Feyblue

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

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The Selection Ceremony

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Thankfully, the blonde only had a few moments to experience a bizarre mix of overwhelming gluttonous envy and the crushing weight of embarrassment at her own inability to give a convincing excuse, as, a few moments later, a man clad in the mixed heraldry of all four Knight-Commanders surmounted the platform, unrolling a large scroll and beginning to read from it.

For such an important day in the lives of the assembled youths in the courtyard, the contents of the herald's speech were... actually rather bland. To be sure, there was a great deal of flowery, overly loquacious prevarication about the great tradition of which they would soon be a part, the glorious 500 years of chivalric history that had built the very foundations of Grayle, and how each and every one of them would be expected to give their best for king and country both, to truly earn the honors of which they had been deemed worthy. It was a little bit calming, actually, Julian noted with some slight, wry amusement. The herald hadn't even bothered to mention that not everyone among them would get a shot at knighthood, and was just rambling on as if they'd already all made the cut. She had heard that getting in as a cadet was easy, but even so, she'd been... well, maybe a little worried. It would have been stranger if she wasn't, right? But somehow, even with the overwhelming amount of expectation that the speaker was trying to lay as a burden upon their small shoulders, she suddenly felt her stress evaporating, the subject of her worries seeming further and further away.

...At least, until the herald finished his preamble, and launched right into announcing the names of the accepted students. He started with the Southern House, and as he spoke, a haughty-looking man with fiery red hair stood up from the four seated at the top of the dais. When the herald had concluded, he gave a few brief instructions ordering them to their barracks, and the red-haired man gave a speech of his own -- one which was far less verbose, but a great deal more pointed, as he hammered in again and again that those he had chosen had been selected for their strength, and that it would be wise for them not to disappoint him.

Julian couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief that her name -- or, well, her alias -- hadn't been among this first group. Though, this relief slowly turned to concern when she realized it wasn't among the second group either -- or even the third -- as both Prince Manegold and the elderly head of the Northern House gave some speeches of their own to their candidates before ushering them away as well.

By the time the herald reached the fourth house, the courtyard had cleared a great deal, and the throng that had once packed it to the brim had thinned out enough that she could actually make out the individual faces and appearances of... well, just about everybody left, actually. And from what she could tell from her admittedly unfortunate vantage point, most of them... honestly looked pretty drab. There were a few intense or well-to-do looking youths scattered here and there, but most of the remaining candidates seemed not only like commoners, but like commoners of pretty average height and build.

...Well, except the small mountain hanging around next to her, still crunching down the last bits of his sandwich, but he definitely seemed out of place now that almost everybody else in the crowd wasn't just an inch or two shorter than him, but only came up to his shoulders at most.

...There was a fourth house still left, right? These weren't just all the failures who hadn't made the cut? She was going to get in, right? The herald had acted like it was guaranteed, but suddenly, she wasn't so sure again...

The reading continued. The names were all shorter now. Most didn't even have surnames, and those that did were just a few syllables. The air was growing tense as those who were called stepped forward, thinning the already sparse assembly until there were just a few dozen people left loitering about. Squad after squad was filled, until, with a crushing finality, the herald seemed to reach the end of the scroll. "And, finally, the thirteenth squadron!" He announced loudly, sending a shiver up Julian's spine. All her hopes were resting on this moment -- if her name wasn't here, then...

"This squadron will be headed by His Highness, Prince Rossweine Lupus Grayle! His second seat shall be Nathaniel Lothwren, and his third... Kaiser Underwall, of House Sauvage."

Well, those names all sounded important. A prince... was there even such a person left among this shabby crowd? If there really was, then the bar for entry just got a lot higher. Had she really failed, then? Thinking about it logically, there wasn't any way that somebody like her would be chosen to serve under royalty... Time seemed to slow to a crawl, and a chill ran up her spine. She raised a small, pale hand and fidgeted uneasily with her collar, suddenly feeling choked even by the loose-fitting hem of her tunic. No, it wasn't that she was choking, but rather that she had just forgotten to breathe. What now? What was she going to do? She couldn't go back, but if the knights wouldn't take her... then who would? Someone like her...

