"Zahariel, I think we're going to be late!"
The boy struggled through the snow, his boots sinking deep into it, his breath condensing in the cold wind.
His brother's voice came from behind, laced with obvious anxiety.
Zahariel looked up at the darkening sky and gritted his teeth. "Don't worry, we can make it. There's still time!"
Winter days were always short. If they couldn't reach Aldurukh before dark, they would lose their chance to take the test.
Though they were only seven this year and could come back next year...
Neither of them wanted to give up this precious opportunity.
This year's snowfall had been exceptionally heavy and sudden.
They came from different branches of the same noble family, sharing a similar appearance. The same thin faces and hooked noses, inherited from their ancestors, often made people mistake them for brothers.
But their bloodline was already very diluted. They weren't true nobles. They had no knightly title to inherit, nor any substantial wealth.
His family was slightly better off than Nemiel's. His family had an ox.
They could have taken the ox cart, which would have given them more time.
But unfortunately, the ox was sick, so they had to walk.
They were already exhausted from the journey, their energy expenditure far exceeding expectations.
They knew their chances of passing the test in their current state were slim, but having come this far, they were reluctant to give up.
Zahariel estimated there were at most two hours until sunset.
If they could reach Aldurukh within an hour, they could have an hour to rest, which would improve their odds.
If not, they wouldn't take the test, and would wait until next year to try again, better prepared.
Just then, Zahariel heard a low rumbling sound.
Zahariel asked, "Nemiel, do you hear that?"
Nemiel shouted excitedly, "Look behind us, Zahariel! It's knights! They're coming towards us!"
The two boys stopped and watched the approaching knights.
When the knights reined in their horses, the boys' gazes fell on the lead knight.
He was twice the height of a normal man, a towering mountain, making his horse look unusually small.
The knight looked down at the dusty boys. "Here for the trial?"
Zahariel lowered his head nervously. "Yes, Sir."
"You're a bit late."
"Our ox is sick. We had to walk."
The knight suddenly extended his armoured hand. "Get on. You won't make it before dark otherwise."
Zahariel and Nemiel looked up in surprise. Zahariel jumped, grabbing the arm, and was easily lifted onto the horse.
The knight turned to his companion. "Brother Amadis, you take the other boy."
Nemiel's eyes widened, his voice trembling with excitement. "You... you're Sir Amadis?"
Amadis smiled gently. "You know me?"
Nemiel nodded excitedly. "I grew up hearing stories about you!"
"Which ones do you like best?"
"I like best the story of how you single-handedly defeated the Blood Knights!"
Amadis replied, "That's exaggerated. It wasn't single-handed. I also relied on the help of my brothers to defeat the Blood Knights, though I did defeat their leader in a duel."
Zahariel carefully examined the towering knight. "Then you must be Sir Lion."
Knight asked, "What makes you say that?"
Zahariel answered, "Legend says you are twice the height of other knights. I think there can't be another knight like that on all of Caliban."
The knight let out a low laugh. "At least not on Caliban."
Zahariel's heart pounded like a drum. He couldn't believe he was riding with a legendary hero. It felt surreal!
Sir Lion's immense body was close behind him, making him both nervous and excited.
This legendary knight had just returned from an expedition in the Caliban forest, leading the Order in a campaign against countless savage Great Beasts.
His return must mean the expedition had been a glorious victory.
Other orders might have their complaints about the expedition, but in the hearts of Caliban's commoners, the Order was their guardian spirit.
Especially the residents of the southern towns, who had witnessed the Order's achievements firsthand.
The Great Beasts that once plagued the south had almost vanished. Caravans could travel safely, and farmers could work without fear.
Some had even composed ballads about Sir Lion's deeds, sung in the streets.
Though Sir Amadis was also a famous legendary knight, he paled in comparison to Sir Lion.
He was luckier than Nemiel. He had just answered the knight, so he got to ride with a legend!
Riding together today, they would fight side-by-side tomorrow!
Lost in his own world, Zahariel giggled foolishly.
It wasn't until his body suddenly felt lighter that he snapped back to reality. The knight had placed him on the snow.
'Good luck. I'll be waiting for you in the Order."
"I will! I definitely will!"
Zahariel was inspired. He stared at the knight with burning eyes and clenched his fists, shouting loudly.
Only when the knight had completely disappeared did he dejectedly lower his head.
Zahariel took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs.
Calm down, Zahariel. You must not disappoint the knight!
He looked around. Snow covered the entire forest.
The fortress was a few hundred metres away. They stood halfway between the castle and the forest.
Between them was a snow-covered open space, with knee-deep snow.
Oddly, a wooden cabin stood on the path to the gate, its tarpaulin also covered in snow.
A wooden sign stood outside the cabin, reading: Trial Information Desk.
Zahariel and Nemiel exchanged a knowing glance and walked towards the cabin.
Knock, knock! Zahariel tapped lightly on the oak door.
The door opened inward. The wave of heat that hit them made them step back half a pace.
Pine logs crackled in the fireplace inside, illuminating dozens of young faces.
They sat in twos and threes on rough benches, curiously examining the newcomers.
Clearly, they were all here for the trial.
To the right of the door, like in a tavern, stood an oak table. A boy sitting behind it called to them: "Come in and sit. Remember to close the door."
Zahariel gently closed the door. "What is this place? And who are you?"
The boy scratched his head awkwardly. "Trial Information Desk. I'm Baldr. Why does everyone ask that? Is my handwriting that bad?"
