AFTER THE FALL: A SCI-FANTASY APOCALYPTIC ROLEPLAY
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"Yes, my lord. I'm ready. I've been awake for an hour, getting warmed up." Matt looked back at his mentor, Lord Eldric, with a steady gaze. The older man peered into Matt's eyes for a few moments, before snorting, and turning away.

"I'm glad to hear it. This is an unusual time for a knighting, to be sure, and you were up late for the ritual bath." He broke off, and then muttered, "Still don't understand that thing. Traditions. Hmph." Matt hid a grin as the man turned back. "Well, the ceremony will be beginning shortly. I trust your ceremony clothing is nearby? Charging?"

"Yes, my lord." Matt groaned inwardly. This formal speaking was really taxing on his mind. He'd been raised in a normal household. Why couldn't he just talk like it?"

"Good. We shall await you in the throne room. The entire royal family is going to be there, you know. It's not often this happens."

Matt nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"Damn it, Matthias, stop calling me that! Everyone else already does. Even SIR would be better."

Matt couldn't hide this grin. "Sorry, Eldric. I'm in formal mode for the knighting."

"I should hope so." Eldric turned away from Matt and marched toward the door. He casually tossed over his shoulder, "Matt, I'm quite proud of you, you know." Then he was gone.

Matt's grin widened. Then he shook himself back into focus present, and left the room himself, heading for the dressing room.
*

The dressing room was more of a dressing warehouse, divided into little cubicles with robotic arms dressing and undressing members of Royalty or knights faster than an arrow's flight. Matt stepped into an empty cubicle, pushed a sequence of keys, starting the system. With a whirl of motion, the arms pulled out a incredibly detailed, flowing suit of white robes, trimmed with gold. An inlaid design of his personal crest was woven in black and gold on his chest, With strange symbols of valor and glory embroidered along the sleeves and pants. A sky-blue cloak settled around his shoulders as a finishing touch, and, finished, he left the room, heading for the throne.

Along the way, he was stopped by at least five young woman, each attempting quite poorly to mask their true intentions and hold a casual conversation with him. He politely excused himself each time, and continued on. They were only interested in him because of the clothing, anyway, he reasoned, or perhaps because he appeared to be a knight.

Soon enough, he was standing at the Gates of the Western World. Massive doors of silver and steel. He pressed a finger to a scan pad, and the doors slowly slid open. He straightened, and purposefully marched into the room The King and Queen, their three remaining children, and an assortment of nobles were arranged throughout the titanic room, a testimony to the success of the new empire. Or at least, the success of the noble class. Regardless, after almost a decade, Matt was entering the room for a new purpose other than message relay.

He approached the throne, bowed, and knelt before the Ruler and his wife. His final test had begun.