The Dreaming
Dec 11, 2013 4:23:34 GMT -5
Post by Kender Bard on Dec 11, 2013 4:23:34 GMT -5
Cobalt Dreams
Cobalt held out a hand to Holiday and steadied her as she walked up the wooden stairs to the noble seats at the tournament grounds. The pair settled into their own box, draped in the colors of their house, and got comfortable. Holiday smiled and scanned the grounds below. "I can't see him," she said after a moment, a small frown creasing her brows.
Cobalt looked as well and then pointed. "There he is," he told his wife with barely concealed excitement. In the distance, Bryant swung his greatsword a few times in practice. Somehow, against the odds, he noticed his parents at the same time and waved to them.
Cobalt chuckled and waved back, Holiday doing so with enough enthusiasm for the both of them as well.
Today was a special day. It was a day of testing for all the young squires and knight-hopefuls that would be competing for positions in the knighthood. Afterwards, there would be another round of fighting amongst the victors to help determine those who could qualify for officer positions. Cobalt had no doubts that his son would secure his place in the knighthood itself, but would he be able to snatch one of those precious few officer positions as well?
The day wore on, refreshments were circulated for noble and peasant spectators alike as the young men fought with one another in bracketed rounds. As predicted, Bryant had managed to win the four times in a row to ensure he would become a knight in the following year, but when he took his fifth win, Cobalt was on the edge of his seat for the matches to come.
Here was where those inclined to gamble placed their betting in earnest. The cream of the crop skirmished with one another for high honor. And Bryant won... and again. And then there he was, fighting in the final round against the only man left standing. Both of them were dog tired, but that was also an important aspect of the tournament. Stamina was a crucial part of a knight's training.
The fighting wasn't quite as energetic as previous matches, and so it came down not to brute strength but skill. This did not detract from the match at all. And when Bryant managed to disarm his opponent, the stands went wild. Cobalt was shouting at the top of his lungs, jumping up and down like a young man. "That's my son! That's my son!!"
Bryant lifted his sword, and the roaring grew deafening. It wasn't until the shouting had died down to a mere noisy that his son spoke up, voice enhanced by his exhausted Wind powers. "I thank you for this honor, this privilege of serving you all in the knighthood. I claim this honor not for myself, but for my father, Lord Cobalt Furinko, who taught me all I know and shaped what I have become today."
Deep pride welled up within Cobalt, tears pricking his eyes. He had done well by his son. Any fears that might have still nagged at him about his capability to be a good father were erased in that moment.