September 2026

The Exiled by Alan Mounzer

Part One

He sat in his wool-covered chair, planning his next move and the horror he would bestow upon the lands around the kingdom. He looked to the skies as he smoked his pipe, eyes wide and fierce like the desert nights themselves. His beard and hair were unkempt, signs of his ferocity and wildness, his armor adorned with the loot of his enemies. Sometimes the rewards were mere threads of cloth or silver, but others were of bone and skin. With every puff, his eyes grew larger, and his gaze deeper. His contemplation, however, was cut short.

“Great chief, I…I,” said Thorak.

“What do you want?” asked Ghoul, irritated, as he redirected his sharp gaze towards the man standing next to him.

“Apologies for interrupting you Chief, but I have something to report,” said Thorak as he swallowed his spit.

Ghoul took the last puff from his pipe and threw it on his servant kneeling next to him. He then gently waved towards Thorak as a sign to continue.

“Hmm, chief, a tribesman, Faroon his name is, left this morning,” said Thorak as he took a step backwards.

Ghoul looked left and right. “Left where, my dear Thorak?” he asked sarcastically. “You mean, he mutinied?”

“Hmm, yes, my honorable and great Chief, but I made sure to send men to…”

“You worthless scum. How did you let him escape? Who helped him escape? Dozens of warriors standing guard. How did you not notice his mutiny?” growled Ghoul as he stood up. He was not a necessarily tall man, but his wrath and his presence overshadowed most.

Thorak kept walking backwards until he was almost outside the tent of the Chief.

“My Chief, he tricked us, he…”

Thorak stuttered until he found Ghoul’s hand tightly gripping his neck.

“Go find him, Thorak,” whispered Ghoul. “Because if you do not bring him to me, I will cut you to pieces and hang each piece in every direction of the desert, so everyone will know what happens when you underperform for Ghoul.” He then slapped Thorak so hard that the young man almost fell on his face.

“Immediately, Chief, immediately, just don’t get angry, I beg of you,” said Thorak as he ran off with five men towards the open desert.

“My pipe now!” roared Ghoul as his servant struggled to find it in the sand.

Night fell on the camp as Ghoul was losing his patience. He marched back and forth throughout the camp, and wherever he stomped, the smell of rot and death ensued. His men knew better than to approach him, for his “wolves”, which was how they were labeled by him, stood from afar, careful not to become victims of his blazing wrath. They knew what would happen if anyone disrupted the Ghoul’s nightly march. However, to their relief, they saw five cavalry men galloping towards the camp, led by Thorak and who seemed to be Faroon tied on the back of his horse. Thorak then dismounted his horse and threw Faroon in front of Ghoul as the men approached and encircled the helpless fool who had dared to mutiny from Ghoul’s tribe.

“Greetings, my lovely Faroon,” said Ghoul as his laugh echoed in the desert. “I believe you lost your way. It is a good thing Thorak here found you and brought you back to your family, hmm?” Ghoul pointed his pipe at Faroon.

“I beg you, my lord, I beg you, forgive me, and I won’t do it again. Make me your pipe bearer, your tea servant, just don’t kill me,” squealed Faroon.

Ghoul’s sarcastic smile turned to a horrifying scorn as he kneeled next to the fallen Faroon. “Ghoul does not forgive, you fool. Ghoul only devours. Do you know what I will do to you? I will fry you. Then I will swallow your eyes, then rip your soul to pieces, and after that, I will slaughter you like the stupid lamb you are.”

Ghoul grabbed Faroon’s collar with both hands. The helpless man could smell Ghoul’s rotting breath. He could see blood and meat between Ghoul’s teeth and under his nails. Suddenly Ghoul looked like a demon from the loremasters’s tales: a shapeshifter, a spawn of a jinn bred from hatred and a hunger for absolute power.

Faroon cried and wailed as he called for his mother and his god, but there was no one but Ghoul kneeling on top of him. Suddenly, to the horror of his men, the Chief sank his teeth in Faroon’s neck. Blood and screams gushed out and colored the chief’s tribe with horror.

“Thorak!” shouted Ghoul as blood was dripping from his lips. “Feed this corpse to the hounds and bring me another pipe.”

“Yes, of course, Chief,” said Thorak as he ran to his tent.

