Steel and Mana

Chapter 375 – Frightened

The Knight's Errant easily cut through the dark, high clouds, riding above the lightning and rain raging below them. By their navigation officer, they were already out of Atuvia's territory, their small villages that dotted the countryside like scattered pebbles hidden below the rainstorm.

In the past decade, after the Goldlight and Quickfeet guilds joined Avalon in their alliance, Atuvia changed considerably. The rest of the guilds that once made the kingdom of merchants up collapsed in their entirety while the two remained and flourished. Retaking their land was... easy––with minimal bloodshed required. It was the perfect ground to train the newest Knights, sending them into Atuvia, helping the two guilds reclaim all that was lost, and reforming the country in a new, two-party system shared between the two guilds.

By now, most of their villages were connected, tiny, little nodes for their central cities, supplying them like how an actual human body would work. And they worked perfectly. Atuvia even outshined Ishillia when it came to copying Avalon. They were the first to produce their own tractors, their own variant of the steam engine, ahead of Mirian's rebuilding Empire.

What they were looking to do next was to somehow get themselves airships and then become the de facto trading force on the continent, flying from shore to shore. But Avalon was not ready to share that technology yet. However, they were patient. They could wait.

"I never traveled farther than the middle of Atuvia," Edrin leaned closer to his viewport, his breath fogging the reinforced glass slightly as he watched the clouds flash in blue beneath them.

"The long-range training?" Corinne asked, holding a mug of tea in her hands and swirling it as the group sat in the mess hall of the ship.

"Yeah," Edrin answered, "I was made to travel to the city where Quickfeet is located and then back to home base. Without getting out of my Thunder," he added quickly.

"We all did." The rest chuckled, remembering the same task, which was part of their initiation.

"Hard to believe places this far out are dealing with attacks," Tiburon mused, rubbing at the stubble along his jaw. "I never really thought about wherever else the beasts may come through. I thought they were aiming for us because we pose a threat."

"Who knows what a creature like that thinks." Veron didn't glance away from his own mug, watching the black coffee swirl in it, releasing hot steam. "From what I know, they are not even really intelligent," he continued, his voice musing at the fact. "They are driven by some kind of primal instinct, but... I guess if a place like Markoth shows weakness, the creatures will sense it like blood in the water and pounce on it."

"A lesson we've learned more than once," Tiburon grunted. "I remember my first winter! We got ourselves an ice-breathing bastard. Killing it wasn't hard; I ripped its fucking jaws open, but the moment it died and that magical ice spilled all over its corpse––"

"We had to clean up after you all winter." Veron snorted, making the big man blush.

"I didn't know it would draw in more monsters! I heard the first sighting of a beast like that; it kept the others out all winter!"

"What we learned in training?" Veron asked, and it was Edrin who answered promptly.

"No beast is alike. Probably, this one's freezing blood had some kind of pheromone or something, attracting a horde."

"It still gave us ample resources." Corinne drummed her fingers against her armrest, her boot-tapping an impatient rhythm against the deck plating. "So what's the deal with this Markoth kingdom anyway?" she asked, her voice laced with skepticism. "I mean, if they're getting hammered this bad, why haven't they just built proper defenses?"

"With resources down and all the manpower killed off?" Veron exhaled slowly through his nose. "Markoth's people are... gone," he said carefully. "They were more focused on fighting with each other than protecting the Pass. Maybe we would also be dead if our Sovereign had never been born and would have never risen up to take over the Frontier. He recognized the danger and prepared us. He protected us. All of us." His grip tightened slightly on the mug.

"Our Sovereign saved more than us..." Edrin agreed, his voice... reverent. "He saved everyone else, too."

"And now we established a Union," Corinne muttered, closing her eyes with a smile on her face. "We can focus on the true danger... these damned beasts!"

"Indeed!" Veron agreed, his tone bright and proud, "We are Knights of Avalon, and we will help Markoth because the beasts are a danger for all."

"Damn right!" Tiburon's chuckle vibrated through the others. "And they'll be begging us to stay once they get a look at our machines!"

