Knights Apocalyptica

“Quit while you’re ahead; all the best gamblers do.”

- Baltasar Gracian (2nd Era, Unknown)

The horizon held a beautiful sight. Rows of tents flying flags of every color backdropped a row of steel carts. Wind swept the pennants in the air, waving proudly above humankind’s finest Army. All of the Knight Orders were represented, but most prominent was the giant silver and red flag that represented the Kingdom.

“Finally,” Garin chuckled. “Made back mostly in one piece.”

Erec didn’t have to say anything, and his friend knew more than anyone the stress they’d been under. Though, things weren’t likely to change too much now. Not if he got his way. A group broke off from the main Army, quickly heading their way.

Several of the people piloted Armor—their welcoming committee.

“It’s surprising nothing else challenged us. They must’ve known I was here and decided to cower. It shall be excellent to take a rest for a few days. I’ve looked forward to this.”

“Nothing’s changed, Colin.” Erec shut him down. Colin was a keystone to this plan, and there wasn’t time for him to lounge around doing nothing. “Unless we show them what you can do, we won’t get any renown.” Not that he particularly cared about the reputation, but he knew it would be sufficient motivation to pull Colin forward. All they needed to do was demonstrate their discovery to people that mattered, then push to get back out into the wasteland.

Then they could hunt the Stag.

Hopefully, it would be quick enough, as long as it didn’t get time to put together a more sophisticated attack to take on the Army.

“A lot has changed,” Olivia said quietly as the Knights continued to advance toward them.

True.

They hadn’t walked out into the wasteland this time as bright-eyed initiates. Not after the last expedition and how it’d ended, but the challenges they'd faced this time had been completely different and far more challenging. Survival necessitated change.

The Knight arrived—then confirmed their identity. After that, it was a quick matter of how to transfer their ‘prisoners’ or, rather, the possesed they managed to bring with them.

Then came the dreaded topic. What were they going to do with the troops Erec led back? As the Knight in charge of their relief party began to dig into the topic, Erec finally cut in.

“You’ll be leaving my centuria intact,” Erec commanded, throwing steel into his voice. The Knight Protector did a double take.

“Excuse me? What is your rank again?” The Knight asked. Though, they were both aware that Erec was only an initiate. This man, Sir Jonas, might not be much higher—but it was enough. Ironically, he was the same rank Dame Yuvia was.

“I’ve led these people back. Ask them if they want to disband and get dissolved into other centuria. You’ll find they’ve agreed to stay with me.”

Olivia and Colin turned to look. They hadn’t been roped into this plan, but Garin was. His best friend moved directly to Erec’s side. His lieutenant. The co-conspirator for this grab for authority and the man that made this possible. Without Garin acting as a go-between with the troops, there wasn’t a shot in hell that these people would agree to stay with him, an initiate. But now…

“This is asinine.” Sir Jonas said. “You do not have authority to lead—“

“I don’t? I saw someone your rank lead us into an ambush they’d been warned about for days. I brought these people back here safely and earned my right to lead for the rest of this fight. Ask them! They don’t want anyone else. And you’ll let them do what they want; I’ve promised to get them through this with my Strength. If you have a problem with that, then beat me in a fight.”

Everyone froze in place.

There it was again—another public challenge to a duel. The Knight Protector swayed in his spot, unsure how to respond, just like Sir Jefferson had.

It was a risky gambit, but Erec hoped this man heard enough about him to not want to risk losing face by testing him.

“Fine. If you’re so hell-bent on this, I won’t be the one to relieve you of your command. You get to explain it to the Master Knights yourself, and have them personally strip you of the authority. Follow me this instant.” Sir Jonas turned on his heel and stormed off toward the main encampment.

This was what he’d hoped for. Erec paused to look at Garin. “Look after the soldiers, alright? Make sure they get set up with rations and drinks for tonight. Colin, come with me please.”

Garin saluted him, then grabbed Olivia to tend to their soldiers. With the two of them working together, there wasn’t anything to worry about. Colin followed easily enough, and they made good pace after Sir Jonas. The man sped-walk past the tents, making a casual effort to go slightly too fast to make them struggle to keep up. Petty.

But maybe earned. His response to Erec’s eyes looked pathetic, especially in front of the other Knights.

However, the weak didn’t have the right to tell him what to do—

Erec shook his head.

Intrusive. That fire in his gut and how it influenced his logic was growing far too quickly, and the desire to slip into Fury was all too intoxicating. Was this the natural progression of his Divine Talent?

Erec frowned and picked up his speed. The key was to remain focused on one thing at a time.

— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —

The command tent had a unique atmosphere—a surface-level sense of relaxation and joy, underlined by severe tension and disorder. Unlike before, it wasn’t just the Master Knights of the Verdant Oak. No, there were representatives of each of the Orders. All of them Master Knights. The power stuffed under this thin linen tent was enough to blow away a mountain, probably. Some of them didn’t even bother wearing their Armor. They were filled with confidence in their ability to manage an emergency without it if something occurred.

One thing was certain. Few of them were impressed with Erec after Sir Jonas’ brief introduction and explanation of his challenge to him.

At least there were a couple of familiar faces. Though, Boldwick looked perplexed with him and Sir Fulton unamused by Sir Jonas’ valid criticisms.

