The guards, seasoned soldiers in their own right, were struck dumb at the sight of the man before them. Although the holy radiance that Arriane had encountered seemed to have faded, the man was still armed with the most intricate armor they had ever seen.
"Gods," one of them muttered under his breath, "what manner of forge could craft such a thing?"
Their wonder quickly gave way to unease as they began to approach the knight. Though they had the man outnumbered they were unsure of their chances should a conflict arise.
"Surrender your weapons," ordered the captain, ready for a confrontation. Yet, to their surprise, Gideon simply nodded cordially.
"As you wish," his sword was taken off his waist, and laid on the soft ground at his feet. "It's yours to take," he said calmly, with a slight upward tilt of his lips.
"Take a step back"
Gideon complied, hands loosely clasped behind his back, the picture of serenity.
The captain waved forward one of his men. "Mors. Take it."
The soldier stepped forward cautiously, wrapping one hand around the hilt, Mors gave a tug—then another. He frowned. Bracing both hands on the weapon, he heaved with all his might, the tendons in his arms straining under the effort.
Nothing.
The sword did not so much as tilt or wobble. Mors let out a grunt, redoubling his efforts, sweat beading on his brow. He pulled and twisted until his face turned red, then staggered back, panting heavily.
"Mors!" barked the captain. "Stop playing around and pick up the damn sword!"
The soldier staggered back, shaking his head. "Captain, you don't understand. I can't."
A soft chuckle escaped Gideon's lips.
"What's so funny?" Mors snapped, turning on him.
"It's nothing," Gideon replied smoothly, his faint smirk returning. "You just looked rather... constipated trying to pick up my weapon."
"You bastard—"
"Shut up, Mors!" growled the captain, stepping in to quiet him. "I'll get it myself."
With a grumble, the captain stepped forward, and squaring his shoulders, gripped the hilt firmly with both hands and gave a mighty tug. For all his strength, however, the sword might as well have been a fixture of the earth. It refused to budge, utterly immovable.
Frustration gave way to suspicion, the captain turned back to Gideon, his jaw clenched. "What sorcery is this?"
"No sorcery," Gideon replied evenly. "The sword is bound to me by the Lord, and no one else may wield it."
Mors scoffed, his frustration palpable. "Convenient tale. Why should we believe you?"
Gideon turned his gaze to the soldier, his expression one of pity and disappointment, as though speaking to a child who had failed a simple lesson. "Apologies," he said, his voice dripping with mock sincerity, "but are you and your captain just pitifully weak, then?"
The soldier's face turned scarlet. "Why you—!"
"Mors!" barked the captain, cutting him off sharply. "You're embarrassing yourself."
Mors fell back, grumbling under his breath as the captain fixed his eyes back on Gideon. "Then the weapon will have to stay here until we can trust you to reclaim it."
Gideon's eyes narrowed, his tone unwavering. "This I cannot agree with. This weapon was entrusted to me by the Heavenly Father Himself. I will not part with it."
The captain's jaw tightened. "I do not care about your fanciful tales of this blade. How are we supposed to trust you—someone we hardly know—with a weapon while standing so close to our Princess?"
"Because, Captain," Gideon replied, "I have stood here, within arm's reach of your Princess, and done no harm. If my purpose were ill, you would surely know it by now."
The words hung heavily in the air. The captain's skeptical expression faltered as he glanced toward Arriane for guidance. She had been silent throughout the tense exchange. Stepping forward, Arriane exhaled and inclined her head. "He's right. If harm was his intent, I would most likely not be standing here right now."
The captain opened his mouth as if to protest but quickly thought better of it. Instead, he clenched his jaw and gave a grudging nod.
Gideon inclined his head in gratitude. Wordlessly, he bent to retrieve his sword, lifting it with ease that stood in stark contrast to the soldiers' earlier struggles. He secured it back to his waist with deliberate motions before straightening.
"How far is the journey, Princess?" Gideon asked, breaking the awkward silence.
"Three leagues," Arriane replied evenly. Her brow arched slightly, her tone adopting a faintly teasing edge. "I assume walking will pose no issue for you?"
Gideon offered a faint smile, "None at all. But the sun is beginning to dip toward the horizon," he remarked, gesturing toward the amber glow in the distance. "Should we not head out now?"
Arriane nodded in agreement, but the captain interjected, barking orders to his men, "Alright! Let's head out!"
—
The rhythmic creak of the carriage wheels filled the air as it moved steadily along the winding path. Gideon walked alongside it, his towering frame keeping pace effortlessly. Arriane leaned out through the open window, her curious gaze fixed on the mysterious man.
"So," she began, her tone edged with intrigue, "you believe in a dead God then?"
Gideon turned his head slightly towards her, his expression serene. "Princess, as I have mentioned before, the Lord Jesus Christ rose again on the third day, ascending into heaven. His purpose on this earth was fulfilled."
Arriane tilted her head, studying his calm visage. "His purpose was to die, then?"
Gideon chuckled softly, though it was devoid of mockery. "His purpose was to save us," he explained. "Let me ask you this Princess, let's say there is a pack of ducks that need to be led to shelter. How would you go about doing so?"
