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The Last Paladin
By: James Ganiswarna
“What a beauty!” Godfrey, the prince and heir to the throne, exclaimed to himself.
Godfrey had just slain a dragon and was admiring the dragon egg that lay before him.
Godfrey laughed… then stopped. Godfrey felt a sharp pain in his body. He was stabbed in
the chest. His lifeless body fell to the ground and blood pooled around his body.
The sun’s rays shone through the stained glass windows in the throne room. A man dressed
in a bright purple robe with a shining golden crown sat on the throne. It was King Jofrrey
III, king of the city of Winterhold. The king sat on the throne with a sti face, staring
silently at the ceiling. He was admiring the beautiful art that rested upon the high roofs of
the throne room. As the king was about to take a sip of his wine, a servant rushed in
through the throne room doors. The servant cried with a trembling voice that the prince,
Godfrey, was found dead in his quarters with a mysterious knife still in his chest. The king,
absolutely stunned by what he heard, ordered his servants to call for the 12th paladin.
“Call upon Thormund immediately!” The king shouted with might.
His servants scrambled to nd the knight in the tavern. Seated in the corner was the 12th
paladin, Thormund. He was one of the few survivors of the Battle of Winterfell. His
disheveled long hair, a stark contrast to his bright shining armor. The servants informed
Thormund that the king had called for him, he put down his drink and dashed towards the
castle.
Thormund entered the throne room and kneeled upon the presence of The King.
“Your Majesty, I am of your service.” Thormund said.
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