Chapter 196: The City That Watches
The first day on the road to Aurelia taught Kael that eight knight candidates became much quieter once Blackwood disappeared behind them.
Victor lasted the longest.
Nearly two hours.
Then even he stopped making jokes.
The Black Dragon Banner moved above the lead wagon as the column followed the eastern road through rolling farmland.
Kael rode near the center.
Sir Darius Valen remained beside him.
Ahead, Damien Ravenmoor carried the banner.
Leon Ashford rode near the equipment wagon.
Marcus Wintermere had spent most of the morning watching every traveler they passed.
Elias Thorn watched the road itself.
Victor watched everything.
Mira Solenne rode alone when she could.
Brennar Holt occasionally moved forward to speak with Damien.
Edric Vale remained beside the small group of House Varrow retainers who had joined the road outside Blackwood.
Not servants this time.
Two armed riders.
Kael noticed immediately.
Darius did too.
Kael glanced toward him.
House Varrow sent guards.
Darius nodded.
Expected.
Why now?
Aurelia.
Kael waited.
Darius continued.
In Blackwood, Edric was one candidate among eight.
In Aurelia, he represents his House.
Image matters more.
Kael looked toward the two men.
Silver fox badges.
Matching cloaks.
Good horses.
Expensive enough to be noticed.
Edric himself had changed as well.
He still wore his blue armor, but there was nothing careless about it now.
His hair was tied properly.
House insignia polished.
Even the way he sat on the horse looked more formal.
Kael thought about his own clothing.
Black and silver travel coat.
Dragon clasp.
No crown.
No ceremonial mantle.
Lily had tried.
Kael had won.
Barely.
She rode in the first carriage beside Edwin Ashcombe.
Hugo Stone sat in the equipment wagon with more tools than Kael thought any one blacksmith needed for a three-day journey.
Registrar Elric Dane had claimed the second carriage almost entirely for paperwork.
Sir Corren Valehart rode beside it.
Tomas Pell followed.
Sir Maelin Ors preferred horseback and had spent half the morning correcting the riding posture of anyone unlucky enough to pass close to her.
Victor had learned quickly.
Kael looked toward the road ahead.
How many candidates actually reach Aurelia every major examination?
Darius answered.
Depends on the year.
Hundreds.
How many pass?
Not enough.
Kael looked at him.
That sounds intentionally vague.
It is.
Why?
Because the Empire does not set a number.
Kael frowned.
No quota?
No.
If three hundred deserve knighthood, three hundred can pass.
If forty deserve it, forty pass.
Kael liked that.
Then why do people act like the tournament decides everything?
Because crowds understand winning better than judgment.
That also made sense.
Kael looked toward Marcus.
The young Black Dragon candidate was watching Darius now.
He had heard.
Darius noticed.
Wintermere.
Marcus straightened.
Sir.
Stop listening to conversations that do not involve you.
Marcus looked forward.
Yes, Sir.
Victor rode nearby.
Does that apply to everyone?
Yes.
Victor nodded.
Good to know.
Darius looked at him.
Ravenshade.
Yes, Sir.
Ride farther away.
Victor obeyed.
Kael smiled.
They stopped at midday near a roadside shrine dedicated to travelers.
Not Sanctum.
An older Imperial roadside tradition.
A stone lantern stood beneath an ash tree with dozens of copper ribbons tied around its branches.
Edwin explained while Lily arranged lunch from the travel baskets.
People tie ribbons when beginning long journeys.
Kael looked at the tree.
For luck?
Safe return.
Different.
Some never return.
Kael looked toward Edwin.
You always make traditions darker.
I explain them accurately.
Kael smiled.
Several candidates approached the tree.
Mira tied a ribbon first.
Brennar followed.
Leon.
Then Elias.
Marcus stood several feet away.
Victor looked at him.
You’re not doing it?
Marcus shrugged.
It’s just ribbon.
Victor looked toward the branch.
Then tied one.
Marcus watched.
For someone else?
Victor asked.
My father.
Victor’s expression changed.
Marcus rarely spoke about family.
Kael remembered enough.
Victor’s father had served seventeen years in a lord’s levy.
Returned injured.
Unremembered.
Marcus had his own history, but not one Kael knew fully.
Victor did not ask.
That surprised Kael more.
Victor simply stepped away.
Marcus eventually tied a ribbon too.
No explanation.
Darius stood beside Kael.
