The Quest For Hope

The Escape: Chapter Four

The morning sunrise burst into the armoury, its ruby rays matching the hot coals. A group of knights gathered around the fire pit, putting the finishing touches on their armour. The air was filled with a multitude of sounds-rhythmic ringing as they hammered out dents, the soft scraping of sword against the stone, and the hiss of steam as cool water dripped onto hot coal. Discontent rose over the commotion. 

 The King's enthusiastic announcement about the change in tournament translated into tedious work and an early morning for the knights. It changed today's event from a simple afternoon tournament to an all-day ceremony with a serious prize. That accounted for the majority of the grumbles.

"It'd be one thing if the king had given us notice to prepare," muttered one of the knights, dripping sweat.

"The king's messenger woke me late last night with the news. That's hardly enough time to get ready or even get most of the bumps out of my breastplate," another knight chimed in as steam hissed around him.

Murmurs of agreement rolled through the small room. The mugginess of the air amplified their agitation.

"What a prize too," the first knight grumbled again. "To win the chance to be the princess's champion and protect her wherever she goes. My loyalty is to the king." He continued sharpening his axe without looking up to see the others nod. Several grunts of agreement sounded from the knights.

"She's not bad, she's just a kid," another said.

"Well, one thing is for sure, whoever wins will be getting a handful." The room burst into laughter.

One knight knelt to the side, refusing to join the conversation.

Quiet and pensive, Jack worked in silence. His dark blue eyes focused on his work. He gave this preparation his full attention, the same way he worked on all his tasks. His calloused hands, rough from work in his armoury and on the battlefield, polished his shield. He unconsciously blew his snow-white hair out of his eyes as the steam and sweat rolled down his forehead. It was Jack's first tournament; he wanted to win. He felt pressure, not only for himself-he needed to make his family proud.

He carefully lifted armour. Originally his grandfather's, it had been refitted specifically for him. Their family crest was etched into the shield and breastplate, indicating their lineage, loyalty, and strength. A staff with a G-shaped arch, resembling a shepherd's crook, with a sword for its stem. The top showcased the emblem of the blue dragon for the Kingdom of Arendelle.

The coals from the nearby fire burned red hot. Every once in a while, a blast of steam shot toward him as the hot steel touched the cool water, setting the mental in place. His reflection in the armour winked back at him. Only a few more dents to go, and he would be ready. His mind wandered into memories while he finished the tedious tasks. 

Nervousness wracked Jack's body as he approached the king. His leather boots scuffed the floor, and his sword jingled at his side against the chainmail. He knelt stiffly on the floor in front of the throne. The king must have sensed his apprehension because he smiled down at him with a rich, warm laugh.

The grand hall overflowed. Villagers from Arendelle and travellers from the nearby territories had come to see the ceremony. Every year, a new batch of apprentices swore their loyalty and devotion to the kingdom, with the hope of becoming a knight. After years of studying training, and serving, it was his turn. With five other boys from the village, Jack waited, feeling the eyes and expectations of the crowd. Sparing a quick glance behind him, he saw pride beaming from his parents and sister. His heart beat wildly waiting for the ceremony to begin.

And then he saw her. For the first time, his heart skipped a beat, and the world slowed down. 

The king spoke of duty, loyalty, and chivalry, all the sacred rites of knighthood, but Jack barely heard. The beauty that stood before him mesmerised him.