Knights Apocalyptica

Erec scarcely opened his eyes for a second, before he had to roll over and vomit pure black rot out of him. And he kept vomiting, tears running down his eyes as he emptied his stomach into the dirt. It had a peculiar way of gathering, pulling together, and becoming an almost mud of vomit and wasteland.

For most of an hour, his reality centered on a single point of suffering.

Once he’d spewed out more black-like grease from him than he could’ve imagined, he finally gathered himself enough to see what the hell was happening around him.

He almost wished he hadn’t.

Garin was by the burnt-out fire, rocking back and forth. The skin on his face was peeling off in flecks of white, black, and red. The wind would catch chunks and blow them away as if they were cracking free, leaving raw red flesh beneath. His eyes were distant, not fully there or comprehending what was going on around him.

Given Erec’s experience with the silver flames and disassociation that came after, he could very well imagine what happened.

This time, though, unlike those before, he was unfortunately grounded in reality. Vomit. The overwhelming smell and raw, torn throat as more bile poured out. All of it kept him glued firmly on this world.

Erec’s gaze slid to Colin. Who was on the ground, twitching. An occasional bolt of lightning flashed out of him and discharged into the air.

Alive or dead?

The adult who’d brought them into this slept on the ground not far away, resting in a bed of flowers. They had no business living in the desert.

“Fuck, this was a bad idea,” Erec croaked.

He vomited again, then dragged himself into action. Inch by inch, he crawled his way over to Colin. Once he reached the boy, he gave him a shake—Colin’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, tongue lulling out.

Not good.

Erec set fingers to his friend’s neck.

“Is he alive?” Erec asked.

[Pulse detected.]

“Thank the Goddess,” Erec shook Colin for a solid minute—only stopping when another bolt burst out of his friend.

With that strike, Colin’s pupils returned, and he gasped for breath.

“Are you alright?” Erec asked.

“Magic is alive.”

“Oh.” Erec shook his head. He might be alive, but like Garin, it would take some time before he was functioning and pulled himself back together. “Get your stuff together, alright? I think we’ve been out here for longer than intended. Boldwick is probably wondering where we went.” With that, Erec forced himself to his feet.

One last person to confront. The unconscious idiot who led them on this drug trick that left everyone on it unquestionably scarred. Erec wobbled as he walked towards her; even the air around the woman felt cleaner. She rested on a bed of multicolored flowers and greenery that shouldn’t have existed.

It made him wonder if any of this was real, or yet another hallucinogenic vision. How much of this was just the drugs?

Erec paused before waking her, pulling upon his Blessing to see his Virtues.

Name: Erec of House Audax

Health: 100% | Mana: 100% | Stamina: 28%

———————————————————————

Virtues:

Strength: [Rank D] | [Tier 7]

Vigor: [Rank E] | [Tier 9]

Agility: [Rank E] | [Tier 6]

Perception: [Rank E] | [Tier 5]

Cognition: [Rank E] | [Tier 4]

Psyche: [Rank E] | [Tier 7]

Mysticism: [Rank F] | [Tier 4]

Soul (Aspect: Fire): [Rank E] | [Tier 9]

———————————————————————

Divine Talents:

Fury

So… It all hadn’t been for nothing. That fight with the Knight… How did it relate to his Soul?

Her methods were questionable, but they had affected his Blessing. But the results and the lack of any real guidance on what to expect, however…

“Wake up,” Erec said.

Dame Morgana’s eyes fluttered, and she gave a delicate yawn, moving a strand of hair from her eyes. Acting as though she’d recovered from a wonderful nap.

“Always pleasant to return from your Soul, isn’t it?” she said.

“Pleasant?”

“Seeing it should’ve been obvious. You took a trip to the crux of your soul,” Dame Morgana pushed herself up, a smile on her lips; as she left the bed of flowers, they wilted as she pulled away.

“Ma’am. You gave us a hallucinogenic tea, performed your magic, and then I woke up to this.” Erec gestured to the lightning discharging Colin and the catatonic Garin,

“What did you see?”

“Hell. I fought with a Knight there, got my ass kicked, then they told me we were the same person. I felt like I was dying there. Threw everything I could, and in the end, he told me anger was only a tool. What sense does any of that make?”

“…Well, much more barbaric than my first encounter. Given, the crux of your soul is a reflection. And upon your first meeting, there will be a challenge. Maybe not a straight fight. But perhaps the way of fire? Or is it the soul of a warrior which prompts such a trial?” Dame Morgana tilted her head, expecting him to provide some meaningful insight.

“Soul of a Knight,” Erec corrected her. He wasn’t sure, but that distinction felt important.