You don’t know all of them.
Kael looked over.
I know.
Good.
Kael frowned.
Good?
Darius watched the candidates.
A lord who thinks knowing a soldier’s name means knowing the soldier becomes dangerous.
Names are the beginning.
Not the end.
Kael remembered the remembrance line in the oath.
Record the name.
Remember the service.
But do not pretend a ledger contained a person’s entire life.
He nodded.
Then tied a ribbon of his own.
Darius looked at it.
For Blackwood?
Kael shook his head.
For everyone riding back.
Darius said nothing.
Then tied one beside it.
The second day brought rain.
Not dramatic rain.
Persistent rain.
The kind that made every cloak heavier and every conversation shorter.
The Imperial road improved as they approached Aurelia.
Stone paving replaced packed earth.
Drainage ditches deepened.
Waystations appeared every several miles.
Kael noticed patrols too.
More Imperial soldiers.
Better armor.
More frequent mounted messengers.
And banners.
Not Imperial Dragon banners.
Noble ones.
By midday, they had passed three separate columns traveling toward the capital.
The first carried a red hawk over white.
Brennar recognized it.
House Avenor.
Viscount’s household.
Kael looked at him.
Which Viscount?
Viscountess Mariel Avenor.
Brennar answered.
Western grain country.
Good cavalry.
Terrible roads.
Kael smiled.
You know her?
Met her twice.
Personality?
Brennar considered.
Polite until you waste her time.
Then?
Still polite.
That sounded more dangerous.
Brennar nodded.
It is.
Kael looked toward the column.
At its center rode a woman in a crimson riding coat, perhaps early forties, dark blond hair hidden beneath a traveling hood.
Three knight candidates rode behind her.
One carried a curved saber.
One a spear.
One a sword.
The Viscountess’s carriage passed close enough that she saw Kael’s banner.
Her eyes moved toward Darius.
Stopped.
Then toward Kael.
Recognition followed.
She raised two fingers in formal road greeting.
Kael returned it.
No stopping.
No introduction.
But she had seen him.
And Kael had seen her.
Darius spoke.
Remember House Avenor.
Why?
Because Mariel Avenor controls one of the largest grain corridors west of Aurelia.
Kael immediately thought of Blackwood’s recent grain purchases.
That is useful.
Everything is useful to you now.
Kael looked toward him.
That’s your fault.
Darius ignored him.
The second noble column appeared late afternoon.
Black horses.
Deep green banners.
A silver tower split by a vertical line.
Edwin recognized it.
House Velmire.
Marquis rank.
Kael looked toward him.
Who?
Marquis Oren Velmire.
Northern river estates.
Edwin’s tone changed slightly.
Old family.
Very old.
Personality?
Edwin considered.
He enjoys being underestimated.
That did not sound like praise.
Or criticism.
At the head of the column rode a man perhaps sixty, narrow-faced, silver-haired, wearing no visible armor.
His green coat was simple enough to look almost modest.
Almost.
The horse beneath him probably cost more than half of Blackwood’s central market.
Beside him rode a younger woman in dark riding leathers.
Kael looked toward Edwin.
Daughter?
Niece.
Lady Ilse Velmire.
Widowed.
No children.
Manages two of the Marquis’s river ports.
Kael looked closer.
She carried no sword.
Only a short bow and a ledger case strapped beside her saddle.
Interesting.
Not everyone powerful needed armor.
Marquis Oren noticed Darius.
Unlike Viscountess Avenor, he ordered his column to slow.
Kael sighed.
Darius looked at him.
Political road encounter.
Yes.
Enjoy.
I won’t.
The Marquis stopped his horse.
Lord Kael Asterion.
Kael inclined his head.
Marquis Velmire.
The older man’s eyes sharpened.
You remember me?
Edwin remembered you.
Honest.
Marquis Oren smiled.
Edwin Ashcombe still serves you?
Yes.
Then you inherited at least one good thing.
Kael liked him slightly less.
Darius’s expression did not change.
The Marquis looked toward him.
Sir Darius.
Marquis.
I heard you were training candidates again.
Darius answered.
Preparing.
The Registry examines.
Technical distinction.
Important distinction.
The Marquis smiled.
His gaze moved toward Damien’s Black Dragon Banner.
Five under House Kael?
Kael nodded.
Five.
And three others traveling with you.
Yes.
Marquis Oren looked toward Edric.
