The city of Amande shimmered in the light of a thousand lanterns. Petals from sky-blossoms drifted through the air as laughter echoed down stone-paved streets. It was the Festival of Renewal—a tradition honoring new beginnings and the forging of unbreakable bonds.
For the people, it was a celebration of hope.
For Jon, Sam, and Liselotte, it was the moment to declare a united front against a corrupted system.
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Banners of white and silver adorned the city square. Musicians played soft, harmonic melodies. At the heart of the plaza, a raised dais stood beside a sacred cherry blossom tree—blooming despite the season. This was the Tree of Oaths, blessed by the spirits of the land.
The crowd gathered as Lady Liselotte, radiant in a white gown laced with soft blue and silver, stepped onto the platform. Her calm smile carried strength and grace.
At her signal, Jon stepped forward. Clad in a deep black and crimson robe with a single bandage over his right eye, he looked like a warrior tempered by trials. The silence thickened as he knelt before her, drawing his sword and placing it across his palms.
Jon (solemnly):
"I, Jon Caesar, son of two worlds, bearer of flame and spirit, vow this day to be your sword, Liselotte Cretia. I shall protect your life, your cause, and your people. From the shadows and the storms, I shall cut down those who dare threaten your peace."
Gasps echoed through the crowd. Liselotte's eyes shimmered, but she nodded with royal dignity.
Liselotte (softly):
"Then rise, my Sword. I accept your vow."
Jon rose and she touched his shoulder with a small ceremonial blade—a symbolic knighting.
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Then Sam stepped forward. He wore formal robes of deep forest green and bronze, the color of his spirit arts, his face calm but proud. In his hands, he held an ancient scroll—a mark of the Scholar's Oath.
Sam (clearly):
"I, Samwell of the Spiritfolk, born of old blood and new fate, pledge myself to be your mind, Liselotte Cretia. I shall guide your decisions with wisdom, serve your will with knowledge, and guard your realm with strategy and insight."
The wind picked up, swirling cherry blossoms around the three of them as the ancient tree pulsed faintly with light.
Liselotte (smiling warmly):
"Then rise, my Mind. I accept your vow."
She touched his brow with the scroll. The people erupted into applause, cheers, and chants of her name.
"Liselotte-sama! Long live the Lady of Amande!"