| Anton stood from his kneeling, an exercise that cause small amounts of pain shooting from his knee. The elegant blue of his cloak draped masterfully across his ornate full plate, distracting all, hopefully, away from the nervousness and complete lack of comfort that his face portrayed. Waves of self-consciousness had pelted him before and during the ceremony as thousands of eyes split their time looking at him among five others. Even now, as he stood, he felt not the hero, he felt not the savior of the darkened land, instead sweat beaded down his forehead, collecting on his brow and choosing one of the paths downward, to either side of his eyes or between them both.
He kept his eyes lowered as he nodded his appreciation to the four other kings and then finally the fifth, his king. And finally Anton waited for the other five strangers to ready themselves before leaving the assembly. And he hoped that this happened sooner, rather than later. | 
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