"Further rankings will be decided based on performance in training. The remaining members of the squad shall be..."

Please, somehow... she wouldn't ask for anything else, if only he'd read her name!

"Signar Wayland!"

The towering youth beside her stepped forward, and she felt herself wither a little more inside.

"Zenshin Ferros!"

It wasn't her.

"Dot Auferrum!"

It wasn't her!

"Liese Victoire Brendorn!"

The herald stopped for a moment, and so did Julian's heart in her chest. And then...

"Julian Baker!"

It was her. The life she'd felt creeping from her rushed back in a tide of emotion, and before she knew it, she was practically running forward to join the rest whose names had been called, mentally thanking whatever Star might be listening for its beneficence.

As she reached the now-assembled members of the newly minted Eastern House, she took note as the final of the four men upon the dais rose up, his long, dark hair trailing behind him as he approached the front of the stage.

"That will be all," he said, dismissing the herald, who nodded, rolled up the scroll, and departed. Not a word was spared for the remainder among the hopefuls, who quietly began to gather their things and trudge away. Julian couldn't help but look back at the fate from which she herself had only narrowly escaped... but her attention was transfixed by the man upon the stage a moment later.

"I have never had a particularly fine way with words... but I think we have all heard more than enough speeches today already, so I will keep this brief. Grayle finds itself in need, and those of you who stand before me now have answered the call to defend it. Your dedication up to this point has been admirable... for citizens. But as of now, you are no longer merely citizens, but the soldiers who will be expected not just to fight for your country, but potentially even to lead its armies into battle. The task before you is a daunting one, and dedication alone will not be sufficient to see it through. In light of that, I will leave you with a question. What is it that you can do for Grayle? Think long and hard on that in the days to come... and when you find an answer, see it through."

In a matter of seconds, their commander's speech had finished, and he turned to go, before glancing back one final time.

"Report to the Eastern Barracks. Your instructors will be waiting there to assign you your quarters, and you'll also have opportunities to meet with your squadmates. I would encourage you to use this time to familiarize yourself with both your accommodations and your brothers-in-arms, as tonight will be the last night of your old lives. Your training begins at dawn tomorrow. Dismissed!"

Barking back these curt remarks, the bespectacled man turned and strode away, his long mane of hair and flowing cloak trailing behind him as he disappeared from view. The cadets looked around, unsure of themselves, but moments later began to disperse, making their way in a disorderly procession out of the courtyard and around the perimeter of the palace's outer wall, towards the barracks on the eastern side of the castle grounds.

Julian, for her part, took one final look at the now empty courtyard, which suddenly seemed so much larger than it had before. The towering walls, the vast empty space, and the stage with its four seats, all devoid of their occupants. The sun was still high in the sky, but the shadows cast by the spires of the palace were long and dark, and made her feel tiny by comparison -- even moreso than she usually felt, that is. This place was going to be her new home, then... for how long? It made her head spin just to think about it, and a mix of relief and lingering worry swirled within her. Was this... really going to be alright?

...Well, fretting about things that had already happened wouldn't help any, and it wasn't her style to begin with. For now... their commander had seemed very terse and a bit intimidating, but the advice he had given was sound. For now, she should probably look for her squadmates...

Come to think of it, hadn't that huge guy stepped up just before she had? That meant they were going to be in the same group! And... well, he had seemed nice enough given that he hadn't laughed at her rather pathetic display earlier, so... maybe she'd just start by officially meeting him, then? That seemed safe enough. And given that even she could see his head sticking up over the rest of the crowd, it wasn't like he'd be hard to find. So, since they both seemed to be pretty close to the back of the group, she slipped over towards him as best she could without getting trampled underfoot by the other trainees, before popping up by his side once again.

