The throneroom of my palace was filled with the quiet hum of anticipation as all my future knights and current ministers stood behind , forming a half-circle. Looking at us was like gazing at a tiara, with as its crown jewel and my wives flanking from left and right as beautiful, sparkling gems. A long, crimson carpet led to us from the other end of the throneroom, where Oleg and Pion stood in their black and gold accented uniforms, one hand on the handles of the double-sided door, respectively.
We weren't the only ones present, of course; there was a small crowd, their hearts pounding in their chests, and the weight of this mont was pressing against their ribs with every breath they took. Being present at the first knighting ceremony was a gifted opportunity, not sothing that would be open to the public. Although it was announced in the newspapers, and we would have a parade later on when Polo gets into his ch, those who could be present were only those who made a na for themselves in Avalon. This was a ceremony for Polo and for my future knights alone. It was an oath made between them and ; it was personal and ant to be unique, sothing that would be the hotbed of fables and tales amongst the regular people.
While I was letting the atmosphere get a bit tenser and raise the anticipation, Polo was nervously waiting at the other end of the doorway. He was waiting for my Father and rlin to lead him in, only gazing at the door before him, barely blinking. anwhile, within the throne room, Dia, our best painter, was standing on a slightly elevated spot, painting the scenery. Her hand moved as if it was about to leave after images behind it and made a painting that would be hosted within the palace itself, within a newly restructured room.
The Knights of the Round Table... I could already imagine that one day, they would stand with and, later on, with my children, their eyes steady and full of pride, sworn protectors of my bloodline. To be among them and to stand in their circle is more than just an honor—it is the fulfillnt of a dream. I want them to not only believe that but to feel it and yearn for it. Getting into their ranks will be the hardest challenge for anyone, and they will be open only to those with everything it takes: Skill, intelligence, and loyalty. Yet, it wouldn't be sothing that is restricted to Avalon-born citizens! Polo, our first to be knighted, was the brightest example of that.
Glancing around, I couldn't help but smile, quickly winking at my kids, who were standing by my mother, looking serious, just as if they were miniature adults. They were dressed neatly: my daughter was wearing a frilly pink dress, and my son was donning an officer's uniform, which he was adamant about wearing. While two little troublemakers stood straight, mimicking us with their seriousness, flanking my Mom, Lancelot was happily snoozing in her arms, oblivious to everything. Feeling that we had waited enough, I gently nodded at Oleg and Pion, who at once began opening the door, revealing Polo, rlin, and my Father, donning the armor of my soldiers, polished to shine on its obsidian color the mont sunlight hit its surface. Noticing how Polo felt his legs rooted in place, he was gently giving him a nudge so he could start walking.
With a flinch, looking white as a sheet of paper, he finally began making his way in, letting his body go into autopilot. He was wearing the sa military uniform as Pion, with the difference that on his shoulders was the emblem of a gear stabbed through vertically by a sword, the unifying crest of my future Knights. Reaching at the base of the steps to my throne, he hurriedly went to kneel, lowering his head, his body finally stopping its shaking. I heard him catch his breath as I began speaking, making him feel like my voice was like the rumble of thunder.
"Do you co before us to take the oath of knighthood, to serve the realm of Avalon, and to defend us, your people, and your Sovereign, now and until your dying breath?"
My words hang in the air, heavy with aning. I watched as he raised his head, eting my gaze. "I do, my Sovereign." He answered, his eyes steeled and not a drop of falseness within them.
With a nod, Sasha stepped forward, holding her staff, knocking its bottom on the floor, letting a magic formation appear above Polo, summoning a swirling ring of fire. Before anyone could react, rlin also clapped, creating a second formation of ice, materializing below Polo as if it had replaced the hard floor. At that mont, the throne room was filled with powerful fluctuations of mana, all bearing down on Polo, but he didn't flinch, keeping looking at . I smiled, keeping my eyes locked with his as I stepped forward, pulling out my sword; each movent of my hand was asured and deliberate. The tip of the blade touched his shoulders, first the left, then the right, while I began speaking.
"The weight of the blade and the magic you feel now is unasurable, as it carries the burden of our history, our honor, and our sacrifice. Yet, you proved that you are capable of standing tall with it bearing down on you! In the na of the Six Gods, in my na as Your Sovereign, I am putting the weight of Avalon on your shoulders." My voice bood, raising the blade to slowly tap the top of his head. "Be it magic of humans or beasts, you will wear armor of steel, becoming the shield that protects us all, withstanding any enemy, triumphing in every battle! From this day onward, you are no longer just Polo but Sir Knight Polo!"
