The clang of metal on metal rang out. Theron felt a bead of sweat run off his brow, down his cheek and narrowly avoiding his eye.

"That's good! Now see if you can block this one!" A big, giant of a man bellowed. He swung his battle axe horizontally with an unnatural force.

Theron guarded, but the momentum of the axe made sure his tired body could no longer hold out. His sword was thrown from his hands, and was dazed for only a moment before diving for it. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt and began to guard up again, but it was too late. The razor sharp blade of the axe was pointed at his skull with a tall, burly man smirking behind it.

"Okay, okay, I yield." Theron laughed, letting his sword drop to the dirt in defeat.

The axe was pulled back and strapped to the man's back. The muscular man outstretched his hand, helping Theron up.
"You're getting better, Theron. It's almost impossible to call you a pupil anymore, damn near close to my skills." A swift slap to the back in acknowledgment followed.

"I don't know Bjorn, I've got a long ways to go, you're the Kingdom's number one combat instructor for a reason."

Bjorn stroked his beard as he gave it some deep thought. "You know, I think you're right!" His laugh howled around the training yard.

"There was that one move that almost won me the duel you know." Theron teased, playfully punching his shoulder.

Bjorn sent a playful punch right back, almost knocking him back on the ground because it was so strong.
"I'm very proud of the knight you are becoming, Theron. It's been five years since the King first brought you to me, and you still have the same fire inside you as you did then. You're going to surpass me one day, and then you will have to teach me."

Theron hadn't put that too much mind. Every day for the past five years, he's trained from sun up to sun down, learning all there is to know about swordsmanship, alchemy, medicine, and even magic. His father still isn't thrilled about it, not since the day at the stall. He still wants him to come home and put this knight's dream behind him. To be safe.

A sweat bead formed at his hairline and ran down his forehead in an intricate pattern until it reached his brow, where it hugged his skin for some time, until he wiped it free with his forearm. He took a deep breath and looked up towards the sky, covering the sun with his hand.

"You might want to get going and wash up, the King has requested your presence this eve, remember?" Bjorn brought his attention back to the ground.

Theron's eyes widened when he remembered. "Aw man!" He scrambled to hurry out, looking back and forth, thinking of where to put his gear. He finally glanced at Bjorn and gave a soft smile, holding out his sword.

"Just this once I suppose." Bjorn said while taking his sword.

"Thanks Bjorn! You're the best!"

"Are you in a hurry to see the King, or is it someone else you're in a hurry off to see?" Bjorn cracked a grin, cocking an eyebrow in curiosity.

"I- yes! I mean no! The King, most definitely the King." Theron stumbled with his words, his face was bright red. He was taking off his gear one piece at a time as he hopped, skipped and ran to the gate. As he gave a final look back, he saw a trail of training armor leading from Bjorn all the way to himself.

From there, he was able to see the difference in the ground formation. It was a small, insignificant detail, but it held a lot of meaning to him. On the edge of the training ground, there were footprints in the dirt, but the ground looked peaceful and more intact. The center, however, held more scars. The ground was torn and battered, worn and flattened. It was the site of hard training, blood, sweat and tears, as well as the birthplace of his dream. Theron sighed before leaving, but he knew he couldn't be late.

"Good luck! Try not to stumble over your words like you did with me!" Bjorn gave a echoing laugh as Theron shook his head with a smile and hurried off to bathe.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The bathe room was on the opposite side of the training yard, right next to the main path through town. After Theron was done, he knew his time was running thin. He had to hurry out of there while slipping on his shirt. As he ran past the townsfolk, he caught a few women staring, hearing some gasps and "if only he wasn't an elf..." and everything related to gawking you can think of.

He has noticed that since his five years of being here, he has filled out. When he first arrived, a sword was too heavy for his small arms. He was thin, no muscles to speak of. But now, his body has changed into that of a knight. His sleek elf body has morphed into one with defined muscles. Nothing too impressive, but definitely worth the occasional glance back of the women in town. As honored as he was to have them look, he had his sights set on one in particular.

As he neared the castle's front gates, he fixed his hair and the collar of his shirt. The sword hung helplessly off his hip from the belt around his trousers. It was an awkward look out of his training gear or knight armor, but it was customary. The castle guards let him in without trouble this time. For the first few years, they always gave him trouble, thinking he was a slave elf using the wrong entrance.

Even though Theron has been here quite a few times, the inside of the castle never ceases to amaze him. It's all brilliantly lit up, portraits of the King and the Royal family were on the walls, and the magnificent stone statues handcrafted by all the best craftsman from all around the nation of Valleria.

He passed by the room they call the sanctuary, a mass collection of books and scripts the King had acquired. The King has granted him permission to enter and read whatever he likes, so he's a frequent visitor. They have everything from human history to brief Elven history and everything you need to know about magic. They even have books about elven magic, but they're scarce, and most of the ones they do have are missing pages. He had always thought it was weird to have them there with all the important pages missing. That didn't stop him though, he still read as much as he could when he wasn't training.

Finally, the long trek through the castle was over, and he was at the main doors to the primary hall. The doors opened up and revealed a handful of knights, the King's Royal Guard, the King's magician stood behind the thrones, Bjorn was there and, of course, the King and his family sat atop the porcelain steps on their thrones. His heart stopped when his eyes came across her. The Princess. Princess Halea and he are the same age and since being brought up into the King's company, they have spent a lot of time together growing up.