...It was around this point that she realized that she wasn't really sure how exactly you were supposed to greet someone. This wasn't even really a problem that stemmed from her pretending to be a boy, but rather just a sign that the blonde had a profound lack of social experience. Maybe something like... "I'll be in your care?" No, that was far too passive and formal, and even an idiot like her could tell that a baker's son would have no need of that kind of etiquette. Then, maybe "Good to be working with you!" But then again, that seemed a little overly friendly...

It was around this point that her mouth stopped caring about her indecisive brain, and before she knew it, she had apparently already given her greeting.

"Uh... hi. So... I guess we're some kinda team now, huh?"

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

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First Meeting

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Hop. Just a little higher. Hop. No, still not enough. Hop. Almost made it that time! Hop. Okay come on, this was getting silly. Hop. There! And the stage was... still empty! Or at least, she was pretty sure it was. Maybe one more just to check? Hop. Yup, still empty.

Rumble.

Her stomach was still empty too! Just in case she had somehow managed to forget that unpleasant fact. So empty, in fact, that she was starting to imagine things. Things like the smell of a delicious, honey-glazed slice of oven-roasted ham, or the crunching sound of the crisp outer crust of a loaf of bread so freshly baked it was still warm and steaming... Or a sudden darkness spreading over her as if a cloud had just covered the sun? No, wait, scratch that, that part was real, which meant the other bit was... maybe also real? She hoped it was real. She could really use a snack to tide over her insatiable appetite, at least until they could get to the mess hall. Assuming she had made the cut, anyway... Which she definitely had. The mere notion that she could be worried about something like that was ridiculous! After all, it wasn't as if she'd literally starve in the streets if they didn't hurry up and announce her acceptance already.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH.

Okay, silent internal screaming and general hysteria probably wasn't productive to her current situation, so it was better to distract herself with something interesting, like the prospect of a mouthwateringly delectable sandwich or whatever tree had suddenly decided to take root behind her. The blonde took a deep breath, and turned around to investigate. Much to her surprise, what she found there was... a broad-shouldered, tan skinned body, with burly arms poking out from underneath an oft-mended tunic that no doubt concealed a chiseled chest.

...Okay. She had to admit, she appreciated the sudden generosity of whatever Star had taken notice of her sorry plight, but unfortunately, that wasn't really the type of snack she'd been hoping for.

Oh, right, now really wasn't the time to be... uh... admiring the scenery. Right, if she started staring, he'd think she was weird! She was a totally normal boy right now, not some... weirdo who stared at muscles. That would have been something a non-manly man who had no muscles would do! Or worse, something a girl would do while pretending to be a non-manly man who had no muscles! Which she definitely wasn't, by the way! She'd been training really hard for... at least a week! She definitely had some beef on her. Somewhere.

Still, this guy was supposed to be around her age, right? He was huge! Enormous! Monolithic! Gargantuan! He looked like he could have broken her dad in two with his bare hands! What did you even have to eat to get that large?! Was the secret in that sandwich he was carrying? She'd have to try some. For scientific purposes.

Thankfully, Julian's two working braincells were working overtime today, and so this entire deranged tangent sped through her otherwise airy head with astonishing alacrity, leaving her just enough time to direct her gaze up... and up... and up... until she finally reached the young man's face... which stared impassively back down at her. She managed an awkward grin -- the sort of expression that says "Um, can I help you?" when you're too flabbergasted to speak at all.

...Speaking of... well, speaking, he had said something, hadn't he? And the more she managed to process what, exactly, he had said, the more she realized that his offer contained within it an assumption that was highly insulting! She folded her arms with a very authoritative -- or, at least, she thought it was pretty decisive -- "Hmph!" and spread her feet apart into what could charitably be called a "power stance," if only her body were bulky enough that widening her posture made any difference whatsoever.

