Knights Apocalyptica

“Tut, tut, child!” said the Duchess. “Everything’s got a moral, if only you can find it.” And she squeezed herself up closer to Alice’s side as she spoke.

Alice did not much like keeping so close to her: first, because the Duchess was very ugly; and secondly, because she was exactly the right height to rest her chin upon Alice’s shoulder, and it was an uncomfortably sharp chin. However, she did not like to be rude, so she bore it as well as she could.

“The game’s going on rather better now,” she said, by way of keeping up the conversation a little.

“’Tis so,” said the Duchess: “and the moral of that is—‘Oh, ’tis love, ’tis love, that makes the world go round!’”

“Somebody said,” Alice whispered, “that it’s done by everybody minding their own business!”

-Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1865, 2nd Era)

There were seven survivors from the massacre. With the sudden firing line, and the enthusiasm of the Pendragons to ensure they had no losses, they didn’t hold back at all. Erec stared at the bloodied thugs, some of them still sporting bullet holes the Pendragons were plugging.

He’d killed plenty of monsters. And, though he couldn’t recall, it was plausible he’d killed another human while in the throes of Fury and fighting the Stag.

But the brutal and effective fighting of these people was a unique thing entirely. That, and how afterward, the Pendragons were in a bright and cheerful mood, celebrating their victory. This was reality outside of the walls, and the freedom that these people lived for wasn’t a thing that was free. It had a price. A cost paid in blood.

Enide had tied her hair back and was currently looking over Seven-Snakes. She tilted his head back and forth, making sure she didn’t break his neck.

“What’d you think? See you staring over there, slinger.” Enide asked.

“You just killed several people in fifteen seconds,” Erec said, his voice stained with an equal measure of awe and horror.

Enide paused, dropping Seven-Snakes head. With a slow turn, she met his eyes. There was hurt there, for the barest second, then it steeled over, filling with something else. “Whoa, several in less than a minute? Really? New record.”

Erec worked his jaw at that. How many people had she killed? He’d never thought it over before, but of course, someone like her would have, living in the wasteland for so long.

“How the hell did you think this would go down, slick? We were tracking down a group of armed men in a foreign world with arms full of guns and swords.”

“I—“ Erec started, then stopped. Her fighting impressed him, but it scared him how easy it was for her to brush aside their deaths. Maybe it was naïve, but he couldn’t help himself from feeling that way.

“Stunned? I saw you wreck those bots, and do you wanna know what went through my head? This guy, he’s so in love with battle that he doesn’t care if he’ll die. You’re meant to ride the edge of life, and that’s freedom. Listen, there’s not a wall to fall behind out here, and without my family, I’d be lucky not to get killed or robbed by half of the scumbags out here,” Enide frowned. “Maybe you can’t understand that unless you’ve lived it but think before you judge us. Judge me.”

With that, Enide went back to looking over Seven-Snakes. Done with him.

She’d done the same as him, rode that edge of life and death, and took glee. Only, it wasn’t with monsters and robots, but with the lives of other humans. In another life, he’d be the same. As terrifying, a vision of death in the eyes of his enemies, a reaper, like her.

Erec got up, giving her space. He was the problem, and later he’d bridge the awkward rift between them, with a proper apology. War didn’t change, regardless of if it was against monsters or humans. As a creature of war, this should be natural. Death was a constant in the broken world, and a victory was a victory. With the rest of the prisoners being treated, Erec drifted by, not sure what to do with himself.

Then he saw her.

The woman Seven-Snakes captured, huddled next to the bookcase, unharmed physically since she’d been the first one to throw herself to the ground. Red rimmed her eyes as she wept, head hung low with a veil of black hair. Aside from tying her hands, the Pendragons all but avoided her. She wasn’t a threat, but since she came with Seven-Snakes, they couldn’t trust her.

Erec walked over and crouched near her, tapping the side of his visor so she could see his face.

“Do you remember me?”

She shook her head, then twitched. Erec frowned, not at her, but at the man who’d brought her through all this. Why did Seven-Snakes hang onto her?

“When I first saw you, it was in the sewer below Worth. When the monsters roamed above and rampaged against me and the other Knights. I remember how you were when you came out of the shadows…” He trailed off. She was certainly worse for wear than back then.

Now, she sported an old bruise on her cheek; her fingers were scratched and her hands torn. Whatever work they’d put her up to, it hadn’t been pleasant. But that was going to end here.

“Your life has changed now. I know you’re not with Seven-Snakes, I don’t know what it has been like for you, or how long that was. But I’ll see that you’re no longer beholden to any of this. Do you know Vega?”

She nodded her head slowly, but there was doubt in her eyes. A deep distrust that Erec wasn’t sure she’d ever get over.

“We’ll be headed there, taking Seven-Snakes and the rest of his thugs. When we get there, you’ll be free again, alright?” Erec stood up, intending to go talk to Boldwick to make sure that happened, when the girl caught him by the wrist.

