it's a never-ending cycle, is it not?

"TRAVELLER! I POSSESS WHAT YOU SEEK!" a lone torn knight shouts while posing on top of the wrecked castle.
"who are you?" I ask in confusion, and horror. the question was soaked in doubt. how could it be?
"I am, the last standing seeder," he says as pride was beating through each word.
the myth? the legend is true? the lone seeder is... here?
"I'm afraid I don't believe you, strange-" my words get interrupted.
he raises a hand and points to his item, the possession.
gods, goddesses, and angels, the legends are true.
"BLESS BE THY LONE SEEDER!" I shout. first over heart. the words fly out of my mouth almost unwantedly.