Knighthood

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A/N: I just wanted to say, this is the symbol of the White Lion Squad. You'll find out who they are later.

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Chapter 2

Knighthood

Prince Edmond Ryall, Stowerling Palace, Winterhold

There were about twenty young men in total who were going to graduate to knighthood.

As Edmond stood there with the other young men, he felt himself growing more and more nervous, to the point where beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He began to twiddle his thumbs anxiously.

"Baron Eric Lyndon II, are you willing to serve your kingdom. . ." Edmond heard his father's monotonous voice speak to the son of Earl Eric Lyndon about serving his kingdom with honor and valor.

It's a short ceremony, he told himself. He dubs you knight, either hands you the sword you made or a sword that has been passed through the knights of your family.

As another young man was knighted, he realized he was at the front of the line.

It was his turn to be knighted.

As he walked up the steps, he noticed a few nobles nod their heads in recognition of him as the crown prince, while a few other lesser merchants and baronets bowed completely.

I'm not in that much of a powerful position, am I? he wondered, though he knew he was just lying to himself. The crown prince had almost as much power and position as the king himself.

He sunk down to one knee at his father's feet.

"Prince Edmond Ryall, are you willing to serve this kingdom? See that ye serve with all your heart, might, mind and strength? To hold true, to swear fealty to this kingdom and its king? To help anyone in need, woman or man, child or man, in their times of need? To never tell a lie, to fight with honor and valor?" Alexander asked.

Edmond swallowed though his mouth was dry. "Yes, my king." He bowed his head.

The king drew his sword--Wrath, a beautiful blade made of the translucent white yet very heavy metal known as arsteel--and tapped his shoulders with the flat of the blade. "I dub thee Sir Edmond Ryall. May you serve your kingdom with honor throughout your days!" he sheathed his sword and raised his hands. The people cheered as Edmond stood.

A servant ran up to his father and handed him a black sheath. "This sword was given to me by my father before he passed," said Alexander with quiet reverence--though Edmond was unsure if it was because he had just knighted his son, or because the sword was special. Though it saddened him, he suspected the latter. "He told me to give it to mine own son when he was knighted." He handed the sword to Edmond, who drew it in awe.

It was a beautiful ebony blade, jet black--though at the edges it glinted a slight shade of dark purple, hinting at it being edged with obsidian. The handle, which was polished iron, was black as the night sky.

"The blade's name is Darkheart. May you carry it with pride, my son," King Alexander said. Edmond sheathed the blade and stepped off the platform. When he was down, he replaced his unnamed steel blade with Darkheart.

The last few gentlemen--mainly the sons of nobles, though there was a daughter of a baronet--were knighted. There was a ball scheduled after the knighting ceremony. Though Edmond wished to be other places--due to prior unsavory experiences within large crowds--it was only common courtesy, being the crown prince and a new knight after all.

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