2nd Interlude

It has been nearly three years since I took the Oath beneath the opalescent chamber. Strange how often I still feel the tingling warmth of the mark, even when I choose not to look upon it. The others have moved on, in ways, forging their own goals besides what we found. But I remember. I will always remember.
 
Duty does not wait for recognition.
 
Since that day, I have not been idle. Every morning begins with the blade and the shield, not because I am expected to, but because I must. If I am to be a true knight, and not merely the heir of House Von Urkseld, I must live the virtues I speak of. I have drafted them, revised them, bled a little over them. They are as follows:
 
Valor – To stand firm in the face of fear.
 
Honor – To act with integrity, even when no one watches.
 
Loyalty – To one's house, one's people, and to truth.
 
Duty – To serve when it is easier to turn away.
 
Compassion – For the meek, the strange, and the forgotten.
 
Wisdom – To temper steel with thought.
 
Resolve – To persist when the world would rather you yield.
 
I’ve spoken quietly of these virtues and the order of the Fatebound to a few others. Some listen, some smile and nod, but a few, like Cora and Vaelon, have begun to ask questions, to reflect. I do not wish to command, only to inspire. If Fatebound are to rise again, let it be in deed before name. I know that I am but a boy playing in the fields of men, but this feels important. My oath is important. I know something is coming. I will stand Unshaken.
 
The academy remains a fragile truce. The children of loyalists and rebels still circle each other like wolves in deep snow. I have done what I can. I train with both. I eat with both. I take bruises and throw them in equal measure. Some scoff, but others… watch. It is enough, for now. Vaelion has formed an unrecognized guard, he has concerns about the princess' safety. That would be a dark chapter in an already dismal tale if it were to come to fruition. I do not know about any vows but protecting her highness is the duty of all knights and loyal houses, so a little lost sleep is a small price to pay.
 
Caelith continues to be a source of chaos. His stunt at the Drakemont gathering was a thing of legend. We need that levity, I think. And, Gods, anything to distract from the jockeying over my marital future. You'd think that those etiquette courses would prepare someone for this level of interest. I tell you, they fall short. Some bulwark I am when I continue to politely disengage, let us be honest, flee the attentions of Fanya & Ryska! I swear those women live in shadow. I still maintain that was a roar of surprise, not a squeak of terror. Mother and Elise are of no assistance. They dissolve in laughter whenever I ask for their help. I swear Aldric has been assisting them. At this point my future legend at the academy while be the shade of my blushes, not my strength of arms on the sands. Who says they'll climb you like a tree! Honestly! At least Lirien, hides me from time to time. Though I can see the laughter in her eyes.
 
Captain Vexmere still instructs us. She is tireless, sharp as frost, and fair beyond reproach. I think she sees something in me, or perhaps she pities me. I doubt she knows I watch her every move in training, trying to capture her poise, her fire. I would never speak it aloud, there is too much to lose, but if she ever reads this, I suppose the truth would no longer matter.
 
I’ve continued research in quiet hours, what little I can glean about Lyrielle, the Faerie knight. The old elven woman's amulet, the fragments in the library, even songs nearly lost to time, they all speak of her as a guardian, a protector of not just royalty, but of purpose. If she entrusted that orb to the Fatebound, then whatever’s coming… it will not be small. I check the hidden chamber once a week. It is still safe. Still asleep.
 
My siblings, Vareth help them, they're nothing like me. Too loud, too quick to mischief, too vulnerable. But I watch over them. I see the same tempers and duty that ran in Father’s blood, Mother's wit and humor, and I try to teach them patience without scolding. To my surprise, they listen, sometimes. I worry about them in this place once I leave. Have I done enough to prepare them to stand on their own? Will they be alright without me standing sentinel to their follies and hurts?
 
I still send letters home. I write to Father about sword forms and to Mother about the etiquette classes, which I have come to admire, even if the fork rules still confound me. Why are they not made the proper size! I bent three forks last week! Poor lady Valcourt nearly winces when I approach her cutlery. I do not mention the deeper matters. They are my burden, and I would not give my parents reason to worry.