Kneeling on the carpeted walkway of the chapel, Raphael stared at the cardinal in front of him as they prepared for the ceremony. Behind them flooded in the audience of priests and nobles who would be witness to the proceedings, taking their seats in the pews.
For this ceremony he was clad in silver and white medium armor, holding a helmet under his right arm. Today was an important day for him; it was his paladin knighting ceremony.
He had been working towards this day for the past two years after he left his hometown. Now, he was being accepted by the church as one of their own. No longer a fledgling paladin-in-training but a full-fledged independent member of the paladin forces of the church.
As he waited for everyone to take their seats, he wondered whether this was right. He felt he had earned the distinction of being a paladin, but… the only reason he was being brandished as a saint was because he was actually a being of higher authority. He had been raised the same as any human boy, but he had always known in his heart that he was something different. A church appraiser recently confirmed it — he was an angel. A heaven-sent winged warrior or messenger. One of the divine servants of the gods.
As he agonized over the morality of the position he was in, the cardinal caught his eye and gave him a warm smile. Realizing that he was dwelling on the wrong thing, he did his best to clear his mind and focus on the ceremony. It was not his choice to recognize himself as a saint or not, in the end it was the gods’. All he could do was put himself at their mercy and wait for the results.
A few moments later it was finally time for the ceremony to begin. As the cardinal began speaking, Raphael focused on every word and tried to burn them into his memory. This day was the turning point of his life, and the start of his adventure. He didn’t want to forget a single moment of it.
"Welcome ladies and gentlemen, guests of all stations. Today we are here to witness a special ceremony, the knighting of a paladin and the rise of something greater. You were all summoned here under the pretext of this being an important paladin knighting, and that was true."
The cardinal took a breath and looked around at the surprised faces of the guests before continuing. "But today there is a greater purpose you've all been brought together here for. Something we haven’t seen in a very long time…”
"Boy, center yourself and bring your quest to mind as I taught you before. You only get one chance at this," the cardinal whispered as he took his position before Raphael.
The next moment, the cardinal began a divine chant. "May the power of the gods that reside within me take shape and manifest today with us here. May the ‘Divine Will’ be shown today in this room, as we anoint both a new paladin and something greater — the first saint in these lands in a century."
Pausing for a moment, from the audience came the sounds of multiple gasps and a few doubtful looks. Smiling slightly, the cardinal continued.
"I beckon ‘Azalea the Creator’ and the twelve elder gods to step forward today and certify the claim that this paladin candidate before me is both a true paladin and a saint. If the certification is true, may the gods bless his path and give substance to his quest."
With those words, the room went silent as all the candles lighting the chapel went out and the room was plunged into darkness. A moment later, a dim light began to glow from Raphael. As the light grew in intensity, the roof of the chapel erupted in light as a deluge of embers fell from the ceiling like a heavy rain before descending harmlessly on all of the guests. As they slid to the floor, they came to life and raced towards the young man.
Raphael began to glow as he absorbed these particles until he was blinding, causing the guests to have to shield their eyes. His own vision unobscured by his light, Raphael kept his eyes fixed on the cardinal and willed his heart true; he knew what his purpose was. His determination was clear in his mind and in his heart.
The purpose of a saint was to be a healer, a religious leader, or to fulfill some other form of quest the gods had called upon them for. All saints had overwhelming divine power and authority, being above even the cardinal in front of him. Once a saint had been accepted by the gods, they were beyond the reaches of normal men and women. Even kings and queens would find it hard to consider themselves equal to a saint. This is what he would become today.
Focusing on his purpose, his reason for being, the light became so bright everyone had to shield their eyes — until suddenly the light vanished and all the candles flickered back to life. At that moment some of the tension was relieved in the now-lit room.
Before them kneeled the young man, now donning a halo of light. It was true then, this was the sign of a saint. In that moment, a few priests and women began crying. It was true, a saint had come to protect them. And not just a saint, but a Saint-Paladin, of all things. This was a meeting of a blessed fighter and healer in one, a rare sight.
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Looking down at Raphael with a slight smile, the cardinal finished his chant. "The gods have accepted you as a saint and have bestowed their blessing upon you. Now stand, paladin, and speak your name and what holy quest is before your audience. What shall you achieve with your life as the gods will it?"
Feeling a rush of pride at the fact the gods had accepted him, he took a deep breath, stood up, and turned around. As he opened his mouth, he saluted the audience. "I am Sir Raphael Seekforth, son of Salick Seekforth. I, as a paladin and a saint, promise to do three things: to protect the people, to slay monsters, and to clear the dungeons. I shall serve as an independent member of the church and bring this era of monsters and death to an end by my own sword!"
