Byron Aschefell steadily made his way down the hall of the tucked away inn on his way to see his daughter the morning of the big day.
The old wolf paused for a moment to brace himself against the wall and catch his breath, shifting his weight from his bad leg and relaxing the grip on his cane.
The morning chill was hard on old wounds, and even the most powerful healing magic had it's limits. That only slowed a warrior like himself down for a moment though, as he let out a gruff `hmmph,' and pushed himself from the wall, pacing steadily onward towards his young daughter's room.
Stahl Aschefell, the daughter in question, was gazing absent-mindedly out of the second story window of the inn when she heard her father's knock. Her mind pulled from her daydream as she swung her head towards the door and called out to her visitor.
"It's open."
The brass handle turned and the door was pushed inward as the younger she-wolf watched her father slowly shuffle in. The she-wolf frowned a bit, just as she always seemed to these days when seeing such a once mighty warrior now struggle to even walk without a limp.
It had been nearly two years since her father was injured, but Stahl had had a harder time adjusting to the injury than Byron himself... Perhaps because her father had lost something even more precious to him during that battle.
"Nervous?" The old knight questioned as he grew closer, obviously referencing the look upon his daughter's face. The she-wolf just turned back towards her window and answered confidently, "Not even a little. Even before I put two years of service in the army under my belt, I was already better than most swordsmen twice my age. Now? Well, I can't imagine I'd be up against too many that could fend me off in a one-on-one match long enough to bag a win... Some, perhaps, but not many."
The young gray she-wolf finished her boasting just as her father took her side and closed his eyes, joining his daughter at basking in the warmth of the sunrise for a peaceful moment before chastising her foolish comment.
"Don't underestimate an opponent you haven't met yet, my daughter, or any opponent for that matter."
Stahl simply rolled her eyes a bit and agreed with the older wolf. "Yeah, I know. But honestly, are you worried?"
The knight grinned a bit, the tip of his fang poking out of the corner of the smirk on his muzzle as he answered promptly and smoothly. "Not even a little."
Stahl found herself still just a bit awestruck any time she visited the Selection Grounds, and this time seemed no different in that regard. It was hard not to be impressed.
The Selection Grounds were built upon a lush green meadow, the spring had swept in the week prior and gifted thick patches of wildflowers around the perimeter of the circular stone structure, wafting a pleasant scent into the surrounding area.
The structure itself was mostly a tan marble, with rivers of golden copper melted in to mortar the breaks between slabs. The circle formed by the marble was multiple layered, with a stair-like design for seating. There were large rectangular platforms scattered about, isolated above the stair seating by about ten feet or so.
Noble seating.
At the far end, across from the entry arch, sat the royal platform. It was the highest point of the structure, and the largest area. This was for the king, knights, and his honored guests. The stadium and the Selection brought quite a crowd to the kingdom of Alora.
The young she-wolf passed through the entry, and continued straight to the center of the arena. There were six tables laid out in a circle upon the center of the raised earth arena.
Stahl knew from coming to see the event as a pup with her father that this was where you officially registered to take part in the Selection, so she made her way over and spoke to a knight assisting with the process.
She was registered easily enough. The coyote taking her information made a remark about a lot of big family name's being present this year to Stahl, to which the she-wolf simply shrugged in response. Stahl was not a fan of many nobles, even being one herself.
After registration was over, the she-wolf made her way to the ground level seating reserved for participants. The reserved area was more than accommodating enough for the amount of entries each year, so the she-wolf took a seat on the bottom left section where only a few stragglers were scattered. Stahl placed her hands behind her head, leaned back, and began idly observing the entries still registering while she waited for the show to start.
Jagón Venatus, the proud black panther knight, was gathered among other notable knights, warriors, and guests upon the royal platform at the Selection Grounds. The sound of small talk lingered all around him as old allies greeted and new faces made their introductions.
Jagón had had enough of the greetings, and was already seated, impatiently awaiting for the event to begin. As much as he didn't want to be present, observing the warriors who would be joining him and who he would be responsible for training in the Elite King's Guard through the Selection was an important duty.
"You're bouncing your foot again, Mr. Serious." The teasing voice was immediately recognized by the panther, who internally groaned a bit about the overly chipper cat it belonged to before stopping his foot to look up at the mage leaning over him against the back of his chair.
"Good morning to you too, Alice."
The calico cat beamed down mischievously at the panther and left him with a wink before moving on in her mission of annoying the entire kingdom before noon. Jagón watched her skirt away before locking eyes with Sir Byron Aschefell, the gray wolf. (Well, more silver and white in his years these days.)
Jagón nodded in his direction in acknowledgement and the old knight smiled and nodded back. Jagón may have been a bit antisocial, but he still paid his respects to all of his past teachers. Besides, seeing the wolf actually out was a rare treat since he had lost both his oldest son, and the ability to fight nearly two years prior.
A thunderous boom sounded across the stadium. "Finally," the panther mumbled to himself. The Selection would begin in ten minutes. Jagón felt a grip on his right shoulder and turned to see his king staring straight ahead. The knight immediately stood and then kneeled.
"My king."
The lion scoffed and dismissed the panther with a wave of his hand, turning to address him, "Please Jagón, spare me the formality. I don't know how much more of it I can stand today."
The two big cats locked eyes and, after a moment, briefly chuckled. They both were quite tired of discussing politics in their years. The king took his seat beside the panther.
Before either of them had time to speak much else, Alice seemingly appeared out of nowhere and took the seat opposite of Jagón beside the king. When she spoke, her sugar-baked tone made both grumpy old warriors wince a bit.
"Seems to be an interesting group this year. Maybe we will get a good show." The cat said enthusiastically.
"I'm sure the turnout will be roughly the same as always. We will gain a few prospecting new knights to train, and you'll gain some new victims to torment." Jagón spoke gruffly. King Alocer chuckled a bit. Those two were always taking shots at each other. He suspected it was just Alice's way of keeping the knight on his toes.
Alice, as unflinching as ever, only paused for a moment, and tilted her head as if in ignorance of what he could be implying. She gazed blankly at the knight for a moment before picking back up where she left off.
"Tease all you want, but I've heard by reliable sources that this year may just throw us quite the unexpected ringer."
"Reliable sources?" the panther questioned, raising one brow as he did so.
"My gut." The playful cat winked, and darted off once again into the crowd.
Both the king and the knight looked at each other worriedly, Alice was many things, and undoubtedly a mystery, but her instincts were dangerously sharp. The lifelong friends spoke in unison, using a tone that made it sound as if they were spitting out bitter poison.
"Fuck."
***