Drops of sweats flew in the air as the knight in armour barely avoided the thrusted spear. The spar had lasted more than the average combat duration, and it showed as the two opponents caught their breath, both exhausted. The knight and the experienced old man silently faced each other, waiting for the slightest instant of weakness from the other side.
"Enough," declared the old man, lowering his spear. "Andrea Deeprock has proved her worth. I hereby declare she knows how to fight, and have nothing more to teach her!" he proclaimed, looking at her with a proud gaze.
The crowd of apprentice knights erupted, cheering with excitement and praise while the knight stood still, not yet realizing what happened, her adrenaline built-up during the fight slowly dissipating. The knight lowered her spear, and meticulously took off her helmet, granting her even more cheers from her audience.
The helmet off revealed a beautiful blonde woman in her early-twenties with blue eyes, sweating profusely as her hair stuck on her face. She would have been the ideal of a perfect lady if not for her fierce gaze and small scars on her skin that told of her hardships. She dropped her helmet and raised her fists to the sky in a celebrating manner.
"YAAAAH!" she shouted with passion and pride.
Twenty-four years. It had taken her twenty-four years to meet the requirements to become a Paladin. These frightening conditions, imposed by her mother, the current Saint Paladin, had nearly pushed her to the edge. Absolute mastery of studies, knighthood etiquette, and melee fighting, were domains that would have taken a normal human's entire life to master just one, but she had managed to do all three.
"To become a Paladin, to replace Me, study the arts and science, and master the spear. Only then will I instil you with the sacred knowledge of Paladins passed down from generation to generation!" had demanded her mother, many years ago.
And Andrea had upheld her promise.
------
Evening; having celebrated her accomplishments with her knight comrades, Andrea decidedly walked towards the largest structure in the city, the Saint Cathedral, where her mother took office. One of her mother's tasks was to say mass, so she knew where to find her. Standing on the entrance, she opened the large double doors without any caution, casually interrupting the nightly ceremony.
The audience turned their heads and sat silent, admiring the pretty female knight crossing through the central aisle with solid steps. She stopped before the altar, pointing her glaze at the woman saying the mass, a large book in her hands. The religious woman had prestigious papal vestments which she wore proudly, standing straight with her shoulders back.
In all these years, she had never seen the woman bend down to anyone. She stayed calm at all point, saved her words for important matters, and kept her face still against any adversity. This lady holding mass on peaceful nights was a pure demon on the battlefield, spreading bloodshed while protecting allies. This proud woman was her mother, the Saint Paladin Mary.
Frugal with words, she directly inquired her daughter's arrival with an asking glance, raising an inquiring eyebrow.
"Mother, I upheld my promise!" Andrea simply declared, and it was enough indeed.
Her mother, usually still as an ocean, suddenly reddened with unusual emotion before quickly controlling herself, managing to emit a few closing words to the rest of the audience.
"Dear members, this evening's mass has come to an end. May you have a good night, and God bless you all," she struggled to declare.
The audience quickly understood and promptly left, the matters between a Saint Paladin and her daughter being way above what their status could afford. A few minutes later, the cathedral was void except for the two similarly looking blonde women.
"Andrea, my daughter, let me first congratulate you for your efforts, I am proud of you," expressed Mary with a motherly smile, sweat building up on her forehead.
She did not have the strength to stand still and slowly went down to sit down, her back still standing straight even in her condition.
"Mother! Are you feeling sick?" expressed Andrea with concern, approaching her mother and only her hands.
"Worry not my dear, sickness it is not; you will know soon enough," she declared with a cryptic tone of voice.
Mary took sight of her daughter in armour, looking as beautiful as a thorny rose. A part of her mind was eager to see how she would transform under the damned procedures, while the rest simply despised the curse of responsibility her family had to bear. She strengthened her resolve and slowly stood up, her back straight throughout the whole raise, her daughter assisting her.
Mary took some distance from her daughter, and standing still, eye to eye with her daughter, asked solemnly:
"Andrea Deeprock, you have proven yourself and are fit to become a Saint Paladin. Are you ready to accept your fate, and embody the responsibility endured by the Deeprock family generations after generations?"
Andrea, looking proud, executed a knight salute and solemnly answered:
"I, Andrea Deeprock, am ready to shoulder that responsibility."
A fateful silence settled, symbolic of a historical moment where a Saint Paladin would pass on the baton to the next generation; or in this case, a stone.
"Marvellous!" expressed Mary with a goofy smile. "Now, follow me," she said while turning back, towards a backdoor hidden behind the presbytery.
