Foreword: One book was confiscated for research purposes. It is heavily corrupted, with the sudden mentioning of a name rendering the text's original genre even more unclear. Contents are presented below. Footnotes were manually added.
There once was a fair knight who had seen all the mountains and valleys in these lands. All the world adored his gracefulness and venerability. He wore gowns most magnificent and kept his heart pounding for all good folk. In spite of all this glory, he desired no prostitutes, for they solely yearned for natural urges. One day, mistletoe hang above him and her, a poor but well-behaved lady from far away, who adored her husband for his wits. And so, for the first time in his life, the velvet embracing them felt soft and not hard. A boy saw the light of day, yet a cloudy sky formed above the trio in the midst of the boy's sixteenth year. In disrespect towards his father whose glory was well-deserved after years of labor, the boy became indolent, even stealing from folks for lack of riches. The punches he got by his father he plainly ignored, for there has never been any love between them, only rivalry. All this spiritual blood led the boy down the forbidden path of abandonment, to where he is anywhere but home. And behind him, no one will ever wait for his return.
The boy crossed mushroom-filled forests, mountains, and lakes, always in the company of nature whom he told his story. Birds spread word to the people, surfacing rumors and ridicule towards his former family, who withdrew from society as a result. Eventually, the boy stumbled upon a carriage drawn by two hacks and occupied by a man in black robes. Pulling out a dagger, the boy threatened the hooded figure with murder, provided he wouldn't get hold of his possessions. "Foolish boy" — the man replied — "you will starve before my hands will draw my sword." Defeated and humble, the boy's hand got lose of the dagger, followed by its holder collapsing in fatigue. He awoke inside a comfy bed next to a tray with food and water. His eating sounds must have drawn attention, as the man from earlier entered the room and sat down on a chair at the bed's end. "Who are you?", those were the first words the boy could think of. "I am Sir Fron Mourn, crown of the kingdom thou reside. The birds told me of thine demise and bravery wasted by a corrupted society. And seeing such a warrior collapsing in front of me, I could not resist to salvage thine potential." The boy felt slightly overwhelmed by the compliments his vis-à-vis mouthed, saying "If your a king, then where is your precious gown?" In a short laugh, Fron answered "Who are more worth? Those whose love dwindles in visible splendor or those who keep their fire burning inside for others to warm at?" These words made the boy ponder about his past decisions the whole day. And so, the first night passed by around his new shelter.
After a night of evaluating, a decision was made by the boy. He will stay aside this mysterious man, for the latter saved him from near death. He was greeted by Fron at the breakfast table, who started the conversation with the words "Now, are you able to answer my question?" Without any hesitation, the boy replied "Yes, I shall follow thee", which painted a smile on Fron's face. "Then time must not be wasted. You may now refer to me as your father and teacher. I shall teach you the ways of war and wizardry, thereby empowering you to take revenge on all who did you harm." This laid the grounds for a dangerous development, which was destined to reach its peak after years of training with weapons, magic, and potion brewing. Having matured now, Karot — his new name bestowed unto him by his master — has become a respectful and quite feared black knight, who drew his power from his emotional turmoil still echoing between every ear. Kingdoms fell or their kings overthrown and replaced with his Sir Mourn's iron fist. The birds, awfully frightened, sang sad ballads about the wars waged, of never-before-seen black magic, and the heroes who lost their lives. These melancholic sounds were even heard at Karot's former home, but his father had no notion of his enemy's true identity and prepared for the upcoming war.
At the balcony, the father watches the horizon becoming darker in color. Realizing the time has come, he ordered his troops to hold their weapons, mere bows and swords, at the stop. A bugle announced a huge shape to appear above the uprising troops, which turned out to be a dark-red dragon spouting huge beams of fire. As it flew over the kingdom, screams ultimately pierced the silence and blood of brave brothers dropped at the balcony from above. The father's panicked fleeing attempt was halted by a tall man in black armor splintering the pathetic wooden door. Both drew their swords and erupted into a fight not less meaningful than the one destroying their surroundings. No one could get the upper hand in this fight of two men on a par, but eventually Karot managed to kick his opponent between the crotch, forcing the father to kneel down. Accepting his defeat, the father was prepared to meet his maker and enter Heaven's paradise, but no final strike ever came. Instead, Karot put his sword back into its sheath and then removed his helmet. "Do you remember me?", he asked. "Perhaps not, but I remember you. You, whose methods of parenting were more akin to the lash than a reaching hand. Yes, its is me, Karot, your disenchanted son." The facial features of his father formed a face of fear and fury, but prominently displaced the utter disbelieve of its counterpart's identity. "No, he would never even dare to take lives. He was a foolish fellow, sure, but still one of humanity. You merely use him to corrupt my mind." This theory was disproved by the fist impacting his left cheek. "You constantly wanted me to be your reflection, immaculate and never-failing. As I now ponder your predictions, they might have come true. But fear not, I have no intentions in murdering you. No, only occupying your place at the throne, so I can rule over my new kingdom. Surrender now and prevent more blood from running without purpose!" His father ordered his men to lay down their weapons and surrender, whereafter he was taken to the dungeon and imprisoned. Since then, Karot and Sir. Mourn rule over all lands. Will there ever be a hero to avenge all deaths and bring peace to this plane?
Afterword: There were three additional pages that, however, only featured sprinklers of a fluid consisting of ink and human blood. It is assumed that the effects of SCP-8330 still prevail because of the story missing an ending.
