Knights Apocalyptica

Erec tugged at the uncomfortable ruffles around his sleeves—the silk dress shirt was both light and airy yet confining and uncomfortable. The jacket, of course, in tradition with current high fashion, lacked sleeves—and the done-up collar was ornate and obnoxious.

The exact sort of thing Garin might wear, only more expensive.

The greatest tragedy of this outrageous outfit was in the unquestionable prohibitive cost. That made moving around in it, and the prospect of attending a feast of all things wearing it, stressful.

Sure, they might be honoring him, but the idea of ruining silk worth about as much as his house was terrifying. Thousand times over, he’d rather he could’ve slinked back home and borrowed his father's jacket—or better, use his Academy formals. But that wasn’t an option.

[Well, don’t you look suave, real charmer buckeroo. You’ll drive people crazy.]

“Sure…” Erec kept staring in the mirror—his eyes had dark lines around them, and as he felt his rising anxiety and annoyance at the impending, he could’ve sworn he saw flickers of a red stir in their depths.

It had to have been in his imagination, triggered by what Olivia said. Though he imagined when he was fully enthralled with power, he made a terrifying sight.

There was a knock on the door.

Erec slid over and opened it—to meet his grinning friend. Garin stepped in and glanced at him —then immediately obsessed over fixing Erec’s collar, which apparently was important. Were it not for seeing Boldwick and Garin for the first time in weeks; today might’ve been one of the worst days of his life.

“Well! I think that’s fine enough. Good to see you! Honestly was worried sick; we all were. Even Colin, if you can believe it. He petitioned his father to step in on your behalf.” Garin said.

“He asked the Unbroken General to try to get me free from the church?” Erec rubbed the back of his head. “The uh, General didn’t, right?”

Despite the Duke making him spy on his son and promising to befriend him, the Duke hadn’t followed through with any demands. Yet. Erec didn’t want to open that doorway any further, let alone actively start supplying information about Colin to his father—initially, it didn’t seem that bad. But as he got to know Colin… he felt guilty at the prospect.

“No, he did. As someone famous for slaying a cataclysm-level threat, the Royal family was careful to listen. Thanks to him, they pushed for your immediate freedom. Much of the pressure in the nobility was rising from his dissatisfaction over the situation and his exerting pressure.”

“…That doesn’t bode well, does it?”

“Could be. If you aim to ally yourself with his house, they might be a powerful supporter behind you, but it’ll have costs to it, obviously.” Garin shrugged as if they weren’t covering over the sort of high-level politicking that made Erec’s heart hammer and head hurt. Wherever this went, it wasn’t somewhere he wanted to go. Would that he could isolate himself to the Order—but even Boldwick said this sort of thing was an aspect of being a Knight.

What a fucking joke.

Erec rubbed his eyes. Garin gave him an apologetic smile.

“Hey, don’t worry too much about it. You’re in a much better position now to pick your path, and it’s not likely anyone is out to make you an enemy yet. Not until you’re a more known presence in the court. Speaking of which… We’re running a bit late. Shall we head down?"

— -☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —

The feast was a thing of excess. By Erec's arrival, the long hall was already overcrowded with nobility. It seemed anyone at the rank of viscount or higher received an invitation—along with plenty of invitations thrown to baronies, unlanded nobles, and even merchants. As always, there were also Knights and military men. It’d been quite a long time since the royal family put on a festival of this size. This had to be a premier moment for many of these people to mingle and make allies and deals. For the less savvy, the ultimate occasion to celebrate and socialize.

One group was notably missing. It seemed the royal family declined to invite any prominent members of the church.

The event spanned a vast swath of the palace, including the gardens and grounds outside. In theory, a person could drift about and explore, find a nice quiet corner to hold a private conversation if it suited them. It didn't lack for things to do, however. Later after the meal would be contests, dancing, and music. With the day after hosting some events.

Yet for Erec, it was hell.

More of hell than the fire Fury lit in him. It was constant war from the moment he walked into the main chamber with Garin. A barrage of nobles assaulted him by forcing their introductions on him. They played pretend as they dug into his history, hobbies, and time in the academy. But they didn’t care at all about the answers. Occasionally one or two of them would throw in an offhanded remark about his mother.

Nothing unintentional. Unless it was to test him or if they thought he’d slighted them during the conversation. Mixed signals and anxiety made him constantly second-guess his responses.

It wasn’t all bad. There was a countess he met who promised to exchange letters, a baron who promised him an evening of playing a strategy game he’d been workshopping that seemed genuinely interesting—but those real moments of connections were few and far between in this environment.

