A touch of duty

[Helm_Ortega]

"Your skin is flawless. Why, I bet you've never seen a blemish on your face a day in your life, have you?"

Skin, tanned and tight on a chiseled face, with full lips and shining white teeth, the color of mint candies, seemed to glow with an unearthly radiance. He was disrobed, save his undergarments, with a well honed stomach made all the more apparent with a strategic tightening of the abdominal muscles.

"You beast!"

Ivories gnashed fiercely, his deep blue eyes, wild with feigned rage, glared at his most devious opponent.

"Have at you fiend!"

His biceps tightened and bulged, his fists striking out towards the sky as all the muscles in his body clenched at once.

He was a Paladin. He was a divine agent of absolute goodliness. He was powerful and yet, supple, like a jungle cat, stalking a wild pig through the depths of the shadowy jungle's heart.

"ROAR!"

Strong teeth gnashed again at his opponent, who doubled back, almost falling over with mock-fright.

"Stay back, you, you righteous monster!"

And then he spotted, out of the corner of his eye, his weapon of choice. It was a large hammer with a haft of untainted steel; a weapon of war! A tool for banishing evil back from whence it came. He dove for it, rolling gracefully like an agile, well trained warrior, scooping the weapon up in his left hand and wheeling about to face his opponent once again.

"What do you think of me now, monster! HOO-AH!"

All the muscles in the divine knight's body tightened again, causing his abdomen, jaw, biceps, and leg muscles to jut once again in that way that women found so alluring.

"Is this what you want creature? Are you sure? Because once you get some of this, there's no going back!"

He closed his eyes tightly, knowing that he would not need them to vanquish his deceptive opponent. He brought up his hammer and parried, and again, and again. The villain was relentless, but so was Helm Ortega!

"HI-YA!" He screamed out with his eyes clenched tightly shut, losing himself in the moment.

"CRASH!"

The sound of glass splintering into a thousand pieces echoed throughout the room, followed by a high-pitched grating laughter that to the paladin, seemed to go on for far too long.

"Moooo-ooom!" The trilling voice called out causing the noble warrior to grimace. "Helm's doing that weird thing in front of the mirror again and he broke it!"

[Helm_Ortega]

Wiping his hands on a white oil rag, Helm tossed his kit onto the clean white sheets of his bed, much to Nan-Nan's dismay.

"Eeeeeevery DAY... You POLISH and clean that wretched, rusty armor, and Eeeeeeeevery DAY, you throw your tools onto the bed afterwards," Nan-Nan scolded past the length of her crooked, hawk-beaked nose. "Do you think linens wash themSELVES, Master Ortega?"

"Can you hand me the that wire brush? I can't figure out how I keep getting mud all over a hammer I never use..."

The old nurse-maid seemed to levitate across the floor, her impossibly thin legs completely concealed in the starched folds of her outrageous black dress. On more than one occasion, Helm convinced the youngest of the Orteagan children that Nan-Nan had used dark magics to infiltrate the family, so that she might steal their feet because she did not have any of her own. So refined were her movements, she truly seemed to glide more-so than walk.

Once a personal handmaiden to the wife of Rudolph Ortega, Helm's grandfather and cousin to the late king, Nan-Nan had been around nobles and fineries all her life. She valued discipline, quiet, and diligence, and did not endure disobedience well.

Instead of grabbing the brush as the young man asked, the old crone took a fork from the silver dishware on the nightstand that contained Helm's unattended breakfast, and began to dig the teeth against the enamal surface of the crockery causing a terrible highpitched scraping noise that assaulted the unsuspecting boy's senses.

"You scaly old reptile!" Helm spat through gritted teeth as he tried futiley to protect his ears. The scraping came to a crescendo before stopping.

"Now, hurrry yourself along. You must take the lastborns to the cathedral with you today. Young Olan is attending his first awakening, and your father wants him to be presented by a commenced knight - you DO, plan on commencing this year, do you NOT?" Nan-Nan asked sharply, raising a thread-thin eyebrow to impossible heights, eyelids slathered in pale blue eyeshadow.

"Got it," Helm replied, rising from the bed and holding his breast plate in place and turning around.

The Ortega family armor had seen many bearers. Helm's eldest brother Jovan wore it until his commencing, as did their father, uncles, grandfather, and so on. It was antique with many straps and buckles which made it hopeless to don it on one's own. The elderly maid took both shoulder straps in hand and yanked tightly on each, securing the armor to the young man's body with an "Oof," and assisted him with the belting on the back of the heavy steel boot plating.

"And young mister," Nan-Nan paused. "Your mother has decided that if you wish to continue swaggering at your reflection, then it will be on you're own coin. That's the last mirror she shall be replacing for the likes of you."

