Post by inthedark on Sept 6, 2006 7:42:34 GMT -5
Rise
The water was cold. Merely touching it sent shivers down the youths back. The clear water poured from the carved mouth of a dryad and into the basin twenty steps long and ten steps wide, before pouring out through a crack at the far end where it became the stream that flowed out of the mountain side.
Ancient steps sank into the basin, above the spot where this happened new stoneworks were placed there for the usage of those entering the old chamber.
Trying not to hiss, the youth entered the water, slowly as he was supposed to, until he was waist deep. There he stood for a second before he began sinking to his knees until only his head was above the water, taking a slow breath of air he ducked his head in.
A few seconds later he stood and, as slowly as he entered, he moved out of the pool, accepted the towel from his servant and dried himself. He than proceeded to dress a long white shirt, white as the purity that he had just obtained from the water, a red cloak, red as blood that he will spill, and risk having spilled, and brown shoes, brown as the earth that all men must return to.
He than proceeded up the stairs, to the newer buildings. The servant left him and the youth proceeded on his own down the darkened room. Through the tall windows one could see that the sun was setting outside. Reaching a barrier the youth knelt and prayed. Others came and they to knelt, and prayed.
As the red streaks of dawn shot into the room men began to come in. Men in armor, with swords at their sides and men in long robes, with incense and books in hand. The ten youths weer still there, still praying as the temple came to life.
Ten knights walked up, past the youths and to the alter where they knelt and rose. The oldest amongst them spoke,
- ‘Patriarch. We present to you these excellent squires. We pray you grant them the right to join our ranks.’
The oldest amongst the clerics nodded and began,
- ‘Sons. Do you believe yourselves worthy to join the ranks of your fathers and serve the mortal and immortal lords with devotion?’
The ten youths replied as one,
- ‘I swear.’
The acolytes took naked swords of the alter, and after a final prayer and puff of incense they passed the swords to the knights, who sheathed them.
- ‘Do you swear that these blades, blessed in his name in his temple were not stain themselves with the blood of the innocent, that they will never be drawn in un-righteous anger or in a un-just cause?’
- ‘I Swear.’
The sword belts were passed to the youths who strapped them on, spurs were placed on their feet, during this time the Patriarch continued,
- ‘I’f your oaths are given in good faith and ye do not break them than may the gods in their heavens grant you their mercy and fortune. If spoken in bad faith or broken with consciousness than may you be cursed for eternity.’
The Patriarch sat and the knights stepped towards the youths, and each in their own manner, slapped the youth.
- ‘May this be the last blow you must take without striking back. Rise now, a knight.’
The youths did so and filled out of the temple. The song, “Gloria Vici” rang out as Alsdair, son of Mathew of the house of Mere-Wod, now knight of the realm, stood and moved out to done his armor, for the first time as a knight.
The water was cold. Merely touching it sent shivers down the youths back. The clear water poured from the carved mouth of a dryad and into the basin twenty steps long and ten steps wide, before pouring out through a crack at the far end where it became the stream that flowed out of the mountain side.
Ancient steps sank into the basin, above the spot where this happened new stoneworks were placed there for the usage of those entering the old chamber.
Trying not to hiss, the youth entered the water, slowly as he was supposed to, until he was waist deep. There he stood for a second before he began sinking to his knees until only his head was above the water, taking a slow breath of air he ducked his head in.
A few seconds later he stood and, as slowly as he entered, he moved out of the pool, accepted the towel from his servant and dried himself. He than proceeded to dress a long white shirt, white as the purity that he had just obtained from the water, a red cloak, red as blood that he will spill, and risk having spilled, and brown shoes, brown as the earth that all men must return to.
He than proceeded up the stairs, to the newer buildings. The servant left him and the youth proceeded on his own down the darkened room. Through the tall windows one could see that the sun was setting outside. Reaching a barrier the youth knelt and prayed. Others came and they to knelt, and prayed.
As the red streaks of dawn shot into the room men began to come in. Men in armor, with swords at their sides and men in long robes, with incense and books in hand. The ten youths weer still there, still praying as the temple came to life.
Ten knights walked up, past the youths and to the alter where they knelt and rose. The oldest amongst them spoke,
- ‘Patriarch. We present to you these excellent squires. We pray you grant them the right to join our ranks.’
The oldest amongst the clerics nodded and began,
- ‘Sons. Do you believe yourselves worthy to join the ranks of your fathers and serve the mortal and immortal lords with devotion?’
The ten youths replied as one,
- ‘I swear.’
The acolytes took naked swords of the alter, and after a final prayer and puff of incense they passed the swords to the knights, who sheathed them.
- ‘Do you swear that these blades, blessed in his name in his temple were not stain themselves with the blood of the innocent, that they will never be drawn in un-righteous anger or in a un-just cause?’
- ‘I Swear.’
The sword belts were passed to the youths who strapped them on, spurs were placed on their feet, during this time the Patriarch continued,
- ‘I’f your oaths are given in good faith and ye do not break them than may the gods in their heavens grant you their mercy and fortune. If spoken in bad faith or broken with consciousness than may you be cursed for eternity.’
The Patriarch sat and the knights stepped towards the youths, and each in their own manner, slapped the youth.
- ‘May this be the last blow you must take without striking back. Rise now, a knight.’
The youths did so and filled out of the temple. The song, “Gloria Vici” rang out as Alsdair, son of Mathew of the house of Mere-Wod, now knight of the realm, stood and moved out to done his armor, for the first time as a knight.
