Knights of the Rueful Countenance
Don Quixote died and was hardly mourned by anyone. His grave became overgrown until it disappeared over the years. Nowadays, his very few followers keep spreading his Word. They are dispersed amid the various classes of the social pyramid (although, to be more exact, they usually belong to the lower stratifications), and can be found in every corner of the world.
I once met one of them very far away from my homeland. He saw in me signs of audacity, genuineness and pure intentions, which is why he imprudently asked me to become his squire. What was I thinking when I said ‘yes’? We both got into a vicious circle of perpetual quests. Besides, the abundant illusions and prejudice of our times favour misconception. So, while we believed to be devoting ourselves to bravery and eradicating all evil of humanity, we ended up wearing ourselves out by vague circular motions, vain strikes, vacillating steps and inarticulate cries. The only good thing this adventure brought us was that each delirium made the children gather around and stare at us in awe, as if they were watching a nice theatrical play.