“You were all nothing,” growled Ghoul. He looked like a hungry wolf as his men bowed in acknowledgment and submission. “You were all lost before me. Ones without a tribe. I made you all Ghoul’s men. Men who are feared throughout the desert. Every tribe knows my name. They fear me and as such fear you. They shunned you and spat you out, but now, they kneel before you and offer their kin as servants and their cattle as sacrifice. You rule this desert because of my name. Ghoul, son of Golak, the fire of the desert. How do you repay me? By mutiny? Know this, if anyone thinks of leaving this tribe, I will burn you to a crisp. I will cut off your tongue and step on it. But you brought back this carcass, and as such, I shall reward you with what you wish, what Ghoul’s tribe is known for. Tomorrow we raid!”

Ghoul roared as his men cheered and howled in the desert.

“We raid and raid until every tribe falls to their knees, and there is no one who does not fear the name Ghoul. Slaughter everyone and take everything as a prize. This is my reward to you, my kin.”

His men’s cheers turned into fanatic screams.

“Thorak! Slaughter a lamb and feed the men. We need strength for the raid,” ordered Ghoul.

“Immediately Chief, but I…I,” stumbled Thorak.

“Spit it out, you mule,” said Ghoul.

“We just raided last week, I’m not sure there is anything to loot,” said Thorak.

“Ha! Then we kill all of them. Everyone in this kingdom will feel my vengeance and will learn my name. Now hand me my pipe and prepare yourself.”

Ghoul was ready to lacerate the world for the sheer pleasure of it. And naught but the greatest sacrifice and show of virtue could stand against it.

Part Two

The Exiled Knight dragged his feet along the burning dunes. His mail armor boiled under the sun’s wrath, but he would not take it off. His steel helmet, once a sign of glory and respect, now only burned his head, but he would not take it off. His mail gauntlets and his long sword still equipped, but without its scabbard, as an exiled knight was not allowed a house for his sword, so all who look upon him know his shame and his vice, and he would not abandon them. He only replaced his footwear for something more suitable for the desert. He felt death approaching slowly but surely, for he had no more water nor food to last him in his exile.

Alas, he laid down and regretted his life and choices as starvation got the better of him. He was once a knight, though, so he had to try one last time. Even if it was a forlorn hope. He stabbed the sand with his sword, trying to use it to stand up, but he fell down for the last time. He closed his eyes and accepted his death. He dreamt of his life, and regrets, but most of all, he dreamt of his knighthood and his exile. He dreamt of the disgust of his family, the glances of strangers and the fear of the children as he was shamed out of the kingdom.

However, fate had other plans for the exiled knight as he suddenly opened his eyes to a cool breeze and the chattering of people around him. He found himself inside a tent with a dozen Bedouins staring carefully at him, studying his steel attire and fearing the strange-looking straight sword in his palm.

“Oh, thank the gods, you are finally awake,” said a woman sitting next to him. Her face was gentle, but mournful and tired, as if she spent much of her life weeping. Her black hair though, was not affected with grief and danced carefully with the desert wind. “My name is Shah; I am the daughter of this tribe’s chief.”

The knight sat up carefully and looked around him.

“Oh, I am afraid my father was killed in a raid a while back. I am his only heir and as such, rule this little tribe. Old man Fazeer here found you laying down unconscious not far from here. Please have some water.”

The woman gave him a flask of water, but the knight would not take his helmet off. He looked away and opened his helmet’s visor and drank the whole flask. He then closed the visor and bowed his head in thanks to Shah.

Shah stared at him with confusion, as she studied his every move. “Tell me your story, soldier. It is obvious that you are from the capital. Your coat of arms is worn, but the eagle of Muzawwara, the seat of government, is unmistakable. What brings an Oathkeeper knight all the way here? As far as we know, your order rarely leaves the capital, except for special quests.”

The knight would not talk. He only pointed to his visor and shook his head slowly. Shah then looked at Fazeer waiting for an explanation.

“My chief, this is an exiled knight. He has taken an oath of silence and is not allowed to remove his helmet,” said Fazeer.

Shah looked at the knight with pity, and a deep sense of curiosity. She wondered what led to the man’s exile. What heinous act, and how many oaths led him to this solitary path, but more than anything, she saw an opportunity.

“Good knight, my clan saved you from the cruelty of the sands and recovered your body. As such, I feel that I can ask something of you,” said Shah with a warm smile.

The knight tilted his head slightly as he waited for the Chieftain’s question.

“Sir knight, have you heard of the Sand Dragon?” asked Shah.

The knight thought for a moment then shook his head. The clanking of steel made the tribe’s children giggle and point towards the knight’s visor.

