Recognition

Arthur carefully folded the cape, the weight of its intricate design pressing against his palms. His fingers lingered over the fabric, tracing the fine gold threads woven into the rich, dark cloth.

The shimmer of the gold caught the dim light of the sanctuary, making the cape appear almost alive, alive in a way that seemed to call attention to its beauty, its purpose, and what it might demand from him.

This was no ordinary gift.

It was a reflection of the path he had walked, a path he had never chosen but had become inevitable.

It spoke of his power now, the authority he had inherited, and the expectations that clung to him as a shadow. It was not just a token of admiration or respect, it was a weight, a mantle he hadn't asked for but was thrust upon him all the same.

As he held the cape, his mind wandered to the echoes of his past.