The Black Knight’s Triumph

He rode his black horse through the gates of the city, his black armour shining like a mirror in the firelight. He was the leader of the victorious army, the conqueror of the land, the bringer of death and destruction. He had no name, no mercy, no remorse.

He dismounted from his horse, and walked towards the city's king, his heavy boots crushing the ashes and bones that littered the ground. He reached him and snatched the crown from his hands. He placed it on his bald head and looked around. He saw the city in flames, the buildings collapsing, the people screaming. He saw his flag flying high above the palace, his emblem of a black dragon on a red field. He saw his victory complete.

He smiled.