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I opened my eyes, taking a moment to gaze at the canopy of the bed as my mind slowly began to stir into wakefulness. Today was our birthday, and tomorrow we will be heading off to our military departments... hard to believe. Standing, I stretched my arms above my head, and scratched an itch on the back of my head. Walking to the wash basin, my sapphire eyes reflected the dim light from my golden hair.
Washing off with the cold water, my thoughts wandered to my sister... I knew she would be skipping the party today, and I couldn't blame her. The alchemist only arrived to make her a potion yesterday, so she couldn't make the funeral for Bulwark... She raised him from a small pup about five years ago, and the two had been nearly inseperable since then... so I can understand how she feels to a small degree, even if I wasn't able to see the aura of sadness surrounding her...
When I had to tell her about Bulwarks death... I just...
Forcibly ending the thought, so I wasn't stuck in sorrow for the next several hours, I turned to get my new uniform on, a pure white suit with the sigil of the paladin order on the left breast. Seeming a tasteful cross between priest raments, and military dress uniform. The sigil itself was a sword set to resemble the cross of our father, set in gold, with bronze detailing, and a blue background. I honestly didn't like how detailed it was, as it seemed a bit heavily detailed.
Once I was dressed up, I grabbed the service sword they sent with it, rather plain when compared to their sigil, but it went better with the uniform as a whole. It felt a bit light, so I drew it to examine the blade, noticing the coloration, it seemed that the sword was a steel edge with a titanium body, and it felt like the titanium made up the majority of the weapon. Curious, I drew my thumb across the edge, feeling the sharpness on my nail, finding nothing but a razors edge, and a smooth surface.
While the lack of weight will take away from the cutting power, it would make weilding it easier than it already was, and a sharp enough edge will mitigate for the weight issue. I mean, this sword was very light, at I would guess three lodestones. A masterwork of a sword really.
I hooked it to my belt, and made my way out into the hall, finding Morris coming with breakfast.
"Good morning Morris", I smile at him, earning a grin in return.
"Azrael, your up early"
"Figured I would see Kara off before she left"
"Oh, Mara told me she left for the docks before dawn"
"Huh... well, I suppose I will head back in for breakfast... What is it?"
"Today, Daniel has prepared some corned beef, with a light salad, and a side of oatmeal"
"Sounds great, send it to the dinning room will you"
After a nod of confirmation, Morris walks off, myself heading for the room in question. Our parents were well aware of my tendency to use this room, and sometimes join me here for some breakfast conversation. Kara dosen't seem to enjoy these times, despite being an early riser, she has never been much of a morning person before she eats.
I entered through the plain oak doors, boasting only a decorative carving displaying the last supper from scripture. I always thought it was a rather ironic scene to display just before the main dinning room. Pushing the doors free swinging doors open, I saw mother and father already sitting down to eat. Father was dressed rather plainly today, but I supposed that was to be expected since he wouldn't be the host today. Mother on the otherhand was strangely ornate, with her hair done up in a fashion to make her golden hair seem almost like a hood, bits of bronze and brass were visible from the lips she used. This wasn't even mentioning the dress, which looked more like a robe I had often seen her father wear on his visits every few years.
"Azrael, good morning son", father said, beckoning me to sit on his left, mother taking up his right.
"Morning father, morning mother", smiling, I took my seat, the plates being brought out as if on cue.
"My, this smells delightful", mother smiled, eyeing the corned beef.
"It is to be expected of Daniel by now, wouldn't you say son?"
"Yes father, Daniel has always strived to go above and beyond with his meals, hasn't he?", we folded our hands before us, silence overtaking the room as even the staff ceased their movement for prayer.
Father was the first to drop his hands, and take a bite, followed by mother, and then myself. By the father, I'm already getting tired of this "high common" that has gained popularity with the outside nations. The beef was tender, sweet, and succulent, perfecly cooked as always.
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"So, Azrael when is the orientation?", father asked, setting his utensils down for a small meal time chat, the drinks arriving at his call.
"Should be soon after the noon time meal father, meaning I'm afraid I won't be able to make luncheon", I took a sip of my cocoa coffee.
"Thats a shame, you will miss your sisters party", apparently Kara failed to tell our parents of her plans.
"Kara said she wished to spend the day by Bulwarks grave"
"Is that so?", she seemed dissapointed to hear this, but evidently understood, as she said nothing more on the subject.
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I spent the rest of the time in the library, looking into the many known artifacts. It was my dream to find a few of them myself, so I spent my time in the library trying to puzzle out where they might be. Though I still had no idea on any of them.
