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Knighthood (Extremeophile X light.and.dark)

Extremeophile

Avatar of a Multiverse
Joined
Feb 26, 2020
It had been a long day of riding for Damian Beltwood, but it had not felt like one. The day of his setting off had been a celebration with his family on their small estate in the western hills where his father was a successful sharecropper and landholder. Having a son who wished to fight on behalf of the defense of the realm was an honor, and had the potential to bring glory to the Beltwood name. Already he had been sharing with all of his neighbors about his son who was going to go off and win every battle he was put in. After a lavish breakfast, his father had provided him with a young but gentle horse, a fine suit of armor, and a special sword he had commissioned with a bronze tree wrapping around a shiny blue sapphire. His last goodbyes had been so difficult, hugging each of his brothers and sisters goodbye, each of them giving him a small gift and trinket to pack in his things. While Damian's father was no head of state, his estate had his family had been able to provide him with a few nice things. A leatherbound notebook to record his journies with a small inkpot, some fine traveling clothes, copious traveling rations, a well made tent, and other niceties. He had all of the fresh look and full saddlebags of a young recruit who had never seen action.

And so he had ridden, dressed in his full armor, something which he would no doubt regret later. Damien was beaming with happiness, trying to push down his feelings of fear at how long it would be until he would see his family again. His journey to the capital would be a long one, several days of well laid road where he would practice what it would be like on the long journeys to this kingdom and that kingdom. Despite the long boring journey through forests and valleys, Damian's spirit never seemed to get bored. He was far too excited to finally be setting out on what he hoped would be his life's work. He wondered what the knight who trained him would be like, would he be large and strong or clever and sneaky? Would he be true, or would he be wisened? Damian was ready for anything and he could not wait to get there.

He decided to eschew his journal to start, he would only fill it with the most heroic of deeds he would tell himself. He practiced with his new tent, but it was harder to sleep on a bedroll in the cold than he had expected. This was not nearly as comfortable as his bed at home, and he was bruised and battered from the stupid decision to wear his armor all day when he should have worn his riding clothes. He grumbled, cursed at himself and at the cold, tossing and turning all night. Yet, when he awoke the next morning, his energy would return to him with the excitement of what was coming. He noted how simple his meals would have to be if he were to be a soldier. Even the raisins his mother had packed him would likely be a luxury. He wondered if he would ever be thrown a banquet in his honor... Before long he would be back on the road and headed towards what he still believed to be his bright and promising future.

And so Damien rode for 3 days, and at the dawn of the fourth day he was sore, and tired, and hoping that his new life of knighthood would toughen him up and compensate somehow for it's lack of comfort. The capital, which he had only seen once or twice, was huge and bustling with people who were on this business or that. A smile returned to his lips, the new and exciting place giving Damian a thrill. He was finally here, finally ready to meet the man who he would be with for the next few years of his life. They might end up as companions for life, or perhaps he would gracefully tell Damien he was ready to strike out on his own. He might be able to support this knight in his glory, or, the knight might support him in his own glory! Again Damien began to fantasize about what kind of warrior he would be assigned to, hoping that he could impress him with his own skill. His stomach knotted. What if his knight thought he was unworthy? He grips his fists tightly. No, he would prove himself. He had to!

He comes to the magistrates window, sliding his letter over the countertop. "I am here for my apprenticeship." He says in a confident tone, rolling on his heels and toes as the old man looks closely at the lettering. "Ah mmm yes, how is your father doing?" He says looking up at the boy. "Ah, and I remember when I signed your birth certificate. I must be getting old." He jokes, stamping the boys paperwork. "Sit down, your apprenticeship will begin soon enough." He says with a wry smile before disappearing into the back behind a series of shelves. Damian looks for a few moments, then sighs, finding a nearby bench and sitting at it. In the large stone building, there is a tall bronze statue of a well known knight, standing with his sword outstretched. Sir Jeffrey Bannock, knighted by the king for fending off the invading empires to the north 200 years ago. Damian looked in awe at it, wondering if he would have a statue like that someday, wondering if his knight would be as valiant and famous as Sir Jeffrey... He rocks on the bench a little, a mix of excitement and fear, wondering who it was he would be assigned to.
 
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