Reborn From the Cosmos

Miniarc-Villains-02

There were two ways to become a knight, the most common method of joining a knight order or receiving the title for the crown. Any higher noble, those above the middling rank of viscount, could establish an order. The nobles funded the order, providing equipment and training for its members. In return, the knights served the family; sometimes, they were a private security force while other times their duties carried to every corner of their lord’s territory.

A lesser known caveat of the arrangement was that the noble also chose the doctrine that the knights followed. They weren’t always about honor and chivalry. They represented the house behind them; they wore the family’s colors and wielded its authority more often than they did their swords. A noble’s reputation was their livelihood, and that reputation was directly tied to the actions of the men and women they employed. They wanted those men and women to embody their values.

A knight never did anything suspect in public. However, out of their uniforms, their lives were their own. All it took for them to be considered for the job was enough ability to dissuade the commonest of criminals from causing trouble. Rarely did they face true threats.

The royal knights were exceptions.

The Royal Order of Harvest Knights was a throwback to the days when the title sir meant more than the ability to kill something. There was only one way to join their ranks, excellence. It wasn’t enough to be competent; a potential recruit needed both natural talent and the drive to take it to incredible heights.

Most royal knights were chosen from the army; the exceptions were children of previous members who trained from the moment they could hold child-sized training weapons. No soldier with less than ten years of service was considered, nor was any officer that had led less than seven successful campaigns. Long service demonstrated loyalty to the crown or at least the willingness to commit to duty.

They had to be talented fighters, both magically and martially. The character was also scrutinized. Royal knights lived on the palace grounds. They had regular interactions with the royal family. There could be no doubt about their suitably, no flaws in their reputation that could reflect poorly on the crown. Being convicted of a crime took any hopefuls out of the running. An official reprimand was a crippling disadvantage. A royal knight had to be beyond reproach.

The best and the brightest would be given the opportunity to attempt to them. Their final hurdle was their would-be peers. The knights would test the hopefuls, under the direction of their knight-captain. If he found them wanting, they were gone. Not even the king would go against his word.

It was a difficult journey, but the position came with considerable perks, the most subtle being close proximity to the crown. The knights became friends with the heirs. One day, those children who looked up to them would sit on the throne and marry into powerful families. The ability to whisper a word in their ears was priceless.

Their accommodations were comfortable and their access unrivaled. They had standing invitations to every ball and feast. They received a generous salary and their marriage prospects were excellent. Every royal knight had the means to establish a flourishing house whenever they chose to retire.

For their journey, for their means, for what they had the potential to become, the royal knights were universally respected. Samuel was no exception. The second prince didn’t like soldiers in general, but he gave those that protected his bloodline their due. Even the commoners among them.

“Good morning, Sir Reed.”

After finishing his lackluster meal, Samuel wasted no time seeking out the head of his escort. Three royal knights were tasked with seeing him safely across the kingdom, but Ewan Reed was in charge.

Pushing thirty, Ewan was one of the younger knights. He didn’t make for a heroic figure out of his armor; he was on the shorter side with plain features, a weak chin, and short dark hair cut close to his head. A long scar on his cheek gave his face its only character, drawing attention to his light brown eyes.

Samuel knew the man’s story well, as his father had bragged about him the first time Ewan was assigned to him. Anywhere else, Ewan would be considered a rare talent with two basic affinities, earth and water, but he was average amongst the royal knights. What distinguished him was his hard work.

He'd joined the army at the tender age of fifteen to support his widowed mother. As soon as his ten years were done, he received a ridiculous seven recommendations to the knights; every superior that knew him long enough to know his name spoke up for him. He had a reputation for being good-natured, goal-oriented, and dependable. He had talent but he never stopped trying to improve himself.

His drive wasn’t limited to his strength. He worked to improve himself in all areas. Instead of using his gold on luxuries, he paid for tutors. Between studying law and literature, he learned which fork went on what side of a plate and footwork that had nothing to do with fighting. There were rumors that he did poetry readings and dabbled in music. And somehow, while juggling all that, he found time to do good work for the unfortunates of the capital.

Nominating people for sainthood had fallen out of favor, but if it were still a practice, Ewan was the kind of man that would make a perfect candidate.

Samuel imagined that his father paired the two of them together with hopes that Ewan’s relatively close age would allow them to grow close and the knights good qualities would rub off on him. A fanciful notion. How could a prince that had been handed everything in life relate to a man that worked hard for every bite of food that passed his lips? How could a man absorbed in his own problems relate to someone beloved by the masses? It was impossible.

Ewan never faulted him for it. The prince liked to think they got on well, navigating the strange dynamic of a servant more powerful than his master with finesse.

“Your highness.” The knight was talking with a group of soldiers, but he dismissed them once Samuel spoke up. He bowed at the waist, his impeccable form showing his dedication to his studies. “Thank you for coming so quickly. The matter is of some urgency.”

“It better be. I can’t afford another delay.”

“I wouldn’t impose on your time without good reason. The scouts have returned with worrying information. The wall is damaged. I would like to do reconnaissance before proceeding.”

“You’re stalling us because the stone is chipped?”

“No, my prince. I’m saying we should use caution because a section of the wall was destroyed and we have no idea what did it. I don’t want you in the city if there are active dissidents and madmen about.”

Samuel’s thoughts raced. Ewan’s words weren’t without merit; walking into a conflict blind was stupid. It likely had nothing to do with him, but a prince always had a target on his back.

On the other hand, the Hall wouldn’t care about his circumstances. If he didn’t sign up for any classes before the new semester started, he’d simply be out of luck. Worse, the gap in schooling would reflect poorly on him and hurt his chances of getting into good classes the following year would be tarnished.

However, classes meant nothing to a dead man.

Samuel sighed. “How long will it take?”

“If they ride hard and the saints smile on them, they can return in four days.”

“Four—” The prince swallowed the rest of his retort. It had to be done so there was no use complaining. All that would accomplish was creating an embarrassing scene where Ewan pulled rank and told Samuel what would be happening. “Very well. Let me know the moment you have news.”

“Of course. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help you pass the time.”

“…if that is a subtle way of asking me to join your morning drills, I refuse.”

Ewan smiled. He had a great smile, bright and full. It made Samuel feel bad about rejecting him, despite having done it countless times before. “I’ll be here if you change your mind, your highness.”