V. White
The duo had been riding for a little more than a couple days now when the metropolis of Adaltia rose in the distance. The city was comprised of an array of white concentric rings; the high walls that grew ever higher the closer they came to the epicenter of the city. At its center stood a massive keep, white spires shimmering in the sunlight. Emeline counted twelve rings radiating outward from around it. Sitting on the outside wall of the city, a massive square tower stretched upwards into the sky, its crown reaching to the same height as the highest tower of the central palace, even though its base sat far lower than the crest of the hill that the city blanketed. Flying buttresses spread out from about halfway up its structure. Velburg pointed to it. "That's the Citadel. That's where the Knights of the Royal Holy Order live." Emeline was still caught up in the awe of the vast city. It was even bigger than Irenze. "I'll live there?" she asked. "Yeah," Velburg replied. "Chances are you'll get a chamber near mine, since I'm the one who brought you in. As the two neared the city's massive gates, their path converged with that of another mounted knight. This one wore far more stylized armor than Velburg; it shone with a pale brassy gleam in the mid day sun. Their helm was a close-fitting segmented armet, with ornate strips of silvery, polished steel decorating it. Their shield bore an elaborate crest displaying a gold rose. Rather than holding their reins with two hands, they clasped it in a gauntleted right hand and a false grip made of a fierce-looking pair of hooks. At their side hung a peculiar looking sword with an odd, twisted basket hilt, almost like a conch. The knight lifted their visor to reveal a remarkably comely face. "Nice to see you again, Velburg!" she declared. "Nice to see you too, Hielban!" Velburg shouted back. "How did things go in Walsay?" The new knight, Hielban, responded, "Well enough. I see you brought someone back with you!" She nodded towards Emeline. Velburg looked back at Emeline, almost as though he was checking to make sure she was still riding beside him. "Yeah!" he said, almost proudly. "This is Emeline. She's gonna be training to become a knight." By now Hielban had removed her helm, letting her long black hair flow freely down her shoulders. Emeline blushed and looked away. "Good luck," the knight said directly to the secretly infatuated girl, before returning to conversation with Velburg. During the brief chat, the three had advanced closer to the city gates. The dirt road had transitioned to cobblestone long ago, creating the trademark clop of horse hooves on a hard surface. The twin gatehouses towered high above the knights, imposing a sense of inferiority before the beast of Adaltia. The three were not the only ones to be passing in and out of the metropolis. Hordes of commoners diffused back and forth underneath the mawlike portcullis. Once inside the outer walls of the city, the three took a right turn towards the Citadel. Emeline stuck out above the serfs and shopkeepers on her horse, the unpredictability of the mount and her inexperience in controlling it made her anxious and she worried that the horse might accidentally step on a stray foot or topple a crate of vegetables. After an arduous and anxiety-inducing journey from the main gate to the entrance of the Citadel, the three came to the huge stables that serviced knights of the Royal Holy Order. Hundreds of steeds were comfortably attended to by platoons of stablehands. After dismounting and giving over their horses to a quintet of scruffy looking boys, Velburg tossed a silver coin to them before walking out. Following Velburg and Hielban close behind, the three exited the walls of the city over a wide bridge to the solitary tower that was the Citadel. As the two knights conversed about their respective travels, Emeline gazed up, gawking at the sheer enormity of the structure. It was certainly far larger up close, huge banners displaying the royal crest, a prancing stag, stretching as many as twenty yards downward, their silver trim glimmering in the sunlight. Two tall oaken doors, reinforced with black iron, stood before them, agape. As the three entered the megalithic building, they were enveloped by a massive hall, upwards of five stories high, surrounded by layer after layer of columned mezzanines. The space had no windows, but was instead lit by the soft orange incandescence of hundreds of torches. Lamps hung from the far ceiling, like stars against a stony, vaulted sky. Each lamp burned incense, and the whole area was filled with a pleasant aroma. Drapes, tapestries, and other decorations hung loosely from every wall, all of them a deep red or a brilliant gold or a vibrant orange. Dozens, if not scores of knights, squires, and servants roomily crowded the massive hall; Emeline could hardly keep track of enough of them to count even fifty. Each and every one of them, though part of the same, majestic whole, was unique. There were some who wore naught but simple chain mail. Others had simple but practical plate armor, undecorated but reliable. There were even some who stood out like the heroes of old legends, clad