Work Text:
In the heart of Dragonopolis there stands a marble staute of a princely knight atop a horse, his sword out in his right hand pointing forever east, marking new beginnings.
An eternally serious expression with the barest of smiles dances across this life-like statue, but you can see, that in his eyes he holds the love of his family, of his home, and of the world.
There, you see a short man tending the statue, plucking the weeds from the base, watering the flowers, and polishing. This short man seems to be getting on in his years but he still works just as feverently as the day the statue was erected.
Children often gather around the old man to hear stories of the brave knight. The old man obliges every time the children come, even if it is the same children every day, asking for the same stories. He chuckles and teases them before they all settle down to listen.
Then, at exactly eight pm sharp a dragon comes to talk, one horn appearing to have broken off in the past shows regrowth, a long tail with ebony scales trails behind him. A benovolent ruler. Beloved by all. He talks about his day, about his feelings on certain topics, and spares no detail about everything he saw.
The caretaker is there too, he only listens to his king, but he smiles with every detail.
Once the king is finished he leaves hand in hand with the old man back to the castle where they have dinner the two of them. The old man had long since been banned from the kitchens.
There is another knight, relieved of his duties for the day, who visits the princley knight as well. At exactly ten thirty pm he walks to the heart of his city. In the privacy of the night he expresses everything he can't when the sun is watching. He will always spend twenty minutes down to the second there, under the protection of the statue, but tonight is different.
The lonely knight sits and waits for his king and the caretaker, they come bearing baskets. They all sit together and celebrate to the princley knight. The previously cold night is now warm with light and laughter. Their lights lit till dawn, they make their procession back to the not-so-looming castle to begin anew.