"Nan-Nan, it would be a crime to deny such a lucky reflection a chance to gaze at this magnum opus of manliness," the dim boy replied, trying unsuccessfully to turn his head and get a glimpse of his chainmail covered posterior.

"Where did YOU learn a phrase like that?" Nan asked mockingly.

"Kaitlyn taugh me! She's so smart!" Helm turned around beaming, all teeth and cheekbones.

"Well I dare say she spends too much time feeding alley cats like yourself. She's a nice girl and doesn't need you to distract her. She's so far above you, you'd be far more successful courting the clouds themselves."

"I'm going to be a paladin-ordained in less than four months! That makes me, pretty much the next best thing to being a prince. How can she resist!?" Helm exclaimed victoriously as his attendant ushered him from the room with a huff, muttering something about coffins.

[Helm_Ortega]

There were about thirty people living in House Ortega at any given time. Most of the guards and help had been serving there since well before Helm was born. When the time of peace was declared, as an act of good-will, Lord Ortega released all but a small fraction of his house's millitary force back to their families. As the legend of the Paladin-Magisters grew, and the last of Day Haven's enemies fell to their martial might, the need for guards was waning, and everyone wanted to return to their homes and start lives of their own.

Nan-Nan ran the household for the most part, organizing the maids and cooks, and doling out pay at the end of every month. She also served as the house advocate in legal affairs, and had a hand in personally raising every child that was born into the manor. Of the staff, Helm could only be bothered to remember the names of the cute ones.

Helm made his way through the labyrinth of stone hallways that comprised most of the manor. Each twisting pathway stemmed from the Great Hall - a grand, towering room in the heart of the manor that stretched from the floor to the ceiling three stories above. Once a war-room in his grandfather's time, it was now converted to entertain guests and from it, one could get anywhere inside the building on any floor.

"Ladies," Helm said with a wink, passing some of the more comely servant girls while making his way through the hall, to which they giggled and spoke in hushed voices, giggling all the louder afterwards. He navigated to the massive oaken doors that lead to the exterior of the compound, snakeing an apple from an elderly servant bringing in the morning groceries. Biting into it noisily, he waiting patiently for his youngest siblings to finish their grooming.

Taking in the hall from his vantagepoint at its forefront, the young man counted nine people, none of them family. Lord Ortega was bedridden with an illness that the healers said would pass in the next week. Lady Ortega would be in the gardens, preparing for an afternoon salon to celebrate the coming of the warm, spring weather. Merchants of all castes would arrive, hocking gold and fineries as well as art and pottery, all hoping the noblewomen would choose them above their peers.

"Boooring..." Helm said outloud, turning his eyes to the rafters.

Helm's eldest brother Jovan had already commenced and finished his initiation into Knighthood. He was currently away on mainland Althanas, serving as a dignitary in some foriegn political event. But he had always been more studious and diplomatic than Helm, and the young paladin doubted very much that anyone would ever leave the brokering of peace in his hands. Jovan's own family - his beautiful wife Liley, and their son Sampson - both lived at the manor while Jovan was away, and they were welcomed wholeheartedly as part of the family.

Next came Helm, on the side of males, followed by Osric and finally Olan. Osric was four years younger than Helm and had a large gap between his front teeth that caused him to whistle while he spoke. Olan, and his twin Olivia, had just reached the age where they would begin their studies at the cathedral, and were the tardy children that Helm waited for at the main doors.

On the female side of the family tree, were the elder daughters, Victoria and Gwendollyn, who constantly squabled, being only hours apart in birth. Victoria was exceptionally tall, with the build of a warrior, where Gwendollyn was petite and lithe, but as poisonous as a snake when it came to a verbal battle. Evelyn, Cynthia, and Garta flew under Helm's radar, spending most of their time with the ladies-in-waiting learning to be "proper young women."

"Whew," Helm sighed. Even with a veritible castle for a home, it was almost impossible to find time to one's self on the family estate.

After what seemed like forever to the unimaginative paladin, the lastborns arrived with their contingent of hairstylists and nurse-maids, and the trio left the manor.

[Helm_Ortega]

The noble district of Day Haven was far removed from the city proper, being closer to the soaring tower-bridges of the kingdom's namesake castle. As with most any other kingdom in the times of old, it was established when a king made a gift of land to his highest ranking knights. Each knight ruled over a small ammount of serfs, who served their just lords with dedication and loyalty. The individual fiefdoms grew outwards from around Castle Day Haven, and in time, a prospering kingdom emerged, with law and justice as its paramount. The nobility made up the inner hub of the great city, a full mile away from the nearest plebian neighbour.

