This time when entering the throne room, Til was among the first to have arrived. A few scattered groups stood around waiting for the King and the other knights and Honored to appear.

  Though the knights and Honored were—at least to the public—a united, indistinguishable front, one that could not be separated into smaller groups. The knights are a unified front to the public, with armor painted in the kingdom’s colors, all standing tall and proud with swords shining. If you didn’t know what you were looking for in this room, you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart except by the most incidental of details. But that was harder still, with all their skin covered, and all the knights held to a standard of behavior, even to a standard of walking, talking.

  Those who wore the Helmets, who had spend their time among the other faceless knights and Honored, could see the differences.

  After all, the sea of metal always parted for Ramboas, his sheer mass, being around the same size and height of the massive gates to the castle made him stand out. Something that coudln’t be controlled or changed, but certainly didn’t help the united front. Though Til doubted most of the public knew him or his name. And even if the public didn’t see notice that Niran never seemed to relax her right arm, only the others among their ranks knew that it was from a cart accident which had left her without that arm at all.

  Others among them were a little harder to discern, though etchings in the armor accidental and on purpose allowed for some recognition. All of them had some markings on their armor, there wasn’t a way to avoid it.

  Til himself had more than a few. Some, like the ones on his helmet, were from the one tangle with a would be assassin he’d had, though the look of them certainly stood and made him recognizable. The ones that were intentional he’d hidden more carefully, his mark of joining an etching in the mark of his clan, one he didn’t know if he’d be welcome back to.

  But the marks on the armor weren’t the only things that made some knights or Honored stand out. A handful of the suits were new, without intentional etchings or accidental nicks. Nothing that separated them even from each other. All of them walking and standing the same. They’d all passed the fitness tests, and then, harder still, the conduct ones, who’s rules they’d follow even in private until they realised they didn’t need to maintain that level. None of them even having marks of joining. They’d notice those on the others eventually and once they saw they alone were without, they’d add their own, fully joining the ranks.

  Til hadn’t had the chance to meet many of the newly Honored, which all of them still were. He hadn’t trained them, but they’d all cross his path eventually, they always did.

  Among the knights and Honored, he was well known, both for previously saving the king, and as someone with standing among the ranks for remaining Honored, he was someone they’d look up to later, when they learned who he was.

  It’d taken him an embarrassingly long time to pick up on the signs of joining after he’d been Honored and knighted. He’d been too young, too brash, and too angry to look up to anyone, to seek out what made the others different from one another. He’d had only one goal on his mind, one that stayed there still.

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  The knights and Honored’s conduct was steadfast, they were to show no fear. But here tonight they were all nervous. The King rarely summoned them for any reason.

  And now it had happened twice in as many days.

  The world might as well have been ending for those who’d gotten used to the sleepy peace.

  Missing children was enough cause for alarm, the fear that they were being turned into weapons a threat none of them considered. Who could be prepared for that? Who could expect they might be able to help in a situation like that?

  Til turned to the throne at the tolling of the bells, sure the King would be there shortly. Around him, conversations quieted as other turned as well.

  The King approaches his throne from one of the side doors, his small form shuffling forward with purpose. Behind him Noan follows, looking marginally better than the last time that Til had seen him.

  Once again, there’s no sign of the Kingsguard, only the wizard.

  Finally the King settles himself in his throne, straightening and addressing the gathered crowd, “Attention, and welcome. Yesterday I told you the troubles we face, the threat that looms over us. Today, I urge you to look within yourselves, and see if you are willing, are able, to leave on this journey that may decide the very future of Sunotoma.

  “All of you, are great, and noble knights. All of you wear the armor of our kingdom, and stand with pride before our people. Though not all of you can carry the weight of the Honored, you are no less a pride of our people. You still may manage to make something of this horrible situation, and of yourselves. I cannot ask all of you to go, nor would I. I cannot even ask that some of you go. I can only ask that you think long and hard about if you would be willing to stand up, to separate yourself from the rest and seek out the dangers of the world. Find these children and bring them back to safety.” King Donner looks around the room, eyes moving without settling, waiting for any sign.

  Til, even though he doesn’t know what he’ll see, looks as well.

  But the only movements from the crowd are swiveling heads, also trying to see who will be brave enough to step forward, to break the silence.

  Almost before he can think it, he’s pushing through the crowd, hand raised along with his voice,“I will go. I would be the one to help the children.”

  Nerves crawl up his spine as the crowd parts, as the King stands, moving to the edge of the platform. “Who are you, that you are so brave?”

  The other knights look at him, seeming almost to look through him as they allow him a path straight to the King.

  “I am Til Tanner, Honored of Sunotoma. I would go forth and find the missing children, I would keep them safe as long as the journey takes, and bring them back to ensure their safety.” Til faces the King and throne, but his gaze darts to the edge of his sight, where he can just make out Noan’s form slumping against the throne, relief and concern playing across his face in equal measure.

  No one, not even the King spoke.

  No other souls dared come forward.

  King Donner sent a look around the room, thick white brows furrowed, frown deepening every wrinkle on his wizened face, “A true hero, all that all of you should aspire to be, stands before you today. Til Tanner is a name you would all do well to remember, the only one among you who had reached what all of you have trained to be. Are there any others who would stand with him? Who would put aside their fear and join him on this quest?”

  The other knights and Honored stand without noise, without even breath as they look back at the King.

  With a shake of his head, frown somehow deepening, the King turns his focus onto Til, “You are the only truly Honorable one among them. You will meet me in my war chambers, there is much we need to discuss to prepare you for your quest.”

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