Camelot caught sight of himself in a darkened glass window and stopped his patrol, glancing at the reflection in wonder. He wasn't being vain, though he certainly felt like he was as he stared at himself in the old, broken down window of an old, broken down shop. It must have closed some time ago, as there was nothing inside save some garbage and a drooping ceiling.

But he wasn't really looking at that, it just happened to be in his view.

He was looking at himself. He looked like something of a proper knight now, and of course that made sense because he was one. In title, in rank. He was, he imagined, full fledged at last. That term came into his head a lot these days, and it bore with it a heavy feeling of obligation, of duty, of honor. He knew he could never fully live up to what was expected of him, what he expected of himself, but he would strive every day to do it.

It was invigorating, and he felt like, despite all the long months behind him, he had a new view of the same old thing. He wasn't tired of helping people that needed him. He wasn't tired of serving those that wanted him. This was his destiny, if there was such a thing, and he understood that.

He pledged himself to it.

He looked at the shield, the dragon emblem and its glowing green eyes. The crystal, the Terra Viridis crystal, was inside that emblem, a part of his shield and thus a part of him. He had a cape now, and belts, and the emblem of Earth standing boldly in red across his armored chest. He took a breath, another wave of feeling honored and undeserving at once rushing over him.

There was a lot for him to do, to even begin to deserve where he was, what some fate had deigned him ready for.