“Long ago, a nightmare fell on these lands. A nightmare called Ghoul. We know nothing of his origin, nor his past. His parents are unknown and his lineage a mystery. Like a great shadow, he engulfed the peaceful tribes and spread death and decay. One by one the tribes fell, and now, only a few are left. One of those tribes is us, Sir knight,” said Shah.

The knight looked around and only saw injured men, widowed women, and orphaned children around him.

“Sir knight, Ghoul does not raid once. He raids and keeps some of us alive so he can extinguish the little hope that was rekindled. The last of his victims was my father, and I am afraid his next raid will be soon upon us.”

The knight knew what would be asked of him, so he stood up slowly and looked around to his next destination in the endless desert.

“Sir knight, we ask that you defend us. Your experience in battle and skill with sword is unmatched I am sure of it. Please, defend our tribe from this demon and save our children from…” Shah could not continue as the thought of what could happen to the children terrorized her.

All she got in return was the same reaction from the knight. He shook his head and walked outside the tent. The whole tribe followed him, beseeching him to stay. The children hugged his arms and the women wailed in dismay, as the only hope of survival vanished in a blink of an eye. However, as the knight marched on, he was suddenly hit with a rock.

“Go on, prove your lords of your dishonor, prove them that your exile is just. You deserve the shame bestowed upon you, and may every soul on this earth learn of your misdeed. May you forever walk the desert alone and forgotten, and when you die, may the dead shun and mock you in the underworld,” shouted Shah.

The warm and graceful Shah had the look of an angry chieftain who would do anything to save her tribe. That, however, meant nothing to the knight who marched on to his unknown destination, searching for nothing.

Part Three

The knight marched on in the empty dunes. His shame sat heavily on his shoulders. His back bent, he dragged his feet once more on the hellish sands, when suddenly he noticed something in the distance. He crept closer and noticed a peculiar sight. A bald man wearing a beautifully-adorned robe sat comfortably on a rock. He smoked an irregularly long pipe, and he huffed and puffed in an almost rhythmic way.

“I was expecting you,” said the mysterious man as he twirled his large moustache. “Gods, you are late though, how long must I smoke my pipe for you to show up, eh? I’m almost out of tobacco.”

The knight looked at the mysterious man with disbelief, as at this point, he was not sure if he was hallucinating because of the heat or simply entered another reality.

“Master Verenus at your service, but you can call me Verenus,” said the mysterious man as he inspected the knight’s armor. “Good, an exiled knight. I don’t like talkers in my adventures anyway. What have you done, I wonder? Was it lust, cowardice, desire, murder maybe? But don’t tell me, it will just ruin the fun.”

The knight noticed a water flask next to Verenus’s rock.

“Please, please, help yourself,” said Verenus. “I’ve only been waiting an eternity for someone to show up. What is a couple of seconds longer?”

The knight sat on the ground and drank as he looked away. He then threw the empty flask on the ground and looked at the endless horizon deep in thought. Verenus studied him, feeling the heavy load crushing his soul.

“I have a proposition for you,” Verenus said. That did not seem to interest the knight, as he had heard enough propositions for that day. Verenus seemed to panic, searching for a lure that could make the knight listen.

“I’ve got meat. All types of it. Venison, chicken, pork, anything your mouth desires. All you have to do is listen. I’ve got it hidden in a nearby cave.”

The knight stood still. He couldn’t remember the last time he had meat. The idea of eating had him mesmerized, and he could feel the saliva dripping down his chin.

“I’ve come here to slay a dragon,” said Verenus, looking at the knight further. “Have you heard of a person called Ghoul?

The knight twitched and looked at Verenus.

“Oh well, I see you have. Well, the man you see in front of you was one of many who tasted his wrath, but in my lands, he took the shape of a dreadful dragon. He covered the sky with his sooted wings and engulfed my homeland with flame,” said Verenus with anger in his voice. “He also killed my family. He killed all of them.”

At this moment, Verenus lost his whimsical presence, and his voice almost vanished. The knight inspected his eyes, and all he could see were those of a vengeful husband and father.

“I know it’s banned in these lands, but my homeland is known for magic usage. I myself am a wizard,” said Verenus proudly.

For the first time since he laid his eyes upon him, Verenus noticed the knight paid close attention to him, as if the mention of magic piqued his interest.

“My friend, it matters not how far and wide you travelled in your exile. Believe me, you did not wander the earth, searching for this monster as long as I did. Here, he takes the form of a demon called Ghoul. His origins are unknown, but it is said that he changes form depending on the time and fear of the lands he terrorizes.”