"How many spirits watch over every knight?" Helm asked his youngest brother, ignoring the fact that Olivia was sitting atop his shoulders and using his immaculate blonde hair as reigns, tugging sharply on his scalp. Walking along beside his sibling, Olan did his best to match the paladin's rolling gait, never complaining when he started to get left behind.

"Five!" Both twins answered in unison as they often did. In truth, it was a little creepy, the bond that the youngest Orteagans shared. They cried, laughed, and spoke, always in tandum, unless questioned separately. But they were his brother and sister, which meant he loved them immensely, no matter how creepy they may have been.

"Great! Buuuut... what are they, smartie-pantses?" He asked, thinking he had stumped the duo.

"Hope, courage... duty... honor," This time only Olan answered, scrubbing his hair, doing his best to remember the final sign. Helm was still impressed, doubting he himself could have named any at the tender age of four.

"And loooove!" Olivia chimed in, tugging enthusiastically on Helm's blonde locks, causing his eyes to tear up.

"Ow! Good job guys! You're going to kick-ass today!"

"Don't say ass. Mother says it makes you sound un-knightly," the twins replied in unison once again, responding quickly to their brother's cussing, which caused the would-be-knight to smile widely. Helm had never been praised for his wits, and it did his heart good to know that the lastborns were sharp as spears.

"Sorry, sorry. So why do we recognize those five as the 'true' spirits?" Helm asked, attempting to push the limits of the young students' knowledge.

"Because..." Olan said, scratching his head, becoming more apparently frustrated with himself.

"Don't sweat it little man," Helm replied cheerfully scooping Olan up and hoisting him along the cobblestone country road, upside-down. "We say they're the true spirits, because we can always trust them to... never mislead us. Like, when we know something is wrong, we can feel it in our hearts, right!?" Helm finished his explaination abruptly, spinning in tight circles, causing the children to squeal and undoing countless hours of hair, make-up, and wardrobe. The act escalated into a brawl in the bright, green, grassy feild along the road, getting grass stains on the children's crisp, white church clothes. After letting himself be subdued by the pair, he sat up, catching a glimpse of worry on Olivia and Olan's faces.

"What's wrong Salt and Pepper?" the pet names he adopted for the two.

"What if the spirits don't like me?" Olan asked, frowning. "What if they say he can't be a knight?" Olivia followed up with genuine concern on her brother's behalf.

Helm turned and rose, helping his younger siblings do the same. He covered the distance to the road quickly, not wanting the children to see his nervous visage.

"Don't worry about it!" Helm wheeled around, a bright smile once again plastered on his chisled face. "You still have a super-long time before you need to worry about that. You have to be my age before..."

[Helm_Ortega]

"Late! And FILTHY, no less," The nun scrutanized the pair of youngsters. "Your father will hear of this!"

The Cathedral of Light was to the direct south of Castle Day Haven, the Ortega estate to the castle's immediate west. It was a long walk on foot and the twins were not yet strong enough to handle the long trip by horseback. Helm could have opted to take a carriage for the journey, but the spring air, sweet with the smell of blossoms from the surrounding orchards, was far too enticing for the happy-go-lucky knight to ignore.

"Only ten minutes. I was waaaay later for mine. And dirtier!" Helm argued against the words of the elderly woman.

"Yes, I recall," the nun answered without missing a beat, narrowing her eyes. "But we actually have high hopes for Lord Olan and Lady Olivia."

"Ouch," Helm responded dryly.

The group of four stood at the base of the cathedral's front steps, which lead up fifty feet or so to the cathedral itself. But even for all the cathedral's magesty, it was dwarfed in size by the immense Castle Day Haven in the distance. Helm had always thought the castle looked as though it were designed by children, stacking blocks upon blocks, making the soaring spires as tall as could be without toppling over. One could see the castle in detail from anywhere in the noble district. Stone bridges spanning the empty air between spires, hundreds of feet in the air. All reds and blues, with large, silvery windows that reflected the sun's rays like beacons of hope.

By comparison, the cathedral was much less grand. It was created by the same artisans that designed the castle, but it lacked the overwhelming size of the King's home. High above, in the central spire, almost a thousand feet by Helm's guess, was the Cloister of the Sun; the imperial chaimber. Somewhere in the sky above, King Marcus Creed, the most noble paladin in Day Haven's history, looked down at the land his forefathers built out of dust.

"I wonder if he can see me..."

"Wonder if you can see you? Helm, have you been listening to ANYTHING, I've said? When are you going to learn some propriety Helm Ortega?" the nun asked angrily.

