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The council chamber was nearly filled to the brim; Guardians and other elders had come from across the realm to witness the rise of a new Guardian of Casadia: Cerydon. Haedren sat at the head of a long oaken table; the elders filled the seats to his right, the assembled Guardians to his left. More than a score of others lined the walls of the chamber, murmuring anxiously about the proceedings as the last of their number strode in.
Torreon had found a spot to stand nearly opposite the future Guardian. He and the Guardian-to-be had soldiered together for a decade, and Torreon believed he was the closest thing the man had to a friend. Cerydon’s face was emotionless as always. Some surely thought it was a stoic façade, but Torreon knew better. Cerydon had always been that way; cold, merciless, and unfeeling almost to a frightening degree. Most men found it off-putting, and perhaps rightfully so, but Torreon had found it fascinating. He had never seen a man like Cerydon; a man who hardly slept, barely ate, and partook of none of the vices of an earthly existence. The only thing he could find comparable were the Altheri; a once joking observation that seemed truer every day. Torreon believed that whatever power granted the Altheri their strength had deemed Cerydon worthy as well. And surely that was a man worth following.
Many believed otherwise. There had been rumors of fervent dissent among the council when Haedren had named Cerydon his successor. Both his detractors and his supporters pointed to his battles with the Sejuk horse tribes in the south. Torreon had fought by his side in those days. He had seen the thoroughly brilliant and unrelenting tactics he had used to bring the horsemen to heel, but he had also seen the darker side. He had seen every raider put to the sword, and their horses too. It had taken Cerydon and his company two years to defeat the horse tribes, and by the end the defeated lived in utter fear of their dark, mail-clad god. His brothers-in-arms had come to worship him too; many seeing him as the second coming of Aurennis. The Steel Dragon, they called him.
At last the room had filled, and Haedren stood.
“I have served Casadia dutifully these past forty years, but alas my strength is now fleeting. It is time another bore the mantle of the Guardian. Cerydon, come forth.” Haedren gestured to Cerydon. Cerydon stood from his seat and moved to stand by the Guardian’s side. Torreon could hear the faint clinking of mail as some of the gathered shifted uncomfortably. “Long and dutifully have you served Casadia. You have shielded us from enemies without and built our strength from within. You walk the Path truer than any. I would name you Guardian of Casadia.”
“I humbly accepted.” Cerydon bowed his head, “I shall keep our people safe from the chaos and darkness.”
Haedren carefully unclasped his crimson cloak and refastened it onto the shoulders of Cerydon. Torreon and many others began to cheer.
“To aid you in your service, I give you Dragonfang.” Haedren reached under the table and emerged with the sheathed sword in hand, “May it serve you well in the field.”
Cerydon took the sword and fastened it to his belt. The cheers grew even louder now as the ceremony came to a close. Torreon smiled and moved towards the head of the table to congratulate his friend. He saw others move quickly towards the door, including a few Guardians. Torreon shook his head; one day they would see Steel Dragon as he did.
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Guardian of Casadia
Master of the Slayers Guild
Minister of Hermertian History
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