Knights Apocalyptica

We sat late. We could not tear ourselves away from each other, nor persuade ourselves to say the word "Farewell!" It was said; and we retired under the pretence of seeking repose, each fancying that the other was deceived: but when at morning's dawn I descended to the carriage which was to convey me away, they were all there—my father again to bless me, Clerval to press my hand once more, my Elizabeth to renew her entreaties that I would write often, and to bestow the last feminine attentions on her playmate and friend.

I threw myself into the chaise that was to convey me away, and indulged in the most melancholy reflections. I, who had ever been surrounded by amiable companions, continually engaged in endeavouring to bestow mutual pleasure, I was now alone. In the university, whither I was going, I must form my own friends, and be my own protector. My life had hitherto been remarkably secluded and domestic; and this had given me invincible repugnance to new countenances.

-Mary Shelley, Frankenstein; Or, The Modern Prometheus (1818, 2nd Era)

Erec found a moment to pull Boldwick aside after the sudden announcement. The Master Knight beamed as he wrapped an arm over Erec’s shoulder. Behind them, the celebration that had been winding down found new life. These people no longer cared how late it was or how tired they were. There was now a greater cause for celebration—an alliance between the Knights and the Pendragons.

“That girl who helped me with the scouting expedition found out about my old-world tech,” Erec cut to the chase once they had some distance. She’d vanished into the crowd of Pendragons.

Of course, she had. Probably to tell her Dragon about what she’d found out. Which led to his second point.

“I’m sure she has some divine talent that makes her impossible to spot. I believe it’s how she managed to follow me for so long into the wasteland without me knowing she was there.”

Boldwick stood there quiet for too long, only pulling Erec closer enough so their words were too soft to hear. “If she knows about whatever secret you’ve hidden away, you coming to me means you’re worried they’ll go after you for it and, by extension us. That’s why you’re so worried, right?”

“Exactly why.” Erec agreed, his head still filled with fog after being around that girl for so long. She’d struck him as trustworthy, but what did he know about these people? About anyone outside of the walls? Even she’d confronted him with suspicion he might be trying to call more people in so they could launch a surprise attack on her people.

“We’re too strong for them to try anything against?”

Boldwick barked out a laugh and shook his head. “That would be your conclusion, wouldn’t it? But no. Think from their perspective—I suppose you heard by now that our Kingdom is notorious for the wasteland. These people are mercenaries, Erec. They roam around to try to collect tech and make enough money to keep their family together and happy, but still able to maintain their freedom. Our Armor and whatever old-world tech you’ve squirreled away would be the same level of temptation, regardless.”

“…Doesn’t that mean we should be worried?”

“If it wasn’t clear to them that a partnership between us is better for the both of us, and believe me, that’s clear. What you’re suffering from is our Kingdom's common ailment— the fear of the unknown. From the moment you were born, you were told that the wasteland was something to fear, a place with nothing but monsters. More than many your age, you have already seen that this isn’t quite correct—yet hold onto nothing but fear. Healthy mistrust and paranoid suspicion are two sides of the same coin, but I think to conquer that, you should consider meeting this group as truly fortunate. One of those rare opportunities that pass by in life that could change everything about how you see the world if you let it.”

As much as a part of Erec doubted the words, he couldn’t look away from the conviction in Boldwick. It was coming from that some place of judging people that’d let Boldwick flag him down as a potential student. He had a way of seeing past people.

Erec stared at the bonfire, watching the Knights and the Pendragons get along with a wild joy that wasn’t seen in the Kingdom.

This was a different world, filled with new people. But to get to it, he’d have to confront and make peace with the part of him that lived on from where he was born—primarily if he intended on ever finding his mother out here. That was the point of this expedition, a leap of faith and an extension into humankind outside of the wall.

Trust other humans, and rise together.

“I’ll try to relax.” Erec said, “There’s this last thing— been stuck on mind since the expedition began. My Virtues changed… Something replaced Faith—Soul... With an aspect of Fire? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“That—“ Boldwick stopped and started twice. “Right, stumped. Always an oddity. Consult Dame Morgana—and if she fails, I’ll make some discrete inquiries with the Pendragons to see if they’ve ever heard of anything like that.”

Boldwick gave him a last clap on the shoulder, the metal making a loud but comforting clang.

“See? Not much to worry about. These people are genuine; you’re never defenseless. Caution is always good, but you have to let it go sometimes. And yes, the irony of me having to say that to you shouldn’t be lost on either of us.” Boldwick sighed. “Get some rest. We’ve cattle to sort tomorrow.”

With that, Boldwick left him to return to the bonfire.

Erec took off his helm and rubbed his eyes. After everything, exhaustion was deep in his bones.

But there was more to do tonight; if they would tie themselves to these people for longer, it was better to know even more.

Erec strode boldly back to the flames, cheered forward by the loud strum of guitars and enthusiastic conversation.

— -☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —

Erec held for dear life on the frame of a car. It was little more than a stripped steel skeleton rigged up to throw itself over the ground as fast as it could. With every rock the car flew over, Erec winced in his Armor; these things were just capable of fielding a single Knight with each vehicle, but the Pendragons didn’t seem to care.

