Concept based off of Watadrag(Deviant art profile)/Notthiscrap (tumblr profile) wonderful fan art.
Once long ago, in a land too far to find, there lived a young man named Elijah Bradley. He, along with his grandmother and grandfather, lived in a little cottage outside the kingdom of York. His grandmother was a wise scholar who had earned enough money from her teachings to keep the family happy and well-fed.
But his grandfather, Isaiah Bradley, was of a different case. For you see, in his youth Grandfather Bradley had been cursed with a wicked potion, one that had promised to give him strength, and had, but at a terrible cost…
"Grandfather?" Elijah held his grandfather's morning meal. Porridge with milk he had fetched from the cow. "I have your breakfast."
His grandfather sat on his chair, his eyes gazing to nowhere, and his mind thinking of nothing.
Elijah knew of his grandfather's valor. A long time ago, when the land was threatened by a great evil, it was his grandfather who took up arms to face the challenge. Isaiah took hold of a magic potion, one that would grant him strength but take away his sense of self.
"Be careful" the wizard warned. "This could spell doom for you."
But Sir Isaiah did not let that deter him. He took the potion and vanquashed the evil…but when he returned to the kingdom he had protected, he was branded a traitor and left to rot in the dungeons of York.
Elijah knew that story well. It was the last thing he thought of before he slumbered, and the first think he knew of when he awoke. He knew his grandfather, this poor man with no voice who sat in front of him now, was a knight. No, further than that, he was the greatest knight that the kingdom had ever seen.
Sir Isaiah, knight of valor.
Sir Isaiah, knight of honor
Elijah sat down beside his grandfather, stirred his porridge, blew on it, and gently placed the spoon between his grandfather's lips.
"Grandfather, I swear to you I will make this right."
Elijah did not have his grandfather's great strength, the potion he took was lost to the ages. He did not have his grandfather's training, or his great cleverness. The only thing he did have of Isaiah's was his stories, and his shield.
That old shield that hung upon the mantle like a trophy. After his chores, Elijah would go out into the fields and practice his swordplay. Some days he would practice until the sun passed beyond the horizon, and later still. He vowed he would restore his grandfather's name to glory.
And the most important thing he learned from his grandfather was that a knight never breaks a vow