As the group, now accompanied by the royal knights, made their way towards the Academy, Brayan rode alongside Hans, one of the knights entrusted with the King's orders. The rhythmic clattering of hooves on the cobblestone streets set the backdrop for their conversation.
"Sir Brayan," Hans responded with a respectful nod, "my training has been progressing well, thanks to the rigorous drills and challenges presented by the Academy's seasoned instructors. Each day is a test of mettle, but I am determined to uphold the honor bestowed upon me by the King."
Brayan regarded Hans with a discerning gaze. "The Academy shapes not only our skills with the sword but also our character and dedication to the realm. It is a crucible that forges knights of unwavering resolve. Embrace the challenges, Hans, for they are the stones upon which your strength is honed."
Hans, visibly encouraged by Brayan's words, straightened in his saddle. "I shall take your counsel to heart, Sir Brayan. The honor of serving the King and the realm is a responsibility I bear with pride."
Brayan nodded approvingly. "Your commitment does credit to the King's trust. As we embark on this journey to the Academy, let each stride be a step toward the ideals that define a true knight. Our path may be fraught with challenges, but it is through adversity that we emerge tempered and resolute."
As they neared the plaza of the Academy, Hans's solemn demeanor caught Brayan's attention. Sensing the gravity of the situation, Brayan urged him to speak.
"Sir Brayan," Hans began, his voice weighted with concern, "there's something I must inform you about before we arrive at the plaza."
Brayan's brow furrowed with curiosity, but before he could inquire further, his eyes fell upon the bustling crowd that lined the road leading to the Academy. The throngs of people, adorned in their finest attire, painted a vivid picture of anticipation and excitement. Yet, beneath the surface, Brayan sensed a palpable tension that lingered in the air.
Hans's voice broke through Brayan's contemplation, offering an explanation for the gathering. "Today, by an unusual coincidence, is the Coming of Age Day ceremony for the King's son. The Selection ceremony is set to take place concurrently," Hans explained, choosing his words with care. "Sons and daughters of lords from across Xesses send their offspring for Selection, aspiring to be part of the same class as the King's son. It's a subtle political maneuver, a chance to curry favor with the King."
Brayan's expression darkened with understanding. "So, even within the walls of the Academy, politics reign supreme," he murmured, a note of resignation in his voice.
"It seems that everywhere we turn, the machinations of power and influence are at play," Brayan continued, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. "But amidst the grandeur and pomp, let us not forget our purpose. We are here to fulfill our duty to the King and the realm, regardless of the schemes that unfold around us."
With a heavy sigh, Brayan urged his horse forward, leading the procession towards the plaza. The clamor of the crowd seemed to grow louder with each step, a cacophony of ambition and aspiration that echoed through the streets of Elodor.
As they approached the plaza, the air buzzed with a different kind of excitement – a palpable undercurrent of ambition and rivalry. Brayan, navigating this complex landscape, prepared himself for the dual spectacle of the Coming of Age Day and the Selection ceremony, where the destinies of the young aspirants would converge and entwine with the complex dance of politics within the hallowed halls of the Academy.
The road to the plaza of the Academy, usually a thoroughfare of anticipation and excitement, had transformed into a narrow path choked with people. Brayan, sensing the growing tension, dismounted his horse, a signal for his party to follow suit. The other knights, including Hans, mirrored Brayan's actions, stepping onto the crowded thoroughfare with an air of solidarity.
As they walked, the claustrophobic atmosphere closed in around them, and the once-welcoming cheers of the crowd seemed to dissipate. Unwelcome eyes now fixed upon the servants and children in Brayan's entourage, their presence stirring discomfort among the onlookers. Whispers, like venomous serpents, slithered through the crowd.
Some say the servants group is an eyesore on this auspicious day, a hushed voice carried over the heads of the gathering crowd. Brayan's party felt the weight of these words, the disdain directed not at them but at those they had brought with them.
As Brayan and his companions walked amidst the sea of people, some voices, brave in their audacity, rose above the rest. "Take your filth away from the road! This day is not meant for the likes of them," shouted a disgruntled individual, their words echoing through the narrow confines of the street.
The tension reached a crescendo when, from the periphery of the crowd, rotted food began to rain down upon the servants. The impact of discarded fruits and vegetables, once vibrant and full of life, now served as a hostile atmosphere that enveloped the procession.
Brayan, his jaw set in determined resolve, continued to lead his party through the gauntlet of disapproval. His gaze, steady and unwavering, offered a silent shield to the vulnerable members of his entourage. The narrow road, once a symbol of passage to knowledge, now became a testament to the harsh realities that awaited them within the politicized halls of the Academy.
The tension in the air reached its boiling point as the crowd's hostility intensified, culminating in a torrent of insults and rotten projectiles directed at the servants and children under Brayan's protection. Kanan, his patience worn thin, could no longer bear witness to the unwarranted cruelty.
"Enough!" Kanan's voice boomed through the crowd, cutting through the sea of disdainful whispers. His words reverberated with an authority that demanded attention. The abrupt command echoed off the stone walls, momentarily drowning out the hateful clamor.
The crowd fell silent, their faces frozen in surprise and uncertainty. Kanan, undeterred, continued to address the gathering with a gaze that bore into the heart of their prejudices. "These are not your enemies. They are under our protection, and any harm that befalls them will be met with consequences."
His stern words hung in the air, a challenge to the collective conscience of those who had chosen the path of cruelty. The uneasy hush that settled over the plaza spoke volumes, a momentary respite from the hostility that had clouded the procession.
Brayan, grateful for Kanan's intervention, locked eyes with his fellow knight, silently acknowledging the courage it took to confront the prejudices that had marred their journey. The road to the plaza, though fraught with challenges, now lay open before them, a testament to the power of a resolute voice in the face of injustice.