“Of the numerous knight orders that exist in The Castrum, The Principalities are by far the oldest. They practice the fundamentals of the Flowing Vanguard style, an ancient technique that focuses on blinding speed and swift maneuverability, which forms the basis for many other styles that exist today. The knights of the order prefer to use dual weapons such as long swords, curved blades, twin maces, and daggers in order to take advantage of the technique’s phantom-like footwork. Many Seraph today still use the Flowing Vanguard technique due to its freedom amidst aerial combat, and no one displays true mastery over the technique more than Lorelai, the Throne of Heaven.”

Chapter 2 of The Knight Orders: Finding Your Perfect Match

———

The Knight

Morning breaks as the smoldering sun rises high above the sky, and Aegis is attempting to recreate wings again when a small knock taps on the door outside of The Knight’s room.

“Come in!” The Knight replies, closing a worn-out book. Lorelai’s room is filled to the brim with all manners of literature, many detailing the history of the kingdom while others are more modern in nature. The Throne gathered writings from all around the continent, creating a miniature library solely for her.

Dariel enters the room carrying a newly-forged set of armor. Unlike the standard issue plates given to regular soldiers, the set is covered in shining gold, just like The Knight’s current hair, and the design matches the armor it saw on the corpse of Lorelai back at the forest. The armor is infused with multiple defensive sorceries and enchantments, so much so that it appears to be buzzing and vibrating in place, unable to fully contain the energy inside.

“I’ve brought you a new model of the armor you used to use, courtesy of Annalay’s salary.” Dariel beams. “It’s forged with the sturdiest materials we have and enchanted by our top magi.”

“It’s beautiful,” The Knight whispers. “I hope Annalay didn’t suffer too much for my sake.”

“Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine, although she’ll have to refrain from going out to the tavern for a while.”

A sad, knowing look shadows Dariel’s face as he reminisces of the past.

“We tried to get you to upgrade your armor before, but you refused, saying that it was a precious memento from your inauguration as Throne. Ascalon was constantly worried about you because of that, and the recent events have made him a bit…overprotective, to put it kindly.”

Dariel smacks his cheeks, banishing the depression away.

“But mulling over old memories won’t get us anywhere. Try your new armor on and meet me by the throne room. The entire court is an uproar ever since hearing about your survival, and they’re eager to see your face. Even Sarathiel came rushing back from the front lines!”

The Knight tilts its head at the name. Although he is mentioned amongst the soirée of books, the information about the Throne of Steel is meager in content, only mentioning his duties as a guardian near the Augurium border.

“I don’t remember much about Sarathiel. What is he like?”

“He’s a bit…well, you’ll see. Just remember to brace yourself once we go through the doors.”

With that last ominous bit out of the way, Dariel leaves and The Knight turns towards Aegis.

“There’ll be too many people within the room, Aegis, so you’ll have to stay here until I come back. Continue practicing and make sure to stay hidden if anyone comes in.”

Aegis sputters a confirming gurgle and continues his training. It's not going well, and his tiny fist hits the pillow upset at the lack of progress, tuckering himself out from the frustration.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The Knight chuckles and puts on the armor, absorbing the energy from the numerous enchantments within and stabilizing it. It’s a shame that the armor will have to be abandoned eventually, but The Knight will make good use of it before the time comes.

Finally, it is time to meet the rest of the court.

The Knight makes their way towards the throne room, examining the structures and numerous pathways along the way. The interior of the castle is decorated in various shades of blue and white, and a vast ceiling opens up above the floor. Paintings of Kings and Thrones past dot the walls, a couple of which it recognizes. Multiple Polus knights and officials scurry along the busy halls, but let out a cry of relief upon seeing the visage of their beloved Throne. It smiles and waves, comforting those it comes across.

Eventually, The Knight spots Dariel and meets up with him, making idle chatter while the two make their way towards the grand entrance to the throne room. Two massive slabs of mahogany stand tall before them, the Polus insignia embedded in the middle.

