Every man, woman and child who was not appointed to serve under the king would be in attendance of this meeting. Every word spoken would be recorded by squires and set down in historical documents. Crowds bustled and pushed and shoved their way closer as to be better able to hear. Small children were hoisted onto their fathers shoulders and the rest of the young gathered on near by roof tops, tree branches and balconies. The entire city united under the green and gold banner bearing the crest of its heritage: a great phoenix surrounded by flame. All were equal; nobility and common, all were alike as one. Today was not a day to be a respecter of persons. Hearts were heavy and minds were troubled. Everyone was going to lose someone. And no matter the preparation, we knew we were not prepared to grieve that loss.

            A member of the kings high council made his way to the forefront of the platform facing the crowds. He was an older man, years had worn his face and his brow was heavy, nearly covering his eyes. He raised a hand to bring silence over the crowd, indicating that he meant to speak. No one moved or uttered a word. We waited for his words.

            “Citizens of Lochliedran, I give you His majesty, King Brodikahn.”

            The council member made a swift movement to the side placing his arm over his chest, his hand in a fist, in acknowledgment of royalty. As he moved aside, a tall man clad in majestic steel armor stepped forward. He wore his blade at his side and held his helmet under his arm. He was younger than his father had been during the last war. He had dark brown hair with a dark complexion. His eyes were dark and somber, and as he faced the crowd, we all saw a sadness in his eyes that told us he was dreading what he would be saying to us. He stood silent for a moment to survey his people before him. Every last one of them followed the council member in crossing their chests with their fists. The arm over the heart symbolized honor, the fist, strength. The two were the foundations of this place and these people. Just as the crowd made the gesture in reverence to the king, he made the same gesture in reverence to Lochliedran. The people didn’t smile, but spirits lifted by this mans action. He was one of them.

            “This is not a day to be celebrated. But this is a day to be remembered. Lochliedran, you have been challenged by troops from a far off nation. Your welfare and security has been threatened, with the intention of destruction. We have fought and risen victorious in battle before and we have yet to fade from the memory of neighboring countries. Many years before today, we were forced into battle with these barbarians of Tiramorden. We defeated them in the end. But not without a promise for revenge. Every one of you knows the story. My father, your king of old, believed in this place and, he also believed the threats of a second attack to come. He did not live to see the second attack, but I have. They have awoken a sleeping dragon, and we will answer their call. My countrymen, I stand before you now, not just as your ruler, but also as your protector, and as your equal. I, too answer the call to arms against this darkness. And so, today, I join and lead the fight to defend our country. I charge all of you to take heart and stand firm. Do all you can to serve and protect one another. These are not the days to stand alone, these are not the days to lose faith in your country. I serve you all in battle and, if necessary, in death. We will see this nation through until the end. Stand with me, serve with me and carry the torch with me. I leave you now, in faith of safe return.”

            Some brushed away silent tears, others held their heads up with pride at the words of the King. They all knew what must be done, no matter the cost. Lochliedran must survive. The king took a step back and turned to the council of men who had advised him and aided his rule. He bowed his head to them and they to him. He left the platform and made his was toward the outer reaches of the city where thousands of men gathered, waiting for their orders.

            Dusk fell across the land as the soldiers prepared to take their leave. Families huddled together bidding farewell and sharing a last embrace. I made my way toward the officers quarters. I knew I didn’t have much time, but I had to see him; I had to. I’d rushed from my mother’s side when the crowds had dispersed, almost desperate to reach him before the troops left. I stopped to catch my breath from running and to survey the men, searching for him. He stood alone outside the officer’s tent, preparing his equipment. He saw me standing there, unable to move. His hardened look of determination softened and his sapphire eyes became calm like the sea after a storm. Without a word, he stepped forward and held out his hand to me. I took his hand and gripped it as firmly as I could as he drew me closer to him. We stood there for a long time, no words passing between us. We’d already said our goodbyes and shared parting tears the previous night. We didn’t need words now, just each other. Our fingers intertwined at our sides and I was the only one who knew that he was trembling.

            “There is so much I want so say.” He spoke so softly that he almost whispered. He came closer to lean his forehead down on mine. He stood nearly five inches taller than I and his large hands enveloped my own. Both our eyes closed and I listened to his heavy breathing. I knew he fought away words that would give his concentration away to emotion. A mayhem of noise surrounded us, but I didn’t hear a thing... only him.

            “Would I be a fool to ask you to wait for me?” He asked.

            “In my heart, I am yours. You have no need to ask.” My grip on his hands tightened as if the gesture would sustain my words. He raised his head, his eyes still fixed on mine. His lips pursed and he spoke again.

            “I know. I know. You will keep me steady. This will not be the last time I will look into your eyes.”

            I refused to cry. I did not want him to remember me with tears in my eyes. I reached to my shoulder and removed the green sash from my cloak. I wrapped the delicate fabric around his upper arm and secured it in a knot. He looked down at it for a moment before returning to me. I didn’t smile; neither did he. He took my hand again and squeezed it.

            “Captain, it’s time! Report for duty!” A call came from a decorated higher officer addressed to him. He looked to the officer and nodded, acknowledging his orders. He looked back at me. He didn’t say goodbye. He released my hand and turned to gather his weapon and provisions. He walked away, with shoulders held high and the determination refixed to his face. He didn’t look back; I hadn’t expected him to. I watched as he and his men mounted their horses. His men waited for him to lead the way toward the city gates with the rest of the army. They filed out, each man with fire in his eyes.

            The gates were closed and secured behind them and the drums began to beat again. I stood rooted to the spot where he’d left me. I stood facing the gate with my vision out of focus. My king, my kinsmen and my love were gone. I would not shed tears until the end and until then I knew I would do whatever I possibly could to keep them alive, not only on the battlefield, but in my heart. The families and supporters meandered back toward their homes, to begin life without their loved ones. There had never been a promise of their return but still, we all had hope. The king’s valiant words drifted back into my mind, “Stand with me, serve with me and carry the torch with me.” And I would. I would see him again.