A Moment in Legends

One

The coldness of it all chilled Xavion to the bone. His hands unknowingly moved down to grip the edge of his bearskin cloak. Storm-gray eyes were pinned on the deadly gleam of the blade. Mounted on his best black mare, he sat, unblinking, carefully keeping his face neutral, as the sword was brought down... and carefully placed on the young man's right shoulder, then left.
A soft sigh seemed to spread around the courtyard. Father smiled down at his eldest son. "...And I name you Ser Lance Orion. Rise, knight, and be recognized."
As his brother arose, Xavion's ears perked up as Gana and Rellian's conversation grew louder to compete with the congrats for Lance.
"You think he is right for being knighted?" Rellian said, a hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword. Gana nodded. "He is doing what is destined for him."
"He is destined to be king. If it were up to me, he wouldn't be standing there, receiving applause. He would be mounted and at our side right this moment, as a Kingsling." His dark hair reflected a reddish-brown as it caught the light of the blinding snow. Dark-colored eyes were pinned on the young man.
Gana Ursa's silvery white hair and lean white mare blended her in the white mountains behind them in a curious way. Her dark gray cloak, sewn with silver and gold thread, embroidered with a lilac sigil of the constellation Ursa Major on the back, was draped over her shoulders. Her eyes were the same lilac, shining off in a dazzling beauty. Her flowing hair was down to her waist, a single, thin braid running down the middle. As the only daughter of the king's right hand, she was both highborn and attractive, at the age of sixteen.
"Destiny is chosen by yourself," She said, and Rellian showed her the whites of his eyes. She didn't mind, or didn't care. Rellian took up the conversation. "Look at the whole board. If he becomes knight, which he has now accomplished, I become the new Kingsling. I'll be crowned with an honor I do not want to deal with."
Thinking Xavion wasn't listening, Rellian glanced at his brother's direction. Xavion looked away quickly and pretended to fumble with the reins.
"And if I step down, I don't know what Xavi would do."
Both Gana and Rellian quieted. Xavion felt a pang of disappointment. At long last, Rellian waved for Gana to follow. He spurred his mount to a trot, after Father, who was riding alongside the newly knighted Lance. The Hand's daughter urged her mare to a canter. Just like that, the two were off and racing into the forest, towards the mountains. Together.
Xavion was listening the whole time. He was about to follow when a hand was placed on his shoulder, and he turned. "Master Lionwin," He said politely to the figure behind him. The man smiled and started forwards. "Let us talk and ride, shall we?"
They rode together, quietly. The freezing cold subsided slightly the closer they got to the mountains, where more and more torches were placed. Xavion took off his hood, showing off his slightly-messy hair.
"Do you agree with your brother's choice?" Asked Master Lionwin after a long moment of silence. Xavion shrugged one shoulder. His dark emerald cloak shifted. "The choice is his." He said truthfully. Then, realizing this might not be the answer the Master wanted, he added, "But I don't exactly like his decision."
In truth, Xavion was terrified. With his eldest brother knighted, Rellian not willing to take the throne, the title of King of the Realm might be pushed to his head.
He let none of that, however, show on his face.
The Master smiled, but said nothing much for the rest of the while.
Unable to bear with the slightly awkward silence, Xavion decided to speak. "What do you think of my brother's choice?" He asked the Master. Lionwin glanced around for a moment. Xavion felt like he had just struck the nail on the head. "I'm not supposed to say this, Xavi," he said, his voice kept light. "Keep it quiet, okay?"
Xavion sat taller on his mare. "You can trust me." He promised solemnly. Lionwin laughed, relaxing, and Xavion smiled slightly. "Alright, young prince. I daresay that the Creators are speaking. Lance, or should I say Ser Lance, has made a grave mistake. However, what has been decided couldn't be undecided."
Xavion pondered that. "But if the Creators are unhappy with us, shouldn't we do as they please? I'm sure Father would make Lance step down if you insisted." Xavion offered, but he saw Lionwin shaking his head. The Master never seemed to truly agree with anyone, to Xavion's confusion.
"We are humans, people," said the Master. "We could create our own lives. The Creators are powerful, good. But they have no creativity, rather ironically. They could only repeat histories, repeat their lives. But it is us humans who could change the pattern, break the rules. Make a unique living."
"A unique living, you say?" Xavion's hands were cold. His back drenched in sweat, and the thick furs clung to his back. Up ahead, he could see the Seinja Mountains. Tall towers stuck like blades of gray grass atop the mountain's peaks. Banners of different colors and shapes circled them. The topmost three, wrapped in gold and obsidian scarves, were their destinations, the First Ring Towers.
"A unique living," Lionwin said firmly. "The Creators are foolish to even try keeping us in line."
That shocked Xavion as much as he saw a small stableboy telling his master he didn't want to be paid anymore. "You are a Master," he said. "Shouldn't you be speaking for the Creators?"
Lionwin merely laughed, but said no more as they ascended the mountain.
From below, the mountain was even taller and grander than any king has ever been. Xavion felt like all the air was taken away from him as he gazed up at the mountain. At that moment, all thoughts of mistake and a unique living are gone from his head. Bare trees were scattered everywhere, giving the gray mountain a different color of dull beige. Further up, a soft, cold blanket of snow was lain upon the sharp peaks of the mountain. An eagle screeched from far above. A cold drop of dew fell on top of his head, clear as a crystal. Snapping back to reality, Xaion heard the clatter of armor.
