by J. A. Comley
All the other Makhi echoed his words and laid their staves upon their hearts, a salute of mourning and farewell. Larkel returned their salute, shutting the door on that chapter and looking forward to the next.
Then, as a single entity, they turned their gaze to Naleiya and lifted their staves high.
“High Lady Naleiya, to you we swear our fealty and give our oath always to use our magic in accordance with the laws of the Makhi Order of Trianon, as bound by the Silver Alliance.”
Naleiya accepted their oath and carefully took over the mental bond Larkel held.
Raising her own staff aloft, she created the Blue Star. It soared above the Light Meadows before erupting into a shower of sparks, a tradition to mark a new High Lord or Lady taking power.
As the crowd slowly calmed down and the Makhi returned to their seats, Starla rose awkwardly from her seat and walked over to her husband. It was time.
Her grandfather gave her his special smile before addressing the crowds one final time.
“I have had a long, and sometimes especially trying, reign, and I wish my successors a far less turbulent time in power.” The King stood a little to the side as he was joined by Larkel and Starla. “My place shall be taken by the two people without whom none of us would be here today. The Princess and Prince Dios have served us well these past hundred years and it is much to their account that we all have our homes restored to us.”
The crowd nodded and murmured their agreement, clearly struggling to maintain the quiet calm the ceremony demanded.
“Please, step forward Princess Starla of Galatia.” As she did, he removed one of the two crowns High Commander Medara was holding out on a cushion of golden velvet. “From this day forth, it will be your duty to govern Galatia and all her people. It will be your honour to work with our allies and maintain peace in our galaxy.”
“I give my solemn oath to all people here today to rule Galatia and her people justly, to always steer us towards more prosperity. I swear to maintain the peace between our realms.”
“Kneel,” King Eldos ordered, tears of pride sparkling in his eyes.
Starla kneeled, using her staff for support, and waited as the King removed her princess's crown and replaced it with the ornate golden crown that had once been her grandmother's.
“Once, Princess of Galatia,” the King said, placing the crown carefully on her golden curls, “now rise, Queen Starla of Galatia,” he said, smiling broadly as she got to her feet.
Turning to Larkel, the old King repeated the ceremony, placing the true crown of the King of Galatia on Larkel's raven head. As he did, the magic around his own crown shimmered and faded, revealing the ceremonial crown worn by a retired King.
“Now rise, King Larkel of Galatia,” the old King concluded, stepping back. “May you both live long and rule Galatia well.”
“All rise as King Eldos Hypaeon steps down as King of Galatia,” Commander Medara said, her voice booming around the meadows.
The crowd obeyed instantly, all bowing at the waist as the former King placed his hand over his heart, saluting his people. As they rose, all eyes fell on the powerful couple as they took centre stage.
“To the new King and Queen of Galatia!” Medara said, dropping down on one knee, right hand pressed over her heart, her left upon the hilt of her sword.
As one, the crowd dropped to one knee, each race saluting in their own manner, Galatians with hands to hearts, Cosmaltians with their hands crossed, palms towards themselves, a little away from their chests, and Aurelians with their right fist held high.
As the crowd rose, Larkel and Starla raised their staves high, crossing them at the top.
“To the peace and prosperity of all Trianon!” they chorused together.
A shower of glittering silver and gold stars rained down over the exulting crowd.
THE END
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