The Knight pushes the doors wide open. Numerous important officials and captains sprawl across the room, talking with each other and expressing feelings of doubt about Lorelai’s return. Memory loss? That feels too convenient of an excuse. What if it’s a Caelum spy masquerading as her? But can such an imposter really fool the eyes of The King? These thoughts run rampant amongst the court, but their doubts immediately dissipate upon seeing The Knight. The entire room freezes, completely silent, before erupting into a vigorous cheer. King Ascalon remains on the throne, giving The Knight a knowing nod and allows the others to have their moment of joy.

A titanic steel clad figure barrels towards The Knight, his helm adorned with wings that flow down beside him while two gigantic pauldrons rests on his shoulders, his massive cuirass shadowing all who come close. The sound of his massive steps causes the entire room to tremble, and he traps The Knight in a gigantic bear hug that would have pulverized its bones if not for the armor.

“How could you scare us like that Lorelai!” the titan loudly exclaims, his voice surprisingly soft and young compared to his appearance. “I don’t want to admit it, but I lost all hope when I felt our connection sever.”

The Knight lets out a loud gasp and slowly pulls the titan away from them.

“Haha, your strength remains the same as well! Why don’t we head towards the courtyard and have a quick spar? I’m sure swinging your blades will have you back to your old self in no time!”

“Sarathiel, Lorelai already had a very intimate spar with Annalay earlier,” Ascalon scolds. A dangerous look flashes across his eyes before subsiding back into the loving King the nation adores.

“Ah, that’s my bad. Sorry Lorelai, I’m just really, really happy to see you back.”

“Oh no, I appreciate your enthusiasm Sarathiel. I really do,” The Knight says, recovering from the sudden attack. “But it is a bit awkward to be treated with such familiarity when I’m…in my current state.”

A grim aura envelopes the titan as his cheery demeanor quickly diminishes from sight, replaced by an awkward silence.

“I…forgot about that. D-do you really not remember me at all?”

The Knight slowly shakes its head and Sarathiel glances down like a sad puppy. He stays still for a moment before perking back up into his energetic self.

“Well, I guess that means I’ll just have to reintroduce myself!”

Sarathiel takes a step back and pauses in a dramatic manner before turning to his side and posing with a theatrical flourish, one arm raised and the other flexing with his chest muscles.

“Sarathiel, the Throne of Steel, at your service!” he roars, switching between different poses all the while. “The Crazed Berserker, The Savage Marauder, The Steel-Clad Titan! Yes, those are all titles befitting my glorious visage! I may be the youngest of The Thrones, but my power makes up for my budding experience! Let me loose out on the battlefield and witness as the land turns into a crimson sea of fury!”

The display would have been an impressive showcase of his build if not for the fact that his muscles are hidden behind his armor. Still, he looks quite proud standing there, and The Knight doesn’t want to intrude upon his moment. Some of the members of the court gaze at his figure with apathy while others look quite embarrassed at the informal display.

Ascalon’s eyes glaze over and he pretends not to see the idiotic Throne before him. “Yes, very good Sarathiel. Now sit down.”

“Ah, at your command.”

Sarathiel obediently sits down upon his seat like a small puppy. Ascalon sighs and gives a little wave of his hand.

“While I would rather Lorelai not strain herself with combat at the moment, there is some merit in having her explore the capital. Why don’t you bring her to The Principalities? Seeing her old training ground might help in recovering her memories.”

Sarathiel brightens and leaps up from his seat. “Oh, that’s a great idea!”

He leans in close to The Knight and whispers into its ear, his actions clearly noticeable by everyone else in the room.

“The Principalities also have an arena that we can use. Ascalon’s just a bit sensitive right now since he was in bad shape when you disappeared.”

“I understand his fear,” The Knight whispers back. “But, I do feel like letting loose for a bit. Now that I’ve slept, I can feel my sword techniques coming back, and having a spar may help me regain my senses.”

“Bloodthirsty as ever.” Sarathiel grins. “Ascalon, I’ll escort Lorelai to The Principalities. Do what you need to do with those old bureaucrats, and we’ll come back once the sun sets!”

“Very well,” he mutters, exhausted. “We’ll talk more once the two of you come back.”

“Duly noted.”

The Knight and Sarathiel exit the throne room, leaving Ascalon with the rest of the officials.

“Now,” The King commands. Venom coats his words and a smoldering flame within his eyes darkens his expression. “We shall prepare for our invasion against The Nox.”