Knights Apocalyptica

The guards escorted Erec through Nitidus’ vast estate. Gorgeous old-world artifacts and new-age artwork lined the walls. The washed-out red and blue starred flag set near the audience hall caught Erec’s attention the most. Yet the beauty distracted from the moment, in the same way staring at the ceiling did when a doctor jammed you with a needle—a way to focus away from the incoming pain.

Erec cleared his throat as he entered the audience chamber—fine carpeting led to a steel throne that commanded respect. Resting on the arm of the throne was a large spear—taller than a man, its tip carved into a wrapping groove that gave it the appearance of a massive flared screw. The similarities between this room and the royal court were incalculable, and seated on the fine steel throne was the Unbroken General.

He was heavyset, his frame near herculean. Duke Nitidus’s face was aged and tanned like the hide of a stag. Grey streaks highlighted his hair, and he had tired brown eyes that took Erec in with a lazy appreciation. He turned to his guards.

This was the man who slew the Rot Behemoth. A creature capable of corrupting the flesh of any ordinary man who got close to it. Then turned their corpses into walking abominations hell-bent on killing more. The monster targeted their kingdom, would have killed countless on the surface, and sent humanity into the deepest caverns to flee its putrid essence.

“You may go; you have my thanks for your due diligence,” Duke Nitidus addressed the two guards escorting Erec with a tilt of his head, dismissing them.

They left through the door and slammed it behind them, leaving Erec alone with the Duke.

A long moment passed as they traded a silent stare. Erec wasn’t sure where this would go—what sort of punishment would he demand? It seemed that the Duke was content in the oppressive silence. He waited for Erec to act, break, and show his hand.

Erec folded under that steel scrutiny, trying to hide his shaking hands. He took quick steps to the throne, leaned down, and placed the Cserula IV’s helmet. “My sincere apologies. I needed it for the battle.”

There was a swish of air—knocking Erec back from his supplication and onto his ass. Quicker than his eyes could track, the Duke had drawn his spear, then cut the flat end through the space between them to collect the helmet. The sheer speed in which he slashed through the air created enough pressure to send Erec reeling. The helmet rested on the end of the spear. The Duke popped it into the air a second later and caught the spinning helmet in his free hand.

The Duke leaned the spear back on the throne, then ran a finger over the deep dent marring the helmet’s otherwise smooth surface.

“This was an expensive helmet. I did not spare for defense when it came to protecting my heir; Armor fits the man, and, unfortunately, the limitations of his power reduced how complex we could make the model…” The Duke sighed and shook his head. “That a hatchet and an ill-maintained Markos II held enough power to do this is unbelievable. After looking over the specifications offered by my engineer, it is an impossible feat.”

Erec kept silent, eyes on that spear. If the Duke had wanted, he could’ve run him through with the weapon before Erec knew what happened. Did he twist the spearhead as it stabbed into his opponent, digging it deeper in the same way a screw tunneled through wood?

“Yet, ‘There is nothing impossible to him who will try,’ is that the saying? I do believe so.” With that statement, the Duke threw the helmet over his shoulder—it smashed against the wall and then clattered to the floor. After which, the Unbroken General pressed his attention onto Erec in full; there was a tangible weight behind those eyes. “When confronted with reality we must adapt. You gave my son a concussion and sought further harm. In addition to that, I’ve been told you levied insults aplenty during the Academy’s trial.”

“I had cause at the time, yet I acted rashly. I did not mean to get that carried away or to bring harm to your House.” Erec stood straighter. “However, the mistakes I made are mine alone. Not any that belong to House Audentia. Whatever punishment it is you’re seeking, I would ask that they be excluded from it. If required, I will denounce myself from the family line.”

“You have a brother and a father.”

“I do,” Erec said.

“Then you should understand the burden of a family line. I have but one heir, and as I’ve grown, I’ve come to realize there is precious else that matters of one’s legacy than that which will carry it on to the future.”

Erec kept silent at this; a calm had taken to the Duke’s expression. The man stood at full height—half a foot taller than Erec; he was a warrior. The scars running across his face whispered stories of war, and there was a coldness in his cadence that hinted at a man used to seeing the death of those around him.

“I shall state plainly; not a single among the Academy’s Orders are willing to offer you rank. This is due to the grievance against my house witnessed by the nobility. Considering that your actions led to injury against my heir, and if you were not stopped, worse would have occurred, they don’t dare to offer insult so publicly.” Erec’s blood ran cold, and his gut twisted into knots. Everything he worried about, the poisonous whispers in the back of his head he fought to ignore were confirmed. The way the Duke spoke of his doomed fate was matter-of-fact; frank as a general is ought to be when discussing the situations his troops faced. “In short, with healthy respect and fear, they do not wish to provoke my anger.”

“I—I beg your forgiveness.”

“Do not dare insult me with platitudes. Your actions were justified.”

Erec jerked as if the Duke hit him; so strongly did the confusion at the statement slap him upside the head. He understands why I did what I did?

“However, do not mistake my ability to comprehend the full extent of the situation as a resolution of forgiveness. No. I am still angry that you brought harm to my son, that you would have gone further had you not been stopped. But I am not the type to make decisions based on anger. Such rash strategies devised by emotion ignore opportunities one might otherwise seek.” The Duke sighed and returned to his throne; he sat and leaned forward, resting his chin in hand.