“I’ll have to write your account in my journal later. Besides, the ritual isn’t dangerous. The repercussions with the church… Well, they’re foolish anyway,” she took in the rest of the group. “Everyone’s journey was successful, wonderful!”

“They lost their Faith virtue, then?”

“You say lost. As if it was yours, to begin with, but it isn’t. That is borrowed power; we mustn’t rely on that which isn’t ours.”

Erec sighed; and then winced, suppressing the urge to once more vomit as his stomach rebelled.

“It’s to be expected, as someone new to this world; I’d say welcome to your rebirth, but you already did so. Though connecting with your Soul early is a welcome boon, to be sure. So, let us welcome the ones who experienced their rebirth—“ for the first time she looked at the sky. A look of complete shock appeared on her face. “Oh… Oh dear, we’re running late. Boldy’s going to be mad.”

Erec had nothing to say to that. Not that Morgana provided any space in her constant flow of instructions to follow, at her direction, he got Garin on his feet. His friend was shedding skin like a Blister Crawler. They shoved his helmet on and called it good enough.

Colin kept jerking around as his body discharged electricity, but as they walked, the bolts became less frequent.

As for himself, he only had to pull them to a stop a couple of more times to empty his stomach. Dame Morgana cheerfully exclaimed that soon he shouldn’t have to worry about that at all, since his body was very close to purification. Erec took that as a small measure of comfort.

So they continued back to the rest of the group. Even with the two mutes hanging on by threads.

Time waited for no man. Reborn or otherwise.

— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —

From the second they came into sight of the cars, Boldwick began yelling.

It was understandable for him to be angry; even if the noise made Erec’s skull ring. The feeling was like a Fury-powered hangover. Scraping his brains out and spreading the on the sand; Erec nearly vomited again. So, he had no choice but to walk away.

He was lucky that Boldwick let him go. Far more interested in drilling into Dame Morgana.

Step by step, he came more into himself.

And then he noticed he had a ghost.

Yniol trailed behind him, the big man all blustered up and with a red face. Erec’s insides turned over, and he steeled himself, turning to confront the man. Though he didn’t feel up to it, he would take this chance. Better than another long-ass drive wondering which way it would end up.

“Erec.” The man said, puffing his chest up and standing right up to Erec—though he was about an inch shorter, and compared to Erec in his Armor… That act wasn’t as formidable as Yniol probably hoped. “We are going to talk.”

“Yeah. If you wanna talk, let’s do it now. Clear the air.” Erec said, trying to sound diplomatic. His throat was still raw, and the words didn’t come easy.

“What are your intentions with my daughter?”

Straight to the point.

“I like her. A lot. I know we don’t work much for the future, but I’m trying not to think about that at the moment. If I had to guess, she’s probably not either, but I’d have to ask to be sure.”

“Damn right neither of you is thinking about the future!” Yniol yelled, his face flushing. “Problem with being young! Always about ‘now, now, now’ never about what might happen—“ He raised an accusatory finger to Erec’s chest, pressing it against the Armor. Erec gave it a lazy look, trying to rein in the fire flaring in him; even if it took away the sickness.

That was the issue. The drive to fight. Even if his heart wasn’t truly into such a conflict, that fire burned, wanting to make itself available. But if it was a weapon, then he would wield it accordingly.

“Are you trying to piss me off?” Erec asked, letting a bit of that anger burn, “Yniol. I like you. But I’m not someone you push the buttons of. I don’t want to cross you, but please, take your finger off my chest.”

Yniol retracted the offending digit; he rubbed his face and let out a puff of hot air.

“You’re right. Aint you a got a problem with. Say it straight. Did you go into that Rift after my daughter?”

“She was part of it, yeah.” It wasn’t in him to lie about it anymore. It was a new day, a new him. If it wasn’t the complete reason, it was still there as one of the factors. He’d lied to himself before, but now, he saw it plain as day.

“Repeating the same mistakes I did with her mother. Maybe this is karma. Nothing can be good from fire and fuel.” Yniol shook his head. “If you hurt my daughter, I swear by this wasteland I’ll break into that steel curtain surrounding your city, drag you out, and bury you in a ditch.” With that, Yniol stalked off. Full of bluster, but from the slant of his shoulders and the relieved tension, he no longer penned up his anger.

Erec watched him go, reeling.

He paused, looking over his shoulder. “Get your ass back to my car. We’re driving off in ten fucking minutes. I’m going to lose my mind.”

[Looks like you have the father’s approval. Courting rituals really stay the same. How much of this is derived from cultural history, or is it from a primal animal instinct? Curious.]

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