Alaina strode, no, marched through the hallway. Today was to be an important day and she was not going to let herself be late. A Hero, after all, is never late.
Ceremonial armour, shields and blades adorned one section of the hallway. Her Fathers’. But not his own. They were from his time in the Eastern Kingdoms, those mysterious far-off lands that surely must go on forever. The helmets of knights of Stormwind, the crest of Lordaeron, those heroes who had in turn inspired him and brought his craft back to the Isles and Corlain. And with them their techniques, their ideals, their virtues. Ah, virtues! She was to be late to set her own, if she did not hurry.
Alaina marched faster down the hallway but in the spur of the moment found herself gazing at a portrait that always caught her eye whenever she walked past. Her Auntie, she lovingly called her, but in this sense she was not an Auntie but barely even mortal, for in the painting was captured a moment of true glorious heroism. With a billowing cape and a shining spear on canvas depicted a scene of a heroine throwing herself against a terrifying black dragon, billowing ash and embers. And in the next beside it, her standing triumphant, the beast’s eyes and tongue rolling limp from its jaw and the spear lodged deep in its skull. Alaina wondered if she could ever reach those heights, if she could live up to her name even when people uttered it, it was to speak Auntie’s name. “Caitlyn Wyrther, Dragonslayer.” She’d read Auntie’s book many times, but felt no closer to achieving that lofty height.
No! She was doing it again! She’d never reach those heights if she were late.
Reaching the end of the hallway now and outside their manor, Alaina found her father dressed in full knightly dress, as she was in hers.
“Alaina, step forth, and recite to me your virtues.”
Alaina did so, knelt in the ground, and with the blade she had been given thrust it into the dirt.
“My virtues shall be as such. Fearlessness, as a hero must be able to stare true evil down and never flinch. Self-Sacrifice, for what is a hero if they do not lay themselves on the line for their cause? Love, as I could never hope to truly sacrifice myself for someone I do not care for. Wisdom, so my path may remain true even in the darkest of hours. Finally, Determination, that I may follow my path to the end of my days.”
Father stood over her, and challenged her vows.
“How can you seek to be fearless when you have never felt fear?”
“How can you truly know what self-sacrifice means, if you have never sacrificed anything?”
“How can you seek to love, when there are others who would hate you regardless?”
“How can you be wise, when wisdom escapes even the greatest of scholars?”
“And how can you stay determined even when your own path may not be true?”
Alaina gritted her teeth. “Because they are what a Hero must be.”
“And what is a Hero to you?”
Alaina looked upwards. “You, and Auntie, and…”
Her father’s moustache furrowed as his lip turned taut.
“No. That will not do. These virtues are to be your own, not because you seek to follow in our footsteps.”
Alaina now struggled to lift her head, why of all these times would he seek to turn her from the path she’d sought to follow for so long?
Father spoke again. “For you, my daughter, I will make an exception. Fearlessness, Self-Sacrifice, Love, Wisdom, and Determination. These will be your virtues. They are good and true, but untested. Hold them close to you, and if you still hold to them once you have become that Hero, we will know they are your own. I name you now a Knight. And may it be so.”
Alaina nodded, her heart, her mind still lingering on that final question. “And may it be so.”