After Jonas’ report, Boldwick cut in to head off any discussion or reprimand.

“So, why?’ Boldwick opened his hands, “You came back to us; explain why you don’t want to relieve yourself of command and operate under a different Knight?”

It was a fair question, and it tactfully avoided accusing him of anything, considering he’d blatantly violated the chain of command. The best tone for this conversation Erec could hope for.

“I need them. Colin’s found a way to track the White Stag.” Erec gestured toward his friend—almost immediately, Master Knights began to object, several expressing angry skepticism and others arguing with their conjectures. No one believed initiates were capable of riddling out what they'd tried to do since the start of the hunt. They agreed on that if nothing else.

But they didn’t have an old-world machine stuffed inside their head and its pure scientific approach to magic. Nor were the first-hand witnesses to the radio-wave pulse at the towers.

They rumbled on for a few minutes, and Erec kept his head low. Even after breaking the chain of command to demand he retain leadership of his centuria, it was best to acknowledge these people were far above him.

Eventually, Boldwick shut everyone up and got back on track for their questioning.

“Explain,” Boldwick commanded. This time his tone was clear; he doubted them and expected Erec to have something.

“Colin, form the glyph.” Erec made room, and Colin took the center of the stage with flair. The boy lived for dramatics and slowly raised his hand in front of him, a smirk on display for all to see.

“Foolish of you to doubt my capabilities. I am heir to House Nitidus. Behold.” The white lines of their carefully crafted glyph burned into the air, hovering briefly as he poured mana into the formation in his head. He dragged out the process—long enough for the Knights to get a glimpse of it before activation.

As it completed, the Glyph condensed into a flare of light, which then shot off towards Colin’s left and vanished into nothing.

Boldwick gave an uncomfortable cough.

“Uh, you… figured out how to make a light that lasts for a couple of seconds?” Boldwick scratched the back of his head.

“Don’t be absurd; the glyph was designed to read mana and then transmit energy in the direction it detected it.” A mousy Master Knight from the Order of the Azure tower spoke up. She leaned forward and smiled. “If you may, could you use that Glyph again? This time try to maintain it for longer before setting it off. It’s a rather novel and niche concept, but I don’t mind offering advice to initiates on Mysticism.”

“Right.” Boldwick turned his eyes back to Erec. “And… What does that prove, and how exactly does a glyph that makes a bit of light mean you should retain command over an albeit diminished centuria?”

“The direction the light shot towards is the same direction it detects the Stag’s magical signature—we used the wavelength that amplified the White Stag’s magic when it took over half our centuria to work backward to trace its mana signature. Through testing, we were able to find the correct configuration. What you see now is the product of that. We can find the White Stag with it.”

The mousy Knight cupped her chin and tilted her head as Colin kept the Glyph formed.

“Clever idea.” She admitted shaking her head. “Tedious and unreliable, though. How can you be sure it’s not detecting trace magical energy and responding to that? Rifts have a way of distorting ambient magic. Which is assuming that you had the right wavelength, to begin with.”

[They do?]

“This is ridiculous. There isn’t a way that an initiate could devise a methodology for tracking the Stag—our priests have been attempting divination for weeks, to no avail. Yet they expect us to believe this farce? One of them is the Unbroken General’s son—clearly glory-seeking with a lie.” One of the Knights cut in, a large man in damn near enough steel plate to make his Armor triple the size of a man.

“How dare you! What family are you from anyway? I doubt it’s anything more than a barony—“ Colin’s glyph shattered as the boy snarled. The mousy Knight protested.

“Bah, I am a Master Knight. Rank means far more than any house.” The low, grave voice cut back across as the Master Knight found no shame in arguing with an initiate.

Erec cleared his throat, feeling nervous. He had been confident in their methods, but with the new information from that woman…

Boldwick let out a low laugh, silencing the fight from devolving further.

“Well. Alright then. This is a gamble if I understand correctly.” Boldwick folded his arms and shook his head. “Which is why you wanted to retain command. You wanted to take a chance on this theory. In other words, you’re seeking to lead a scouting expedition and see if your gamble pans out.”

“Yes, sir,” Erec said, straightening his back.

“Normally, I wouldn’t send off initiates to lead a centuria. But if these people want to stay under your command, we can devise a workaround. I’ll send you off with a Knight Lieutenant, who will let you play leader. From what I can see, there’s not much to lose with this since we’re sitting and spewing out scouting forces anyway. What’s one more?” Boldwick clapped his hands together.

“I refuse to allow this.” The Knight in the massive plating argued. “This is a waste of resources.”

“Good thing you’re not part of my Order. Lance, I don’t have to ask your advice on how I conduct scouting expeditions. So shut up and complain to the rest of the Silver Flames and your priests.” Boldwick snorted. “Erec, I’ll expect confirmation from those soldiers that they want to follow you; in the meantime, get me a list of supplies you’ll need. I expect a comprehensive plan. Please bring it to Dame Robin for approval. Then you have my permission to take her out on your expedition.”

With that, Erec had his chance.

“I did it all—I came up with the glyph,” Colin spoke up and puffed up his chest, missing the point of the conversation, let alone the shift in dynamics. The mousy Knight humored him, then made him pull up the glyph.

Erec gave Boldwick a nod and left. He needed to plan and put together the logistics. They’d find the White Stag and end this hunt.

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