The King, Queen and Princess Halea greeted him with a smile. They treated him as if he were their son they had never had, despite him being an elf. Bjorn sent a solid chest bump his way, and he got the welcoming nods from everyone else in attendance except for one.

Calvis.

Despite being a knight-in-training, Theron hasn't been able to get on Calvis' good side. He still mutters slurs and degrading elf terms with every sneer and disgusted look he sent him. He and his knight buddies always look at him when they cross paths. The tension between them is so strong, the air feels thick. Calvis has made it known that no matter what Theron does, he will always hate him with every fiber of his being.

Not a very Royal Guard-like attitude if you ask him.

"Welcome, young Theron! You're looking healthier than ever." The King shouted, snapping the unsettling glare between them. "Thank you for coming."

Theron got on one knee and lowered his head. "It's a pleasure, your majesty." He glanced up and noticed Princess Halea teasing him. He blushed, of course, hiding his head back down.

"Raise your head, young Theron. Today is a very important day for you." The King stood up and came down the stairs, stopping right in front of him. As Theron lifted his head, the King reached for the sword his helper had laid out in their arms and placed the blade on Theron's shoulder.
"Your hard work and dedication to this kingdom have not gone unnoticed. Bjorn has been keeping me updated on your progress, and he, too, is impressed with how much you've grown. So," The King moved the blade to his other shoulder. "As King of Valleria, I hereby declare Theron be given the title of Knight." The King pulled the blade back and gave it to his helper.
"If you accept, place your hand out before you." The King smiled.

"I accept this honor, my Lord." Theron lifted his hand out, hoping he was doing it right and not making a fool of himself. Calvis' scoff almost sounded too loud in that moment.

This is not what he was expecting. Things were moving so fast. He was just a knight-in-training five minutes ago. Now he's a knight? There's got to be something else to go along with this, right? This seems a bit rushed, but he put that thought aside.

The King placed a hand below and on top of Theron's hand, and recited a passage in a foreign human language that Theron did not understand. Soon after, there was a flash of light where their hands met and a burning sensation slowly crept onto the top of Theron's hand. He winced in pain but kept his hand still.

"I place this seal as protection, a statement and as a sign of respect. This seal is a crest that only this family presents. As you rank up, I will change the seal as I see fit. Right now it's the basic seal, but I have faith that soon you will exceed everyone's expectations and that the seal will become complete. Bearing this seal means upholding your duties to the kingdom and—"

The King was interrupted when Theron screamed in pain. The light from his hand flashed, causing searing pain to shoot up his arm and throughout his entire body. Even the necklace his mother gave him reacted too. It began to glow a faint greenish hue. The King stepped back, breaking contact with their hands in shock. The mark on Theron's hand was indeed the seal of Valleria, but it flashed white and faded in and out, causing the back of Theron's hand to bleed. The knights and Royal Guard drew their swords. The Queen and Princess Halea covered their mouths and gasped.

Soon after the flashing, the seal disappeared and left a red burn mark behind.

"Wh-what just happened?" Theron grunted, grasping his throbbing hand closely to his chest.

The King looked around the room at the tension this had caused and searched for answers amongst his peers. None of them, however, gave any answers. "I'm not sure, I must've said the wrong phrase, it has been awhile since I've done this, I might be a little rusty."
The King chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. He saw his knights still defensive and wary of the scene that just took place before them. "For Valleria's sake, put your swords away." The King motioned for them to ease their protective forms.

At that moment, Theron had noticed all the blades were pointed at him.

It seems they don't trust him after all. Nothing he ever does will ever be good enough for humans, he is just an elf to them.

"Leave us." The King motioned for everyone to leave except Theron.

Theron glanced around the room as everyone began doing as the King requested. He caught Princess Halea's eyes before she left through a secret door behind the thrones. Her eyes were filled with worry and concern for the brief seconds he saw them.

As everyone left, the court magician rushed over and cast a minor healing spell on his hand, instantly reverting it back to healthy flesh. The small healing spells have been one of the few magic spells he's seen while being here and it amazes him every time.

The magician, whom he had learned to be called Yelren, traced his fingertips over the veins in Theron's arms. Without expression, Yelren got up and whispered something in the King's ear. Soon after, Yelren walked to the side and the King smiled at Theron.

"That must've been quite the surprise, my apologies. Are you hurt? Other than your hand, young Theron?" The King pulled an amulet out of his pocket.

"I believe I am fine, thank you for the concern my lord." Theron looked his hand over again, seeing no sign of being burned.

What exactly was that? Is it true the King misread the phrase? The pain felt awful and personal, as if something inside his body was rejecting the will of the King.

"Until we are able to figure out what happened, we will give you this for now. It's an amulet infused with my seal, it acts just the same as if it were placed on your hand." The King placed it overtop his head.

"It looks good on you, Theron. I am proud of how much you've grown. From the day you were a little elf boy battling my knight in the bazaar, to the fine young man I see before me, a Knight of the kingdom."

Theron choked back on tears. The King has been like a second father to him. His actual father has been distant, though Theron makes sure to see him every day.

"I'm just doing the best I can for my King and the kingdom I fight for, My Lord." Theron straightened up, trying his best to sound confident.

"I'm very glad to hear that." The King placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Then his expression changed, and in a serious tone he continued, "Now, I have a favor to ask."

Theron gulped, he was sure it was audible outside of his own body. He felt something else had been going on. This knighting just felt different and until now, he wasn't able to place his finger on it.

After the King cleared his throat, he continued:

"Theron, I would like you to become my daughter's personal guard."