As I finished, withdrawing my blade and letting him rise to his feet, feeling the weight of his new title settle onto his shoulders like a mantle, rlin and Sasha also withdrew their magic, smiling at him. The mont I broke out in a friendly laugh, clapping my hands, the hall also erupted in cheers, yet it felt distant for Polo. It was a buzzing hum at the edges of his awareness as he began wiping his eyes, trying not to cry. All he could hear was the echo of the others, their congratulatory words, as everyone, including the rest of the Knight Aspirants who all ca forward, shook his hands, knowing that as the years passed, they one day would stand where Polo was now, taking the sa oath.
Even if the path ahead was uncertain and fraught with danger and duty, at that mont, they all knew one thing with certainty: They would want nothing but to be bound to a greater destiny, one forged in the halls of history and sealed by the hand of their Sovereign.
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The day after Polo got knighted, he also received his tattoo, which went onto his back, right on his left shoulder blade. With that, he could finally climb onto his ch, sit in the pilot seat, and start it up, becoming one with the machine that would be his until he could no longer operate it. For now, it was barebones in its equipnt. However, while the military training was happening, using formations, howitzers, and our chs, including the Princess and the Lion, Polo could get a proper feel for it and decide what kind of armor and armants he wanted to install onto it.
In the anti, I was visiting Sasha, who finally made a breakthrough in her flathrower research. She asked to give her designs based on my mories of how we used those weapons so she could have a basic idea to start with, sothing that could provide her inspiration. What she was stuck with was what magic fire had going for it in the first place: too much heat!
But, after much trial and error, she finally ca up with a solution. What she built looked like a typical flathrower with the distinction that it wasn't connected to a tank on the soldier's back. It was a handheld weapon, and there were two slots for CC, one at the back and one behind the muzzle.
"Twin-formations?" I asked the mont I saw it, making her nod with a smile. She looked beautiful in her dirty, working overalls, her hair held up in a bun while her hands and face were black with smut, standing proudly in her private forge.
"Um! It took ti to tweak it so they don't clash, but I got it to work! You need to place one in the back; that will allow the weapon to function. The activation rune slips into place by pulling the trigger, and fire will be propelled out at the end."
"Similar to how the chs' version?"
"Not exactly, because you can change the shape for how it summons the fire!" She explained in great detail, leading to the testing range and firing it up. Literally.
I watched as a blanket of fire burst forth without any control whatsoever. It was wild and sweltering, making the muzzle begin to glow, and I was expecting it to start lting.
"At first, it was like this!" She shouted back, speaking over the roaring fire before activating the second formation. "But then, I developed this!"
What popped up before her was like a holographic projection, reminding of the blast shields on old bazookas. The mont it appeared, I watched as the fire began self-regulating and becoming controllable. Looking at the shield, I saw multiple magic runes organized in a circle as if it was a wheel-like selector. No… it was one.
"When using CC, the soldier can twist it to the desired selection and change it up!"
With that, I watched as the dial turned from the primary 12 o'clock spot to the 3 o'clock slot. The fire quickly beca a jet stream, whining super loudly and spewing out an arm-thick arc of plasma about 50 to 70 ters away.
"The shield will keep the wearer from getting overheated or the weapon from lting! Still, it is best not to use this mode for long because it will damage the weapon!" She shouted at , "Also, soldiers around it should be wary; it is so hot, it could easily lt off the armor from our chs!"
"This is like a plasma cutter." I whistled, watching her switch to the 6 o'clock position, and then the fire turned into a wave-like shape. At the base, coming out from the muzzle, it was still like a stream, but as it got farther away, it spread out like a fan, showering the testing field. This wasn't going as far as the previous mode, only for about 10 to 20 ters, but it covered a much larger area of at least 30 ters wide. "Nice!"
"It is not as hot as the previous one, but that is designed against armored targets! This would still boil a man's skin right off his skeleton!"
"Wicked!" I grinned, watching her switch again to the 9 o'clock position.
The mont the dial turned, it was as if she was holding a spray bottle. Although it was the shortest in reach, about 5 to 10 ters, it was going almost everywhere in our field of vision, creating a chainlink-fence-like wall of fire. I watched as she struggled to hold it firmly, so she switched it to the 12 o'clock spot before losing control. At once, it returned to the original, regular flathrower mode sowhere in the middle between the third and second functions.
"So?" She asked, grinning and turning it off, letting the tal cool down as it was still bright orange and smoking like crazy.
"You outdid yourself and anything I imagined!" I answered, stepping up to her, and after she hurriedly put it down to not burn , she began tiptoeing to let kiss her lips. "You are a genius."
“Ehehe… not really…” She whispered, hugging my neck. "I just had a good teacher~!"
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