The Knight's Secret

Sir Jacob wasn't expecting his day to go like this. He was tasked to slay the dragon near his village by the newly crowned king. He decided to recruit his friend, Gravehaim Vunderpost. Gravehaim was trained in the magic arts, and was very gifted at magic. Sir Jacob and Gravehaim were the perfect team. Unfortunately, the battle didn't go as well as Sir Jacob had hoped. He was very bloody, but most of it was the dragon's. He had no severe injuries, thanks to his armor. He dealt the final blow, slicing into the dragon's stomach. He winced at the small cut on his face and turned around. Gravehaim's injuries were much worse, his left shoulder splintered into many pieces and blood pouring from his torso and forehead. The dragon had thrown him against the wall. Sir Jacob looked at Gravehaim, wondering if he was going to survive. He noticed Gravehaim's spellbook cast aside. He picked up the book, hoping to find a simple healing spell that he could cast. The dragon corpse behind him started oozing a foul-smelling liquid that started burning the ground. Sir Jacob had to act quickly. He flipped through the spell book quickly, his eyes darting back and forth between the pages looking for a healing spell that he could do. He found the correct incantation, but it had a cost. He had to reveal his secret, the one he had kept for decades, in order for the healing magic to work. He took a deep breath and blurted out, "I killed the king." Silence filled the room save for the blood of the dragon slowly burning the floor. When the magic leapt out of the ground, it surprised Sir Jacob. It flew into Gravehaim's body, healing the deep cuts that surrounded his body. The swirls of light captivated Sir Jacob, as the Gravehaim's blood seeped back into his body and his splintered left shoulder bone reattached itself. The light vanished, as did Sir Jacob's trance. Gravehaim twitched for a moment, before suddenly gasping and sitting up. Sir Jacob smiled before the secret dawned on him. "Did you-" he started to say. "Good gracious!" Gravehaim sputtered. "This is most unorthodox! What happened, Sir Jacob?" Sir Jacob stared at the wizard before muttering, "You were half-dead, and I healed you." "No, no! Not that! Why is the dragon's blood heating the floor? This is abnormal," Gravehaim sputtered. "Oh, that. Well, I may have pierced his stomach..." Sir Jacob said sheepishly. Gravehaim looked at him as if Sir Jacob was the most idiotic human in existence. "I have told you many times that a dragon's fire comes from his stomach acid!" Gravehaim shouted. "We have to get out of here before we're engulfed in flame!" Sir Jacob wheeled around. The exit stood 50 yards away from them. "Come on! Grab the spell book and run!" Sir Jacob shouted. Gravehaim walked slowly to the book and scooped it up with his right hand. He flipped through it, looking for a certain incantation. "What are you doing?!" Sir Jacob shouted. Gravehaim muttered words under his breath that Sir Jacob couldn't hear and clapped the spell book closed. The dragon's blood seeped back into the skin of the dragon. "Now we should run," Gravehaim said. The swirls of light reappeared and Sir Jacob turned towards the exit and fled before he could be entranced by them again. Gravehaim and Sir Jacob reached the exit simultaneously and ducked behind a large stone before the dragon woke again. They heard it bellow, as if it still felt the pain from it's wounds, then heat immediately burst from within the cave. "Drasvagh, Dechiri, Nesvhachad," Gravehaim muttered. The heat from the cave ceased. "What did you do?" Sir Jacob asked. "I delayed it," Gravehaim muttered grimly. "In a few minutes, it will be dead." "Why didn't you use this spell before?" Sir Jacob asked Gravehaim, staring intently at the closed spell book. "Because it will kill me too," Gravehaim sighed. Sir Jacob turned pale. "Y-You're going to die?" "I am," Gravehaim said, nodding. "We are friends, correct?" He turned his head towards Sir Jacob. "Yes, I believe so," Sir Jacob replied. "We both told secrets to save lives, we both used the healing spell. Let's tell each other the secrets, if we are friends," Gravehaim suggested. Sir Jacob closed his eyes. "You first, or me?" he asked. "I'll go," Gravehaim said. "I murdered your father." "The king?" Sir Jacob asked. "Yes, the king. I was practicing my magic one day, when, well, the king died suddenly. I have no choice but to blame myself for his death. Who knows what spell I used..." Gravehaim said. A lone tear came to his eye. Sir Jacob flashed back to when he was 10 years old. He was in the great hall, his drunken mess of a father sitting on the throne. His father was not the king, but rather his identical twin brother, that often pretended to rule the land. Sir Jacob hated his father, for he severely beat him and his mother, and one day, decided to kill him with the sword he was gifted at the squire academy. He crept into the throne room and saw his father sitting alone on the throne, with no crown atop his head. He charged forwards and struck his father in the head with his sword. He faced the throne, and, to his horror, the crown was sitting in the man who he thought was his father's lap, in the midst of being polished. At that very moment, Gravehaim's magic killed his father, who was in the dungeons. He replaced the king's corpse with his father's, and his father was declared missing. Sir Jacob opened his eyes and turned to face Gravehaim. "I have moments to spare," Gravehaim said. Sir Jacob took a deep breath. "I know that you killed the king," he said, swallowing the vomit that had started to creep up his throat. Gravehaim smiled, content. Beams of light shot from him and the cave and with one bright flash, he was gone.