House Varrow.
Then Mira.
Independent.
Then Brennar.
Provincial.
He recognized affiliations quickly.
Kael filed that away.
The Marquis looked back.
Aurelia will be lively.
Kael smiled faintly.
I’m beginning to suspect that.
The Marquis laughed softly.
Your first major Examination as a sponsoring lord?
Yes.
Then advice.
Kael waited.
Do not watch only who wins.
Kael glanced toward Darius.
Everyone tells me that.
Then everyone is unusually wise this season.
The Marquis’s expression sharpened.
Watch who nobles speak to after a loss.
Kael looked back at him.
Why?
Anyone approaches a champion.
The interesting people are the ones powerful Houses approach after they lose.
That was useful.
Very useful.
Kael nodded.
Thank you.
Marquis Oren gave another small smile.
Perhaps Blackwood is worth visiting someday.
Kael answered.
Bring grain.
The Marquis laughed.
Loudly this time.
Then his column moved on.
Darius waited until they were gone.
That was not bad.
Kael looked at him.
From you that is practically worship.
Sir Maelin, riding behind them, laughed.
Darius looked displeased.
Kael felt better.
They camped that night at an Imperial waystation large enough to hold several noble parties.
That became Kael’s first real taste of what Aurelia would be like.
Banners everywhere.
People he did not know judging people he barely knew.
One dining hall served everyone of recognized rank.
Not equally.
But together enough to create problems.
Kael entered with Darius, Lily, Edwin, and the candidates.
Conversation shifted.
Not stopped.
Shifted.
Darius caused the first reaction.
Kael caused the second.
The Black Dragon emblem caused the third.
He noticed.
So did Lily.
She leaned closer.
They’re looking at the candidates.
Some.
At Grom’s absence?
Kael shook his head.
At us.
At what Blackwood brought.
A table near the hearth held three young men wearing the golden stag of a Count’s House.
Another table held a female spear candidate beneath a black banner marked by a silver crescent.
Mira recognized it.
House Serrane.
Kael looked toward her.
Count?
Countess.
Countess Aveline Serrane.
She owns three hill fortresses south of Aurelia.
Mira took a seat.
Also sponsors better food than this.
Lily looked at the stew.
You’ve eaten at her estate?
Guild escort contract.
Twice.
Kael looked toward Darius.
Why does everyone know nobles except me?
Because you spent years avoiding them.
Fair.
Mira continued.
Countess Serrane is difficult.
How?
She remembers insults.
How long?
Mira took a bite.
Longer than debts.
Good to know.
Across the hall, a woman in her late thirties sat beneath the crescent banner.
Short black hair.
Dark blue coat over silver mail.
One leg crossed over the other.
No husband beside her.
No need for one.
Two candidates sat with her.
One female spear fighter.
One massive shield user.
Countess Aveline looked directly at Kael.
Then at Darius.
She lifted her cup.
Kael returned the gesture.
Another name.
Another House.
One at a time.
That was better than twenty nobles entering one room and becoming wallpaper.
Victor returned from getting bread with news.
There is a Duke here.
Kael looked at him.
That sentence sounded like a child spotting a dragon.
Victor sat.
Huge party.
White lion banner.
Edwin’s expression changed.
Duke Renald Carthain.
Kael looked toward him.
Good or bad?
Powerful.
That did not answer.
Edwin continued.
Eastern estates.
One of the Empire’s largest private military households.
Kael’s attention sharpened.
Political alignment?
Traditionally Imperial Throne first.
Recently?
Edwin hesitated.
His eldest son has served under Prince Cassian.
There it was.
Not direct loyalty.
Connection.
Darius added.
Duke Renald rarely declares support early.
Which means?
He wants to stand beside whoever wins.
Kael understood.
Useful.
Dangerous.
Probably both.
Victor pointed toward the hall entrance.
That him?
Duke Renald Carthain entered with enough presence that Kael did not need confirmation.
Mid-fifties.
Tall.
Heavy shoulders.
Dark skin.
Close-shaved gray hair.
White military coat with a golden chain.
No weapon visible.
Behind him came two sons, one daughter, several knights, and five examination candidates.
Five.
The Duke looked at no one while entering.
People looked at him.
That told Kael enough.
Then Renald saw Darius.
He changed direction immediately.
Of course.
Kael sighed.
Victor whispered.
Everyone knows him.
Kael replied quietly.