Some sought an ally, but they weren’t as bad as those trying to marry him off to their daughters or blatant attempts to woo him. Killing the Stag seemed to bring attention from the woodwork; being a hero had a price.

After an hour, he wanted to hide in the garden. Two hours in, Garin kept fighting to stop him from drinking the pain away. Past three… It blurred together.

At least the meal was lovely.

The dancing afterward, not so much. He fought to avoid getting on the floor and had a hell of a time accomplishing that.

But as he drove closer to the main event, he avoided any significant slights. That he picked up on, at least, he’d bumbled his way to safety and was soon making his way to the throne room with a larger number of spectators. Upon the throne sat the King, ancient upon his place of power.

His long gray hair curled, his deep blue eyes filled with a dull life as he watched his court fill. Near the throne, Boldwick watched with crossed arms—he’d run into his mentor a few times during the socializing, but each time the man was swept away by the hordes of nobles flooding him for attention.

Erec focused on his mentor rather than the King upon his throne.

It was odd. How small the man looked. Erec was sure he’d had the training to make him a heavy threat in combat. But when he pictured the Goddess upon her silver throne, he found this picture… lacking. Without that pure sense of overwhelming power, he didn’t seem to fit the part of what Erec thought a ruler should be. Even if, by all accounts, he was a very wise and balanced man.

“Approach.” His voice rang out through the hall, signaling the start of the reward ceremony.

Erec hesitated, but Garin gave him a slight push. With hundreds of eyes on him, Erec pressed forward, walking down the carpet lined before the throne and taking a knee as he hit the end. His eyes sank to the King’s feet, as befitting his station as both a Knight Initiate and the second son of an unlanded house.

Just get through this. Accept whatever they give you, and you’ll be fine.

Erec repeated the instructions to himself like it were a prayer. The same thought got him through the tedious night so far; it’d be enough for now.

“Erec of House Audentia. The second son of Lac Audentia, all are aware of why we are here today. For the Kingdom's safety, we authorized a hunt for the White Stag, an intelligent monster that threatened to destroy our way of life.” The King’s voice was like a river, smooth and full of depth. As he launched into his speech, Erec couldn’t help but look at the man—he left his throne, standing with an animated posture and full of vitality that had lacked mere moments ago. “We had determined it to be a significant threat over its clear goal and ability to open Rifts—little did we know it could also control our people. Were it a threat not addressed, Goddess above forgive us for what may have occurred.”

The crowd was silent as they lingered over the implication. Some of these nobles hadn’t experienced the reality of being out in the wasteland. They didn’t know the true horror of a monster puppeteering other humans.

“With the passing of this threat, we return to a period of safety. Let it never be forgotten the price paid and that we must continue to pay to keep this harmony. It is my pleasure, as a ruler to issue a reward for such an accomplishment—Erec of House Audentia, you who slew the White Stag. I levy upon you the name of the title of a new house and the lands befitting it. From this day forward, you shall be known as Count Erec of House Audax.”

Erec’s hands shook. That was far above Garin—Wait—A count!?

“Obviously, it would be difficult to manage an estate, let alone the people you would be responsible for as steward of the land I shall bestow in the seventh cavern—so, this title shall be accompanied by a staff paid for by the crown’s funds until such a day you can properly take the reins.” The King waved away the details as if bored by the prospects before gliding away from his throne. He proffered his hand to Erec, his palm open to grasp. “Erec of House Audax, will you accept this reward as fair compensation for your service to the Kingdom?”

Numb, Erec accepted his hand, letting the King pull him to his feet. “I humbly accept this reward,” He said, the practiced words tumbling out his mouth. They told him to take what the Kingdom gave—he hadn’t considered what it actually entailed. He figured he’d become a landed lord, which is what many Knights sought, perhaps a barony if he was fortunate. Not to jump both that title, then the title of a viscounty. It was mind-blowing.

In his act of slaying the White Stag, he’d left the shadow of his brother for good and left the stain of his previous family behind. But now he had an estate he had no idea how to consider, nor was he above Garin in the Kingdom’s hierarchy.

Being a Knight meant the chance at earning such honors, but for him to do as an initiate…

The King leaned in, as the cheering from the nobles erupted. Too quiet for anyone else to hear. “Truly, young one. You have my gratitude. Yet, I cannot help but worry when I look upon you. It is far too easy to end up chasing danger and finding death in this world, and though you may feel you’ve only begun your tale, this achievement would be the crowning one for many’s lives. I see it in your eyes. You haven’t found what will let you settle down and live a contented life. I pray you do, for peace is more satisfying than war.” With that, the King retreated.

Leaving Erec both confused and to the pack of rabid nobility who now saw a young man appointed to the rank of Count who had no idea what the hell to do with it.

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