Knights of Trinith (OLD/DISCONTINUED)

Chapter 2: Long Live Winter

A day has passed, all of Winter's Kingdom stood tall in mourning for their fallen monarch. All bore a dreary black hooded cape to keep them warm as the snow flurries down from the slate grey skies. Torches were placed orderly and shadowed over those of the kingdom, snow landing into its bowls and making a soft sizzle in the silence. On the platform in front of the crowd of shadowed civilians, filed as if soldiers, one walked forward and stepped up unto the glass-esque ice stairs, baring a candle that gave the ice an orange transparent tint. Bracing forward, the figure looked up and rose the candle in front of the crowd, making them kneel down.

"By the day of, our lord had fallen to thy pestilence that had took many more previous. He had showed us the kind nature, and the fierce strength, of our great Winter. He bore the weight of each and every one of us in his mighty hands. Our Lord, King Boreas, who thou art in Winter's cold bosom above, may he give us power, love, and piece in his unparalleled nature. As we shall believe in the majesty's on to the next lives again. Winter left thou a next of kin, and so, the tradition of our ancestors shall commence." the Archbishop of the North said with a holy speech.

With the mention of the tradition, the crowd muttered to themselves softly and quietly, scoffing about what the Archbishop had said. Walking forward from the crowd and stepping up the snowy steps next to the Archbishop, beside the Winter Throne, Págos maintained her content sorrow in front of the crowd. The muttering caught her hearing as they noticed who the next of kin was; a princess.

"A woman, as Lord of Winter?"

"What?! Is she mad?!"

"This can't be happening, is the Archbishop jesting us?"

"Silence!" the Bishop spoke up, muffling the crowds distress.

"Now, to all who arrived for this honour, as well as sorrow, bare the Sigil of Winter."

The crowd bent down and carried the snow in their palms in a prayer manner, some followed feverishly.

"When thou bares the Veil of the North, thine shall be Lord of Ice. Ares't this vow be bared unto thy daughter of our great Lord Bareas, who'st passed by sickness?" the Archbishop said with a holy preach.

"I, daughter of Lord Bareas, solemnly vow to bare thy Veil of the North." Págos replied steadily and softly.

As the kingdoms residents watched in dumbfoundation, due to there never being a woman as Lord in all of history, they rose and bore the Confirmation Salute. Placing their dominant hand over their hearts, and the other above them with all five fingers spread out, to signify Winter's presence above, as well as her blood in their veins. Some of the townspeople that were too stubborn hesitated, but soon follow with the intimidating stare from the knights at the borders of the crowd.

"By thy vows, by thine greatness of Winter, and the powers justed in I, I dub thee, Lady of the North." the Archbishop said with a religious tone.

He then revealed a silver blindfold, embroidered with gold and ice, leaving a remarkable shine in the torches blaze surrounding the environment. Holding it above Págos's head, he slowly lowered it across her eyes. Pressing it down softly to keep it at a safe tightness, he then locks the veil on to her. Her eyes had been completely façaded behind the royal metal blindfold, and fit perfectly across her. The Archbishop then handed her a beautiful sword that glistened in the light. Págos's expression had shifted, feeling amazed by the blade's beauty.

"From generations yore, this sword is said to belong to Winter herself. May it be safe in your hands, our first Lady of the North." he said quietly so only Págos could hear.

"It would be my honour, Archbishop." she replied with a faint grin.

The Archbishop bowed to her, as did the crowd that watched the ceremony. Looking over behind her, she sees the the Throne of Winter, standing strong and fitted with the smoothest of leather and the pearliest of ice. Making her way towards it, she sat with the new-found power she has earned. Looking at her people bow before her, she had no choice but to have a smirk, believing her father had watched down with one as well across his face.