Apparently.
The Duke stopped at their table.
Sir Darius Valen.
Duke Carthain.
You still refuse to age properly.
Darius answered.
You do enough for both of us.
Victor choked.
Kael lowered his head.
The Duke stared at Darius.
Then laughed.
Good.
Not offended.
Interesting.
Renald turned toward Kael.
Tenth Prince.
Kael stood.
Duke Carthain.
You have grown.
Kael smiled faintly.
That tends to happen.
The Duke studied him.
Then the Black Dragon candidates.
These are yours?
They are Blackwood’s candidates.
A subtle distinction.
Kael let it stand.
The Duke looked at Damien.
Spear.
Then Leon.
Sword.
Marcus.
Sword.
Victor.
Sword.
Elias.
Sword.
Kael noticed.
Duke Renald categorized them instantly.
He looked toward Darius.
Any champions?
Darius answered.
Ask me after the final.
Renald smiled.
Still stingy with predictions.
Predictions create fools.
The Duke nodded.
Then looked at Kael.
My House brings five.
Kael glanced toward them.
Two swordsmen.
One spearwoman.
One Guardian carrying a shield wider than Kael’s torso.
One young man with a sword and faint magical pressure around him.
Magic Swordsman.
Kael noticed immediately.
So did Darius.
The Duke saw Kael looking.
My nephew.
Rhydan Carthain.
Twenty-four.
Kael looked toward the young man.
Brown skin.
Short braided hair.
Silver-white armor.
Longsword.
Calm expression.
The faint mana around him felt like Wind.
Not powerful enough for Kael to measure precisely.
Enough to recognize.
Kael nodded.
Magic Swordsman.
The Duke’s eyebrow rose.
You noticed.
Kael smiled.
I am one.
The Duke’s attention changed.
That had not been common knowledge in every noble circle.
Yet.
Rhydan looked at Kael properly for the first time.
Interest.
Not hostility.
Not admiration.
Comparison.
Darius noticed everything.
The Duke smiled.
Then perhaps the Coliseum will be more interesting than expected.
Kael shook his head.
I’m not competing.
Renald laughed.
I wasn’t talking about you.
He looked toward Kael’s candidates.
Kael did not like how much that sounded like a challenge.
Duke Renald moved to his table.
Victor watched him leave.
I already dislike his nephew.
Kael looked at him.
He hasn’t spoken.
Exactly.
Marcus looked toward Rhydan too.
His expression held something else.
Competition.
Darius noticed.
Wintermere.
Marcus looked over.
Sir.
Eat.
Marcus looked back at his plate.
Yes, Sir.
The third day brought Aurelia.
Not gradually.
The road crested a long hill shortly before noon.
Then the Imperial Capital filled the horizon.
Kael had seen it before.
Still, Blackwood had changed the way he looked at cities.
Aurelia’s enchanted white walls stretched across the land like a mountain built by hands.
Golden Imperial Dragon banners moved above towers.
Roads converged from every direction.
Caravans.
Military columns.
Noble parties.
Pilgrims.
Merchants.
Airships floated above distant docks, their vast bodies carried by wind crystals and reinforced frames.
Beyond the walls rose towers, palace spires, Guild halls, noble estates, temples, military complexes.
And near the eastern ceremonial district—
The Coliseum.
Even from outside the city, it was enormous.
White stone.
Tiered outer walls.
Imperial Dragon statues above the major gates.
Colored banners already hanging from its upper arches.
Victor stared.
Oh.
Marcus leaned forward.
Leon said nothing.
Elias stopped checking the road.
Even Damien looked impressed.
Mira smiled.
First time?
Victor nodded.
Mira looked toward the Coliseum.
Wait until you’re inside.
Kael rode beside Darius.
You fought there.
Yes.
Still going to pretend that’s not impressive?
Yes.
Kael shook his head.
Impossible man.
Darius looked toward the city.
Focus.
Kael’s humor faded.
Because the closer they came, the more banners appeared.
House banners.
Imperial heir banners.
Cassian’s colors.
Seraphine’s.
Elena’s.
Other Asterion House standards.
Noble crests.
Provincial military insignia.
Independent candidate banners.
Aurelia had already turned the Knight Examination into a display of power.
Every House showing whom it had trained.
Whom it sponsored.
Whom it hoped to claim.
Kael looked toward the Black Dragon Banner.
One banner among hundreds.
