200 Years Ago
London — Strand Lane
London that night was drowning under a heavy gray sky, from which clouds hung as if they might fall upon people's heads. The rain hadn't started yet, but its scent was in the air—the smell of damp earth and rusty iron, and the scent of stories yet untold.
In one of the narrow alleys, two streets away from the banks of the Thames, stood an old, leaning house, its windows covered in layers of dust, and beneath that house, a cold, dark basement.There lived Emmanuel.
A slender young man but strong in build, his skin pale from lack of sunlight, his eyes the color of fire, his hair blond like pure gold, and in his voice, something of a dream.
Emmanuel was one of those few whom time had not worn down despite their poverty—his heart was so kind that the people he helped always thought he hid other intentions.But the truth was, he hid nothing… what was in his heart came out in his actions as it was; they were the ones who hid their suspicions about him.
His dream was simple and impossible at the same time:
To become a noble knight.
But the age of chivalry had passed decades ago.
Swords had become mere decorations in palaces,hung for memories, not for battles.Yet,he did not give up.
Emmanuel fought every day… but without a sword.
Only with his fists.
He woke at six in the morning—"Tick… tick…" the wooden wall clock insisted.
His body was exhausted,but the first thing he did was drop to the floor and begin his exercises.
"One… two… three…"
Until he reached one hundred push-ups.Sweat poured from his forehead,glistening on his cold skin like droplets of molten steel.
He bathed in cold water, then sat for a while, eating his simple breakfast—a piece of dry bread and one egg.
After that,he put on his old work clothes and stood before the cracked mirror.
He looked at himself,contemplated his muscles, taut from hard labor, not sport, then changed his posture like a soldier proudly awaiting orders.
In the corner lay a black suit of armor,old and worn, left to him by his grandfather before he died.
And on his wrist,a strange bracelet of dark metal, a memento from his grandfather too, which he never removed.
He would touch the armor with his finger, then smile a brief smile.
"I will make you see the light again… I promise."
He hurried out of the basement into the street.
The rain began whispering from afar—"Shshshsh…"
The first thing he did on his way to work was stop to help others.
Once to fix a cartwheel,another time to help an old woman cross the street.
The word"thank you" from passersby was his real fuel.
Every time he heard it, he smiled as if it were a medal on his chest, and went to work.
He worked in a small tavern on the street corner.
A place full of smoke and noise,and the smell of cheap liquor.
He was the one who cleaned,who served drinks, who broke up fights when they erupted.
"Craaaaaash!"
The sound of shattering glasses.
"Leave him alone, you fool!"
"Bam!"
A punch to a drunkard's face,then calm returned.
The tavern owner saw him as stupid—just a simple boy who could be exploited mercilessly.
But Emmanuel didn't care.
He always told himself:
"I don't work for him… I work for myself."
And when he finished his work around midnight, he ran back to the basement.
He changed his clothes quickly,put on the old mask his grandfather had left him—the mask of heroism—and wore the knight's armor.
And in a moment,he transformed from "Emmanuel the Barman" into the wild Knight.
He went out into the streets of London, which slept in fear.
The streets weren't empty due to sleep,but due to danger.
Thieves,murderers, rapists… they all came out to hunt those who remained.
But above their sounds,he began to hear another echo—
The sound of heavy footsteps,their rhythm steady like the pulse of war:
Bam… bam… bam…
That was Emmanuel, patrolling the narrow alleys, looking for "trouble to solve."
He wasn't seeking glory,but meaning.
Proof that he was still worthy of being a noble human in an age that had forgotten the meaning of nobility.
In one of the dead-end alleys, he heard a muffled thud.
Then a faint moan…a feminine one.
He ran towards it.
There,in the darkness, a girl's feet were dragging towards the corner.
He shouted:
"Leave her alone!"
But the reply came as vulgar laughter.
The laughter of villains—the kind that announces evil's victory before it happens.
"Hahahahaha!"
He took a step forward and said in a sharp voice:
"Quiet… your laughter makes me nauseous."
One of the three men replied sarcastically:
"Who are you, idiot? Do you think this is a masquerade ball?"
Then he picked up a stone and hurled it at him.
"Thud!"
The stone hit Emmanuel's armor,producing a deep metallic sound.
At that moment, the girl seized the opportunity and ran away with all her might.
One of the men shouted:
"Damn it! You let our prey escape… but no matter, you'll take her place!"
Emmanuel slowly raised his fists, his stance straight as a wall, his voice low but steady:
"Come closer if you have the courage."
Two of them attacked him at once.
The blows were fast,but all they heard was the sound of metal deflecting them.
"Claaang! Claaaang!"
Then Emmanuel replied with a single punch—
"Boooom!"
He sent one man flying to hit the stone wall,followed by the second with a similar blow.
The two fell to the ground unconscious.
The third remained, the one with the sharp tongue.
"You're dead, masked man!"
He rushed at Emmanuel with a rusty dagger,but instead of attacking, he suddenly turned and fled at top speed.
"Tak tak tak tak…"
Emmanuel's footsteps echoed in the alleys as he followed him with his heavy steps:
"Bam… bam… bam…"
Two parallel sounds,one light and panicked, the other steady as fate.
People began lighting their house lights.
Curtains opened,voices wondered:
"What's happening over there?"
The panicked runner ran randomly, until he entered a dilapidated old house at the end of the street.
He quickly closed the door behind him.
He thought he was safe.
But the door slowly opened again—"Creeeek…"
And the wild Knight entered.
The house inside was empty…
No furniture,no sounds.
Only the echo of his footsteps reverberated—"Bam… bam…"
Then suddenly—
"Fshshshsh!"
The air vibrated.
The walls cracked,and the floor vanished from under his feet.
The air changed color,and the place turned upside down.
Emmanuel screamed:
"What is this?!"
But the sound disappeared.
There was no longer a street,nor a house.
Only an endless void,and the sounds of doors creaking in the nothingness, swaying gently and emitting faint sounds:
"Klaaaank… klaaaank…"
He had transitioned from his world…
To the World of Doors.