"D-Don't be ridiculous! Of course I could go to the front aaaaaaany time I wanted! I just thought it would be better to stay all the way back here, where it's... um... not so crowded. But not because I'm worried I'd get trampled or anything! Because I wouldn't!"

It was around this time that Julian's third braincell clocked back in, and realized that maybe -- just maybe -- she hadn't managed to give the most convincing performance. Her smug expression and bold posture seemed to twitch a little, and a certain red hue began to appear around the tips of her ears. She cleared her throat as if to continue, then realized she really had no way to salvage this one. So she cleared it again. And again. Threw in a cough for good measure.

...Y'know, actually, getting trampled didn't sound so bad right--

The ear-piercing keen of a trumpet shattered the world's most awkward silence and delivered Julian from her internal hell. The sound of heavy boots echoed upon the wooden planks of the stage, and four imposing figures clad respectively in red, white, black, and gold emerged before the crowd, taking their seats upon four raised benches atop the dais.

The Knight-Commanders were present. The admissions ceremony had begun.

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

Alright, I've hastily begun throwing together a Discord server. It's a little barebones at the moment, but I'll flesh it out as we go.

discord.gg/peFes5wx

This invite link should connect you to it~

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

Oh, right, forgot I was gonna do that.

I gotta head to work now, but I'll set something up when I get back this evening.

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

@Zeroth I'll gladly take any lore you want to give me on his family, though I may not be able to work it into stuff right away.

Also, you don't specifically need to mention the debut spar, but the opening post is mostly just sorta to set up your character's state of mind and how they've been faring going into joining the knights, so the debut spar might be important to that? IDK. Basically, just establish your character however you like~.

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

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A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

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It was a beautiful day in Grayle. The sun was shining and the sky was clear, with a cool breeze blowing a thin mist up from the resplendent aquamarine surface of the Viridian River, drawing rainbows of refracted light out into the spring air. The people of the capital bustled about to and fro -- merchants hawking their wares in the town square, dockhands scampering hither and thither to unload the cargo of newly arrived vessels... and, more unusually, a particularly large crowd of young men could be seen crossing over King's Bridge toward the castle, where a sizeable mass had already gathered in one of the outer courtyards.

For the nobles, the last week had doubtless been one of leisure and relaxation. After all, their acceptance as candidates into the burgeoning ranks of the Knight Sentinels was already secured by virtue of their esteemed blood. Regardless of how well or how poorly they had fared in their opening spar, there was a vast future littered with prizes ahead of them, and for the time being, all they had to do was wait and see who would choose them.

For the children of soldiers and the students of swordsmanship, the last week was likely one of barely contained excitement. Confident in their results, they, too, needn't have feared rejection. Perhaps their thoughts had run wild with the prospect of having impressed one of the Knight-Commanders, being chosen as a favored student and assigned their own squadron, climbing the ranks and swiftly being knighted for their prowess. Such youthful dreams were as abundant as the ripples in the clear waters of the river below.

But for those who were unwanted, those who were unskilled, those whose lofty goals yet remained well beyond the reach of their tiny hands, and those burdened with secrets they could never share... Their week had no doubt been one of trepidation and anxiety. Had they done well enough? Would they be chosen? Could they really prove their worth and stand equal to their peers as knights? What, indeed, did the future hold for the unwanted and the unknown?

And more importantly...

Rumble. Groan. Rumble-rumble.

"...So... friggin'... hungry..."

A tiny, blonde-haired figure groaned, clutching at "his" stomach, looking aimlessly around the courtyard. Or rather, she looked aimlessly at the backs of the people standing around her, since just about everybody else here had the gall to be a head taller than her. She couldn't even see the stage to tell if the herald had actually shown up yet to start reading off who made it and who didn't!

