Kelpie's Knight

5: Reed, age 18

She stood behind Donton in line, grasping her documentation in her hands, trying to focus on the texture of the paper. She'd just pulled them from their hiding place in her vest, much like Donton had just done, but while he handed his to the knight behind the table, she had to wait and listen, and then it was her turn at the front.

"Papers," The man asked of her, and she offered them to him with both hands and a determined expression. He took them easily, and she did her best to let go. While he looked them over, she sucked in a deep breath, mainly because those documents she carried were a copy of her original ones—much like the one everyone else was carrying. However, hers had been slightly altered, because while there had been a few female warriors in Merci's history, there had never been a female knight—she hoped he'd never see through her tricky lie, tricky magic.

Well, there was that issue, and the issue of her species—race—also right there in front of him. "Reed," The knight with a green braided aiguillette on his right shoulder said her name, and she glanced up to his face quickly, wondering which of the discrepancies he'd chosen to question.

"No last name?" He prompted, and she shook her head. Ah, that too—but she was clever and had come up with a smooth twist.

"No sir, my pa doesn't want me using it if I'm going to do this." She replied, because it was true—for more reasons than one. The man on the other side of the table peered down at her papers, and then back up at her, something glinted in his eyes.

"Sometimes that happens." He said to her in a soft and surprisingly understanding tone. "What regiments are you striving for?"

"Oak and Willow, sir." She'd tried to hold his gaze, but he returned to her papers, writing a few things down. He handed them back to her, along with another slip, something new.

"Keep this on you at all times." Is what the lance knight said to her as she carefully took them from his grasp. He stared at her for a moment and then smiled. "Good luck out there, kid."

"Thank you, sir." She nodded at him again, and then stepped out of the way. Almost immediately, she found herself looking for Donton in the crowd, but she knew that even if she found him, the two of them would probably not be in the same group. After all, she was testing her skills with an axe and a bow, while he was going to be wielding a sword and twirling a lance, it was only natural that they would be in separate groups. She looked down.

This new slip of paper had her name on it, her age, race, a number, and the weapons she was to practice with. She also knew that she had been given her documentation back so that she could present it to her eventual regiment, or take it back home if she failed—but she had come here to prove something, and by the gods she was going to prove it or die trying. Her father called her a stubborn jackass all the time.

Tucking her copied papers back into their safe place within her vest, she twirled her slip in her fingers, smirking as she found her designated group who stood under the banner labeled with the lines of a number three.

There were a few boys that were probably the same age as her, and a couple that might have been two or so years older—in total, there were probably twenty of them, including her.

While she looked around and waited for further instruction, she noticed Donton waving at her from underneath a banner with a V of a five on it. She had a small face crack, and her detachedness fell away in favor of an actual smile as she sent a small motion back at him. He gave her two thumbs up, and she returned one, but as she did, one of the other boys standing close by said something to her.

"What the hell are you?" A teenager with mussy blond hair asked her when she had begun to turn away from Donton. That was when she noticed her whole group stood slightly further away from her than anyone else, and that they were all staring.