in gold and bronze and polished silver. Emeline spied one in a spiked suit of black armor, as though they were wreathed in thorns. There was another whose polished bronze armor was shaped in the visage of an owl, and seemed to even emanate the same trademark sense of wisdom as one. Another two were conversing in a corner; one in a large, grotesque curiass in the shape of a dragon, the other with dark skin and an intricate, advanced crossbow slung across her back. Following the two older knights, Emeline weaved through the crowd towards the back of the hall, were a moderately sized opening led to a more generously sized staircase, spiraled around a large cylindrical turret with huge stained glass windows wrapping around, each depicting the scene of some hero who had faded long into myth. Emeline took the time to enjoy inspecting them. The first one she saw, lowest and closest to the doorway, depicted a great, gold-clad knight lifting a sword high into the air. The sword shone blue, and the moon hung above him. The second scene depicted a weeping maiden, holding a fallen, armored woman in her arms. The third was an explosion of color, showing a proud looking figure in white with his arms spread high and outward, like an eagle. He seemed to radiate a sort divine sense of valor, like how the sun radiates light. At his feet, he was wreathed in flames. As the three ascended and Velburg and Hielban continued to be caught up in conversation, they passed the fourth and final window, a portal dominated by a dark man with a massive sword, one who seemed to be surrounded by shadows. Whether the shadows were his opponent or a part of himself, Emeline couldn't tell. Once they reached the landing, Velburg turned to Emeline. "I'm going to go to my chambers, to unpack my gear. Hielban will take you to go see Desuin for reviewing. Good luck, kid." He departed down a corridor to the left. Hielban led Emeline to the right. Emeline looked at Hielban's left hand. From what Velburg told her about Desuin, she wasn't so certain she wanted to be in the same room as him. "What did Velburg mean by 'reviewing?'" Emeline asked nervously. "Every new recruit must be reviewed by a Paladin. We can't just have anyone be a knight." The two arrived upon a heavy looking door. "I'll wait here. Desuin is inside." Emeline opened the door. It squeaked violently on its hinges, as though it loathed to be disturbed. Hielban closed it behind her, whispering, "Good luck, Emeline." The room she found herself in was far colder than the great hall she had been in moments before. It was large and spacious, but empty, save for a strange altar in the center. The altar seemed to be dedicated to the Holy King that all cathedrals and churches worshipped in the land of Aridonia, but there was something aloof about it. Every wall, every tile was an alabaster white. Pale light filtered through narrow, high windows in the back of the room. Kneeling at the altar's base was an enormous man clad in ghostly armor. His visor was up, but his back was to the door. He seemed to be doing something under his visor, artfully twisting and moving his hands as though he were painting a picture underneath the helm. Completing his work and setting down whatever strange tool he had in a basin of clear water, he slowly rose to his feet. He lowered his visor and turned to Emeline. The front of his helm was shaped in the form of a white, feminine face with hollow eyes. "Come," he said in a deep, booming voice that seemed to echo through the very fabric of reality itself. If his visage didn't send chills down the young girl's spine, his voice did. Emeline reluctantly edged closer. Even though the room was vacant save for her and the living pillar of enameled steel before her, she felt as though a million eyes were upon her, judging her very soul. Desuin was eerily patient as Emeline hesitantly made her way across the spacious room. No incense burned. No lanterns flooded the chamber in a soft glow. No casual conversations filled the air. Sooner than she expected, or even wanted to, the small girl found herself in the shadow of the white knight. The eye holes in his creepy visor seemed to devour all light, and the inanimate stillness of its visage was akin to that of a corpse. "I assume thou art to be a new squire," he inferred in that darkly ethereal voice. "What is thy nameth?" Emeline's voice squeaked out like the faint flow of air through a cave. "...Emeline," she managed to say. "Emeline..." Desuin repeated. "Betoketh me, Emeline, how many years hast thou seen?" Emeline assumed, even though she had never heard such an archaic form of speaking, that he was requesting to know her age. "Fourteen..." she replied meekly. A low grumble emanated from deep within Desuin, and although it was a pensive sigh, it sounded more like the low roll of distant thunder, heralding the coming of a violent storm. "What placeth doeth thou cometh from?" "Irenze." Emeline was trying as hard as she could to look up at Desuin's face without peering into the abyss-like sockets from which he glared at her with. "Doeth thou cometh from any noble h'ritage?" He asked. The only thing that seemed more bottomless than his