The Spirit Wilds: Magic of the Green Sage (Fall of the Sages Book 1), стр. 21

“I will have a talk with her,” Vanter Vane said. “But I can’t promise anything.”

“Something needs to be done. The settlers out there are just sitting there waiting to be slaughtered.”

“I understand that.”

“Then maybe you can make her understand. She listens to you. And we— Ah, Dorrick, Ollo!” Sir Nogrund exclaimed as he finally noticed the two squires. He smiled.

Dorrick inclined his head in respect. “Captain. Commander.”

His father nodded at him, lips set in that cold line like they always were. Would it kill him to smile just once? Dorrick thought.

“Son.”

The two Vanes were a spitting image of one another, a true father-son duo, though Dorrick was sure that wasn’t a great fact for his father. They had the same wind-swept blond hair that they kept back in a knot. Both had strong jaws, though Dorrick’s was covered by a layer of stubble while his father’s was impeccably smooth as always. They had the same chiseled noses and sharp cheeks. The only difference between them was Dorrick had his mother’s brown eyes while his father’s were a stormy gray, near white, piercing and powerful.

Dorrick stood up straight, arms folded behind his back. He cleared his throat. “We came to see how you and Evan were doing before we went to dinner.”

“I appreciate it. I’m fine. The nurses stitched me up well, no internal bleeding or anything serious. Evan has a concussion and they gave him a sleeping tonic so he could recover, but he’ll be okay.”

Ollo sighed. “That’s a relief. Thank you, sir.”

He and Ollo were ready to leave. “Well, we see that you two are having a discussion, so we’ll just go…”

“Hold on,” his father snapped.

Dorrick went stock straight. “Yessir?”

The commander deferred to his captain. “Tell him, Nogrund.”

“Right.” Sir Nogrund sat up straighter in bed. “I explained what happened on our mission to the commander, as well as some of the other captains. Afterward, I recommended that you four have proven yourselves enough to each be awarded the rank of knight.”

Dorrick’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re… You’re saying that…”

Sir Nogrund snickered. “Yes, you two will no longer be squires. Tomorrow, you will be Knights of the Red Flame.”

Ollo laughed and ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t believe it.” He and Dorrick smiled and laughed and hugged as the captain and commander watched. It took a moment for him to realize they were doing this in front of superiors, so he and Ollo straightened and bowed, fists over their hearts in a sign of respect and gratitude.

“Thank you for this honor, sirs,” Ollo said.

“Nonsense,” Sir Nogrund said. “You’ve earned it.”

Dorrick’s father suddenly reached out and gripped his son by the shoulder. He gave him the slightest of grins, barely a smirk. “You did well, my son.”

Dorrick Vane practically melted.

The knighting was held the following evening. Dorrick and his friends were given the day off, naturally. He and Marcella could hardly believe it. They’d finally done it. They would be knights. After years of hard work and grueling training, it was all about to pay off. When he and Ollo had told her the news at dinner the night before, she’d practically screamed. That had garnered quite a few looks from knights around them, but Marcella had no shame when it came to that.

When the sun set the next evening, it was time for their knighting.

The Great Hall was packed to the brim, as it always was for this event. It was always a momentous occasion when young squires became full-fledged knights. It didn’t happen every day, so when it did, it was a celebration.

Dorrick and his friends were dressed in their beige-and-white dress uniforms, the trim and buttons shining golden in the light. They sat by themselves at a small table at the foot of the raised platform that all the captains ate at. The table the captains sat at was cleared of food and drinks, and they stood, arms behind their backs, in full dress uniforms, medals and pins all along their chests and shoulders, their red and purple captain cloaks billowing behind them. All twenty captains were present, which was rare because usually two or three were away on business.

And standing in the middle of them all was the commander himself, Vanter Vane. He surveyed the room with a cool and calculating gaze. It paused on his son.

The ceremony began with some prayers and blessing from the High Priest of the Sun Temple. Dorrick mostly tuned this out. He wasn’t very devout, nor was his father, but the commander allowed the church its place. The order had originally been a sect of the church centuries ago, though it was far more independent now.

After some more religious obligations and some speeches about duty and honor that Dorrick had literally heard a hundred times, he and his friends were asked to stand. They did. Dorrick’s whole body brimmed with anticipation. His nerves sang, his skin riddled with gooseflesh. It was an excited type of nervousness that he wasn’t quite used to.

“Come forward as I call your name,” his father called. The Great Hall was deathly silent. “Marcella Bather.”

Chella gulped beside him and strode forward, her arms locked at her sides. She came before his father and went down on one knee, head bowed. She didn’t need to be told to do that, as they’d seen dozens of other squires get knighted before.

The commander drew his sword and held it skyward, both hands gripped around the hilt. “You have proven yourself worthy of the title of Knight of the Red Flame. Through your hard work and steadfast spirit, you have shown that you have what it takes. Do you understand the duties and responsibilities that come with this title?”

“I do, sir,” she answered loudly, her voice trembling but resolute.

“Do you pledge to defend humanity, the great city of Al-Sevara and her citizens with all your heart and your strength, down to your dying breath if