Currently I was reading up on the Talon Blade, a sword crafted from the claw of the draconic benefactor of our culture. It is the most sought after artifact of our history, and is supposedly the weapon admiralty swords were modeled after. Described as a long, curved, single edge blade, the tip characterised by a hooked tip and a false edge, producing a form similar to a harpoon. A handle of wyvern leather and wrapped in Lunar Mega Moth silk. Being a weapon utilizing the claw of the strongest of creatures, any armor, or defence is said to be rendered useless against it.
However, it was stolen from an early temple when our people were still predominantly found in the south, between the first year, and second millennium. Records from back then are spotty, with much either not being recorded, or lost to decay or fire. Supposedly it was found some time in the sixth millennium, but these accounts haven't been proven by supplimental accounts.
Morris walked over, tapping my shoulder.
"Azrael, it's almost time."
Nodding, I returned the book to its place, and made my way to the cathedral, to prepare for the ceremony before the orientation, in the monastic facilities underground. Donning the squire armor they handed me, I take my place before the pulpit, down on both knees, sitting straight, facing the large cross. Morris took my sword, placing it onto the pulpit.
I'm to sit here motionless as everyone files in, and then place my forehead onto the floor as the head priest, and father enter the cathedral. If this was Kara, mother would be here in place of father. For my knighting after I complete training, the head of the Paladins would also be here.
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As the last of the attendees sat in the pews, the massive organ began to play, the choir singing in a wordless chorus, their voices echoing off the stone walls. This exact piece was called "In his service", though I wasn't aware it had a singing component... thinking about it, that's likely why they arn't singing the words. As the song ends, the doors beside the cross of david open up, and the choir begins a simple, soft hyme to welcome the head priest, his white robes, and purple vestment over his shoulders. He held a golden staff which represented our culture, doubling as a defensive weapon.
I didn't catch much past this, as my head touched the polished stone. I waited silently, the head priest begining to site scripture to begin the ceremony. From the blessings the father has given us, to the known memoirs of our ancestors arrival, to remind us of how far we have come. All this time, I'm looking down at the transparent floor, directly into the eyes of the fallen Lucifer as he is depicted plummeting to the black inferno.
Finally, as my father says my name, I raise my head, looking him in the eye.
"Azrael, do you swear to uphold what the people ask of you? Do you swear your service for the betterment of our people?" Unlike his usual soft gaze, now his eyes are like iron, as if gazing into my soul.
"I, Azrael Aventus, swear to give all of my effort, every last drop which lay within my veins, in service to the people, and to uphold the teachings of our wise father."
There is a period of silence, meerly ceremonial for now, before the head priest acknowledges my vow of service. Now allowed to stand, another organ song echoes off the stones of the cathedral, the priest bringing my sword down to me.
"Use this blade in the service of the good, and the just. Do not shame it with sinful acts" I accepted it from him, and bowed.
Murmurs filled the room, mostly just people discussing how they expected this to happen. With the boring stuff done with, the ceremony moved on to the meal prepared for the occasion. The pews were moved so that several long tables now occupied the room, raised from the floor under the pews. This was a plain meal of wine, bread, and soup, but nobody came for the food. Today was also the day when I'm supposed to decide apon a fiancée, not that I couldn't choose later or anything, but tradition called for me to choose today. Screw that.
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After the meal, I'm led downstairs through a winding path, farther down then I'm usually allowed. The halls held a silent echo one can only find deep underground, seeming incorporeal as readily as corporeal, looming over me and my guide. More then once, I noticed auras detached from anything as far as I could tell, where normally that was impossible, since an aura was borne of the radiant energy of a soul, something had to be within the center of any aura. But again and again I say auras attached to nothing.
Finally, we came to a metal door, obviously different from the storage rooms, and barracks found farther up. As the door was opened, the sounds of activity broke the oppressive echoing silence. The darkness was parted as magical light glowed from the doorway, within was what appeared to be a craft shop, with dwarven smitheries, and elven tailories. It was quite the deafening difference.
I was led past these craftsmen, to another quiet section, but this one was the monastery, the entrance being a grand starway down into a room with towering arches of a much humbler design to those found in the cathedral above. Here the only decorations were different colored stones in tasteful locations, such as the floor being patterns of polished marble and obsidian, or the walls depicting images in brimstone against the granite walls. Between the arches on either side, monks sat in meditation, prayer, and study, their brown robes being their only garb.
From the front, a woman stood in a nun uniform, waiting. It was Paladyne Martha Crosse, head of the paladin order, waiting to greet me.
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