Feels like we are right on track for one of those fantasy fiction stories where civilization collapses back into a feudal age and the tiny isolated spots of technology are considered magic Like John Christopher's "Sword of Spirits" or Wolfe's "Book of the New Sun" or... +
That’s some excellent (like everything else you write) dark humor.
Henryk and Chas struggled up the switchback. The path was flat and smooth, with the occasional tiny windblown stone and thin seams here and there, unlike the rough, cobbled streets of their home. Much of the surface was an uncanny uniform gray. +
The path would've been an easy one for the two knights, had they not been carrying their wounded companion between them. Jace groaned occasionally, his hands draped over his companions' shoulders, as they dragged him up the uncanny path. A day ago he had been conscious, but delirious. Now... +
... the young knight was barely present, his eyes closed, his legs limp, as his friends hauled him toward the domicile at the top of the switchback. The domicile that loomed before them hardly seemed a wizard's manse. Its peaked roof had shingles of a strange, black, glassy material. +
The front door was made all of a heavy wood, not the scavenged remnants used in Henryk and Chas's home at the Excalibur Castle Trailer Park. (Henryk once asked what the "trailer" referred to, and his father told him it was because knights spent so much time on the trail, then cuffed him.) +
"I still think this is a mistake," said Chas as he hefted Jace and helped hold him up while leaning against the smooth front wall of the domicile, painted with some kind of deep green color. "We should not be asking this old wizard for help." Henryk shrugged. "You'd rather that Jace die." +
"Yes," said Chas firmly. "At least he would die a virtuous man, not indebted to this wizard, this... liberal." Henryk sighed. "The burden is on me. I have decided, and I will pay the cost." He knocked on the door with his gauntleted fist. The booming echoed beyond. +
A strange, tinny voice spoke out of the air. "What do you want?" it called out. Chas tensed, while Henryk looked around but couldn't find anyone, only a small grill on one side. "Hello? We are knights of Excalibur Castle. My friend is wounded. We need your help," he called out to the air. +
There was a lengthy pause, then the clunking sound of a heavy latch. "Enter," said the voice cryptically. Henryk looked up and down at the heavy door, then pushed it hard. To his amazement, it opened smoothly and easily. He moved to aid Chas in carrying Jace once more and stepped inside. +
The interior of the domicile was unlike any place he'd seen. Soft light emanated from thin staves placed in corners, and the entirety of the floor seemed to be one giant woven rug that stretched wall to wall. Sitting furniture was covered in fine colored fabrics, whole and unstained. +
The air seemed... unnatural. There was no scent of sweat, or dogs, or hard labor or sex. Nor the festering rot of a decrepit domicile where the owner had died, or the blood of battle. Merely the faint smell of fresh-baked bread and... flowers? +