Knights Apocalyptica

In front of the house there was a court, in which grew a juniper-tree. One winter’s day the wife stood under the tree to peel some apples, and as she was peeling them, she cut her finger, and the blood fell on the snow. ‘Ah,’ sighed the woman heavily, ‘if I had but a child, as red as blood and as white as snow,’ and as she spoke the words, her heart grew light within her, and it seemed to her that her wish was granted, and she returned to the house feeling glad and comforted.

A month passed, and the snow had all disappeared; then another month went by, and all the earth was green. So the months followed one another, and first the trees budded in the woods, and soon the green branches grew thickly intertwined, and then the blossoms began to fall. Once again the wife stood under the juniper-tree, and it was so full of sweet scent that her heart leaped for joy, and she was so overcome with her happiness, that she fell on her knees.

Presently the fruit became round and firm, and she was glad and at peace; but when they were fully ripe she picked the berries and ate eagerly of them, and then she grew sad and ill. A little while later she called her husband, and said to him, weeping. ‘If I die, bury me under the juniper-tree.’ Then she felt comforted and happy again, and before another month had passed she had a little child, and when she saw that it was as white as snow and as red as blood, her joy was so great that she died.

-Jacob Grimm and Wilhelm Grimm, Grimms’ Fairy Tales: The Juniper Tree (1812, 2nd Era)

Light spun in a confluence of silver and red. Erec turned in place, blinded but feeling a sense of wholeness and acceptance. His veins burned, but there was no anger, nor hate. A sense of completeness as the fire whisked him away from reality, and streaked somewhere else.

When he could see again, he found himself in hell.

At least, the closest thing he could imagine to hell. In the distance were pillars of flames, geysering out from the land. Accompanying them were rivers of magma, and the heat instantly made his head swim. Smoke was heavy in the air, and the whole place reeked of brimstone.

Where there wasn’t fire and burning things, there was ash. A whole ground of it. Compact, but yet with a soft give.

Erec looked down and realized he wasn’t in his Armor—his bare feet coated in ash.

When he looked up, there was a man covered in regal pearl armor. Not the metal and style that the Kingdom wore. There was no magic to it, no spell-work holding it together. The full plate the man wore was ripped from the fables of the old-world, a time of heroes and legends.

So brilliant white that no flames reflected on its surface, instead it gave off a soft glow.

Erec paced around the man, not sure what to think.

The stranger watched him with those silent eyes. But he never turned, his eyes followed Erec as he moved around and never left him, judging Erec in a way he couldn’t quite comprehend.

Danger flashed through Erec’s senses, like a knife jabbing into his gut. Operating off pure instinct, Erec leaped back.

A comet smashed in from above, crashing into the spot he’d been a second before. Ash and smoke plumed upward. Erec skidded backward, the ash making a poor surface to land.

His eyes left the warrior to take in what almost hit him. A massive war axe wedged into the earth, nearly the same size as himself.

It was a magnificent weapon, made of the same metal as the strange man’s Armor. An ivory shaft that ended in a massive wrapped leather handle, complete with a white-metal pike at the very end. Yet, the dangerous part was the most exciting, the massive axe head inlaid with delicate carvings, etched by an unmatched artist.

The top of the axe depicted a gathering of Knights around a round table. Trailing off that led to one of the Knights chasing a stage. From there, the image faded away. That same Knight who’d defeated a Stag was hand-in-hand with a woman… Then it faded away, given to the pure pearly white of the weapon.

“Pick it up.” The man said, “If ye be a Knight.”

Both the challenge and the beauty of the weapon made it pointless to resist the invitation. Burning his pride, Erec leaned down and grabbed the axe. Wincing as he struggled to lift it and rest it on his shoulder.

The weight was unreal; far heavier than most of the monsters he’d faced. Yet the man was wearing a full suit made of this stuff?

“Ye could grow to wield it if ye have the right disposition.” The man nodded, then held out a lazy hand. A comet streaked down from above, slamming right into where the guy reached out. Only, instead of smashing into the ground and causing another crater and plume of smoke, he caught the comet out of the air.

The fire blew out, revealing a sword whose blade flickered and waved, the same white metal as the man’s armor. But living, somehow.

“Who are you?” Erec asked, shaking his head.

Memories of the other world were like wisps in the air. Hard to grasp onto, but he knew it existed; they brushed past his consciousness every now and again. But when they did, his focus snapped back to the present. To this place. Running past him like water through a hand.

“Ye wish for answers. Yet tis, not your nature. Fight, then learn.” The man spun the sword in his hand, the white-silver fire blade trailing behind.

Those words tore Erec away from trying to figure this out. He was right.

The only solution was to divorce himself from what he couldn’t control. There was another Knight in front of him, sword in hand, asking him to fight; Chivalry demanded he answered in kind.

Chivalry?

That had nothing to do with battle. Erec stepped toward the man, his barefoot slipping on ash. His blood stirred and heated; fire bursting from his feet, rising from below.

It burned through his foot, directly into his veins. Fuel. Erec laughed, welcoming it with open arms. With this power, the weapon was a natural extension in his grasp; better than any he’d touched before, and far lighter. As if it’d been made for him.