“So you’re still going to punish me… I’m confused. If you think what I did was justified, then…”

“Yes. You may hate me for the punishment I chose to issue. You may despise me for taking away the freedom you crave. But I will have you see why I must do it.” The Duke said as Erec’s eyes narrowed.

This is it. He’s going to keep me out of the Academy. If it is just that, then maybe… No, it wouldn’t be fine. For as long as he remembered, all he dreamed of was to be a Knight. To take that away wasn’t taking away freedom from him; it was taking away the reason why he drew breath.

“I already do see the flames of hate stoking in your eyes. So, I will begin my explanation and then present to you the punishment I’ve deemed fit.” The Duke nodded his head slowly. “I’ve been a poor father. My name may have weight to it; my actions may have saved many. Yet those accomplishments were owed to my fixation on how I might push myself to new heights. I am a great general, yet a bad father. When I had a son, I was overjoyed yet gave him little of my time. It was a mistake, yes. That I see plain with hindsight. Colin grew up with little guidance; his mother spoiled him as she, bless her, had a weak heart for such things. I cannot blame her, as I do too for these matters.”

Erec remained silent. Was it fair of this man to sit here and throw out all of these reasons before he stole away Erec’s dream? That’s what it meant to be higher nobility, you could do what you wanted, and those beneath had to live with it.

“He grew up alone. Our name conveyed those around him to pay him great respect, and we never truly taught him how to interact reasonably with others. For that, now, others pay the price for his sheer arrogance. Far too late, I realized the impact this was causing. My attempts to correct the behavior now only drive a wedge deeper between us and aggravate his attitudes. Were I a stronger man, I’d disinherit him to teach him his place. Yet doing so would lose me my only son.”

That was it; Erec couldn’t bite his tongue any further. “So you let him get away with it?”

“Yes. I have for far too long. Yet you’ve done something I hadn’t managed. When he spoke of you, there was hate, yet also respect. Due to your actions, that arrogance tempered,” The Duke sighed and rubbed his temple. “This is not an easy situation, nor is it easy to admit my failings so bluntly. Yet for you to do what I wish, I must. I would see you befriend my son and change the course of his future. I fear his time in the Academy will lead to isolation or, at the worst, lead him to be surrounded by those who seek to use him. They would offer him praise and platitudes in return for status and power, a trap I am ashamed to admit he would fall easily for. Such people would gladly stab him in the back later for power.”

What the hell? The way he makes it sound…

“I am not a fair man, and thus I charge you with a two-folded punishment. You will attend the Academy and, in doing so, forge a bond of friendship with my son. Whatever the task may take, I expect you to accomplish it. And once ingrained in his private life, you will keep me abreast of his affairs.”

“…Your punishment is me befriending him—I don’t even think that’s possible—and then spying on him for you?” Erec was baffled.

“From respect comes mutual understanding. And from that may come friendship. Through the Academy’s lens, I saw your interactions with the others in your group. I believe it possible if you were to set your mind to it.” The Duke stopped leaning on his hand, setting both of his arms on the throne, and sat straight. He cut a figure like a King. A man who would not be denied his royal orders, his voice held a steel tone to it that commanded absolute obedience.

Erec found himself faltering. This was a way to avoid repercussions for his family. “I thought you said that none of the Orders were willing to offer me a place.”

“There is a Master Knight who has been relentless about granting you a position in their Order. Were I to send a missive to that Knight’s Order expressing my private support, they’d be willing to fold and allow him to take any political ramifications for the gesture.” Meaning that the Order would take the heat, but knowing that the Duke wouldn’t take direct action against them, they would be willing to weather the fallout. “Sir Boldwick, who witnessed your actions firsthand, also realized the justification behind them. He saw how you may have prevented a bad situation from getting worse. Even if you did go too far.”

He stood up for me? It was hard to reconcile the otherwise affable Master Knight with someone willing to press on an issue like that. Erec wasn’t aware he’d made that big of an impression.

“With all that has been said; do I have your vow that you will cede to my punishment and use the utmost of your ability to fulfill them?”

“…You do.”

“I would have you make the vow upon the Goddess’ name.”

Erec looked up to the heavens, heart constricting in his chest. A vow on Her name was the most binding an agreement could get. Failing to meet your vow wrought consequences upon you by the Goddess herself.

“I vow to do my utmost to befriend Colin Nitidus, to sway him from his arrogance and bring him to a better path. In doing so, I will give you any information about him that you wish. This I swear by the Goddess Lavinia.”

His heart constricted in his chest as if a hand clutched it—Erec gasped. The pressure faded away, yet he still felt a numbness settle in him. The Duke gave a slight nod.

“Very well. Your punishment has been issued. I will send a missive to the Order of the Verdant Oak. I expect to see you at the ceremony tomorrow morning.” With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Erec. With little hesitation, Erec strumbled out of the chamber. His mind raced and ached as he considered how he’d befriend Colin to spy on him.

Impossible. This is impossible. The words of the Unbroken General echoed in his head, “There is nothing impossible to him who will try.” I’m screwed.

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