The King stood tall before the marble steps of his throne, his crimson robes flowing behind him like a banner of war. Light filtered in through the stained glass above, casting fractured hues on the floor as he addressed the five assembled before him.
Damian's eyes shifted across the room to the other royal guards. Four now stood where five once did, he had claimed that fifth spot himself in battle.
Arthur Vexwin, the first sword, was flawless. Always composed. A knight not moulded by training but born for it.
Sebastian Kade, strategic, composed, he carried a rapier as his weapon, whilst the rest just had swords.
Barron Holt, the wall of muscle. massive, and absolutely unmovable.
kent Velm, his words were rare, but his presence could lighten a room.
"You are to deliver this message to the Queen personally," he said, holding out a scroll sealed with the insignia of the Crown. "It is an announcement of celebration. The appointment of our new royal guard deserves to be acknowledged in full view of both courts."
Arthur stepped forward, his Gold armour gleaming in the filtered light. He took the scroll in silence and gave the King a bow of quiet dignity.
The King turned his gaze to Damian. "Don't forget. You carry more than a sword now. You carry the weight of power."
With no more words exchanged, the group departed the throne room.
The five rode together, with Arthur at the front, his cloak fluttering behind him like a banner. Townspeople gathered as they passed — not for all five, but for one.
Children cheered Arthur's name, women bowed their heads respectfully, and elders raised a hand in greeting.
"Sir Arthur! Sir Arthur!" kids shouted
"Tell us about the Bone-Beast again!"
"Can I be a knight like you?"
He answered them all with a smile and a soft tone, promising they'd have their own blades one day.
He always slowed for them. Always spoke kindly. Always gave them a moment of his day.
Damian rode alongside Arthur for much of the way. The silence between them was thick at first, filled only by hoofbeats and wind.
Eventually, Damian spoke.
"The people really love you, huh?"
Arthur gave a faint smile. "They don't love me. They love what I stand for."
"And what's that?"
"An ideal. One they can hold on to when everything else falls apart."
Damian mulled it over. "And you? You still believe in that ideal?"
Arthur's smile faded slightly. "Every day... or at least, I try to."
They passed a village where children came running, shouting Arthur's name. He dismounted to speak with them briefly, handing one a small, carved trinket from his satchel and another a few golden coins.
Damian watched quietly.
"He's not doing it for show," Sebastian said beside him, noticing the look on Damian's face. "He's always been that way."
"He's revered," Damian muttered.
"He's respected," Sebastian corrected. "Reverence is for kings. Arthur's something different. Something people believe in."
Right there and then
A part of Damian wondered... Could a man like Arthur ever be Death, is he just playing the perfect role? Or is this who he truly is?
After a long ride they had finally arrived.
The guards at the main gate stepped aside without question once they saw Arthur.
It was like entering another world. While the King's fortress was dark, brooding, built for war — the Queen's palace was vibrant, glowing in white and crimson hues. Lanterns floated above the entrance like fireflies. Music echoed faintly through high windows.
Inside, the throne room was a cathedral of elegance, tall white columns rose into the heavens, and velvet drapes fell like waterfalls on either side of a throne carved from obsidian. Upon it sat the Queen.. Damian's gaze settled on the Queen, and he felt the weight of the room shift. She was beautiful, in a quiet, effortless way, her golden hair catching the light like a crown, her green eyes calm and kind. There was a gentleness to her presence, a grace that made the obsidian throne seem less cold. In that moment, she didn't feel like a ruler to fear, but one to believe in.
And before her—four figures. The Queen's royal guard.
They stood like statues, perfectly spaced, their auras unmistakable.
Ezekiel, farthest left, wore dark robes that flowed like shadows. His build was slimmer, almost graceful, but the katana at his hip screamed lethality. His black hair framed a face that barely moved.
Next to him stood Aries, the lone woman. Her brown hair was tied tight, her posture flawless. She wore no armour, only black leather and silver-lined daggers. Her eyes met Damian's without flinching.
Beside her, the tall archer Thyrius leaned ever so slightly to one side, long messy ginger hair falling over one eye. He looked relaxed, but his fingers were never far from the feathered arrows on his back.
Last was Heimdall. Older. Weathered. A silver beard, deep lines across his face, and a sword that had likely ended more lives than most soldiers would ever see. His sheer presence made Damian straighten unconsciously.
Damian glanced between them. "There's only four of you?"
Aries sighed. "Demetrius is probably still in bed."
Arthur stepped forward and bowed.
"Your Majesty. The King sends his greetings. He wishes to inform you of a celebration. A new guard has been appointed to the Royal Five. He is to be introduced at the coming court." He held out the scroll.
The Queen took it wordlessly, broke the seal, and skimmed its contents.
"So A celebration... for the newest of the King's guards." Her gaze shifted to Damian. "And this must be him."
Damian slowly stepped forward. "I am Damian. Knight of the Crown. Royal Guard by right of combat."
The Queen tilted her head and smiled. "Honour the people well and hold your head high. Let us hope it doesn't crack under pressure."
Before another word could be spoken, the double doors at the far end of the hall creaked open.
A whirlwind of noise followed.
Demetrius burst in, yawning, rubbing his eyes, and waving cheerfully. His chocolate brown hair was messy, and his cloak was halfway twisted off one shoulder.
His energy shifted the atmosphere immediately. Light-hearted. Bubbly. But powerful.
"Sooo sorry, Your Grace. Had a dream I was a dragon. Didn't want to wake up."
"Did I miss anything important?"
The Queen placed her head in her hands and sighed. "You missed the entrance of your King's counterpart. And your own, Demetrius."
The Queen narrowed her eyes. "Must we always wait on your royal dreams?"
Demetrius replied "In my defence, I was saving the world. In my dreams."
Laughter echoed lightly through the marble chamber. Even Heimdall cracked a rare grin.
Demetrius bounded forward, winked at the queen, and gave Damian a mock salute. "So, you're the new guy, huh? Nice to meet you."
He then walked to his place beside the others.
Now, five guards stood before the throne.
Demetrius, Eziekel, Aries, Thyrius and Heimdall.
The Queen gestured to her guards. "Well, let us begin preparations. The people will be eager to feast. Let this celebration be one that we all remember."