Loren was not a very good knight-in-training. He always meant well, but he lacked the knightly manners that came naturally to his wealthier peers, as he was his class's only charity case. He hoped Lord Marr would not mind. While he knew his god would not care about the contents of his purse, he wondered how he could fill the shoes of the other great knights of the Hall.
Today he would find out, because today his class was to be sworn in. It was the climax of three years of training. And so he knelt, alone, in the altar room, not praying. He worried; he did not think he deserved this. He had been told everyone felt this way, but when he thought of his poor mother and his struggling family, he felt alone.
He thought of his parents' sacrifices in getting him to where he was, and of the donations that had supported him throughout his years in the temple, and he felt gratitude slowly roll over him. He did not know, if so many believed in him, trusted him, loved him, how he could let them down by failing now. He did not know how he could let himself down. He began to pray, even though no words left his uncivilized tongue.
Above his bowed head, the light descended, a strong blue fire, and Loren soon knew that he could, in fact, be worthy of the title "knight."