...Well, it wasn't like she was worried about that, though. She'd beaten up some big-shot noble quick as a flash (admittedly with a little help from her trusty pocket sand, but the point is that she had won) so obviously, she'd make it in, right? But that didn't mean anything if she starved to death before getting to reap the rewards of her sweet, sweet victory.

She'd managed what little remained in her meager purse as best she could since coming to the capital, but those funds had run out completely before she'd even stumbled across the knight tryouts, and, in a stroke of good fortune, realized that she could fulfill her childhood dream and get food for free all in one fell swoop. Granted, having to disguise herself as a boy the whole time was kind of a downside, but she'd already been doing that anyway to keep herself safe -- or at least, safer -- on the road. How much harder could it be to just stay in disguise all the time?

She had, of course, forgotten that people who aren't just barely scraping by in abject poverty usually took baths every once in a while, but she would only come to remember that much later, when it was already too late.

For the time being, her lack of food preoccupied her so thoroughly that all else seemed insignificant, and she alternated between mourning the unfortunate ease with which she could feel her ribs even through the padding stuffed beneath her clothes, and periodically hopping up and down to try to peer out over the sea of people surrounding her and see what was taking so long.

And so, the waiting game continued. The Nobles confident, the dreamers expectant, the underdogs anxious... All were hungry for adventure, and one pipsqueak impostor was just plain hungry. Little did she, or anyone, know what highs and lows the future would truly hold. But they were young, and they were brave, and they were ready to begin...

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

@ERode

Sure, if you'd like! I did end up taking some liberties with him in my post. I hope you don't mind.

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

Dropped a zeroth post in IC to lay some groundwork for other characters in the setting and their reactions to our cast, and to give some foreshadowing for stuff to come. It, like the lore files, is totally optional -- it's mostly just a prologue/sidestory type thing I wanted to have up in case people were interested.

I'll work on the proper intro in a few, and it should be a great deal shorter and less dialogue-heavy. :P

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

Prologue: The Knight-Commanders' Council

"What is the meaning of this, Tervellan!?"

The raven-haired knight breathed a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples and adjusting his spectacles as the loudmouthed man seated to the left of him slammed down his gauntleted fist upon the table, sending a small avalanche of precariously balanced papers over the edge and scattering them onto the floor. The elderly gentleman seated to his right echoed this gesture but a moment later, but though he, too, seemed annoyed by their loudmouthed colleague, their shared headache was evidently insufficient to evince any sentiments in support of the Black Wolf's proposal. Well, it wasn't as if he'd expected it to be that easy, but the real question was how the man seated across the table from him would react.

"Calm yourself, Ser Valentin. Let's not begin such an important meeting by screaming at one another -- though I, too, would very much like an explanation for this." The blonde knight's blue-green eyes narrowed, and though his voice and expression remained calm, the esteemed head of the Western House did not conceal the pointed nature of his glare back across the table.

The room was silent for a moment, save for the low, distant rumbling of the Barrier Falls outside the window, and the sound of raindrops upon the roof. Gilbert Tervellan, Black Wolf of the Sentinel Knights and head of the Eastern House, cleared his throat and adjusted his spectacles.

"But of course, your Highness." He smiled coolly at Prince Manegold, who merely stared back in return. "I'd be all too happy to clarify any areas in which my proposal was vague or unclear. Where would you have me begin?"

"You know damn well where the problem lies, you smug cur!" Another loud slam echoed through the room as Ser Rubeus Valentin, Crimson Lion and head of the Southern House, cut back into the conversation. "This so-called 'proposal' is nothing but a list of absurd demands and self-serving garbage! Two aura users in a generation, and you mean to monopolize them both? What's more, you're even suggesting we hand over the Light-user and the Absolute to you as well! It's obvious that you're just trying to make yourself look good by monopolizing all of the best candidates!"

"'All the best candidates,' he says." The old man in the corner gave a quiet chuckle. "An alleged Grayle of unknown parentage..."

Manegold's expression darkened, his teeth clenching into a grimace, but still he said nothing.

