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House Medakan
Taziar stared at the ring in his hand, the servant who delivered it forgotten in the passing crowd. The twin swans facing one another, black with golden highlights, necks twisted in perfect figure eights.
Laada-sagain weladhi, the Medakan House motto engraved in swirling old tongue around the edges;
forever family. Growing up he had never seen the ring off of his father’s finger before, its shiny golden band like a tie around his fat sausage finger. These final years the sunken and withered finger looked small against the signet, the hand raising slowly in gestures like the ring was a great anchor holding it down. A finger the ring would never see again.
“Lord Medakan…” the servant said, a raised hand by Taziar silencing him.
He closed his hand around the ring and grasped until he could feel the swan sigil imprinted into his palm. He brought the fist to his mouth, closed his eyes, and kissed it.
“Call in the bannermen, notify the other Houses… we must be ready if my cousin Kerryk attempts a coup.”
The servant bowed curtly, spun around and dashed through the afternoon throng. The sounds of curses in the crowd and “Make way for House Medakan, make way!” faded out into the distance, the natural bustling sounds of the Cairhien crowd swallowing it up.
Taziar turned the other way and pushed into the masses. The domed spire of the Sun Palace sat above the crowded street, the base obscured in the dirty burlap and skin of the packed avenue. Most moved quickly out of his way when seeing his uniform, those that did not were given a firm, but fair, warning to move… the hard of hearing were assisted in moving aside.
He had been preparing for this moment, his father’s nightly discussions grooming him for leading the House. “Strike fast, and true… just like you do with that sword of yours.” he would say. The great Houses might try to interfere, your cousin may send assassins… Dark One's own luck, Lord Damodred might call for your head. You never knew what could happen during a succession.
Taziar climbed the north ramp and through the gate into the Sun Palace, the Sun Guards saluting him in the Cairhien fashion. He wondered who knew already.
Did they know? As he passed others on the way to the Grand Hall he wondered each time. Eyes rapidly scanning left to right, up and down… looking for any hint of truth, lies, or deception in their faces. Some called it the Great Game, here it was like the air itself, wrapped around each and every single thing.
The great door opened and Taziar strode into the Grand Hall like he had a million times before, sure and confident. Thick metal boots announcing his entrance as they rang across the marbled floor. Heads raised and looked, watching him approach the Sun Throne. He reached the dais before the throne, saluted with his fist across his chest, the signet ring still embedded inside it, throbbing in his palm. He knelt onto one knee before King Galldrian su Riatin Rie and bowed his head.
“My father has passed, may the Wheel give him rest before it needs his thread once again. It is now my time to lead my House, and I ask for your consent and your authority to bestow upon me the title: Lord Taziar of House Medakan and Sun Knight of the Cairhien Rising Sun.”
(Link for better formatting: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1e3GK14ZuxIAN5cv7k3J8R9UonqSY_MVTP_XPZgFm7vo/edit?usp=sharing )
House Medakan
Taziar stared at the ring in his hand, the servant who delivered it forgotten in the passing crowd. The twin swans facing one another, black with golden highlights, necks twisted in perfect figure eights. [i]Laada-sagain weladhi[/i], the Medakan House motto engraved in swirling old tongue around the edges; [i]forever family[/i]. Growing up he had never seen the ring off of his father’s finger before, its shiny golden band like a tie around his fat sausage finger. These final years the sunken and withered finger looked small against the signet, the hand raising slowly in gestures like the ring was a great anchor holding it down. A finger the ring would never see again.
“Lord Medakan…” the servant said, a raised hand by Taziar silencing him.
He closed his hand around the ring and grasped until he could feel the swan sigil imprinted into his palm. He brought the fist to his mouth, closed his eyes, and kissed it.
“Call in the bannermen, notify the other Houses… we must be ready if my cousin Kerryk attempts a coup.”
The servant bowed curtly, spun around and dashed through the afternoon throng. The sounds of curses in the crowd and “Make way for House Medakan, make way!” faded out into the distance, the natural bustling sounds of the Cairhien crowd swallowing it up.
Taziar turned the other way and pushed into the masses. The domed spire of the Sun Palace sat above the crowded street, the base obscured in the dirty burlap and skin of the packed avenue. Most moved quickly out of his way when seeing his uniform, those that did not were given a firm, but fair, warning to move… the hard of hearing were assisted in moving aside.
He had been preparing for this moment, his father’s nightly discussions grooming him for leading the House. “Strike fast, and true… just like you do with that sword of yours.” he would say. The great Houses might try to interfere, your cousin may send assassins… Dark One's own luck, Lord Damodred might call for your head. You never knew what could happen during a succession.
Taziar climbed the north ramp and through the gate into the Sun Palace, the Sun Guards saluting him in the Cairhien fashion. He wondered who knew already. [i]Did they know?[/i] As he passed others on the way to the Grand Hall he wondered each time. Eyes rapidly scanning left to right, up and down… looking for any hint of truth, lies, or deception in their faces. Some called it the Great Game, here it was like the air itself, wrapped around each and every single thing.
The great door opened and Taziar strode into the Grand Hall like he had a million times before, sure and confident. Thick metal boots announcing his entrance as they rang across the marbled floor. Heads raised and looked, watching him approach the Sun Throne. He reached the dais before the throne, saluted with his fist across his chest, the signet ring still embedded inside it, throbbing in his palm. He knelt onto one knee before King Galldrian su Riatin Rie and bowed his head.
“My father has passed, may the Wheel give him rest before it needs his thread once again. It is now my time to lead my House, and I ask for your consent and your authority to bestow upon me the title: Lord Taziar of House Medakan and Sun Knight of the Cairhien Rising Sun.”