That was good.
It reminded him where Blackwood actually stood.
Growing.
Not great.
Not yet.
They passed through Aurelia’s eastern gate after nearly an hour of inspection.
Kael’s status shortened some procedures.
Darius’s status shortened more.
The city inside was worse.
Or better.
Depending on whether someone enjoyed crowds.
Streets wide enough for six wagons abreast were packed.
Vendors sold ribbons in noble colors.
Children carried wooden practice swords.
Temporary boards displayed examination notices.
Betting was technically restricted.
Which meant everyone was doing it less openly.
Victor spotted one board.
I’m twenty-seven to one.
Kael turned.
What?
Victor pointed.
Someone is taking bets on candidates.
Darius’s expression became lethal.
Victor immediately added.
I did not bet.
Good.
Marcus looked.
Am I listed?
Darius turned.
No one looks at the board.
Everyone looked away.
Kael tried not to laugh.
Lily spoke from the carriage window.
My lord.
Kael rode closer.
What?
Look.
She pointed.
Kael followed.
A massive ceremonial banner hung across one avenue.
Gold lettering.
IMPERIAL KNIGHT EXAMINATION
Below it:
THE EMPIRE HONORS THOSE WHO EARN THE SWORD
Victor read it.
Dramatic.
Sir Corren replied.
The Registry did not write that.
Elric Dane called from the carriage.
Absolutely not.
Kael smiled.
Then the street opened.
And the Coliseum stood ahead.
Up close, it made Blackwood’s Guild headquarters look like a shed.
Kael counted levels.
Lost count.
Statues of past knights and military champions stood along the entrance avenue.
Some held swords.
Some spears.
Some shields.
A central statue represented no individual.
A kneeling warrior receiving a sword from an Imperial hand.
The symbolism was obvious.
Beyond the statues, hundreds of candidates stood in registration lines.
Thousands of attendants moved around them.
House retainers.
Registry clerks.
Weapon inspectors.
Healers.
Stable workers.
Noble servants.
Military guards.
Spectators already attempting to enter restricted areas.
Kael stopped his horse.
Victor stopped beside him.
We trained in Blackwood for this?
Darius answered.
Yes.
Victor looked at the crowds.
You could have warned us.
Would it have changed anything?
Victor thought.
I would have complained earlier.
Darius continued riding.
The Knight Registry Annex occupied an entire building beside the Coliseum.
Not a room.
A building.
Elric Dane looked happier the moment he entered it.
Kael found that disturbing.
Clerks moved everywhere.
Candidate names were checked against sponsorship ledgers.
Weapons tagged.
Armor inspected.
Medical records reviewed.
Combat classifications assigned.
Kael’s eight travelers entered separate registration queues.
Blackwood’s five remained under House Kael sponsorship.
Mira under independent sponsorship recognized through Rivergate Guild and Registry recommendation.
Brennar under provincial military authority.
Edric under House Varrow.
Kael stayed long enough to watch Damien step forward.
Name?
The clerk asked.
Damien Ravenmoor.
Sponsoring authority?
House Kael.
Combat classification?
Spear.
Aura?
Yes.
Rank?
Candidate estimate?
Damien looked toward Darius.
Darius did not answer for him.
Damien replied.
Knight-level manifestation.
Precision-focused.
The clerk wrote.
Prior military service?
Black Dragon.
Position?
Soldier.
Leadership duties?
Rotating patrol command.
The clerk looked up.
Household knight oath intended?
Damien paused.
Kael noticed.
He could have said yes.
Instead:
Undecided until after examination.
Darius’s expression changed slightly.
Approval.
Kael felt something too.
Not disappointment.
Pride, perhaps.
Because Damien had listened.
The oath would come after he had choices.
Good.
The clerk stamped his paperwork.
Next.
Leon stepped forward.
Marcus’s Aura evaluation attracted attention.
Not because he did anything dramatic.
Because the measuring crystal reacted strongly.
The clerk looked up.
Again.
Marcus placed his hand against it.
Aura flowed.
Controlled.
The crystal brightened.
Not explosively.
Deeply.
An inspector approached.
Raw reserve?
High.
Control?
Moderate.
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
Darius stood several feet away.
The inspector looked at him.
Blackwood training?
Yes.
The inspector nodded.
Then at Marcus.
Potential strong.
Do not waste it.
Marcus answered.
Yes, Sir.