The one solace was the feel of the wind smashing against his face—he’d raised his visor to feel, and there was nothing quite like it.

Well maybe. But only a few Knights could fly, and he wasn’t one of them. As a child, he dreamed of flying off from the Kingdom and watching the desert roll by beneath him. In those dreams, the wind felt something like this

“Going faster!” Yniol warned, met with an enthusiastic cheer from Enide and the other two Pendragons on this death mobile.

Smoke barreled out of the back pipes as the speed instantly picked up, steel rocking forward as the frame smashed across more of the rocky landscape. It'd be so easy for it hit the wrong thing, break apart, and spill everyone across the wasteland. Yniol rocketed past the other cars, his passengers whooping and mocking their pack as Yniol took the lead.

This inevitably spiraled into an ill-advised rush of death mobiles vying for dominance.

Behind them, the other cars pressed their pedals to the floor.

Enide gave a wild yell as she stood up next to Erec, her hair crazy as the wind threw it about, middle fingers raised high towards the car coming up behind them.

In response, their pursuers ‘gently’ pushed against the left rear side of their car, throwing Yniol into a spin as they stole the lead.

Erec let out a scream of alarm as their driver fishtailed out of the uncontrolled spin and stormed after the three other cars that’d passed them in the chaos.

Yniol maneuvered quickly, catching the windbreak of a car ahead to speed forward. In a frankly heart-racing instant, he’d managed to climb back towards the second place, right behind the car that’d pitted them beforehand. Now pursuing the vehicle, Erec realized who they were chasing. The tattooed man who led the Pendragons—their fearless leader with returning a middle finger while driving with one hand.

“Bastard!” Enide screamed at the top of her lungs, cupping her hands together to get him to hear her over the sound of engines and rushing wind.

Erec’s grip tightened as Yniol nearly spun out on a rock. These people weren’t afraid at all. Out of everyone here, he’d be the best off since he had Armor. Yet why was he the most afraid?

With great reluctance, he pried his fingers free from his death grip.

“Pa, don’t let’em win!” Enide screamed

“Boost it!” Someone else called.

“Why in the hell are we even racing?” Erec asked quietly, but as expected, nobody heard or answered.

Instead, Yniol slammed a hand down on a knob on the dashboard, and the world sped up. There was a loud bang behind them as the car doubled its speed; Erec turned in horror to see a massive torrent of flame flaring out from the pipework in the back. One of the cars following behind them pulled an emergency maneuver to avoid the pillar of fire.

[Madness.]

But the move had the intended effect. They shot past the car in the lead and flew across the wasteland, putting distance between them and the rest of the pack.

“Victory!” Yniol yelled.

Then, the fire vanished from the back of the car, and a plume of smoke burst from the engine in the front. Yniol slammed on the brakes as the smoke also turned into a fire—jerking everybody forward and smashing Erec’s face on the seat in front of him.

He groaned as the car swirled into a sudden and abrupt spin and stop.

Cars flew past, skimming the space next to them in their race to match Yniol’s unexpected stop. “Damn engine!” Yniol yelled, throwing himself out of the driver's seat. One of the passengers chucked their leather coat at him—which Yniol promptly began to bat the fire away with.

Seeing that the engine was on fire, Erec wisely climbed out of the car—rubbing at his forehead.

A couple of the passengers rushed to help Yniol put out the flames, and in the distance, Erec could see that the pack was already turning around. If it was to mock Yniol or also help, Erec had no clue. But it was clear that, at least for a little while, the trip was coming to pause.

“Good race, yeah?” Enide leaned next to Erec out of nowhere; he felt the hair go up all along the back of his neck.

“Shouldn’t you be helping?” Erec asked.

“Naw, that got it handled. Pa’d be angry if I touched his baby. Swear he treats it better than me when I was little. The rest of’em are only putting out the fire. Once that’s done, they’ll let’em do his thing. Betsy’s always breaking down, but it’s better to see how she wants to break down on the road than when it matters.”

It made a twisted sense only that it made none at all. “You sure testing it with a wild death race is the best way?”

“Sheesh, so worked up, huh, gunslinger? R-elax. Whole day to take it easy again, and from what I heard, you lot probably aren’t looking too forward to hitting Worth again, right? One of you spilled a load of troubles from the last time you went there—Garin? I think? Didn’t sound too nice.”

Of course, they’d spoken.

Erec removed his helmet; if they were waiting again, he’d soak in a bit of the sun. The rest of the cars were pulling up, and a driver was already reaching for beer even before turning his engine off.

“I’ll take it easy. Any suggestions on how Enide? What do you normally do to kill time?”

She gave an easy grin, “Can think about a dozen ways, but some of’em might be too much for someone like you. One comes to mind, though,” she flicked her head towards the other cars. “Let's get some others, then have a time-honored tradition.”

With that, she sped away, already hyping herself for what was on her mind.

Erec drummed up his enthusiasm, following behind the girl. Even though it was hard to be around strangers for so long, Enide had a way of infecting him with her energy; it was like borrowing something he was missing. And, whatever she planned would no doubt be fun.

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