Verenus took a deep breath and looked at the sun. He raised his hand, as if trying to touch the sun with his palm. Suddenly, and to the knight’s amazement, Verenus was holding a fireball in his hand, and he was staring at it intensely. The humorous wizard now seemed like a battlemage, weaving magic to cripple his foes.

“This is where you come my friend. The gods know I can’t take his tribe out by myself. But, with my magic and your steel, I am sure we can put an end to the demon and his evil deeds,” said Verenus with a deep voice.

The wizard barely finished his sentence. The knight was already halfway up, ready to leave.

“Wait, wait!” shouted Verenus. “What is wrong, why wouldn’t you use your sword? Weren’t you a knight?”

The knight spread his arms, showing the wizard his state.

“Yes, I know you are exiled, and what this means is that you have no duty to do? This means you ought not to act as virtue demands,” asked the wizard, but the knight was on his way.

That did not stop Verenus, however, as he followed the only hope he had to avenge his kin.

“You are not a knight because some high lord gave you this title, and you are not an exiled knight because that same lord decided to take that title away from you,” said Verenus as he kept up with the knight. “You are a knight because of the oaths you took. Because you promised yourself to act in accordance with virtue.”

The knight started to speed up, and his walking was turning into a forceful march.

“Only the gods know what these high lords have done in hiding. Look at you, you are exiled and you still hold an oath of silence. You are ashamed and that is your evidence of your goodness. Say something, gods damn it,” shouted Verenus as he pulled the knight’s arm.

“No one can tell you what you are, my friend. Only you can decide what you truly are. Not by titles and gold. Not by the applause of an audience, but by what you do when you expect nothing in return. You think you were a knight? With your shining armor and your castle? I say you were an image of something you know nothing of.”

Suddenly the knight turned around and looked at the wizard with a wrathful, penetrating gaze. Verenus could not see much behind his helmet, but he could feel the smoking fire coming out of his armor. He then gently laid his arm on the knight’s shoulder.

“Listen, I don’t care what you did. It might be too much for anyone to forgive, but you owe it to yourself to prove those people otherwise. It matters not who sees it. It only matters that you forgive yourself my dear friend. Forgive yourself, and lay down the crushing weight on your shoulders. If you are to die, then so be it. You would have at least died honorably, and as a knight. That is much more than anyone of those bastards in their high castles could ever wish for.”

The knight took a moment to contemplate. He then looked at Verenus and pointed toward his stomach.

“Oh, about that meat. Well…”

Part Four

Shah and her people hid behind the little fortifications and defenses her tribe could stage. All the men and women held makeshift spears, waiting for the doom to fall on them, while their children hid in their tents. No word was said, and no songs of motivation were sung, for they were naught but prey waiting for the lion to swallow them whole. Suddenly they heard evil laughter in the distance. The laughter then turned into howling of wolves and drums of war.

Out of the darkness, they saw them: Ghoul’s men gazing upon the tribe with hunger and lust in their eyes. They chanted and danced as they mocked the tribe’s men and taunted their women. In the midst of the evil ritual emerged the demon on his horse, his armor adorned with prizes. The demon held his scimitar high, and, with a downward blow, Ghoul’s men fell upon the tribesmen.

Shah could see nothing but blood and gore as her tribesmen were slain one after the other. Fire was set to the tents and their goods were stolen. She tried to fend away the raiders with her people, but the hunger of the demonspawn overwhelmed them. Thorak, Ghoul’s right-hand man stood in front of Shah and pointed his sword towards her.

“Oh, Ghoul would love to have your head on a spike, just like your father. Maybe he’ll put the spike next to your father’s one, eh?” mocked Thorak as his followers laughed with him.

In the midst of chaos and screams, Shah roared like the warriors of her lineage and charged towards Thorak with her spear, but Thorak quickly sidestepped and tripped the chieftain to the ground.

“You’re a feisty one, eh? Good, that is how Ghoul likes them,” said Thorak as he reached out to Shah.

The chieftain took out her dagger, ready to end her own life, when she felt blood splash on her face. She opened her eyes and stared in amazement as she saw a mighty longsword halfway through the demon-spawn’s neck.

The exiled knight stood mighty and tall. His old armor shone as the stars reflected on its steel, his shoulders like mountains. He then raised his sword high. It stood gloriously, like in the stories she heard when she was a child. He weaved his sword like thread as he cut down his enemies one by one. He parried and blocked all who approached him. He changed stances like a dancer, switching between high and low guard like the master he always was, overwhelming his enemies with glory and steel.