Her narrow hand tightened against him; nails were ineffectual against his steel gauntlet. Her eyes bored into his. The faint glow of the candles above dimmed into darkness; slowly he was drawn into those haunted eyes. Deeper and deeper, like drowning in an ocean, not unlike the sensation of the Stag. Erec fought back instinctively; silver fire burning forth and coating his steel.

She let out a cry of alarm, and let him free.

Erec rubbed his temple as his focus returned. Inside, Fury was burning bright. But looking at the girl, there was only more confusion and fear. She hadn’t meant to hurt him with whatever that was, he could tell now. The cowl of silver fire coating his Armor sputtered. This time, though, with such a small draw, there was no nausea.

“Sorry, don’t—don’t do that to me. Unpleasant experience, whatever that was. I wouldn’t recommend trying it on anyone else either. I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I don’t think it’s best if I stay near right now,” Erec said, trying to work himself back down.

It was as if the Stag were here again, rearing for another fight. His instincts screamed at him, but he knew they were wrong.

“I’ll get you help, I promise.”

Her lips parted for a moment, and a single word slipped out, “…Booze?” her head hung, and she once fell back into the defeated state he’d come to her in. Erec pulled himself away, still feeling his heart hammering. Out of all the things he’d faced, that damn Stag had still left its mark on him. As if part of him still lived in that moment; in all of those countless moments, it’d dragged him to its realm.

Its hatred burned in him for eternity.

— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —

“I highly doubt you can imagine the incredible ways that magic is working around us,” Colin said as they progressed through the endless library. Every mile brought them closer to where their Rift would be, all they had to do was follow the marks. But the mysterious entity wasn’t lending any more aid. Despite wanting them all gone, the help stopped the moment they’d gotten Seven-Snakes in custody. “With this new Talent, I’m willing to bet I can easily become one of our resident experts on Mysticism.”

“Wow, your new eyes have made you about ten times as insufferable.” Garin shook his head. Munchy was on his shoulder. The fat squirrel’s whiskers twitched as Garin slid him another bit of dried meat.

They had a few hours before the Rift reopened. Enough time to make it comfortable. Despite that, it was a walk-and-eat sort of mission. There was no such thing as taking it easy while in another world.

Once they got back to their world, it should be a straightforward ride to Vega.

What came once they left Vega, Erec didn’t want to think about.

“It’s just that you two can’t possibly understand. When forming a glyph—“ Colin held a hand out, a light blue series of lines and geometric shapes formed, “We pull our mana out, and force it into function… But natural magic? It does that, on a much larger scale, with much more—take that—“ Colin pointed to a floating candle. “How do you think it fuels its light? You might say that ‘it uses mana from within,’ but that’s not completely true. It’s pulling mana from the air, using its own mana to convert it to fire, and using the mana in the air to generate lift… Remarkable.”

“…How’s that practical for you?” Erec asked. It was hard to track what he was even saying. Some monsters used mana in different ways, and now Colin was sounding an awful lot like Dame Morgana.

[Hear him out.]

Great, VAL was getting involved with it as well. Worse, he didn’t want to think about Mysticism at all. The only thing that kept going through his head was Enide, and what he wanted to say, to explain himself. Their double date in Vega…

“I’m losing my mind,” Erec said.

“—Efficiency. Seeing the natural flow of magic has inspired me in ways I cannot describe. To think even simple glyphs have inherent waste when compared to natural evolution.” Colin continued. Erec didn’t know how much of that he’d missed and found he didn’t care. VAL probably was losing it, and making its own notes, but… It was so dull.

“Yikes,” Garin said. “You made Erec’s head bust.”

“I’m not opposed to Mysticism. But this talk is boring,” Erec contested.

“Bullshit,” Garin said

“Liar.” Colin agreed.

“It’s not practical for me, aside from a few simple glyphs.”

“If you wished to, you’d discover a way to use it,” Colin pressed in. “Let me teach you.”

“Oh dear Goddess,” Erec shook his head at that suggestion, feeling a shudder run through him. Colin, as a teacher? Especially now after his head swelling and thinking he was now destined to be a grandmaster of Mysticism?

“Wait, hold up,” Garin stopped him, holding up a finger. “I actually like this idea.”

“Of course you do, it’s my idea, therefore it is excellent,” Colin nodded.

“Teaching and the responsibility that comes with that? It’s the sort of thing that might make his father turn around and might help them finally make up and become a functional family. Imagine your Son teaching a hero, the only other in the Kingdom to slay a Cataclysm-level threat in recent memory?”

“I am a future Duke,” Colin pointed out.

“Not after the peyote trip,” Erec shrugged, “Church will have your head after that. But, whatever, if we find the time, I’ll brush up on my Mysticism.” Not that he wanted to. It sounded like torture. But with how Colin had been lately, and this whole new Talent… Maybe it was a chance to course-correct him for good and set him on another path. Especially since he planned on defying the Kingdom. If nothing else, maybe it would make Colin shut up about the fancy lights he saw. Erec was getting a headache.

“Wonderful!” Garin clapped his hands.

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