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After a few days, the landscape below the airship began its gradual transformation when it cleared from the rain clouds, beginning its slow descent. A thin haze of permanent dust and smoke hung over Markoth's main settlement, its ramshackle defenses standing, but from above, none of the Knights could imagine it holding back anything besides part of the winter wind.

Inside the city, the morning routine had already begun with a weary familiarity. A routine that, if it were gone, probably the survivors would simply let the elements take them for good... Farmers moved through their tiny fields around the city to try and gather whatever few crops they managed to grow. On the walls, perimeter guards paced their routes, their makeshift weapons, scavenged scythe blades or anything sharp enough lashed to poles, rusted swords reforged into axes, never really leaving their hands.

Jonas was one of these guards, surviving both winters, sometimes asking himself: Why? He never knew the answer, but he knew he was not brave enough to end it either. He was standing, tired, weak, perched in the lookout post, his gnarled hands never leaving his rusting polearm. The weapon was older than some of the surviving children, kids who he didn't know why their parents even bothered to bring into this world. What even remained here for them? His dull eyes routinely scanned the horizon, tracing the tree line for any sign of movement.

Then he saw it.

A dark shape against the brightening sky, moving faster than any bird had a right to. His breath caught in his chest as the silhouette grew larger... A flying beast?! It... it wasn't even winter yet?! But then again... it didn't have wings. Yet, no matter what, memories of the last attack flooded his mind. There he was again, surrounded by the screams, the blood, the unnatural glow of the creatures' eyes... But these things had never flown before. Had they evolved? Adapted?

"Sound the bell!" Jonas's voice tore from his throat, pushing down the memories, his voice raw with sudden panic. In his haste, he nearly tumbled down the ladder behind him. "Something's coming! Something horrible!"

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The alarm bell's harsh clang shattered the relative calmness in the morning; its urgent but ear-hurting noise sent the people within the city scrambling. A farmer dropped his hoe, the tool forgotten immediately as he sprinted for the walls, not to protect it... just try and avoid being killed by whatever was coming. Mothers yanked children indoors, their frightened cries echoing everywhere as they headed for their basements, wanting to find shelter. One of the surviving blacksmiths emerged from his forge, his massive hammer in hand, face streaked with soot and sweat, looking around, noticing the... thing in the sky. Why run...? There was no running from something like that...

King Edric burst from his chambers, his boots kicking up the parchment littering the floor as he strode toward the balcony of his castle. Looking around, he held his arms nervously onto the stone railing.

"What in the seven hells is going on?" he demanded, his voice rough, his eyes tired as he had just woke from an exhaustion-induced sleep. "It isn't snowing yet!"

"There!" Lord Cedric, startled awake from his sitting position, also followed his king while he pointed a shaking finger skyward, his other hand white-knuckled around the same stone railing. "Something big, coming in fast! It looks like metal... Metal? Maybe it is some kind of sky-beast!?"

Before more panic would start to spread, they all heard a strange click, a resonance, and then a booming voice echoed all around the city and its neighboring territory.

"PEOPLE OF THE KINGDOM OF MARKOTH. DO NOT BE ALARMED. OUR INTENTIONS ARE PEACEFUL. WE ARE THE KNIGHTS OF AVALON."

"Avalon...?" The king asked, gawking, suddenly recalling what the delegation from Ishillia had mentioned before... But? But... He couldn't speak. How? What? Nothing made sense at the moment. Looking around, he suddenly noticed the people outside of the city, the only ones who would be foolish enough not to run when the warning bell was ringing. The Ishillians. They were already there, and that massive thing was slowly descending, heading straight for them.

"Are those... metal people?" Lord Cedric muttered, watching the four mechs attached to the airship's belly.

"I don't know..." Edric answered, his brain trying to restart from its frozen state, "I don't know, but... They did say they never let a monster get through their walls, didn't they?"