The inspector was not a knight.
Marcus corrected himself.
Apologies.
The man smiled.
You’ll survive Aurelia.
Maybe.
Kael noticed several candidates nearby watching Marcus afterward.
He had become visible.
That was the beginning.
Victor’s registration was less impressive.
Until the clerk reached prior examination history.
Previous formal Knight Examination?
No.
Prior preliminary failure?
Victor looked toward Darius.
Does that count?
Darius answered.
Yes.
Victor sighed.
Yes.
Reason?
Victor became quieter.
Abandoned simulated casualty while pursuing target.
The clerk looked up.
Current sponsor still recommends you?
Victor glanced toward Darius.
Darius answered.
He is not formally endorsed yet.
The clerk’s eyebrow rose.
Then why is he here?
Darius looked directly at Victor.
To earn it.
Victor straightened.
The clerk studied him.
Then stamped the form.
Good answer.
Victor smiled.
Darius spoke.
He didn’t give it.
Victor’s smile disappeared.
Kael laughed.
Elias received questions about combat style.
Sword.
Aura?
Yes.
Control?
Developing.
Specialty?
Elias paused.
Observation.
The clerk looked confused.
That is not a combat specialty.
Sir Maelin, passing nearby, said.
Write adaptive defense.
Elias looked toward her.
Sir?
You watch before committing.
Not always correctly.
But enough.
The clerk wrote it.
Elias looked at the words.
Adaptive defense.
Kael noticed he liked them.
Maybe because someone had finally named something he did naturally.
Leon passed registration with almost no problem.
That somehow fit him.
Clean records.
Standard sword.
Reliable Aura.
Black Dragon service.
No disciplinary history.
Prior preliminary endorsement from Sir Darius.
The clerk checked that twice.
Then looked at Leon.
You received direct preliminary endorsement from Sir Darius Valen?
Yes.
The clerk looked toward Darius.
Darius was speaking with Elric across the hall.
The clerk’s posture changed.
Leon noticed.
He seemed uncomfortable.
Kael understood why.
Darius’s name now created expectations.
That could become pressure.
Leon finished registration and walked away quietly.
Kael stopped him.
You all right?
Yes, my lord.
You looked annoyed.
Leon hesitated.
They changed when they read his name.
Darius?
Yes.
Kael nodded.
They’ll do that a lot.
Leon looked toward the Coliseum through the open archway.
Then I’d better make sure they remember mine afterward.
Kael smiled.
Good answer.
Leon smiled back.
Then returned to the group.
The final candidate count appeared shortly before sunset.
Not three hundred eighty-six.
Four hundred and twelve.
Registrar Elric read the board twice.
Sir Corren whistled.
Sir Maelin crossed her arms.
Darius stared.
Kael looked at the number.
Four hundred twelve.
How many reach the tournament bracket?
Elric answered.
Depends on division.
The Swordsman/Knight field is largest.
Current preliminary bracket target: sixty-four.
Marcus looked over.
Sixty-four?
Elric nodded.
Single elimination.
Round of sixty-four.
Thirty-two.
Sixteen.
Quarterfinal.
Semifinal.
Final.
Victor counted quietly.
Six wins to become champion.
If you reach that bracket.
Sir Maelin corrected.
That killed some excitement.
Other divisions smaller.
Spear/Lancer projected thirty-two.
Guardian/Heavy sixteen or thirty-two depending final qualifiers.
Magic Swordsman currently sixteen.
Kael looked up.
Sixteen?
Elric nodded.
True Magic Swordsmen remain rare.
Kael’s attention moved across the registration hall.
Sixteen candidates.
That was enough to matter.
Not enough to disappear into a crowd.
Duke Carthain’s nephew Rhydan would almost certainly be one.
Kael wondered who the others were.
Sir Corren looked at Darius.
Your old division had thirty-two.
Yes.
Sixteen should be pleasant.
Darius stared at him.
Corren smiled.
Kael liked Sir Corren more every day.
Then the hall changed.
Not loudly.
People simply began moving toward the windows.
Candidates.
Clerks.
Knights.
Even Elric looked up from his records.
Kael frowned.
What?
Sir Maelin looked toward the Coliseum avenue.
They’re arriving.
Who?
Darius already knew.
The Shields.
Kael’s attention sharpened.
Outside, an Imperial horn sounded.
Once.
Then again.
Not the Emperor’s full arrival call.
