[Memory] He Who Stands Tall And Proud
Posted: Wed Apr 07, 2021 9:58 pm
He Who Stands Tall And Proud
15 of Searing, 100 Age of Steel
The room was large but yet felt crowded as the crowd tried to set still. Falrisona sat looking out the window over the citadel below them, and beyond that his golden eyes took in the beautiful fields that even at this moment were populated with mounted knights practicing their skills. Normally the Hytori knight would be out shouting at novices to sit up straight in the saddle. The older knight still remembered when that field was pact with knights who were eager to learn, and die, for the sake of hope, justice and the world. It pricked his heart that so few were now willing to swell the ranks of Dawnmartyrs.
The golden eyes turned away from the window as a heavy bulk settled into a chair next to the couch. The knight nodded his son in laws father. Both were knights, and Falrisona had nothing but respect for the Avialea knight who had forsaken his home and been a beacon among them, and had recently been promoted so that among the knights he out ranked the Hytori knight. The respect was mutual as Falrisona was among a dying breed, he still remembered the last great war.
“What are you thinking?” Taselia asked.
“I was remembering when as child I would look out this window that field was packed with knights practicing.” Was the answer.
“Really?” Taselia looked surprised. “If I remember right on the other four I had to get you drunk you were so worried.” The knight refused to rise to the bait even if his cheek did pinken a bit. “What has you so bloody calm this time.” The big man leaned forward and sniffed. “You don’t smell drunk.”
Falrisona pulled back and waved his fellow grandfather away. “Stop being such a peasant Taselia.”
“But I am.” The Avialea laughed. “I am so much a peasant that my father’s people refused us.” His eyes twinkled with humor. Falrisona shook his head and laughed and gave in.
“I have known about Pahoran since he was conceived.” Falrisona answered his gaze returning to the window but this time seeing parts of the world far away. There was silence for a long moment.
“Falrisona I am not sure which part of that statement to tackle first.” Came the serious reply. “The fact you seem to know a boy is going to be carried through that door, the fact that are children have already named him Pahoran or the fact our children have suddenly become loss lipped about certain subjects.”
Still looking out the window the reply came as if from far away. “I had a dream, I was on the battlefield again, but this time instead of being young like I was then. I was as I am now. This time the tide seemed to be turning against us. I was leading a battalion, but I couldn’t seem to get through to the rest of the knights. We were surrounded, holding our own but doing nothing more.” Falrisona wasn’t aware that his wife had drifted closer and was know standing by listening. “Then HE came. A light in the swarms. I tried to move us towards HIS direction, but we couldn’t make any progress. I became desperate and I looked around me, and I saw that I was fighting side by side with you, the children, and I saw my father and brothers, and others of my fore fathers fighting with us.” He paused again lost in the memory. The dream had been so real.
The other two were quiet serious eyes watching. “Then one came out of the crowd and in his hands he held the Standard of Hope. Unlike me he didn’t try to push forward he just lifted the Standard so that HE could see it.”
He turned and looked back at them. “Then my father spoke and said. ‘Where ever we stand is the right place.’ He clapped my shoulder and it was just us. Looking at me he said. ‘Remember the Knights carry the oaths with them. We must be the pillar of strength for when HE comes back. Let the Standard Bearer bring Him to us and we will be the pillar to support him.’ Then he was gone and I saw again the standard bearer. I knew then he would come of my line and he would be the one who Stands Tall and Proud”
“Pahoran.” Came the soft response of his wife. She understood the elvish symbolism of the name.
The old knight nodded his head and smiled at his wife. The three of them were silent then as what could one really say in response to that. Their quiet meditation was interrupted by the at first week but progressively louder sound of a crying baby. With the agility of knight ready for action four grandparents were as close to the door they could all comfortably get with out shoving each other out of the way.
The crying continued sounding nice and strong. Soon the door opened and a very tired Bapona opened the door and grinned at the group of them. “Please come in.”
The group of grandparents came in and were followed by their children. Sitting propped up on the bed Ruthora sat looking absolutely exhausted, completely disheveled, and more triumphant then any warrior. Her husband came up and kissed her on the forehead and then kissed baby in her arms.
Still crying a boy child, as seen by the featherless wings, lay pressed against his mother but wrapped for warmth.
As one each of the knights extended their hands and summoned their bonded weapons. Then as one the knelt and saluted but not to the babe but to the mother. “Praise to the Dawn. Praise to HIM, Praise to Knight Ruthora who has fought through the valley of death and emerged triumphant and has brought new life to this world.” They all said together.
After they stood up Falrisona approached first. He pulled something out of his pocket it was a statue of a knight. It was actually a statue of HIM, given to Falrisona when he was boy by his father. He carefully set it at the base of the crib and then extended his hands to take the baby. His daughter had a surprised look on her face but she handed the baby over. The old knight looked down at a babe who appeared no different then the other children his daughter had brought into the world. As with each he felt the tears prick at his eyes but unlike the others he put his hand on the child’s forehead and said. “Welcome Pahoran, welcome he who stands Tall and Proud.” He smiled as the healthy babe settled down at his voice.
