#gloriouspomelo
For@gloriouspomelo<3
*****
A Reaching Hand
The knights were always so stoic. Alec would watch them walking with their weapons — their backs straight, their faces grim, and their eyes cast forward for whatever danger they would take on. They never spoke on duty unless spoken to in regards to official business. They never stopped for a moment nor sat on the guard wall to rest. They never looked tired, even though Alec was sure they were.
Truthfully, when Alec had been little, he’d been in love with the idea of being a knight. He’d trained in the yard with his stick sword and dreamed of protecting their city from whatever foe would dare challenge him. It had been an empty dream, as Alec had been born with the powers of a mage — and a mage could not be a knight.
Alec thought it was a rather stupid rule. He could guard the city with magic just as well as he could with a weapon, but rules were rules. Besides, Alec had grown a little disenchanted with the idea of being a knight anyway. He’d sit on the roof of his apothecary and watch them when he had nothing better to do or when he was waiting for one of his dreaded potions to finish brewing.
Alec hated when he was asked to brew potions, but that was beside the point.