"...and a delusional girl claiming to be the reincarnation of the great Alexander. If his excellency Ser Tervellan desires to take these troublemakers off of the rest of our hands, I, at least, will offer no complaint, save that I think it a waste of precious time and resources to humor such empty whims. The one is almost certainly an Alexandrian spy, and the other is simply a child chasing a foolish dream -- a dream from which she will certainly awaken once she realizes it's not the sort of life she sees in storybooks and loses her interest."

"We've discussed this already, Caius," Manegold said at last. "It's unorthodox, yes, but we cannot afford to alienate an Absolute, no matter how... eccentric, nor can we squander the Blessing of the Light, no matter what form in which it is returned to us. Besides, your own people investigated her and found no signs of correspondence with any outsiders, did they not?"

Caius Ward, head of the Northern House, shook his head resolutely. "Not yet, perhaps. But leaving her aside, the Absolute girl's talents could be far better utilized in magical research and in providing for the needs of the people than they would ever be in playing at knight. The Great Sage ended famines, raised up cities from nothing -- one would think that someone claiming to be his reincarnation would see the value in doing the same rather than chasing some empty dream of matching up to the Founder!"

"You expect too much of her. I find it difficult to believe Alexander could return from the dead in the first place, let alone that if he could, he'd revive himself 500 years later as a woman," Valentin joined in again, evidently unwilling to shut himself up and stop making the conversation more complicated than it needed to be. Tervellan uttered a quiet groan, but this went unheard as the other three continued their bickering. "To do so would require the Blessing of the Light or the Power of Darkness, wouldn't it?"

"Perhaps with the Earthly Star -- but that hardly pertains to this discussion. In any case, the appearance of so many Aura users in such a short time can only mean one thing --" Manegold tried to right the course their wayward conversation was taking, but to no avail.

"Yes, yes, the return of Fendel -- or so you claim. And yet, even with your own scouts combing the Wildlands, you've yet to find any sign of daemonic activity -- much less any of the accursed!" Valentin scoffed.

"...Much though it pains me to do so, your Highness, I must agree with Ser Valentin on this matter." Caius sighed. "I believe that if such a grave event were to take place, we'd surely have seen some sign of it by now -- something more substantial than children playing at being heroes, and a few unexpected prodigies turning up here and there. But not even the Stars have spoken to us on this matter -- do you not believe that perhaps you may be overthinking things, Your Highness?"

Manegold's grimace returned, and he opened his mouth to answer, but enough was enough. This time, Tervellan brought down his own hand upon the table, the noise jarring the other three for a moment and drawing attention back to him.

"We hardly need to look to old legends and the prophecies of an ancient madman to find enemies for ourselves. Whether we want war or not, Alexandria could invade at any time, and when that happens, it will be my soldiers who are charged with facing them. We've held the line, we've built the forts, and we'll man the walls against whatever army those so-called sages send our way from their high tower. The healing powers of the Blessing of Light... the ability of an Absolute to respond to any and all enemy magic with an appropriate counteraction... the strength of Aura to open a path on the frontlines... It seems perfectly clear to me that all these things will be great assets not just to myself, but to Grayle as a whole." The dark haired man slowly rose up, standing as he spoke, hoping to drive the others into silence long enough to at least give his argument.

"Ser Valentin referred to my proposal as self-serving, but I assure you, it is anything but. All I want is to ensure that those who represent our nation's best chance of victory are adequately prepared to go out and claim it. The glory of their achievements, whose banner is flown highest at the tournament -- such trifles interest me not --"

"You say that," interjected Caius. "But I do not believe you'd object to taking credit for this victory of yours, either. Besides, if all the best and brightest were to gather in one house, it would hurt morale amongst the rest of the trainees, would it not? Our soldiers --" He motioned across the table to Valentin as he said this. "-- may not be the first to face battle with Alexandria, but they, too, will be expected to fight."

