When the World Ends

2; Astrid

     It feels like I've been standing here an eternity, clad in full battle armor for the coronation of the new Elector. We've never met but I've already vowed to be the best Commander the Empire has ever seen. They swear by blood and bone, but that's not enough. 

     "He's late." I mutter to the guards waiting on the dais. "I hope this isn't a regular thing, because if so, he and I will not get along." I glance around the field, the electricity of the chatter fueling my pride. So many years of schooling and training have went into this. I won't have this boy throw it away. 

     "I promise Lady Astrid, he will be here any second." The guard reassures. After several more minutes, well past 10:00 am, the lead guard signals for a man to go check Daye's room. 

     Before the guard even makes it around the corner, a flustered young man comes crashing into him. He's tall for his age, possibly towering a foot above me, with sandy blonde hair. From where he is standing, at the base of the stairs, no one in the crowd can see him. I watch him struggle to attach all of his weapons and straighten his cape before he lifts his head, squares his shoulders and mutters something to the guard. 

     The guard waves his hand to the drummers captain above the crowd, sitting in one of the notched carved into the amphitheater's wall, trying to get his attention. To no avail, the drummer is still messing with his instrument, missing all of the guards signals. 

     "Oh my skies, enough of this." I reach back over my shoulder and loose an arrow from the quiver. A few moments later, I send it flying at the drummer. It lands its target, in the wall between the mans head and his drum. He starts, searching the crowd for who might have done such a thing. When his eyes land on me, bow still raised, I lower my weapon and point to the guard who is, by this point, jumping up and down, waving his arms like a loon, trying to get the drummers attention. 

     The drummer nods, whistling to his men and soon starts a low, rhythmic thumping. The crowd grows silent and then erupts into cheer as the boy meant to be Elector takes the podium. Families of the students make up the majority of the crowd. Daye's peers are there, and leaders from the most wealthy families are here as well, banners marking their spots on the stairs. The warden is also here, and his cronies. Such despicable men.  

     Daye raises his hand, and in an instant, the crowd is silent. Deathly silent. 

     There are two portraits raised behind him on the dais, both covered by a velvet red curtain. 

     "Dear citizens of Syra. Today, I know, has been a long awaited ceremony for us all." The boy takes a deep breath and continues. "I know, that since the passing of my father, Elector Tobias, things have been rough. I'm not going to be the one to stand here and promise that things will get better, but I can promise that I will do my best to defend our land from the enemies around us and the enemies within us." That gathered a simultaneous huff from some regions.  

     The boy continues, "I, Daye, will do best with the counsel given to ensure the safety of every citizen, of every tribe. First, I'd like to take my vows as Elector and then we'll proceed into the coronation of the commandment."

     For the first time, he looks at me. The kindness in his eyes shocks me. Usually at these types of ceremonies, it was one and done: I'm the Elector, they're the Commander, break for lunch and go home. 

     He motions for me to come to the center of the dais, and pulls a small knife from the harness over his chest. Several more small knives lining his chest glimmer in the morning sun. Stepping closer to me, his mumbles, "I'm so sorry. I hate this part."

     "Please, state your name, rank and then you may begin your vows."

     I've seen his father do this so many times. He killed his commanders as if they were house flies and had to find a new one every few months. Daye approached me, so that we are only a few inches apart and turns me to face the crowd. He lifts my right sleeve, takes my arm in his hand, waiting for me to speak. 

     "I, Astrid Aldone, swear by heart and soul, blood and bone, to be loyal to the Empire, to the Elector and to the country, and Commander, second in rank to you, Daye, Elector-Primo," he hesitates, and then presses the knife to the skin of my upper arm. "I swear to be loyal to the citizens of Syra, to give my all to protect both young,"  I grit my teeth, clenching my fists. "and old, the mighty and the weak, until my last breath." 

     Daye steps back, wiping the blade on a square of fabric he takes from his pocket. "Well done, Astrid." He flips the blade over in his hand, offering it to me. He steps back and slowly removes his uniform jacket, showing off his lean physique. Despite the array of whipping scars, what appears to be cigar marks and scratches, I hear the young women in the crowd fawning, as if they've never seen a male body before. But perhaps they haven't. I've heard that the classes here at Ravenwood and single-sex until they reach their three final years and have to begin battling for their ranks.  I guess they see the muscle, not the struggle behind them.

     Daye hands his jacket off to the Martial, who holds it at his side. 

     We switch sides, and I do the same to him: Face him to the crowd, take his arm and press the blade to his skin. Carving our house symbol might take quite some time since we're a house of scholars, and our ancestors decided we needed the most intricate symbol in history. 

     He begins, "I, Daye Graesen, vow by blood and bone, heart and soul to be loyal to the citizens and the tribes, making decisions to the best of my ability with the superior counsel given to me."

I hesitate, simply holding the blade to his skin. He pauses, looking down at me.

     "It's okay, Just get it over with. I know how painful it will be. What could one more scar amidst the others do?"

I smile a slight, crooked smile. "Only bind me to you as your Commander for the rest of eternity."

     He returns my smile with one of his own, and nods, turning back to the crowd. "I know that nothing has been easy lately. Threats rising from the other nations, food rations running short, fear has plagued us for long enough and it's time to fight back."

     He seems to be taking this rather well, but that's when I notice his hand, gripping the lower lip of my breastplate. I'd be surprised if the metal isn't dented when he lets go. I quickly finish the carving, stepping away from Daye. 

     Moving swiftly, he returns to the podium, taking a chalice from the small shelf. He holds it under the fresh wound on his arm, collecting the falling blood and does the same for me. 

     The rest of the ceremony should pass quickly. There isn't much more to go over. Across the dais, there is a raised fire pit, burning brilliantly, even midday. Daye strides across the stage, setting the chalice onto a small platform, just wide enough for it to rest on in the middle of the fire pit. The platform is raised just high enough for flames to not consume the cup, but they still lick away, as if they sense the iron in the cup, rising higher and higher by the second. Behind us, the velvet curtains drop away and full scale pictures of Daye and I clad in full battle armor are on display before the crowd. 

     We both move to the center of the dais and join hands, raising them high. The crowd once again erupts into cheer and applause, and I spot my family in the crowd, waving flags and small banners. I'm their first daughter to reach a position so high in all of our lineage. Most of us settled for teachers, librarians, cartographers and the lot, but not me. Pride rises from the soles of our feet, and I raise our hands higher, not caring that the seal Daye carved into my arm is burning and still dripping. If anything, the pain fuels me and I swear by the skies to do better than any before me.