The boy that was more man than boy looked around the ceremonial room. Seven years passed of intense training. The visit of his parents was a gift to be earned by exemplar results. This time here was between horrible to worthwhile. Everyone here disliked him, almost all nobles, or didn’t want to mix with royalty, that being the children of merchants, military and common people.
When his father said of how nobility was a hassle, he finally got proof of it. Intrigues were commonplace here. Who would guess that a place of training and betterment would have so many disputes and social shenanigans?! In the first year his innocence was already lost, many times he was fooled, and the punishment was harsh, from extra hours of training to manual labor, but the worse is sometimes hearing people saying bad things of his family, his bad performance a fuel to it. It didn’t take long for him to learn how it worked, and his better way of dealing with it is by being alone and focused only on his training, when he could, that is.
For the team part, there was a girl called Azira a noble daughter of a Duke, one of the top recruits of his year, she kept bringing him to her team, that was obvious some ploy to use his royalty for something, he guessed. As the whole thing could be seen as having some sort of social significance, he choose to accept, at least he would have fewer problems acclimatizing to only a team.
As time passed, he started to grow attached to them, specially Azira, but their relationship got problematic as the Duke Ferdinand, Azira’s father made some strange inquiries and suggestions about him, his father, the king, said that he could get him some time, but his power and relationship with the council was fragile, there is only so much he could do.
That fueled his desire to improve, he still tried to still be friends with her, but now he saw her as a rival, the only thing he could do to improve his dependency is acquiring power, he hadn’t a silver tongue, neither had a good way in socializing, raw power was his only choice.
The results were obvious, now being the first to enter the ceremony, his abilities and power surpassing of Azira, but she didn’t slow down, she was the 2nd best of the graduates, if he wanted to make a statement for her and her father, would be after becoming his father squire, but by what he heard the Duke was one of the most powerful man in the kingdom, the future would be arduous.
But that will have to wait, entering the enormous ceremony room, a giant blaze of fire was in the center, the color ever changing, sometimes mixing, like there was a tornado in the middle of it mixing the colors, by what he heard the fire was directly connected to the lines, the rest would be explained after the ritual. The flame was mesmerizing; the color influenced the marble floor and walls, like they were part of it, giving an ethereal feeling. In the walls, engravings showed knights in battle. The king above them all, their commander, could be seen by the addendum of a side cape. It was common belief that capes were, most of the time, a bad choice for someone to use during battles. These capes, though, were enchanted and of superior quality, their benefit surpassing the hassle of using them in battle, they became a sort of symbol of achieving the rank of captain in ancient times, nowadays it was easy to make magic items, but the tradition was kept.
Talking about knights, hundreds of them could be seen in the gigantic room, all them the knights that weren’t in battles or urgent matters. Some of them, though, demanded to be present. His father was in the center, just in front of the flame. At his left side were the general, various nobles and council members, some of them in full armor and regalia, at his right was the Queen his mother, and as his memory flows, the knights he saw as a kid, one of them was absent, his helmet being held by the enormous knight, that later he got to know was Percival, his size betrayed what his true weapon was, how or why he used a rapier and a small shield by being of that size instead of a war hammer or great sword was anyone guesses, the other two knights were—
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“To all gathered here we present ****, for his first step in knighthood, first time blazing the symbol of honor in his chest, first time encumbering his shoulders with the kingdom and its subjects. Being the honor student of the graduates of this year, and showing the quality of the students, we add to the kingdom's power.”
“**** come, enter the fragmental Flame of Camelot. Here your sins will burn, and your good deeds and qualities will be forged in your body”, the bald man, General Julius, said showing a sincere smile, a great change from his natural grin.
His father was silent until he reached the flames, the flames licking the boy's skin, not burning but energizing his body. Duty, and honor to the customs, made the king being impartial and serious.
“Enter and feel the ardor of part of the Celtic Flame, that guides all the galaxy kingdoms, our being one of them, let the all our kingdom subjects sees the first step of your prince!”, some knights go near the flame, from their spatial treasures they remove magical orbs, resembling eyes, technology and magic merged, being both used in wars or in the most common uses, this one though, was the ones only given to the knights, resilient and always vigilant, the eyes that protected all. All the kingdom will see his challenge, both with hope and fear.
“Your next step will decide your fate. Be valorous, be courageous, be honor-bound, fail any of them, and the flame will be merciless. The royal line needs to be complete in all aspects, other knights can improve later and correct their failures. Royalty needs to surpass these aspects and embodied them, being an example to the kingdom. Show to all present the value of the blood and ancestry you carry”.
“With all my heart”, said the boy as he was entering the flames, the last thing he sees is the encouraging smile of his father and preoccupied face of his mother, his fears and misgiving forgotten as all his world become the flames. The energy of the flames is transported to his body, like he was full of adrenaline and electricity at the same time. Not enduring the sudden sensations, he falls to the ground, doing all he can to sit. He tries to present himself the best he can, sitting on the ground, legs crossed, hands on his legs. The sensation keeps increasing, like his body was accumulating the energy. What was a volt of energization transformed into an alien sensation, he didn’t feel pain but his body started to feel alien.
The vision faded. Roberion, now a mimicry of the boy, is sprawled on the ground, the flame is way smaller, but nonetheless his entire body was on it, he sensation is the same, the alien sensation felt like his body was no more his. Percival, what is that? Who-oo is the boy?, he tried to talk but if before he was only hurt, now his wounds were closing but he felt more near death than before, his lips didn’t obey his will.
The vision is back to the boy. Complex symbols start to show in the flames. Although their meaning was alien, they seemed to be part of a whole, an integral part of the process of becoming a squire. The alien sensation reached their climax, he felt as a vagrant soul in a body that wasn’t his. The symbols were all present on his body, like a someone used his body as a way of transmitting a godless religious text, with all the necessaries illustrated symbols, most of them he couldn’t comprehend, focusing on it was searing his mind, others seemed like needless scribble.
“For what you strive for?”, the king and Percival’s voice mix, giving the sensation of two parallel realities becoming one, the alien sensation on his body, passive before, now forces him to answer the question, as if that was what it always wanted to know, its eagerness is palpable.