls could be heard coming from inside, and all of the animals and inhabitants of the land would know what was happening. The fight would lead outside. Burrows would be destroyed. The trees and plants and vegetables growing innocently around would be squashed or eliminated. The giants fought with malice and hungry hatred. They were unaware of the danger and destruction they caused until the following day, where they would mend their own wounds, along with the weeping wounds of their land. It would all start back up again by the time the moon rose.

The Little Knight guarded the animals. He led them to safety whenever the giants fought, and he would strike away falling branches and leaves that attempted to hinder their escape. Sometimes The Little Knight would stay behind to fight, his needle protruding through one of the giants’ toes and causing them to collapse in a heaping pile of their own wet tears. Pain seemed to wake up the tusseling giants from their enraged trance, though The Little Knight hardly ever got close enough to inflict any worse pain than that. Every time he tried, he ended up getting hurt himself.

Tonight, all was still. There was music wafting into the outside world through an open window that rested just above one of the rocking chairs and allowed entrance to the giants’ kitchen. The Little Knight had been in the giants’ domain many times. He was no longer afraid of it. In fact, more than anything, he was captivated by it. Intrigued. How could a pair of giants, with a massive house, and more vacinities they would ever need, how could they fight? How could they hate one another’s presence? In a world where this was true (because The Little Knight did not fully believe that to be the case) why hadn’t they just left one another to rot? It would have been much easier. Yes, much easier indeed. Did they enjoy suffering? Did they enjoy making the world around them, the homes and luxuries unseen and unnoticed by them, did they enjoy making them suffer? The Little Knight also could not believe that. Something in his gut told him so.

The music coming from inside the house was smooth and sentimental. The Little Knight couldn’t understand a word of it, though he realized later on that there were no words, not even in the giants’ tongue. It was simply that; music. The Little Knight hopped from the open window and onto the old wooden desk, dust flying up in specks the moment his feet came in contact with it. For a moment, his world changed, and he saw a possibility for peace in this broken home. For now, of course, he knew it was better to live outside of it.

The Little Knight pushed forward, allowing his eyes to drift over some words on the covers of monstrously-sized books that, again, he couldn’t understand. His senses softened for a moment, and he had to stop and think about whether the giants were even home. If they were out fighting somewhere else. For some reason, his heart broke at the thought. The Little Knight allowed himself a moment to listen to the music; to imagine a place of peace. Perhaps one day he would grasp it. Perhaps, one day, so would the outside world. Perhaps even the giants themselves.

Yes. Perhaps.

For now, however, he had to keep moving.

Curious, The Little Knight jumped from the desk and onto the chair, then from the chair onto the floor. Nothing seemed to be misplaced or ajar. That was the problem. The Little Knight knew that the moment he allowed himself to get comfortable in the calm, that it would immediately be broken. He survived this way.

He never really lived.

The record suddenly stopped, and with a bit of pity The Little Knight noticed the music completely shut off. The song was over. There were no more after that. He continued on. The kitchen was barren, as was the living area. Travelling upstairs would be a chore, but he would do it nonetheless. While struggling up the stairs, The Little Knight stopped to wonder if the giants ever took notice of him. If they even could. Or if they were too caught up in their game of loathsome existence. He allowed his mind to imagine a scenario where the giants were not only at peace with the outside world but with themselves, as well. With the presence of one another. The Little Knight’s chest suddenly tightened. He swallowed, and continued up, shutting down his thoughts.

The top step was the hardest to get over. Not because The Little Knight was tired or afraid, but because he was hesitant. What would he find, if anything? Which was the more frightening option? The Little Knight made it to the top and looked around. The floors creaked under the miniscule weight of his tiny body; he wondered how the giants themselves could walk around so comfortably and securely. Did they?

The Little Knight began his official search, going through room after room and finding them all vacant. Each room was dark, with only the light from the hallway illuminating a tiny sliver against the floor. Every single room was void of any life. No giants up here.

The Little Knight grew frantic. The corners of his vision began to blur as his chest tightened once again. He rushed back downstairs by sliding down the railing, not wishing to waste more precious time on the steps. He hit the ground roughly, but did not allow that to stop him. He instead trudged forward, going through the kitchen and into the dining area, where there was another gigantic door leading into the backyard. At this point, the night was secure. The wind had picked up only a little, but it did not rush or taunt The Little Knight. It beckoned him forward into the warmth of the night once again. Hesitantly, The Little Knight pushed himself through a crack in the bottom corner of the door, stepping back outside. His heart jumped at the sight.

Two giants, both grotesque and miserable, were sitting in separate chairs by a burning fire. The chairs were positioned right next to one another, and, to The Little Knight’s utter surprise, the giants were holding hands. Their large fingers were intertwined, and their arms rested lightly in the air between the arms of their chairs. By the steadiness of their breathing, it was clear that they were both fast asleep. The Little Knight was completely bewildered. He stood at the top stair of the giants’ back porch for what seemed like an eternity.

They were still.

No fighting.

No yelling.

Peace.

For once.

At last.

At long, long last.

The fire had long since dimmed, and was flickering out in a wave of smoke whenever The Little Knight came to. He slowly reached up and removed his mask and helmet, allowing them to fall to his side. His legs gave way, and he sat in stunned silence of the scene before him. He could see from the side of the left giant’s face that they were smiling.

Peace, The Little Knight thought once again.

He wept for the first time since the night came.