With that, he drew his blade and pointed it to the roof. The halo above his head coalesced around it and turned the blade blindingly bright before dispersing into the air..
Speaking up once more, the cardinal said "I present Sir Raphael Seekforth, the ‘Saint of the Blade’ and an Independent Paladin!"
After his words, the audience roared with applause and cheers as the nobles and priests both came to terms with what they had seen. The gods had sent them a divinely blessed monster slayer, and today his journey as the ‘Saint of the Blade’ would begin.
Knowing the cheery atmosphere wouldn't last forever, Raphael sheathed his sword and saluted to the audience before turning, bowing to the cardinal, and exiting the chapel. The ceremony was over and he was officially the first recognized saint in these lands in over a century.
But even though the ceremony was over, his night was just beginning. He now headed to his room, he needed to change into formal wear for the after-ceremony party with high priests and nobles.
He had been preparing for this party for months now, and he was grateful for that time. His type of a party had more booze and less formalities, so tonight would likely be a drag for him. Nobles were either going to curry his favor, try to marry him to their children, or try to get him to commit to work for them. Nobles were mostly all the same, with the rare exception, and he had no desire to get wrapped up in all of that.
Sighing, he nodded to the guards at the entrance to his suite and headed inside his room. Once inside, he took off his armor in a flurry, cast a spell to fill his bath with hot water, and threw himself into it.
Scrubbing off the sweat and grease from a long day spent preparing for the ceremony, he melted into the water and relaxed for the first time since he woke up that day. From running through a mock ceremony twice, to discussing with the nobles and priests who knew what was going to be revealed that day, to actually doing the ceremony — he was drained.
After a bit too long in the bath, he pulled himself out of the tub and inspected himself in the mirror as he dried off. Soft features, perfectly smooth white skin, black hair, and sky blue eyes with a devious look about them. Despite being 16 now, his adult features seemed like they might never come in and his facial hair was nonexistent.
He was often considered a soft pretty boy at first glance, being popular with both girls and guys around the church. He also noticed he caught a lot of looks when traveling through town, so he figured he was pretty attractive. This thought made his heart catch for a second, but a moment later it was gone. He had no time for romance right now… not yet.
Walking out of his bathroom he set his tower on a dresser, turned to his wardrobe, and sifted through the hangers. These were the outfits he only wore for special occasions, being nicer than his usual attire of priestly robes or adventuring gear.
Deciding to live up to his title as a paladin, he chose a loose-fitting white shirt with the church's symbol stitched out of gold thread on the left breast and a dark gray pair of short trousers with gold detailing, reminiscent of a dragon. This wasn’t his fanciest outfit, but it would help defend his reputation as being more meant for the sword than a party. Upon choosing a pair of fine black boots to finish the outfit, he returned to the bathroom and dressed.
He appreciated the fact he had his own suite a lot at this moment, most people had to share bathrooms with other priests but as a 'special' paladin-in-training he had always had fancier accommodations. Although, that was more due to his status as an angel than anything… not that anyone other than him and the cardinal knew.
Once dressed, he turned his attention to his hair. Using a light bit of fire and wind magic, he dried it and then meticulously worked on his hair until it was neat and orderly once again. Smiling at himself in the mirror, he briefly wondered how vain he really was. Gently brushing his left cheek, he shook the thought from his mind. ”It isn’t vain to admire your appearance, as long as you don’t get lost in it!” he thought to himself.
Chuckling at the fact he had shaken the anxiety from his mind enough to think about his appearance at a time like this, he exited the room and sat at his desk. He was going to sit here and rest for a bit before he raced off to the church's ballroom.
He was the guest of honor, so it was proper he show up last in a situation like this where the church was hosting — an organization he was considered independent from, aside from their recognition of him as a saint. He was grateful for that at least, not being considered an envoy of the church unless he wanted to be was a good thing for his future as an adventurer.
Picking up his journal, he decided to write down his exploits from the day before he headed out to the party. He'd have less time to do stuff like this starting tomorrow, as he’d be busy with everything he had to do. Journaling was a luxury for those with endless amounts of time, not those eight floors deep in a dungeon.
As his pen scratched across the page, he began to dream of what the following days would hold for him: monsters, companions, and the open floors of the dungeon. Tomorrow was when it would all finally begin. His adventure was just one party away.