"Hey kids, good luck! Nan-Nan will be here by nightfall to pick you up today. Do your best!" Helm said enthusiastically, morphing his face to a characture of encouragement, two thumbs framing his face.

"One day you'll wish you didn't ignore me, Helm Ortega, and on that day..." the nun was cut short.

"Helm Ortega, is that you!?" An angelic voice called from the top of the cathedral's outer staircase.

"MISTER, Ortega, I am talking to you!" the nun said sternly, trying to steal back the young man's focus.

But he was lost.

Placing a gauntleted hand over the priestess' face and gently relocating her out of his view of his honey, Helm moved up the first few stairs towards the approaching maiden, ignoring the flabbergasted "Harumph!" of the elderly woman, and the mocking cat-calls of his younger siblings and the few bystanders. Helm's affection for the beautiful and talented Kaitlyn Creed was known to just about everyone in Dayhaven.

[Helm_Ortega]

"What was yours like, Helm?" the young woman, her beauty almost celestial, asked.

"Umm... You know. You sit in the room, priests light up some incense. Spirits fly around the room, and afterwards we all ate some cake." Helm said shrugging off the question. "But you had your awakening in the castle! That must have been something else!" Helm said enthusiastically, his mood suddenly on the up-swing.

"Yes, it was," Kaitlyn replied, smiling at her shoes, and sneaking a glance at Helm. "King Marcus was there too, you should have seen the royal spirits Helm, they were breath taking. And you would have really liked their armor. It's that antique knight's armor that you talk about. They looked so noble... and handsome," she added off-handedly, once again trying to sneak a sideward glance at the paladin.

"Pfft! Mine's so much better! And I'll have you know that the royal smiths made this armor for my great-grandfather. In fact, you probably just didn't notice, but I bet its the same as the stuff King Marcus wears." Helm replied, holding his head up high, his jutting cheekbones slightly flushed in color.

"Oh no, I'm quite sure it was different," Kaitlyn replied, smiling again, knowing that her teasing was getting to the nobleman. "It was inlayed with gold, and his sword glowed with magic runes that I didn't even know existed!"

"Yeah, well... If I had millions of gold coins to drop on armor and ordinance..." Helm trailed off, kicking a clump of dirt off the road.

He knew she was just teasing him, but in truth, it bothered Helm more than just a little. Although Helm was a nobleman, Kaitlyn may as well have been royalty, and she didn't make a secret of that fact. Helm's family was honorable and successful, and deserved the wealth that the family possessed for years of loyal service to country and crown, but Kaitlyn... She never had to worry about money a day in her life, and never would.

But it only ever took a smile, those warm, soft lips pursed in just such a way, and the paladin could never remember exactly what it was that upset him in the first place. She had long blonde hair that fell off her delicate shoulders. Her eyes were not bright blue like his own, but deep brown pools that he drowned in every time the two spoke.

"Gold..." Helm muttered, transfixed by the girl temporarily. He may as well have been drooling.

"Sorry?" she replied, which caused the paladin to turn a deeper shade of rose.

Her eyelids sparkled if the lighting was right, with just the perfect ammount of golden eye-shadow - not layered and caked in the stuff like Nan-Nan. She wore bracelets and bangles and anklets, neclaces, rings, and extravegant earrings. Every single piece was gold, the same shade as her hair. Dresses of silk and lace, never low-cut enough to raise a scandal, but with fabric that clutched her feminine form enough to raise more than a few eyebrows. She was fey in tone; delicate and graceful.

Minutes passed as the two walked side by side in silence. Not an uncomfortable silence, but a peaceful one. Never really a poetic soul, Helm still appretiated the sound of the birds and squirrels. They wrote songs and sung ballads of spring and flowers that he wished he could express in words. He lacked the verbal palette to describe the smell of fresh lavender or the crispness in the wind left over from the winter chill.

So instead the two walked in silence and Helm let nature say all those things he wanted to. All the things Kaitlyn wanted him to say, knowing full well he never would.

"Charming, funny, but... not nearly as bright as his armor," Kaitlyn thought to herself, biting her lower lip, listening to a trio of finches on a nearby treebough.

The two turned to eachother and shared a laugh that neither felt the need to explain, and Kaitlyn ran ahead down the red cobblestone roading, bidding Helm to catch her.

[Helm_Ortega]

"So Sir Ortega," Kaitlyn asked as the pair mosied down the dirt side road from the cathedral.

"Yes, M'Lady?" the charming young man replied with an honorific the paladin knew would make his lady-friend blush.

"Ahem, I have always been curious. Why is it that when all the other knights weild blade and shield, you use that rusty old hammer?" Kaitlyn asked, her motives unclear.

