The Elfender name carried weight.
Not the kind earned through recent wars or convenient alliances,the real kind. The kind that stretched back before kingdoms existed, before summoners had learned to unite under banners. Back to the First War, when families fought alone.
And the Elfenders had never truly fought alone.
For every generation followed the pattern. When an Elfender child came of age and called forth their first summon, golden light would burst from their seal. A Unique Godkin sentinel would manifest, seven to ten feet of golden armor and a white cape,powerful, loyal, and yet silent. They always carried a sigil from the same order. Always.
Lord Edwin Elfender had made certain of that.
The first Elfender lord had summoned the Sentinel Commander himself 'Gods Chief'. What bargain he'd struck, what price he paid to achieve such, those details died with him. But the contract remained. Binding and Absolute. His bloodline would forever call upon the Godkin knights.
The family guarded that legacy zealously and the legacy guarded the family for generations. For this, Elfenders married Elfenders. Keeping the blood pure, for since the sentinels were answered to blood, pure blood meant pure summons.
It gave them an edge other houses envied. While rival families scrambled to coordinate mismatched summons, dragons that fought alongside phoenixes, elementals that clashed with inconvenient beasts, the Elfenders moved as one unit. Their seals looked identical. Their sentinels fought in perfect formation and strategy. An army built across generations.
The greatest convenience being that the sentinels required almost nothing in return.
Unlike other summons that drained their masters dry, the Godkin knights fed on ambient mana. They could remain manifested for days, even when their summoner's reserves ran low. Self-sufficient. Tireless, the perfect summon.
The Sentinel Commander was proof of that.
Twelve feet of gold-clad authority. He'd outlived his original summoner by centuries, passing from lord to lord like a crown. Every Elfender patriarch commanded at least two summons because of this, their personal sentinel, and the Commander himself.
Generations passed. The world changed.
Kingdoms formed. Families forged alliances. And the Summoner's War evolved from scattered skirmishes into coordinated campaigns. Still, through it all, the Elfenders stood tall, but in more recent years, their population waned, for reasons rumored to be the interbreeding, children died young, some even at birth.
In the Present.
Lord Godric Elfender ruled the house now, carried the cross. His wife, Lady Helena, had given him three children. Fortunately, they were all healthy.
Altair. The eldest. Born first.
Michael. The second son. His seal manifested at ten. Six years later, at sixteen, he already graduated the summoner's academy, commanding his sentinel with the confidence and skill of a veteran.
Zara. The youngest. Her seal came at eight. At fourteen, she was everything a daughter of the Elfender line should be.
Then there was Altair.
Eighteen years old.
Still waiting for his seal to appear.