eyes was his line of questioning. It was gentle, yet tense, as though he were holding something great or terrible back within him. "N...no..." Emeline let out. "At least none that I know of." Emeline could tell why Hielban closed the door rather than go in with her. Desuin took a long pause before continuing to speak. "That reckless, weak knight... Velburg... He brought thou h're. Didn't he?" "Yes..." Emeline confirmed, her sense of resolve growing weaker with every question. Desuin turned his back on the girl, facing towards the altar. "Doeth thou wond'r how I wot such things?" he asked. Emeline was terrified of answering, but she feared not answering even more. "...Only a little," she responded. Desuin whipped back around with alarming speeds to face Emeline again. "'Tis because I knoweth ev'rything in this Citadel, young child." He paused again, seeming to be deep in thought. "Thou wouldst be wise not to grise out of line whilist thou reside h're." He turned back and knelt again before the altar before looking back over his shoulder. "Begone with thou." Emeline didn't know what else to say other than to allow a weak sounding "thank you" and then backed out of the room, making sure not to turn her back until she was at the door. She opened it to find Hielban still waiting outside. Emeline let out her breath, not realizing how much of it she was holding. "He's terrifying," she said. Hielban shifted her weight so that as she leaned on the wall, her left arm was more concealed behind her body. "Just be sure to stay on his good side," she told the girl. "From what I overheard, he let you in. You didn't earn any points coming in with me and Velburg, but he let you in." Emeline felt relieved. Her life out of the gutters and alleys had been secured. Hielban changed her expression to that of a more positive one. "Now that you live here, you're going to need some items of your own. I'll show you to your chambers."
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After ascending another staircase and meandering through a labyrinth of hallways, the two arrived at a chamber, door ajar. "This," Hielban said, "is your new home." The chamber was certainly a step down from the main hall she had passed through earlier, but it was far more inviting than Desuin's quarters. It was small, but this meant little to someone who had come from a life of alleyways and puddles. A single bed sat in the corner, and a window crested with a pointed arch decorated the back wall. Emeline walked closer to it after entering the room. From it's vantage, she looked inward at the city, as though she were an eagle high above the earth. Red roofed houses scattered out as far as she could see, townsfolk bustling like the insects found squirming under a rock. She only now realized just how high the Citadel towered. It seemed enormous before, but only from a great height, looking down, could she comprehend the magnitude of its scale. On the way to the room, Hielban had told her of the libraries, two stories up above. Maybe there she could find out how such a colossal structure was even built. After enjoying her first experience looking out the window she would look out every morning, Emeline turned to examine the rest of the room. The room as a whole was rather unremarkable. There was a simple wardrobe in the corner adjacent to the door and opposite of the window. The bed, remarkably soft, sat just to the left of the window. A mundane nightstand was wedged in between the bed and the wall. "I'd say you can put your stuff here for now, but it doesn't look like you brought anything with you," Hielban said. "Just try to remember how to get here. The custodians will put a label on your door so you can find it easily. How about we go down to the armory to get you some gear. No knight is complete without any." After leaving Emeline's room and heading back down the way they came from the entrance hall, the two veered off to the right between the stairwell with the stained glass windows and the crowded hall. They passed through a slightly smaller door and down a gently sloping set of stairs down to a room that glowed a firey orange. The sounds of hammers striking metal filled the air. Emeline's nostrils flared up with the pungent scent of freshly polished steel and burning coal. The space around her grew hot, as hot as the hottest summer day she had ever experienced. They were in a smithy. They were surrounded by not one, not three, but thirteen different blacksmiths, all hunched over their work. A few conversed merrily as they did so, seeming to genuinely enjoy their craft. A fourteenth man, short but with a massively broad chest and arms as thick as a birch tree, approached them. "'Ello!" he jubilantly greeted them through a thick, coarse beard, the color of unrefined salt. He appeared much older than the others around him. "I see ye got a new feller wit' ya, Hielban," he said eagerly, looking at Emeline like a child would look at sweets. "I assume you've come 'ere for some armor? Perhaps a sword?" the man said, looking back up at Hielban. "Indeed we have," the brass knight replied, before turning to Emeline. "This here is Master Blacksmith Leopold. He's in charge