Nemiel said "Maybe we can't read."
Commoners indeed had no chance to learn. Nemiel and Zahariel's family wasn't wealthy either. They didn't know many characters.
Zahariel asked, "What's an information desk?"
Baldr replied, "You can ask me anything about the trial."
Zahariel examined the boy. He was about ten, not much older than them.
"Did you take the trial too?"
Baldr nodded, "Three years ago."
"So you're a squire of the Order?"
"I didn't make it. I fell before dawn, just half an hour short."
"Too bad." Zahariel's eyes held no contempt, his voice full of genuine regret.
"I used to think so too."
"And now?"
"Now I don't mind. Sir Caelan's teaching has benefited me greatly."
Zahariel leaned forward curiously. "I heard Sir Caelan and Sir Lion are father and son?"
"I only take questions related to the trial."
"Alright then. Why are they all sitting here?"
"Waiting to sign up for the trial, like you."
"Why not now?"
Baldr asked, "The trial starts the moment you sign up. Are you sure you want to sign up now?"
Nemiel asked, "What if someone signed up this morning?"
"Then they'd have to stand all day and night."
"That's not fair."
"Maybe that's part of the test."
"Testing what?"
"Patience, composure, wisdom. There are many virtues a knight needs."
"I suggest you rest here a while longer. It will increase your chances."
"Even knights prepare thoroughly before a hunt. Rashness doesn't help victory."
"So don't feel ashamed. It's not cowardice, it's wisdom."
"There's still an hour until dark. And maybe you're only half an hour from success."
Zahariel took this to heart. Baldr's words came from experience, because he had truly been only half an hour short.
Even if they had some resistance, after hearing Baldr's words, they would honestly follow his advice.
They all wanted to be knights, so they'd want to increase their chances.
And knights did it too, so it wasn't shameful.
Zahariel touched his empty stomach and hesitantly asked: "Could we get something to eat here?"
They had expended a lot of energy. He wanted to replenish it.
Baldr gave an advice, "You can eat, but I suggest you don't eat too much. And drink little water."
"Remember to use the bathroom before the trial officially starts. Otherwise, you'll have trouble in the middle of the night."
Nemiel took a hard baguette from his bag. "Have you got any water?"
Baldr poured them two cups of hot tea. "Don't drink water. Have a cup of tea instead. It's brewed with herbs to ward off the cold. It'll help you get through the night."
Zahariel asked, "Isn't that against the rules?"
Baldr replied, "It's like the trial time. As long as you sign up before the deadline, it's fine."
Zahariel was still a little worried. 'What if the herbs were actually laxatives?'
He looked at the other children. They were also holding cups, so it was probably not poisoned.
Otherwise, the Order wouldn't allow this cabin to exist. But would the Order allow someone to teach candidates how to bend the rules?
Zahariel asked, "Who told you to set up this information desk?"
Baldr said, "I wanted to."
"The teacher told me there are three kinds of people in this world."
"Those who, having been rained on themselves, hold an umbrella for others."
"Those who, having been rained on, are indifferent to others getting wet."
"Those who, having been rained on, will tear up others' umbrellas."
"The common people are the second kind. But we should strive to be the first and despise the third."
"I failed the trial, by just half an hour. So I want to hold an umbrella for others."
Nemiel asked, "And the Order agreed?"
"How could they? The information desk isn't against the rules, but it's not exactly compliant either. The teacher pleaded for me, and they made an exception."
Zahariel asked, "Is there anything you want to remind us about the trial?"
Baldr raised a finger. "Just one thing. Never, ever, ever, ever give up."
The Order's trial had been going on for decades, and its content was well known.
From sunset until sunrise the next day. As long as you didn't give up, you could become a knight.
Unfortunately, knowing is easier than doing. Otherwise, there wouldn't be so few passing each year.
The long night was not easy to endure.
Baldr actually couldn't give them much advice.
As long as they didn't give up, they would eventually seize the opportunity.
Even if they didn't become knights, they could become the teacher's students.
But if they gave up themselves, even if they had the chance, they wouldn't grasp it.
Nemiel quietly elbowed his cousin. "Only this many?"
"There are usually about two hundred each year."
Nemiel counted roughly. Only thirty or forty were here. It seemed not everyone took Baldr's advice.
If not for Zahariel, Nemiel would have been torn too.
Because he felt that signing up early might make a good impression on the Order. Others probably thought the same.
But on reflection, what use was a good impression if they failed the trial?
Better to just sit tight.
.....
Amadis sighed with satisfaction. "It looks like we're getting another batch of excellent recruits this year."
"Thirty-two squires passed last year. This year will probably be similar."
"At this rate, we might run out of power armour."
Lion said, "If the number of squires increases, we'll just raise the standard for promotion to probationary knight. We can always maintain balance."
Luther spurred his horse to catch up. "But isn't this taking a shortcut?"
Lion said, "They're just being observant. It's a quality a knight should have."
Luther didn't agree.
It was Lion's father who opened the consulting room, so of course he would agree. He could make black sound white.
But the consulting room was also a product of the times.
They had been crusading against Great Beasts for years, causing a spike in knight casualties. They needed new blood, but the trial standards couldn't be lowered. The Order would rather have no one than someone unworthy.
The consulting room was a trick, but not against the rules. It happened to align with the Order's needs.
And in the future, the Order's enemies would be more than just Great Beasts.
They did indeed need more knights.