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The wind blew through the streets of Avalon, rustling the yellowed leaves of the trees planted along the city's main roads. Elara, Luna's mother, adjusted her shawl as she stepped outside the small boarding house they now called their home, glancing down the street where her husband, Volkhir, was trudging back from another long day, mostly running errands for different shops. His once-proud posture, being the head butler of a Duke, advising the highest possible rank of nobility within Ishillia, was now slumped over, his shoulders weighed down by more than just the past months. It was like this since they left Ishillia and traveled... traveled far.

She waited for him at the doorstep, watching as he climbed the short set of stairs with a tired grunt before dropping the parcels on the small table behind the entryway.

"Another long day?" she asked softly.

"As always," Volkhir sighed, shaking the early chill from his coat. "Today was about delivering coal from the arriving... trains. Then I hauled grain, running messages like a common errand boy!" he snorted, refusing to acknowledge that by doing these so-called night-shift chores, the pay was almost double than he expected it to be. "It's a wonder they even trust me with that much..." he shrugged, shaking away his thoughts.

"You need not go for those types... You are not young anymore." Elara closed the door behind him and sighed, rubbing his shoulders. "At least you're bringing in coin. I spend my days serving coffee and bread to people who don’t even glance my way." There was a bitterness in her voice, one she hadn’t bothered to hide for years now. "We were raised for more than this, Volkhir. I should be serving nobles, not commoners."

"And yet, here we are," he muttered, unbuckling his boots. "This city—" he gestured vaguely toward the window, where the electric lamps still flickered in the early morning haze "—has nothing like in the rumors. Nothing like anyone thinks it is like! No nobility, no real structure... Everyone just… makes their own way. It’s unnatural. It is bizarre."

"That’s why we can’t connect with anyone," Elara agreed. "They don’t rely on hierarchy, on traditions. There are no lords, no duchesses to serve... Just merchants, craftsmen... citizens, as they call themselves. Even the Sovereign himself barely acts like royalty!"

"As expected from a barbarian playing noble," Volkhir grunted. "And Luna—"

"She hasn’t spoken to us since that day in the throne room," Elara finished bitterly. "Not that I blame her. But others noticed the boy. Our grandson... Galahad… he watches us. We could—"

"We can't," her husband cut in quickly, lowering his voice. "I don't like how he looked at us. I don't like how he is keeping an eye on us, either!"

"He is barely past ten, dear."

"That doesn't matter. We’ve played our part well enough so far. We can't sabotage ourselves, or we will be dead. No one here questions a thing; let's keep it that way." He leaned in slightly, voice barely above a whisper. "We need to keep ourselves clean if they get caught..."

"..." Elara stiffened, glancing toward the window before turning back to him. "You mean—"

"The High Cardinal will expect results," Volkhir confirmed grimly. "A man like him did not send us here to simply exist in this city for months without doing much."

For a long moment, the only sound was the faint creak of the wooden floor above them as the rest of the 'family' was moving on the second floor. Then, from the stairway, a low murmur of voices signaled the awakening of the rest of their so-called family. Some of them, indeed, were family... But not all. As for the numbers, there were twelve of them in total, all distant cousins or in-laws, or so the story went. But in truth, four among them were not family at all.

They were Tentian agents. Spies were placed among them before they had even left the Theocracy, the country where they ended up after escaping Ishillia. They were constantly watching, listening, waiting.

"They’ll start pressuring us soon," Volkhir whispered, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "They’ll want openings, ways to slip more of their people in. Avalon’s too closed off for them to move freely or get a place to stay. We are the perfect pawns for that."

"I know..." Elara ran a hand through her somewhat graying hair behind her ears, her expression worried. "The longer we go without progress, the less use we are to them. And we know what happens when we stop being useful..."

Just by speaking, Elara swallowed hard, the thought sending a shiver down her spine. They had seen it before—those who outlived their purpose in the Theocracy did not get to leave it freely. They either did the Gods' work or met them.

"We need another way in besides Luna," Volkhir muttered, his mind already working. "If she doesn’t acknowledge us, we have to find someone else. Someone with access. Someone like one of those ministers..."