"Its not rust. That's demons blood. From splunking in the nine hells and such." the paladin responded cooly, patting his trusty mallet.

Kaitlyn giggled.

"That's SPE-lunking, and if you used your brain as much as you used your hammer, just think about what you could accomplish!" she quipped with a cocked eyebrow.

"My brain can't negotiate a stuck pickle-jar, M'Lady," Helm replied with an air of accomplishment.

"Why am I not suprised," she was quick to retort, with a definitive thump on his plate.

The dirt road went on for a quarter mile, skirting the cathedral grounds, and passing Lake Balamnir. An almost perfectly circular body of water, Lake Balamnir was the site of annointment for every king who oversaw the land of Day Haven, and every day, as the sun waned, the castle's spires stretched across the beryl countryside. The tallest spire - the Cloister of the Sun - was the imperial throne room, topped with a great disk of brass with naught in the middle. The disk was large enough that every evening, it reached its way across the land to Lake Balamnir, outlining a small area, considered holy. This spot is where a new king would wear his crown for the very first time.

More recently, Lake Balamnir was sought out by youths in the midst of courting. Rich with symbolism, the area was considered romantic by young knights, and Helm was not immune to its charm.

"Kaitlyn," Helm broke the relative silence of the past moments.

"Yes?" she responded, embarassed by her enthusiasm.

"Well, I shall be annointed soon, which means I may need to go inland on official paladin business." the young man said, with a tinge of sadness. "Before I left, I wanted to know if..." he began to trail off.

"Ye-es." she tried, beginning even but her voice breaking in mid sentance. She knew not why she was growing nervous, but the feeling began to onset despite resistance.

"Will you..." he began, stopping to look into her dark brown eyes, crowned in gold. She seemed to look at him with meaning. Expectantly almost. As if she were about to agree to almost anything the sweeping-blonde-haired man was about to request.

"Will you come watch me at the grand-melee before I leave? I want you to be there when I win the Warrior's Cup!" he asked, unable to contain himself.

Through force of will, she maintained her composure and stuffed all thoughts of extravegant dresses and possibly tiaras into a box in her mind.

"Yes Helm. I will come and watch you fight in the grand melee."

[Helm_Ortega]

Kaitlyn had seemed somewhat dampered on the returning curve of the road. After passing the southern point of Lake Balamnir, the old road finished the circle arriving back at the cathedral. The beautiful young noblewoman seemed to regain a measure of her cheerfulness as the two once again stood at the bottom of the stone steps leading up the hill to the holy place.

He didn't quite know why she felt so scorned, but to Helm's releif, she started to speak after almost half an hour of awkward silence.

"So, Sir Ortega, my mother is hosting a party tomorrow night. I trust your family will be in attendance?" she asked.

"Of course. You know my father and your father are good friends. And how could I turn down the offer to see M'Lady two days in a row." Helm answered, his jesting nature betraying a hint of truthfulness. She seemed rejuvanated almost instantly.

"It's true, we do not see eachother as much as when we were younger," she lamented. "But we've each been so busy. "You with your attoning for skipping out on going training. Me, in my tenth year at-"

"Five times!" Helm interjected, confusing his companion.

"I'm quite sure it's been more than that Helm. Just last week alone you-" she started before being interrupted again.

"No, you dont understand!" Helm opened his gauntleted hands, gesturing semantically in his fluster. "Five times and its guard detail!"

"But like i said, you've been absent more than five times," she said, trying unsuccessfully to calm the paladin who was taking inventory of his armor and searching wildly for the warhammer strapped to his waist.

"This isn't going to be my first time on guard detail!" Helm shouted over his shoulder, running off down the main road infront of the chuch. "Good-bye! Thanks for the walk!"

Kaitlyn sighed at her most hopeful suitor, as he kicked up dust running for the military training grounds several miles away.

"Well, stop by my estate on the way and grab a horse at least!" she called. She skipped a few short paces after the man but gave up, shaking her head.

"Thank you!" Helm yelled back, his hair bouncing off his pauldrons as he ran. He charged off down the main street that wrapped around the inner wheel of Day Haven, leading east, then slowly north. Making the stop to borrow a mount would have saved the paladin a good deal of time, but stubborn and fearful of spending a long boring day on guard detail drove the young knight forward in the most obvious direct path.

It wasn't that Helm was disrespectful. He didn't pick fights with nuns and the elderly, or abandon his girlfriends diliberately. His father had always lovingly said that Helm was slow to think, quick to action. Those were the kind of traits that the battlefield needed from a man. When it came to dealing with strict taskmasters or emotional lady-friends, those same traits were less of a boon.