15 of Searing, 100 Age of Steel
The room was large but yet felt crowded as the crowd tried to set still. Falrisona sat looking out the window over the citadel below them, and beyond that his golden eyes took in the beautiful fields that even at this moment were populated with mounted knights practicing their skills. Normally the Hytori knight would be out shouting at novices to sit up straight in the saddle. The older knight still remembered when that field was pact with knights who were eager to learn, and die, for the sake of hope, justice and the world. It pricked his heart that so few were now willing to swell the ranks of Dawnmartyrs.
The golden eyes turned away from the window as a heavy bulk settled into a chair next to the couch. The knight nodded his son in laws father. Both were knights, and Falrisona had nothing but respect for the Avialea knight who had forsaken his home and been a beacon among them, and had recently been promoted so that among the knights he out ranked the Hytori knight. The respect was mutual as Falrisona was among a dying breed, he still remembered the last great war.
“What are you thinking?” Taselia asked.
“I was remembering when as child I would look out this window that field was packed with knights practicing.” Was the answer.
“Really?” Taselia looked surprised. “If I remember right on the other four I had to get you drunk you were so worried.” The knight refused to rise to the bait even if his cheek did pinken a bit. “What has you so bloody calm this time.” The big man leaned forward and sniffed. “You don’t smell drunk.”
Falrisona pulled back and waved his fellow grandfather away. “Stop being such a peasant Taselia.”
“But I am.” The Avialea laughed. “I am so much a peasant that my father’s people refused us.” His eyes twinkled with humor. Falrisona shook his head and laughed and gave in.
“I have known about Pahoran since he was conceived.” Falrisona answered his gaze returning to the window but this time seeing parts of the world far away. There was silence for a long moment.
“Falrisona I am not sure which part of that statement to tackle first.” Came the serious reply. “The fact you seem to know a boy is going to be carried through that door, the fact that are children have already named him Pahoran or the fact our children have suddenly become loss lipped about certain subjects.”
Still looking out the window the reply came as if from far away. “I had a dream, I was on the battlefield again, but this time instead of being young like I was then. I was as I am now. This time the tide seemed to be turning against us. I was leading a battalion, but I couldn’t seem to get through to the rest of the knights. We were surrounded, holding our own but doing nothing more.” Falrisona wasn’t aware that his wife had drifted closer and was know standing by listening. “Then HE came. A light in the swarms. I tried to move us towards HIS direction, but we couldn’t make any progress. I became desperate and I looked around me, and I saw that I was fighting side by side with you, the children, and I saw my father and brothers, and others of my fore fathers fighting with us.” He paused again lost in the memory. The dream had been so real.
The other two were quiet serious eyes watching. “Then one came out of the crowd and in his hands he held the Standard of Hope. Unlike me he didn’t try to push forward he just lifted the Standard so that HE could see it.”
He turned and looked back at them. “Then my father spoke and said. ‘Where ever we stand is the right place.’ He clapped my shoulder and it was just us. Looking at me he said. ‘Remember the Knights carry the oaths with them. We must be the pillar of strength for when HE comes back. Let the Standard Bearer bring Him to us and we will be the pillar to support him.’ Then he was gone and I saw again the standard bearer. I knew then he would come of my line and he would be the one who Stands Tall and Proud”
“Pahoran.” Came the soft response of his wife. She understood the elvish symbolism of the name.
The old knight nodded his head and smiled at his wife. The three of them were silent then as what could one really say in response to that. Their quiet meditation was interrupted by the at first week but progressively louder sound of a crying baby. With the agility of knight ready for action four grandparents were as close to the door they could all comfortably get with out shoving each other out of the way.
The crying continued sounding nice and strong. Soon the door opened and a very tired Bapona opened the door and grinned at the group of them. “Please come in.”
The group of grandparents came in and were followed by their children. Sitting propped up on the bed Ruthora sat looking absolutely exhausted, completely disheveled, and more triumphant then any warrior. Her husband came up and kissed her on the forehead and then kissed baby in her arms.
Still crying a boy child, as seen by the featherless wings, lay pressed against his mother but wrapped for warmth.
As one each of the knights extended their hands and summoned their bonded weapons. Then as one the knelt and saluted but not to the babe but to the mother. “Praise to the Dawn. Praise to HIM, Praise to Knight Ruthora who has fought through the valley of death and emerged triumphant and has brought new life to this world.” They all said together.
After they stood up Falrisona approached first. He pulled something out of his pocket it was a statue of a knight. It was actually a statue of HIM, given to Falrisona when he was boy by his father. He carefully set it at the base of the crib and then extended his hands to take the baby. His daughter had a surprised look on her face but she handed the baby over. The old knight looked down at a babe who appeared no different then the other children his daughter had brought into the world. As with each he felt the tears prick at his eyes but unlike the others he put his hand on the child’s forehead and said. “Welcome Pahoran, welcome he who stands Tall and Proud.” He smiled as the healthy babe settled down at his voice.