Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

“Knight Aureate?” Valsigian and Thorvald said simultaneously. Both men turned to look at Rakin. Thorvald spoke first, “I recognize the symbol, cousin, but I wasn’t aware that it meant the bearer was a Knight Aureate.” The uncertainty was plain in his voice. “Father taught me to watch for this symbol. He said whomsoever presented himself to the throne bearing this symbol would be allowed to travel to the Mystic Mountains without question or delay.” He pointed at the symbol that had left the air and now only resided on the young man’s shoulder. “Father instructed me that this was the only thing that precluded our laws, that an ancient oath, older than the kingdom itself, bound us.” He looked back to Valsigian, then to his sword, stuck high in the rafters. “And nobody ever said anything about that,” he pointed to Tyr, still deeply embedded, no longer quivering, his voice becoming more mystified but still confused.

Valsigian grimaced. He hadn’t expected the reaction to be as powerful as it had been. He had hoped that Tyr would have simply been repelled like his father’s sword had. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty. I had no idea that would happen that way.” The king simply nodded at him in response, his questions more important to him at the moment. He looked at the symbol still burning bright on his right shoulder, then at Rakin. “I thought the Knights Aureate died out thousands of years ago?” his tone sounded just as confused as Thorvald’s. “How is it possible that I could be one after all this time?”

“I will answer both of your questions,” Rakin responded, looking between the two of them and the others gathered in the room. Nobody else had dared utter a word, probably because they all still appeared to be in shock. He motioned with his hands once again towards Valsigian, “But first, please, cousin, tell him to stand.”

Thorvald looked back at Valsigian, surprised realization dawning on his face that he was still kneeling. His tone shifted back to one of authority, but no longer one of ceremony. “Please stand Valsigian,” he began, motioning with his right hand. “I can’t tell you to rise as a Knight of Mountainfall, as you are unable to swear the final oath.” His eyes betrayed relief in what he said next: “I don’t believe that title would do you any service at this point anyway. From what I remember of my teachings, your new title as a Knight Aureate places you outside of not only my command, but also any ruler on Dricarro.”

Valsigian looked to Rakin for confirmation of what Thorvald had just said, his eyes wide in disbelief. The old priest simply nodded in the affirmative and continued to motion for him to stand up. As he stood, he bowed to his king again. “I’m sorry I have disappointed you, Majesty.” his voice was thick with disappointment in himself. “I’ve wanted nothing more my entire life than to follow in my father’s footsteps and serve at your command.”

Thorvald waved off his apology, “Valsigian, you have not disappointed me in the least.” He smiled as he looked at the newly risen Knight before him. “Have you no idea the honor you bring to this kingdom, as the first Knight Aureate in millennia?”

“He’s right, Valsigian,” Rakin said as he patted Tove’s hand on his arm, letting her know he was fine. He began walking towards him, his gait seemingly steadier than before. “I honestly don’t know if you are the first.” He stopped in front of Valsigian, who had turned his way as he approached. “These things have a way of not being isolated events.”

He moved to place his left hand on the glowing symbol. Valsigian flinched away, fearing the old man might be repelled as forcefully as Tyr was. “I mean you no harm, young knight,” he motioned with his left hand again. This time Valsigian didn’t move. Rakin gingerly tested it to see if there would be any reaction to his touch. Satisfied that there would be no harm, he placed his entire palm over the symbol. The runes on the medallion he wore on his chest flared to life in that moment. “It is true,” the old priest declared, his face beaming with pride, his eyes reflecting the golden light from the now shining runes. “The Knights Aureate are reborn,” his eyes began to rim with moisture. His voice sounded younger, steadier, and full of promise. “A new age has dawned this day, and we are the chosen few who witnessed its birth.”

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The proclamation from the high priest brought mixed reactions from those present in the grand hall. Valsigian looked to each person in turn, disbelief still plain on his face. Thorvald simply nodded his approval, smile still in place. Titus, for the first time that Valsigian could ever remember, actually grinned, pride shining in his eyes. Tove clutched her hands over her chest, eyes still rimmed with tears, that smile she saved just for him, plain as day on her lips. General Heath Stormson stood unmoved, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes studied the young knight in a way they never had before. He felt as if Heath was either calculating a threat potential or a promising new weapon.

Knight Commander Davis Brookinsly looked somewhat disappointed. The fact that Dayne was the highest-ranking member of the Royal Guard present suddenly dawned on him. The only reason that Davis would be here was if he and the king had decided that he would be sworn in to the King’s Vanguard as soon as he was knighted. Sergeant Dayne Dahl, for that matter, still hadn’t found the ability to close his gaping mouth and appeared to be in as much disbelief as he was himself.

The last man in the room was who caught his attention the most, though. As Valsigian’s gaze landed on Ambassador Eldrien Altherin, his breath caught in his throat. All eyes in the grand hall turned at his reaction to the Ambassador, who was kneeling with his right hand fisted over his heart in salute. He was not kneeling to King Stormson; he was kneeling to Valsigian. His disbelief changed to shock in an instant.

Eldrien, recognizing the seriousness of the moment, spoke before Valsigian could question his bearing. “From the moment of my birth, as a member of the royal family of Shal’theris of Iltharion, I am sworn to be guardian to the Knights Aureate.” Reaching to his collar, he tore his shirt open to reveal the same symbol Valsigian had on his shoulder, minus the black circle. This perfect copy of the down-pointed, split blade sword had been branded into the flesh over his right breast. By the looks of it, it had been done when he was an infant. He rose from his kneeling position while simultaneously drawing his blade.

Titus and Heath immediately drew their blades in response and assumed defensive positions around Thorvald. They leveled their swords at Eldrien but did not speak a word of challenge as their king placed a hand on each of their blades and bid them lower their weapons with a shake of his head.

Eldrien moved with lethal precision and speed, his wicked blade held at Valsigian’s throat before he had time to blink. Valsigian froze. He could feel the razor-sharp edge of the blade resting on his jugular; the slightest motion would mean a quick and bloody death. “All in this room have questioned where I have attained this blade in the past.” Eldrien looked around the room, making eye contact with each and every one of them. “I have refused to speak of its origins based on my solemn vow to my Queen to speak of it only in this circumstance.” He looked directly into Valsigian’s eyes as he spoke what had never been revealed before. “This blade served the last Archon of the Knights Aureate. It's name is known only to myself and my Queen.” His sword arm held steady as a rock, unmoved by the weight of such an impressive blade. “If you are a Knight Aureate, Valsigian Hunterson of Mountainfall,” his eyes squinted with murderous intent. “You will tell me the name of this blade, or you will have taken your last breath.”