Military honor.
The avenue cleared.
Candidates pressed toward the railings.
Nobles stepped onto balconies.
Kael moved outside with Darius.
The first standard appeared at the end of the road.
Black.
Silver.
A sword beneath an Imperial Dragon.
Darius did not react.
Kael looked at him.
Yours?
No.
Then the rider appeared.
A woman.
Tall.
Late thirties perhaps.
Dark bronze skin.
Long black hair bound beneath a silver battle circlet.
No sword.
A staff rested across her saddle.
White-blue crystals floated around its head without visible supports.
Her armor was deep midnight blue beneath a mantle carrying Cassian Asterion’s insignia.
Mana rolled around her so quietly Kael almost missed how immense it was.
The crowd did not.
Candidates whispered.
Some bowed.
Kael felt the pressure even at distance.
Sir Corren spoke quietly.
Imperial Shield.
Lady Seris Vaelor.
Kael looked at him.
Cassian’s mage.
Yes.
One of the Four.
Seris rode beneath the Coliseum arch.
No smile.
No wave.
Her eyes moved across the candidate crowd like she was already evaluating weaknesses.
Behind her came Cassian’s household knights.
And farther down the avenue—
Another horn.
Another standard.
Kael saw gold.
Imperial red.
This one bore the Emperor’s personal Dragon.
Darius’s expression changed.
Slightly.
Kael noticed.
Who’s next?
Darius answered.
The Emperor’s Shield.
A broad rider appeared beneath the Imperial banner.
Older.
Perhaps nearing sixty.
Shaved head.
Dark red cloak.
Heavy straight sword across his back.
His face carried several pale scars.
Unlike Seris Vaelor, his presence was not magical.
It was physical.
The kind of man whose stillness made the people around him move carefully.
Sir Maelin spoke.
Sir Garran Holtane.
Kael frowned.
Holtane.
Not Brennar Holt.
Different.
Good.
Kael had become suspicious of similar names.
Sir Garran passed beneath the gate.
Then looked toward Darius.
Even across the avenue, he saw him.
He raised one fist.
Darius returned the gesture.
Old familiarity.
Not warmth exactly.
Respect.
Kael smiled faintly.
Two.
Darius looked toward the avenue.
Wait.
The third horn sounded.
This standard was crimson and white.
Elegant.
Sharper.
The Empress’s colors woven into an Imperial military design.
The rider beneath it was a woman.
Kael had expected that possibility.
He had not expected her to look so young.
Perhaps early thirties.
Pale brown skin.
Silver-blond hair.
A narrow red cloak over white plate.
Long spear upright beside her.
Her face was beautiful in a way that immediately felt unfriendly.
She carried herself with perfect posture.
The soldiers behind her wore another House mark beneath Imperial insignia.
Kael did not recognize it.
Sir Corren answered before he asked.
Sir Calista Veyne.
Fourth Imperial Shield.
Currently sworn to Princess Seraphine’s household under authority transferred from the Empress.
Kael’s expression hardened.
Seraphine.
Yes.
Calista rode past the crowd.
Then her eyes found Darius.
She smiled.
Not warmly.
Darius did not smile at all.
Interesting.
Kael looked between them.
History?
Darius answered.
Later.
That meant yes.
The three Shields entered the Coliseum avenue.
Darius stood outside the Registry Annex.
Fourth.
Not arriving.
Already there.
Victor appeared behind Kael.
Sir Darius.
Darius looked back.
Victor stared at the three legendary figures disappearing through the Coliseum gate.
Then at Darius.
All four of you are judging us?
Yes.
Victor’s face changed.
I would like to return to Blackwood.
No.
Worth asking.
Marcus stepped outside next.
Then Damien.
Leon.
Elias.
Mira.
Brennar.
Edric.
All watching.
All understanding.
This was no longer preliminary training.
No wooden chickens.
No pretend merchants.
No village exercises controlled by people who knew them.
Four hundred twelve candidates had come to Aurelia.
Four Imperial Shields would oversee them.
The Imperial family would watch.
Noble Houses would scout.
The Coliseum brackets waited.
And somewhere inside that enormous arena, the Empire would decide who had earned the right to carry Sir before their name.
Kael looked toward the three departing Shields.
Then toward Darius.
Your old friends seem pleasant.
Darius’s expression remained flat.
They are not.
Kael smiled.
Good.
This was going to be interesting.