"Caius makes a convincing point." Manegold nodded approvingly. "The balance between the Four Houses is meant to foster competition and growth among the recruits. If one House is seen as overtly superior to the others, then the remaining three quarters of our students will be made to see themselves as inferior. Therefore, though I respect your judgment, I can't concede to your request as it stands."

"I thought you would say something like that, Your Highness." Tervellan adjusted his spectacles with a grin. "But you must understand -- though I would certainly like those four, I'm willing to relinquish all further picks from among this year's candidates. I'm given to understand that there are many promising swordsmen amongst this generation's students as well. With the cream of the crop bolstering your own ranks, we could organize the first tournament of the year as a purely martial affair, with the use of magic forbidden. I believe those two concessions combined would allow your Houses a sufficient advantage to level the playing field, would they not?"

"Perhaps, but at what cost? You'd have our finest prodigies training alongside the very worst of the riff-raff?" Caius asked pointedly.

"Didn't you yourself make a point of noting that two of those 'prodigies' are inexperienced girls? Their magic interests me, to be sure -- but as far as learning swordsmanship and undergoing physical training, they'd only be a handicap to a more experienced squad." Tervellan recited his answer coolly, having already anticipated such a question. Caius grimaced, his face wrinkling in obvious frustration at having his own complaints thrown back at him.

"What about the other two -- the Aura users? Ordinary training won't suffice for them. If we handed them over to you along with the rest of the rabble, we'd be squandering their potential," Valentin interjected smugly. It seemed those, at least, he wouldn't let go willingly. However...

"They'd have each other as opponents, which is better than the alternative. Only a hero can match another hero and push them to their limits... right, your Highness?" His counterargument was obviously pandering to the esteemed Prince's own view of Aura users. Manegold's glare told Tervellan that his intentions had been seen through, but nevertheless, the Prince nodded.

"What you say is true... however, fighting the same opponent can also lead to complacency. A wide variety of experience would be better. I expect you to prioritize their instruction over all else, given that our nation's future, as you have said, may be resting in their hands... Hmm... Ah." Settling on a solution of his own, the prince gave a knowing grin before continuing -- though that alone told Tervellan all he needed to be sure that the prince's mind was already decided. "As it happens," Manegold continued. "My little brother Rossweine will also be enrolling in the knights this year. I'm sure he can be convinced to keep an eye on the Aura users and their progress and report his findings back to me. If I judge that you've failed to develop their skills adequately... then I will take their instruction upon myself, and they will be reassigned to the Western House. Are we clear?"

"But of course. Had you not so kindly volunteered, I would have asked as much of you myself. I'll attempt to cultivate their potential as much as I can, and then, should they grow bitter or disillusioned, you have only to sweep in and place the blame on me, the glory hound whose desire to claim their accolades for myself only served to stifle their growth. I'm more than happy to play the scapegoat if it means they remain loyal and devoted to Grayle."

"Then in that case, I have no further objections either." Caius nodded. The stakes for failure were high, but the payoff if he succeeded would be more than worth it -- not only for his own family and career, but for the country as whole. With three of the four on his side, Tervellan knew he'd already won. He shot a smug grin over to Valentin, but only got a hateful scowl in return. With this out of the way, the meeting continued far more peaceably, and moved on to the selection of candidates for the other Houses -- then swiftly concluded. Yet, as he left the room, Tervellan heard a quiet, but furious voice coming from the man behind him...

"Not just the Aura users and the so-called Successors, but they're even handing you the Prince, too? Aren't you just so lucky..." Valentin fumed. "Mark my words, Tervellan, you sanctimonious lapdog, you won't get the glory you're looking for. I'll see to it that your House is utterly crushed this year, and when that happens, the Lord Marshal will hear about this little trick you've pulled!"

"Do as you please," the Black Wolf replied, unmoved. "Everything I do is for the sake of Grayle. I have done nothing of which I need be ashamed."

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