Being a knight was not so much different from being the son of a count. After having reached a certain social rank there was little in the way the populace could do to show more deference save from prostrating themselves. Not that the Illarion had wished to become a night to further his status either secular or religious. Instead a moral nature had pushed him to find what he believed to be the profession able to do the most good. Medicine would be his second choice however in a world where anarchy was allowed to reign unchecked the physician had little to no time to practice his crafts.

Being a knight was about being a symbol of order. Seeing a lord going about his business was simply that but witnessing a knight was viewing the kingdoms defence against chaos. As it was the knight in question was enjoying a cup of tea at a delightful bakery whilst sampling several of the croissants that the establishment was known for. When the spotty young university hopeful came to his table red and puffing Illarion calmly took a sip before setting his hot beverage on the table. 

“What has the dean sending a page after me?” Illarion inquired to the lad with an eyebrow raised. 

“The Dean states that his old friend and beloved colleague August Alstreim requires someone to attend to his son for the day. The boy is of foreign stock but has been tutored somewhat in the language of our people. Given your fine track record and recent elevation to knighthood the Dean feels that you would well represent what best embodies the spirit of our country. Though the child may be young the High Arcanist states that his father holds a position of high importance in the East.” 

Illarion had certainly not expected to be called to guard the son of a foreign dignitary. Especially not one of sorcerous lineage and ties to one of If not the strongest wizard in the country. Getting to his feet Illarions armour had left a heavy indent on the velvet cushion placed on the oaken chair. Many felt that wearing constant armour was merely a foolish act of pride or perhaps a sign of paranoia which hindered both movement and the ability to use the water closet when the need arose. However with some specialised modifications made by extremely talented blacksmiths the donning and removal of even plate armour could be sped up immensely. 

“If that is what the Dean wills then who am I to argue?” Illarion asked retorically.

“Lead me to this foreign waif and I shall make his as safe as the Kings coffers till the end of the day.”

The small journey through the town did not take long – Illarion was already in one of the more high class districts which were not so far away from where the mages (of good repute) tended to set up shop.  Even amongst these grand dwellings however the abode of the High Arcanist was grand. Crafted with large quantities of marble and obsidian the walls gave the distinct impression of a great game of chess that was being played on a giants scale. Illarion had heard tales of such games being organised in the academy using Archons and pieces which could last for many hours. Apparently those who did not have the stomach or constitution for manifesting their apparition for such lengths of time tended to pass out cold or become violently ill. That sort of pastime never really held much  fascination for Illarion he much prefered to be either in the library brushing up on military treatises or simply out in the training yard or the wilderness revelling in the open space. 

Making his way through spacious doors and into an antechamber filled with portraits from antiquity Illarion began to make his way over to the flight of stairs that wound up to the inner rooms. Three stories up he stopped heading to the door that the page had indicated his charge was now residing behind. A quick knock to announce his presence and then the knight was inside. 

The first impression the child gave was one of surprising normality. If asked to guess Illarion would estimate the boy was around six years old with short brown hair not to different a shade from Illarions own. There was no sign of wings , horns , scales , vestigial limbs or any other oddity that the more fanciful tales spoke about when it came to foreign countries.  Several scholars had been in hot dispute over whether or not those from Teuton were more closely related to either the fay which inhabited the lands to the West or the foreigners from the East. Looking at the boy Yui Illarion had the distinct impression that those from over the sea were almost certainly closer to him and his people than the fairy inhabitants of the other world.  

Calling forth Invictus to manifest in front of him the knight ordered his armoured spectre to enact an extravagant bow exaggerating as if he were part of a mummers play. Given the stature and imposing form of the Archon this made the gesture look even more ridiculous. Straightening his psychic manifestation up Illarion looked to the boy with a  warm smile.


“Hello Yui - my name is Illarion. I hear that your father taught you how to speak our language on your voyage over. That must have been very difficult for one of your age though I hear your father is a very wise and talented man. As I'll be looking after you today I was thinking we could go and see the royal menagerie where you can look at the sorts of beasts that we have in our land. Some of the animals the king managed to get for it are very rare and even most people from this country have never seen them before. After that we can go find ourselves some lunch and perhaps some sweetmeats if you feel hungry.”


Illarion waited to see what the boys reaction to the introduction was.