Knights Apocalyptica

Boldwick pulled Dame Robin outside the palace and into one of the nearby gardens. It was always astounding the care the Royal family put into their estate; from the regal touches within, to even the natural beauty on the outside, they made sure to nurture all within their grounds. Still, he’d been looking to check this conversation off his list for the last few hours.

With a tired voice, he spoke to his trusted Lieutenant Knight. "Do you think they're doing all right?" he asked and stared in the distance, towards the festival.

A part of him wished he could be there to monitor the situation with all of their guests and audit the performance of his Initiates. Alas, given his own load of work and other commitments, sitting there watching them and making sure they performed well was out of the question.

Dame Robin shrugged. "Likely better than most will," she answered. "They're still young, so it won’t surprise me if they’ve found some trouble. But they've been through worse. We must remember that out of all the Knights we have at our disposal, these are amongst the more proficient in dealing with outsiders."

Boldwick grumbled in agreement. That much was also true, considering these three Initiates had experience with Vega. Being part of the first-ever diplomatic mission on behalf of the Order of the Verdant wasn't a small thing. They had more of a head start on dealing with outsiders than the rest of their Order had had a chance to.

"That will change soon," Boldwick said. It was mission-critical for the Order to have exposure to outsiders. Nearly every Verdant Oak Knight who wasn't sorely needed to be outside the wall on vital missions was back here. They were all in some way or capacity, engaging with these outsiders. After this month-long training, they would be in a prime position to fulfill their new obligations under the crown. That much, at least, Boldwick felt confident in.

"But there's gonna be trouble," he muttered, shaking his head. "Especially considering we’ve sent all of them in a direction likely to throw them into some sort of confrontation."

Dame Robin shook her head. "I don't think Garin will find himself in trouble, which was the point. By having his eyes and ears out everywhere, he was supposed to mitigate anything going wrong and utilize his talents in a way that we would like to see him develop further. Though Gwen didn't answer my riddle correctly… She’s the least I’m concerned about.

“I wouldn’t say the same about her,” Boldwick said. He felt bad, truthfully. With the way these three new ones he’d taken under his wings were soaking up attention and effort, he felt like he’d dedicated less time to Gwen. She’d been there before Erec and the rest… But she wasn’t as inclined to push herself to the point of danger.

"We have to make more time for training her," Boldwick asserted, rubbing at his eyes. More time, more time—that was the problem. Although they had months to prepare, it seemed that time was running short indeed on all fronts.

Dame Robin didn’t offer critique; only accepted it with a stern expression.

"And the red priests?" Boldwick asked Robin.

"Keeping their distance for now," she answered. "They were still stirring up trouble with the nobility and using this event as even more of a reason for people to get involved. But they aren’t very effective at causing us headaches just yet."

"It's only a matter of time," Boldwick answered.

The trouble they had been building in the caverns had grown. Popular sentiment was torn in two directions now. There were those who supported the inclusion of outsiders within their walls—the more forward-thinking individuals of the cavern. They saw that the humanity existing outside their great steel curtain was an opportunity for a pleasant future.

Then there were those, with whispers of the priests and a conservative mindset geared towards how things were, who were reluctant and unhappy with the changes they saw rapidly approaching. They saw this as a threat to their very way of life… Which had a grain of truth to it. Life was changing, as it always did. Better to go with the change than sit and wallow in the past.

Two factions—neither side gaining leverage or power over the other, yet one being sponsored by the King, and the other being sponsored by the Church. It was inevitable that they would come to a confrontation in the future. In fact, Boldwick thought, that was the point.

"Has the Crown said anything?" Dame Robin asked. She was intimately tied to the rising tensions as she conducted counterespionage on the Church.

"Not as far as we're aware, although if the Grandmaster has heard orders we don't know of, he's being tight-lipped about it." It was much the same as before, and he hated telling her the same when she hoped for something more concrete, but it was what it was.

“Shame,” Robin whispered. "Leave it to the Grandmaster to keep his cards close to his chest in a situation like this. I just want to know what our plan is.”

“Same as it ever was. We do our best with the information we have for the Kingdom, and continue guiding our young ones along the paths they’re headed.” Boldwick asserted and swirled the glass of wine in his hand; it smelled faintly like blueberries. He’d actually taken two cups, grabbed from one of the many servants attending tonight from a silver serving platter.“Will you share a drink with me before I head down to the caverns?"

"I would be honored, sir," Dame Robin answered, grinning as she leaned in closer and accepted the cup, swirling her deep glass of red.

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He felt at once a wash of relief and happiness. The loss of one of his most trusted soldiers last year had been traumatic and a reminder of the importance of personal strength and growth in the people he cared about. To see these new Initiates come so far, so quickly, was both exhilarating and terrifying. Still, at the end of the day, he felt tension. Every second that they gained more strength and conviction put them in a better place to face the dangers that would inevitably come. But would it be fast enough with all of the dangers now manifesting?

With wine in hand and Dame Robin in front of him, he set aside his worries and raised his glass. "To a drink, to you and your teaching, and the promotion I’ve recommended for you, soon to be Commander Knight Robin,” He let his voice bellow, delighting in the look of shock on her face at the announcement of her promotion.

Her eyes went wide, and she gasped for a minute. It was quite a sight to see her, for once, caught by surprise.