Arriane raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking slightly. "Is this a metaphor?"
"Just humor me, Princess," Gideon replied with a faint smile.
She leaned on the windowsill, contemplating his unusual question. "Hmm… Maybe by making it so they have no other options? Taking away all their other choices until the only path left is shelter."
Gideon nodded slightly as if expecting her answer. "So you would take away their free will then?"
"I guess you could put it like that," she admitted with a slight shrug. "If it ensured their safety, it might be worth it."
"And what if I suggested you could become a duck yourself," Gideon pressed, "to guide them to shelter without forcing their decision? Do you think you would do that?"
Arriane tilted her head, a spark of intrigue lighting her gaze. "Are the ducks meant to represent us?" she asked cautiously.
Gideon chuckled softly again as he walked beside the carriage. "In this case, yes, the ducks represent humanity. So great was God's love for us," he explained, his voice imbued with reverence, "that He willingly reduced Himself to our mortal coils. He lived as we do, suffered as we do, even more than any of us could imagine, to guide us. And not by taking away our choices but by showing us the way, inviting us to follow Him willingly—to an eternity with Him in paradise."
"As it is written in the Gospel of John, Chapter 3, verse 16: For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." Gideon's words were accompanied by his gaze moving to the Bible which his Lord had gifted him for his journey.
Arriane leaned back in her seat, eyes thoughtful as she gazed at the horizon. "To give up so much for people who may never choose to follow…" she murmured. "That sounds foolish, noble, but foolish."
"It was love, Princess," Gideon said simply. "The purest form of it. To choose sacrifice without expectation or guarantee—that is the heart of my faith."
Silence fell between them for a moment, the rhythmic creak of the carriage wheels filling the air. Arriane appeared lost in thought, her gaze distant before a small, playful smile tugged at her lips. Leaning out her window toward Gideon once more, she broke the quiet.
"Enough about this belief of yours," she said. "I have so many questions. You've lived such a full life, and you've mentioned parts of your home in your tales with me. How come I've never heard of any of these places?"
"That is a hard question to answer, Princess," Gideon admitted. "I don't quite know the truth of it myself."
"Why? Was it all a lie?" she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Gideon chuckled, shaking his head. "I would have to be quite the playwright to invent such things on the spot, don't you think?"
"Perhaps," she mused, her smile widening. After a pause, her expression grew curious. "Is your purpose here to force me to convert to your faith, then?"
"Never force, Princess," Gideon replied. "I simply wish to share the light of the Lord with you and all of your people. Whether you choose to follow the same path I walk is entirely up to your discretion."
Arriane blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly in surprise. "You wouldn't push for me to change my mind?"
"Push maybe, but the most I can do is share with you God's love. Forcing you would mean taking away your free will, Princess," Gideon explained. "And free will was God's greatest gift to humanity. It's what allows us to do both great good and great evil, to create and destroy. I would not be able to look the Lord in the eye if I took such a precious gift from one of His creations."
Arriane's lips parted as though she were about to speak again, but then she hesitated, her cheeks taking on the faintest pink hue. "Did you… have any maidens back home?" she asked at last, her voice almost too casual.
Gideon turned his head slightly, looking up at her with a raised brow. "Where is this question coming from, Princess?"
"Such a handsome and noble man must've had many ladies vying for his attention, no?" she continued, her playfulness now fully apparent.
Gideon chuckled softly, the sound deep and warm. "Perhaps," he replied thoughtfully. "But I devoted my life to the Lord. Such pursuits were never my focus." His gaze shifted slightly to the horizon.
"Did your Lord forbid it?"
"No," he replied, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Love is one of God's greatest gifts to humanity. I just simply haven't found the one whom I shall love yet." His voice softened, though his conviction remained firm.
Her eyes narrowed, the playful glint turning into genuine curiosity. "But you are looking then?"
Gideon locked eyes with Arriane once again, before simply replying, "If God wills it."
A contemplative silence fell between them before Arriane broke it with a teasing smirk. "I don't believe I have ever met a man as devout as you appear to be."
Gideon's lips quirked up into a gentle smile. "That is quite the compliment, Princess."
Arriane leaned slightly out of the window, her playful smile unfaltering. "Arriane," she replied simply.
"Pardon?" Gideon raised an eyebrow.
"Please, call me Arriane," she repeated with a soft chuckle. "I think it sounds much better than 'Princess.'"
"That is hardly proper, Princess," Gideon said, his lips curving into an amused, almost bemused, smile.
Arriane's smile widened. "I don't see your God saying you can't," she replied with a deliberate teasing tone, leaning just a bit closer. "If anything, He'd want you to speak freely, wouldn't He?"
Gideon blinked before a soft chuckle escaped him. He nodded slightly in concession, a gentle sigh escaping his lips. "Very well, Arriane," he said simply.
(A/N) Planning on a slow-burn romance between Arriane and Gideon, but it will take many many chapters to flesh out. Also, this is no harem if that isn't clear.
The story will mostly be focused on religion/maybe in the future kingdom building, the romance will be more of a subplot within the story. Feel free to comment any ideas.