The Knights found rest that night, knowing that they may march towards Ethermark, forbidden to all, giving entrance only to saints, angels, heavenly beings, and descendants of the Artashesian Lineage and its counterparts.
They gloried and spoke and were lauded, their children with sparkles in their eyes, knowing that their fathers will have eternity before them and may become immortal beings one day to guide them to holy knighthood alongside them.
Holding wooden play toys, the boys ran around imitating the great myths of King Leo, King Armen, King Tigran, and the rest, leaving their fathers to imitate Ari as is told in the Book.
They laughed and played and cried for victory was upon them, tasting it so sweetly, as the King, holy and mighty, was no friend to defeat but to victory. Having never lost a war, with neither blood flowing from an organ, he has had minor marks from fights with bears and wolves and other lowly creatures.
Tales of Aru sung from their lips as he ran to heaven chasing the saints for their intercession in times of King Armen’s weakness. He ran and pursued holiness and even the Father’s blessing roaring before his throne as an ally and intercessor.
In lights beyond brightness and shining, in fields and realms of elemental substance, he sped to the throne of the Father, as though climbing mountains, past saints and angels, past seraphim and the highest beings, he roared towards the Father for the Lord to make way.
They lifted up commanders of cavalry and leaders of the order, celebrating in the comfort of castle that has never seen war nor loss in 300 years! With walls as thick as 20 trees, just less than falcons’ reach, with stone mixed with crystals and metals from ores beneath the seas, stronger than the mightiest metals in creation, they knew they were blessed by those of old mythic tales.