of all the weapons and armor forged here." "Right I am," the jolly man confirmed proudly, grinning. "How 'bout ye come back to the storage room with us, take a look around and see if anythin suits ya." Leopold led Emeline and Hielban back to a door in the back of the smithy. To call it a "storage room" was an understatement. Shelves upon shelves of gleaming armor lined the chamber, lit by torches adorning the walls. "Follow me," Leopold directed. Emeline tailed the stocky blacksmith beyond countless rows and rows of tassets, curiasses, sabatons, and vambraces, although at the time she didn't even know that that's what such components were called. Near the back were large trunks, each of which was left open and contained a full outfit, plate, mail, and cloth, ready to be handed to a new knight in training. "Aha!" Leopold exclaimed as he came upon one of the many chests. "I wasn't sure if we still had it, but 'ere's a suit that I believe might fit ye. Hielban, if ye don't mind, why don't we let the lass try it on, hmm?" Leopold certainly seemed very eager to see his handiwork on a living model. Hielban nodded in agreement. As soon as the door creaked shut Emeline turned back towards the chest. It's lid was propped agape against the back of the shelf it sat on. Kneeling down to remove its contents, the young squire started laying out its contents on the stone floor before her. Carefully removing her clothes, she suddenly felt vulnerable, even though she knew she was alone in the room. The darker corners seemed as abyssal as Desuin's eyes. She rushed to slip on the undergarments provided with the outfit. Once those were on, she pulled a pair of brown trousers, covered with small tassles, over her thin, pale legs. It was a little loose, but there was a drawstring on the waist, allowing Emeline to adjust it. After that, she pulled an odd, blue-gray tunic over her head. It was odd due to its length and the way in which it was cut. It split once at the back and twice at the front, creating two large portions at her sides and covering her rear, and one thinner portion covering her front that was dyed a dull red to contrast the pale bluish gray of the rest of the tunic. Mixed in with the garments were a pair of black fingerless gloves, thin leather sewn into the palms to provide added grip. Once she had all the basic clothes on, she started on the actual armor itself. It was surprisingly light, even for armor designed to be so. Beginning with the chestplate and gorget, which opened like a clam and fastened under the arms, Emeline slipped it over her head and clasped it shut. She could hardly feel its weight at all. In fact, it felt rather comfortable. She understood why all the knights in the entrance hall so casually wore their armor. Next, she began clasping plates of armor to her legs. There, too, the steel was incredibly light. Leopold was right in that it was expected to fit her; the pointed metal boots fit well over her feet. She felt like a lobster she had once seen in a market in Irenze. After fastening them to her trousers using the ribbons that stuck out, which Emeline realized that that was what the ribbons were used for, she moved on to her arms, doing the same. It felt no different than wearing the clothes she had been sporting just minutes earlier. Now that she was wearing clothes, and armor no less, she felt safer, like nothing could touch her. It felt natural, somehow. The last piece, which she only put on briefly to experience what it was like to wear it, was the helmet. It seemed more sophisticated than Velburg's helmet, but not as ornate as those of Hielban or Desuin. A long, bill-like protrusion jutted out from the back to protect the neck, and a rectangular visor guarded her eyes. Her lower face and jaw was covered by a thin piece of steel, punctured with small holes to allow her to breathe. It felt comfortable, like the rest of her armor, but she took it off anyways. Carrying her helmet and her old clothes back with her, she found Hielban and Leopold waiting eagerly for her on the other side of the door. Leopold's eyes lit up with excitement at seeing his work in the hands, or rather on the body, of someone who would put it to good use. Hielban smiled approvingly. "It's so light," Emeline said regarding the supreme ease with which she wore the armor. "Right it is," Leopold said. "That armor we make is forged with Kaminite, making it as light as silk but as strong as any other steel. It's very valuable, so take good care of it, ya hear?" Emeline nodded, Leopold's godlike jollyness almost making her forget Desuin's bleak, frightening personality. Almost.
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After returning to her chamber, Emeline opted to lay her old clothes down in the wardrobe, keeping on her armor. It was almost silly, how even in the recent hour that she had been wearing it, she had grown so attached to it. Leopold's words echoed in her mind. It's very valuable. She had never owned anything that could be described with that word. It was as though her old life was a desert island, receding in the distance behind her as she sailed on.
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