“C-commander Knight?”

“A well-earned position. I don’t think you would disagree, with all the work you’ve done.”

Dame Robin raised her glass higher, tears forming on the edge of her eyes, “To you, and your teaching. Without you, Sir Boldwick, I don't know where any of us would be right now. It is surely through your guidance and your mentorship that I became the person I am, and that all the Knights under us are becoming their own forces to be reckoned with."

They drank for a while before once more splitting off. Tonight was a busy night, and many fires were burning to check on, lest one flare too brightly and threaten to enflame the Kingdom. Though Boldwick dearly wished he could spend longer with her to celebrate this milestone, things were moving too fast now.

— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —

The Cardinal leaned forward. His hand was inches from it; he felt the way the fire licked at his palm as the candle burned below. Its sweet scent of lavender was almost nauseating. He didn’t light it for the odor, but for the feeling. That warmth, that loving caress, that wonderful, rejuvenating fire. He lowered his hand closer, as close as he dared. Feeling the heat increase as it pressed itself against his skin. This was divine. This closeness to the flames was what he was meant for.

The Goddess had been silent for the last month. It was a punishment, he knew. They hadn't done enough. They hadn't worked quickly enough for her satisfaction. And so, lacking her warm embrace, he pressed his hand closer to the fire. Knowing that somewhere above, the heathens had let in outsiders today.

Despite his workings, despite searching for the silver flame that she proclaimed to be in their kingdom, he couldn't locate it. Whenever he asked, he was met with a stone-walled response from the Knights and Nobles, aside from his most loyal. The best he could determine, it was one among their number. But who, he couldn't say. Almost as if some agent in the darkness of this kingdom was working against his Goddess’ interest.

"Terrible, terrible, terrible thing," he whispered to himself. His fingers curled and came closer to the fire below. Feeling it lick at his skin, and feeling it begin to bite with a stinging pain.

Working against their Goddess and, therefore, working against him was a sin. Letting these outsiders in, knowing that the priests had resisted, was throwing away all the dignity that they had in this world.

These people had no respect. And for that, they would be punished.

"This king, he is no longer the piece we need on the board," the man muttered, firmly placing his hand over the fire. He smelled his flesh char beneath its embrace. Felt the searing pain of his palm radiate upward to his wrist, causing it to shake with pain. And he relished the feeling, knowing that it brought him closer to the inferno he would dive into when he connected with his Goddess for that last time.

His skin blackened as it cracked and popped against the flames. He let out a gasp but refused to move his hand.

"The Goddess above do hear me, for we do your bidding. Help us in this, help us locate your enemy."

He begged to no one. She wasn’t listening anymore. In her spite and rage, he had become a disappointment in her eyes, and with that, he hoped it did not translate to the demise of his Kingdom. Without her guiding grace and lacking her motherly mercy, they were doomed to downfall.

He felt something stir in his mind as something took his soul and gazed back.

"You have not found the one I was looking for."

The voice boomed in his head and through his soul. He felt in a second the fire beneath his hand vanish. And instead, the searing flames ran throughout his veins; the candle was blown out. Yet, the pain was everywhere now, scorching him from the inside out.

The Cardinal leaned forward. Struggling on the ground. In glee. As she once more spoke into his mind.

"You keep failing me."She boomed through his head.

"We're looking, I promise you we're looking," he cried. "But this tournament has started. Is this not your opportunity? Will we not find what we're looking for here?" He begged and pleaded.

"You will."

His mind seared.

"For the silver fire that is close to hers is once more—is still within your pathetic little kingdom. You have failed me; each second it burns is another that grates my skin. I will not tolerate it anymore. I've sent those whom I know can handle this. You are to assist them. You are to sway all the sheep in your flock to my cause. Find the flame. STAMP it out. CRUSH it. IT CANNOT CONTINUE. IT CANNOT CONTINUE.”

Her voice repeated as the flame seared brighter inside the Cardinal. He screamed. Fingers went to his face as he scratched at the skin there. Melting off underneath his nails as the pain stabbed throughout his entire being and soul.

The voice radiated outward along with his pain, that sweet, loving embrace of his goddess. He screeched and squirmed on the ground as it went on for what felt like an eternity. Until suddenly it subsided. Leaving him shaking. Blood running down his hands, running from his tear ducts as he shook on the ground, as he cried. Cried with sheer joy.

Sweet bliss.

She had come back. She had not forsaken them. They were hers, and she had not left them. This was all the confirmation he needed. There was salvation to be found here. And from what she said, she'd even sent help.

He took in a deep sucking breath and then rocked in his place, eyes lighting up. These forces of the kingdom counteracting his influence were to be punished. They may have thought that putting on this display would further limit them. But little did they know that they had invited demons into their midst.

He knew that whoever the goddess trusts for this job would be more than up to par to deal with whatever pathetic resistance they put up with. But he knew his task too. He was to assist. To ensure that her will was done. And that they succeeded in the mission of eliminating this stray silver fire. And to that end, the Cardinal would do whatever needed to be done.

He shook, calling for one of his bishops to come and speak. Then, in short order, they were given the vital and important command of inciting the nobility who had dedicated themselves to their cause to rally.

This tournament would not end without the Goddess getting what she desired. That much, the Cardinal promised, was a guarantee.C