Aldric never thought he would see the light of day again. A mighty paladin reduced to nothing but a crumpled, bleeding heap of iron and flesh on the ground... he felt pathetic. Disgraceful. He could only hope the Creator above would have mercy on his soul.

And yet...

The dragon that had nearly sent him to meet his divine Creator had its life ended too soon. A stranger—a kind stranger, no less—had come to his aid. They ran to his side, took him back to their home, and nursed him back to health. Aldric couldn’t recount the details; he kept drifting in and out of consciousness. His vision was spotted and blurry, and his memory was fuzzy.

He vaguely remembered being brought to a small cottage—their home, no doubt. He didn’t have time to admire it before he was rendered unconscious once more. While awake, he hardly spoke. His religion forbade it. He could only recall a few words...

“My... helmet... l-leave it.” It was all he could ask of the stranger who had saved his life. For as long as he could remember, his helmet and his armor had shielded him from the outside world. He felt safer with it on.

It had felt like a selfish request at the time, but his savior had respected it, tending to his other, numerous wounds littered across his body. When he finally awoke, his wounds cleaned and bandaged, he found his bloodied armor being cleaned and polished by the kind stranger. Impulsively, he loudly blurted his name to them.

“S-Sir Aldric at your service!” By the Gods above... what a disgraceful outburst!

That had been six months ago. Presently, Aldric followed them around like a shadow. On every adventure, every quest and task, he followed them. He ignored their dismissals and their attempts to separate from him. Eventually, they gave up.

They made quite a formidable team! Even though Aldric hardly spoke, his companion didn’t seem to mind. They understood him better than anyone ever had.

While they sat around a fire, he found himself staring. He hoped that, one day, he could tell them how much they meant to him.