A Matter Of Devotion
AN: This jumped into my head and demanded I write it. If you are interested I'm planning to update Stealing Time on Friday.
The young Black Shield Cade Harlowe liked being on duty in the royal tombs. Although some might find it grim he though it was peaceful.
Cade enjoyed being surrounded by the greatest heroes of his country's history, and the leaders who had protected their people's freedoms. It was the tales told to him as a boy about those great figures that had made him want to become a Weapon. He felt keenly the honour of guarding their resting place.
Orphaned at a young age, Cade had been raised in a charity house for venerable women and children with no families. There he had been well fed and educated, protected and nurtured. The house only existed; Cade had been told, due to the kindness and charity of one of the countries greatest heroes. They said she had had more money than the King, but had given it all away to support the people who had nothing.
As soon as he was old enough he had applied to become a Black Shield. On The Forge Cade had learnt what family was. Amongst brothers and sisters as devoted he to the leaders and heroes of the past he had been happy.
Of course, not all of the Weapons though guarding the dead was the most important of their tasks. Many considered the protection of the living more important.
Tomb duty was certainly Cade's preference over duty in the upper place during a party or a ball. As he passed from the Sealander section into the Hillander corridor he though of the party going on upstairs now. The giggling of the young women and the frivolity of the drinking and fine clothes annoyed Cade. It seemed to him such activities where not crucial to the survival of the realm. They where only an excuse to waste money.
As he passed the tomb of the legendary King Zackary and his Queen Estora Cade though it was unlikely the brave and self-sacrificing Zackary had enjoyed such parties, or that the beautiful and intelligent Estora had giggled. Now they had been monarchs, unwavering and strong they had held the country together through the great second war. Even more than one hundred and fifty years after their rein they still inspired great loyalty.
Cade wondered if the young princess Arhys would grown to be such a ruler. Her mother had been kind while she lived, however her brother the King was a little to use to getting his own way to be great. He was neither a cruel man nor a stupid one, but he had luckily not faced any challenges that tested his true skill and worth.
It would soon be time for Cade to decide if he wanted to serve as a tomb guard for the rest of his career, or devote himself to the protection of princess Arhys. He was almost certain of what choice he would make.
Cade now came to his favourite part of the patrol route: at the start of Heroes avenue was the tomb of his old orphanage's patroness. He paused here, as he always did, to pay his respects. Maybe it was just all the stories he had been told as a child, but Cade had always felt a strong connection to Rider Sir Karigan G'ladheon.
A painting on the wall above her tomb showed the Green Rider standing defiant before Monrovian the Black on the field of battle, moments before his defeat. The artist had captured Rider G'ladheon with a look of fierce beauty on her face and her hair flowing in an unseen breeze. Cade hoped the image had been painted during the lady's life and was a truthful representation, for she was more beautiful to him than anything he'd ever seen.
Brave, beautiful and selfless. Now she, thought Cade, was a woman worth devoting yourself to.
AN: Sorry it's sad.