A knight in iron strode up to them. "Your Grace," he said in a gruff voice, bowing low to the king. Xavion watched as his father allowed the man to rise. "Are the lifts ready?" He asked, not unkindly. The knight nodded and led them into the tunnel of the mountain.
Personally designed by Rygor, the greatest architect of the centuries to come, and built by his best friend, Ion the sorcerer, a tunnel ran through the mountain that ends at the riverbank of the Sister's Weep. Fifty feet tall and just as wide, the tunnel stretches a league long. Along the sides, stands with fruit and jerky, jewelry, sometimes trained crows in cages are set neatly for so long. Merchants yell and holler as people bustle and jostle around. Torches flicker for eternity. In the middle of the tunnel, a team of three-inch thick iron chains, fifty in all and forged in the hands and fires of the greatest blacksmiths, carry a large cage-like room, enough to obtain ten horses and their riders. The chains reach up through the middle of the mountain, through another tunnel straight up and down. At the sides of the tunnel as the cage is being pulled up, caves were forged that lead into the tall towers at the sides of the mountain. The topmost one simply opens up above one's head, straight at the sky and to a beautiful platform, where it was said the greatest knights had met their ladies.
The whole mountain was like a kingdom, a kingdom surrounded by endless water source and game to hunt. It was carefully chosen by many worthy men a thousand years ago.
The king, the newly knighted Lance, Rellian, Gana, and lastly Xavion were the first to ride the cage, with the King's first knights. As they were pulled up to the topmost tower, Xavion peered through the protective bars of the cage every time they passed another hollow. Ring Five, Four, Three, Two... each grander and more delicately designed than the other.
At long last, they were lifted to the Central Tower of the three First Ring towers. The knights had gotten off at the Second Ring tower a while ago. Gana waved them farewell; she was to get off at the West Tower.
Xavion and the rest were greeted immediately by a few maids carrying new, freshly washed clothes and warm towels. Stableboys saw to their horses. He gave his cloak to one of the maids and pulled on a light silk tunic, then washed the traces of snow and cold from his face.
"Your Grace," A maid said, bowing low to Father. "Your supper is ready for you at the Hall." Then she backed off with the other maids, still bowed, until they finally stood and hurried into separate rooms along the corridor.
Rellian gave Lance a punch on the shoulder. "Your first supper as a knight." He said without much enthusiasm, but Lance didn't mind. He never seemed to mind much. "Yes, I hope the others would accept a former Kingsling among them."
His light blond hair reflected the light of the torches and the tall windows. Dark umber eyes, the same shade as Rellian's, were solemn and serious, a look that seemed almost strange to him, as he was commonly more easygoing. Looking at his brother, Xavion swallowed slowly.
Father smiled. "Your mother will be waiting." His cloak fluttered at his ankles, his face lit and seemed a few years younger. Just looking up at his father brought Xavion a sense of pride.
The king walked ahead, through the corridor, through the heart of the tower, where different paths, corridors, and spiraling staircases branch out from the breathtakingly massive room. All the other towers eventually lead here. The largest path leads to the Hall, which, curiously, isn't quite a hall at all; more of like another room, for meetings and meals to take place.
At the end of the room, behind many, many rows of long wooden tables, on a high stone slab, stood the king's table. The middle seat was empty, waiting for its owner, but the one on the right and left were taken. The king's right Hand, his most trusted adviser, Jame Ursa, was sipping from a bowl a sweet corn soup, chatting away with a knight. Further right, Master Lionwin had been seated and had just torn off the leg of a roasted honeyed turkey. But Xavion only had eyes for the seat on the left.
"Addisyn," Father said to his Queen as he sat down on his throne. Queen Addisyn took his hand. "You're late again, Cy." She chided as a maid brought forward a rice cake, bathed with sweet summer wine. In the cold days of early winter, it was a tantalizing dish. The king accepted it as Xavion and Rellian each found their seats to the left of their mother. Rellian yelled for a roasted steak with barley and turnip soup, which was brought forward in no time, but Xavion's attention was drawn to the man with the sweeping purple cloak who just entered the Hall.
The Hall quieted, and Father stood. "Mikin," he greeted him with open arms. The man's smile was tremendous. "Cyrus, long time no see!"
Under the eyes of two hundred men and women, Lord Mikin strode up to the table. A chair was brought forward, next to the king.
Xavion felt rather than see Rellian tense. The second Kingsling looked over at the first, and he saw his brother's knife stopped in midair. He didn't like Lord Mikin, he knew. Ever since the man persuaded his best friend, the king himself, to pass the law of Kingslings allowed knights. Lance stepped down to be a knight the moment the law was passed.
Xavion tried his best to enjoy the porkchop and mashed potatoes brought in front of him. He brought the streaming meat to his lips and took a bite, then took a sip of sweet and sour cranberry juice. Then he pushed the plate away.
A soft nudge on his boot made him look down and smile. His black fox, Abyss, looked up at him with those too-intelligent eyes. And maybe a little hungry. Xavion smiled and picked up the plate of steak, and placed the whole thing on the ground. The fox nuzzled him affectionately before wolfing down the steak.
Then Xavion returned to the guests in front of him.