Suddenly, the exiled knight found himself surrounded by more men than he could handle. To everyone’s shock, however, the ground under them started to shake, and Ghoul’s men fell one by one as the sands swallowed them whole. In the distance, Verenus danced and prayed to his gods as he laid down his magical spells on the raiders. A flurry of fire and ice were thrown at them as they flew for their lives. Ghoul noticed the sorcerer and charged at him with his vile horse. Verenus had been able to take down Ghoul’s men with thunderbolts, but Ghoul was too fast for him. Ghoul jumped off his horse and landed on the wizard. Verenus tried to push him off, but the demon was too strong for him.

“I never forget a smell,” growled Ghoul, breathing onto Verenus’ neck. “Did I burn your family to a crisp? Oh, I did, didn’t I? Your son especially roasted beautifully. Tell them that I send my regards.”

Verenus let out a cry as Ghoul thrust his sword in the wizard’s chest.

Ghoul then looked to the raiding party and noticed a man in silver laying waste to his men. He got back on his horse and charged to the battlefield, growling and roaring as he sliced any man or woman in his way until he reached the knight. He got off his horse and stood in front of the knight with his men. He then looked at the dead bodies and noticed Thorak dead. He let out a bellowing laugh.

“You managed to kill my mule. Good. Oh, how have I yearned for an equal match? What is your name? You who have caused all this distress to Ghoul’s tribe?

The knight said nothing in return, as Shah and whoever was left of her tribe hid behind him.

“An exiled knight, eh? Was that your friend up there? Do you know what I did to him? I carved out his chest and ate his heart,” said Ghoul as he pointed at his rotten teeth and let his blood red tongue out. “Do you know what I will do to you? I won’t kill you, no, I will keep a little bit of your soul alive so I can play with your corpse as I please. You think you are a knight? You are exiled scum, spat out from his kingdom by his own family. If I kill you, I will also eat all those dogs standing behind you.”

The knight suddenly fell small. Ghoul stood like a giant, his evil overwhelming. The men standing behind him smiled in mockery as they readied their teeth for their meal. Ghoul stood straight and confident, and the knight seemed to back down. For an instant, he thought of fleeing for his life, when suddenly he felt something. He looked behind him and noticed the tribe’s children holding his cape, standing right behind him for protection. He remembered an oath he once took, but most importantly of all, he remembered his honor, and maybe, for the first time in his life, he stood proud and straight in front of death itself. To everyone’s shock, the knight said something behind his helmet.

“What did you say, little pretend knight?” asked Ghoul.

“If,” said the knight.

“If what?” asked Ghoul.

“If you kill me. But you won’t,” said the knight in a deep voice.

For the first time in his unknown existence, Ghoul felt beaten. Not with swords but by words. He snored and growled as he withdrew his sword.

“So be it, exile. Come and meet your end.”

Both man and demon charged each other as their swords clashed in a hurricane of steel and sparks. They fought endlessly for what seemed an eternity, as both Shah’s tribe and Ghoul’s men watched closely. Ghoul was too quick for the knight as he dodged most of his attacks. Exhaustion was getting to the armored knight as he slowed down. In a flurry of attacks, Ghoul was able to slice the openings of the armor, and the knight fell down to his knees in agony.

“I am Ghoul, son of Gorak!” shouted Ghoul as his men chanted behind him, and he licked his lips. He looked more demon than human, his beard reeking of death. “How dare you face me, nameless one, eh? I will cut you limb from limb and eat each part on a different day.”

The knight tried to use whatever was left of his power to stand up but was unable to. To Ghoul’s surprise, however, Shah and her tribe helped him to his feet.

“Oh, how sweet,” laughed Ghoul.

The knight was ready to make his last hopeless charge when, out of nowhere, he felt a certain force in his sword. He looked in the distance and saw Verenus lying down with his hand reaching out to him. To everyone’s amazement, the knight’s sword was now imbued with flame.

Ghoul looked with shock as the knight stood proudly with his fiery sword. The knight charged with full force towards Ghoul. He ignored every slash the demon landed as he grabbed the demon by his ugly hair and thrusted his flaming sword in his mouth. Ghoul choked and struggled as his monstrous force vanished forever. His men, fearing for their lives, ran away like mice.

The knight finally pulled his sword out and fell on his back. He felt death slowly approaching as every significant moment in his life passed by his eyes. Shah and her people all came to the knight and knelt next to him, each one laying their hands on his dying body.

“Sir knight, you have restored your honor,” Shah whispered.

The knight then smiled and closed his eyes forever, for, at that moment, he knew he had restored his knighthood.