Erec grinned ear to ear, tracking his enemy as the Knight slowly advanced.

A duel. One that would shatter this world—he knew it instinctively that combined their fight would have the power to dispel this ball of ash into complete oblivion.

What a beautiful ending that would be. All it would cost is throwing himself away.

Erec rushed with a yell. That massive axe cut through the air like butter, but it still lagged as it swung. Clanging into the strange Knight’s blade and forcing the two into a clinch. With all of his might, he pushed against the blade, trying to overpower the guard.

Despite pushing everything he could through the axe, the Knight didn’t budge an inch. His sword burned brightly and held its place.

Erec screamed; letting more fire pour into him. A pillar turned from nearby—fire splashing into his back. Burning him from the outside in and fueling his power. His muscles bulged and screamed in protest as he strained them. Knowing nothing but war, he would tear himself apart to break through and see this blow tear the man in half.

A wave of ash flew from them as he retracted his axe from the struggle. Only to crash it back down at the man at a different angle.

This was the type of hit that might tear a building in half. That endless fire burning him alive, turning him into a one-person inferno—he saw the fire burning across his skin. Felt more power than ever before.

If this was hell, it was his hell, and he was the demon made for this place.

The axe banged against the metal; once more the Knight didn’t twitch. As if he were made of something stronger than steel.

All with a single hand holding a sword. It was enough to block the entirety of Erec’s Strength.

So he burned more.

Blow after blow, swing after swing.

It was like hitting a wall. Nothing connected past the damn blade. He wasn’t enough. Yet. Erec laughed as more fire burned through him. His eyes blazed with flames, his blood boiled away, and his skin a deep red as his body screamed with pain and agony. Yet it felt sweet, felt right. This was a test.

How far could he push? If he gave more of himself away, maybe the next strike would be the one that broke through the Knight’s defense.

The burning landscape around them dimmed, all the fire vanishing into Erec in a vortex of flame. Sinking through his body, converted to raw power.

He kept going until the last flicker vanished.

Erec’s axe slammed into ash, his body twitching. His eyes stung, and blood ran from them as his own body failed. Giving everything to rage and anger could never be good for the body. Erec tried to laugh, but it was a weak thing. He let out a dying cry as he tried to lift his axe one last time from the ash.

His muscles refused to move. His arms hanging limply, with his grip locked on the handle; unable to pry free.

Still, he wouldn’t give up.

The Knight sheathed his sword, claiming victory. And he hadn’t needed to do anything but block and let Erec wear himself out.

He could only have his victory over Erec’s corpse.

Erec flung himself at the Knight, his legs failing but giving enough of a burst to stretch out.

He tried to bite him anywhere he could. Despite the Armor. He’d break his teeth—it didn’t matter. As long as he had a pulse, they’d keep going.

For the first time, the Knight showed uncertainty, pulling out of range. In doing so, he responded to the last attack by kicking Erec right in the chest.

A second later, the world spun, and Erec crashed into the ground ten feet away, kicking up more ash into the dark world. There was no more fire here. No more glow of lava, they were in complete darkness if not for the light let off by the Knight’s armor. Erec consumed it all, only to lose.

With slow steps, the Knight walked over him. Staring downward.

“Tis a testament that ye struggled so long; yet never submitted to defeat. In those eyes, even at this moment, tis not there. Only the will to swing the axe.” He shook his head. “Ye claim to be a Knight, yet what tis a Knight without a noble truth?”

The man crouched next to Erec, one of his gauntlets settling on Erec’s chest. He tried to move, to knock it free from him. But he couldn’t.

“Tis not to blame. Walking the path of a Knight tis more narrow and difficult than that of a warrior. By chivalry, I found my truth. Yours tis not anger. Because that tis not a truth, but a weapon, much like that axe. A weapon is the soul, nor tis it the true strength that lies beneath. Do not be deceived.”

“What do you know of me?” Erec said the words, though they tasted bitter. His drive to fight faded with his failing body.

“Ask and see. Tis ye who art I, and I who art thou. Become great, Erec. A hero among Knights without equal, may our name live long over these ashen wastelands and soar to the heavens.” The white Armor of the man burst into flames; flickering and burning, rushing into Erec. It didn’t sting like the fires of this planet. It didn’t burn him from the inside.

Instead, it healed.

His body, torn apart by the battle, became whole once more, knitted together and strengthened. Tempered in the white fire.

Erec stood—the ash swirled around his burning form, towering into the sky as a wall of black refuse whipped itself with abandon past him. Erec shielded his eyes—only to see the white gauntlet that had been worn by the Knight on his own arm.

His whole body was clad in the metal. In the distance, he saw a shine past the tornado of ash. Embers flickered in their midst as he once more became whole, burning with a white and silver fire.

Erec followed the flickering, shining light—seeing the buried massive axe in the ground.

Not knowing why, but feeling a sense of wholeness, he grabbed the weapon. Lifting it this time was easier than ever before. It felt like a natural extension of himself. The massive edges of the axe wavered, alive. Fire.

A notification seared his eyes.

Soul (Aspect: Fire): Rank E - Tier 3 → Rank E - Tier 9

Then, with a puff of air. All the fire blew out.

Darkness.

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