The Red Frontier: Wrath of the Vanquished

Chapter 8: Oathbound

The tower bell above pealed a slow, foreboding rhythm that echoed through the great hall. Streams of golden light poured in through the polished windows in the room ahead, illuminating the path through the room. At the far end, atop a flat piece of shimmering stone, was the altar, a blazing bowl of wood and coal set within its centre. A carpet of polished reptilian scales led up the centre of the room, where warriors gathered on either side, their ceremonial armour shining like moonlight on ice.

Lothrak Nageeran took a deep breath, thoughts racing through his mind as he peered through the thin curtain of crimson cloth that lay between the foyer, where he was standing, and the great hall. Today was his knighting ceremony, the day he ascended... and he was afraid. Not just at what those in the room ahead thought of him, but of the one who would carry out the ceremony.

All around the room, emotions churned and lashed like the tentacles of a kraken. Excitement, anticipation and boredom all burned ahead of him, hidden only by a curtain that would soon be parted. All would see him face-to-face, and all of them would sense his emotions. His fear, his doubt, his dread at what would soon come to pass.

And then, as Lothrak looked into the near distance, a tall and stately figure stood silhouetted in the sunlight, his identity instantly betrayed by his aura of noble majesty. He moved with unflinching confidence, every action full of purpose and bereft of the slightest hint of hesitation, his mind a beacon of courage and wisdom for everyone in the room.

Everyone who was anyone knew who he was. The Burning Blade. The Slayer of Legions. The Knight Exemplar who had single-handedly defeated entire companies of Sirthon and brought down a War Mech with nothing more than his bare hands.

Gendros Kazoran of the Fireheart Wardens... Lothrak's tutor and master.

The young-blood had been granted the privilege of being tutored by the legend himself. Schooled to join the Firehearts by the epitome of Xan-Klar ideals. The pressure was high.

Terror speared through Lothrak's chest. What if Gendros saw his fear? What would his master say if he saw his squire be afraid of a simple ceremony? How could those he hoped to fight alongside treat him as an equal if he showed fear here and now?

His veins pulsed rapidly, bulging beneath his scales as elakadrine flooded his bloodstream. Lungs heaving, Lothrak tried desperately to reinvigorate his spirits.

He had earned his right to be here. Today was his day. The day he ascended and became that which he had quested to be for so long. Since he was a hatchling, he had dreamed of this moment, and he would not be so weak as to back out now.

He would not, for it would not befit a Xan-Klar to be a coward. Never doubt, never fear, never show weakness.

A voice sliced through his thoughts. One he instantly recognised.

"Knights of the Order, my brothers-in-arms." Gendros addressed the crowd, the sound of his voice instantly gainingtheir attention. "We stand here in our newest sanctuary so that we may invite one more righteous soul to join our ranks. Many of you know his name, others of you know his face, but we are all here to know him in the only true way; his mind and his soul. If he has the dedication, the courage and the willpower to stand before us all and take the oaths without fear, then he shall stand amongst us as an equal."

Lothrak swallowed.

"Fireheart Wardens, I present unto you my apprentice and squire... Lothrak Nageeran."

Breathing deep, Lothrak lifted his clawed hands and yanked the cloth curtain apart, revealing a vaulted room of quarried stone and mortar, illuminated by hanging lanterns and the light from the arched windows, was revealed, with eyes beyond counting turned towards him.