Prologue // Pre-Siege
The day was going so well, it had seemed that Camelot was a perfect haven, untouched by the darkness and tucked away far enough to keep it that way. But those assumptions were just illusions, a farce created by the minds of those who had sought sanctuary here. Created by the lack of memories each knight gave up. They only wanted it to be a utopia where they could peacefully train to become full fledged knights. And Haze was no exception to this delusion. The white haired man had settled down into this new town, allowing himself to explore various places, obtaining some new armor, and even meeting some new faces at the dinning hall.
But he too had to face the harsh reality, letting his dreamed up world crack and shatter under the pressure of darkness.
Crash.
His eyes dared to strain outside the window, seeing the sky that was once a vibrant shade of blue turn into a blanket of chaos. It was enough to turn his stomach into all kinds of knots. When did this world become such a hell? He only had a fleeting memory. A feeling that pricked against his skin, but then floated away when he tried to make sense of it all. Shaking his head Haze would let out a harsh breath. He needed to do something, and fast. The man was sitting on a bench in his quarters, his shirt having been pulled off as he bandaged his hands and forearms up, results from the training he had partook in earlier.
Haze stood up quickly, running over to where he had gathered some of his supplies, digits tracing over the various weapons and armor that was stored there. A silver gaze darting to the black chain mail that he had slung over one of the hooks. Taking it from it's place Haze placed it over his slender fit body. The cool metal against his skin soon weighed his body down. But he had no time to pay mind to this, he was used to it by now anyway. The armor would cover his entire torso up until his wrist and waist. Making sure none of it would snag the white-haired male proceeded to pull his belted tunic over top of the metal. Letting it fall into place before fastening the front. And lastly came his vibrant red scarf. Reaching out for it his fingers rubbed the fabric in between them. It felt so nostalgic, why did he always wear this piece of cloth? He was never seen without it. Yet no matter how hard he tried, the events that took place before all of this was all a blur, all but the flickering of fire that suddenly haunted his mind. With the blink of an eye it was gone.
What were these memories?
So many questions plagued the man but he didn't have time for it anymore. It was time to defend the sliver of hope he had. He couldn't let the ideals he had completely shatter. Something had lead him to come here... lead him to continue on even with his surroundings spiraling out of control... let him to survive. It was time to fight.
