Knights Apocalyptica
Chapter 246: Enchanted April

“I’d like so much to be friends,” she said earnestly. “Won’t you come and see me, or let me come to you sometimes? Whenever you feel as if you wanted to talk. I’ll give you my address”—she searched in her handbag—“and then you won’t forget.” And she found a card and held it out.

Mrs. Wilkins ignored the card.

“It’s so funny,” said Mrs. Wilkins, just as if she had not heard her, “but I see us both—you and me—this April in the mediaeval castle.”

Mrs. Arbuthnot relapsed into uneasiness. “Do you?” she said, making an effort to stay balanced under the visionary gaze of the shining grey eyes. “Do you?”

“Don’t you ever see things in a kind of flash before they happen?” asked Mrs. Wilkins.

-Elizabeth Von Arnim, The Enchanted April (2nd Era, 1922 )

“He sits and hides in the Academy all day long. That much is obvious to us. As frustrating as it is, we can't do anything about it, especially since he’s in the Verdant Oak dormitories.”

The Cardinal rocked in place, his skin itching as he stared at the reporting Knight. A true believer from the Order of the Silver Flames. There were always those who saw their service through the Order as an act of being an arbiter of the Goddess herself. But most still bent their knees to the King and not the true divine.

"I gave you a simple request," the Cardinal said, steepling his hands, feeling that burning sensation in his mind as the Goddess looked at him from far above. And it came with a flash of anger, as she disapproved of the man. Days. It had been days since they confirmed who she needed to be scorched into oblivion, and they’d still failed their task thus far. For him to survive under the Cardinal’s nose for so long was an affront to her.

Her love was fading, and with it, he felt the cold and lonely embrace of the void.

Kill. Kill. Kill.

Her voice echoed in his head, a dull hammering thud that had been going on for days. His veins felt burnt out, and his mind scorched from the command echoing in and out. Even sleep had failed to find him, tormented such by her need and his failure to deliver.

The Knight coughed, waiting for a response. And the Cardinal pulled himself enough out of her influence to at least continue the conversation.

"That is unacceptable," he said. "You have a simple duty. Yank him out of that Academy, submit him before us so that he may face Her judgment."

The knight shook his head. "Without Grandmaster Flames’ approval, we could never disrespect our sacred oaths like that. We must abide by the rules of the knighthood. And if we were to act against the Verdant Oak," he trailed off, "even if she were willing to.. We simply couldn’t.”

“There is no more sacred an oath than the one you swear before the Goddess. Do not let laws of men sway your judgment,” The Cardinal spoke, his voice growing firm. He saw fear in the man’s eyes, likely suspecting such an act would lead to a civil war, or at the very least a war between the Knight Orders.

But that was exactly the sort of thing that had been long coming to this kingdom. Every day, the time ticked by. Every day, the Goddess's anger only increased. The fact that these people thought they could rule above her and make their own laws, when really, they were just small worms compared to the great might of the goddess herself, was inexcusable.

They should be on their knees, begging for her commands, offering her whatever she asked. Just like him. That was the purpose of this kingdom to begin with, wasn't it? A resource and tool for her to achieve her agenda.

“Cardinal… What do you suggest?”

The Cardinal shook, his veins burning brighter, and his eyes starting to come undone slightly as the knight stepped back in horror. He gasped out, "I don't care. Do whatever you need to do. If the Order revokes your Knighthood due to diligently carrying out your faith, then you will be accepted in open embrace with the Church. You and your fellow true believers must determine what matters more. Laboring for a mere man, or finding everlasting rewards for serving Her.”

“…I—“ The Knight continued, “But—“

"There are no buts," the cardinal responded, stepping forward and pressing both hands on the knight's shoulders. "You have a holy mission, one that you must see executed. If we do not have this Erec in the next couple of days, we must escalate things to the point where they are required to obtain this heathen. This is a mission we cannot fail. This is a holy task given to us by the Goddess, and the quicker you understand that and the implications of that, the quicker that we can see it done."He pressed her will into the man, feeling it running through his veins, letting him hear an illusion, a representation of the power surging through him as the Goddess made her demands, only so the Knight could understand.

This was paramount. This was their duty as servants before Her.

There was a light in the Knight’s eye, and he bowed his head, and then pulled back. There was no more to be said. Either he would fall in line with the others and serve the one they claimed so faithfully to serve.

The Knight nodded and then left at his dismissal. There was no more to be said. The goddess had communicated her will through him, and even now, he knew his agents were shuffling down in the caverns below. One way or another, he would have that man in his hands and snuff him out on a pyre as tribute to Her. Everything else was inconsequential right now. If it led to war, then so it did. He had his pieces in play so they could claim the Kingdom.

The tournament had gone on too long. The disrespect toward his and the Goddess’ wishes had been too blatant and could no longer be tolerated.

Civil war, he’d said, sometimes for things to be the way they were, one needed to set the whole world on fire to change it for the better. Only then could someone pure of heart and pure of strength to represent the people's will rise from those ashes, and he and his church would be the pillar that would reform this kingdom.

The Cardinal began to call more priests to him, those with the most trusted and sacred missions, as he began to escalate their timelines. He ordered them to get their nobles and congregations to prepare. He hoped that those in the Silver Flames would bow before her will, but if they chose to desert the Goddess, so be it. They did so at their own detriment. They were on a razor's edge now, he knew, one that could no longer continue the way things were.

If Erec continued to cower away in his Academy, then they would act regardless of the consequences.

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Under her power and grace, they could not lose. They would claim this foolish Kingdom and return it once more to their grace. Those on the throne didn't know that the powers they were contending with far dwarfed anything they were capable of, even with their pithy little guests attending this pathetic little excuse for a tournament.

The Cardinal rocked back and forth as the soothing screeches of his mistress echoed in his mind, demanding him to take care of this knight, finish this trash, and rid the world of her sacred flames once more. "I will do it, I will do it, I will do it," he whispered, the pain sweet and the fire’s embrace wonderful.

Soon, things would be set in motion that had been brewing for a long time. If not for this heathen king and his further drift away from the church, they might have had a peaceful coexistence. But when a tool lashed out at the wielder, it had to be reforged in fire.

— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —

Once more, Erec felt the time passing by in the Academy, waiting, unable to go to the tournament, and feeling more and more anxious by the day. His excommunication came with odd looks from the other knights, even within his own Order, who weren't even as closely tied to the church as the silver flames. Sometimes those glances turned to stares and whispers.

An excommunication was not a light thing in the kingdom, as it severely limited your influence and was essentially the Church declaring you a public enemy until you made amends. Considering he had no intent to make amends, it put him in a precarious spot. At the very least, this kind of behavior towards him felt familiar. Try as they might, the social stigma that went along with his excommunication was as comfortable as breathing. Erec never needed people to like him, and couldn’t care less what they thought.

People not talking to him or gossiping about him were things he'd experienced many times in his childhood. When he ate lunch with his friends and they got stares, he ignored them. When he walked down the hall, people went quiet, staring at him, but he ignored that, too. It was easy to do now that he had such a close-knit family in the form of Garin, Olivia, Enide, Colin, and even Colin's betrothed, who seemed to have no problem at all with the fact that he had run afoul of the Church.

Those people kept him sane in times like this, when everyone's judging stares were on him like that of a predator tracking prey, when people's gossip and whispers were harsh words that only made being trapped even worse. But for him, who had experienced this sort of pressure again with his friends now, it was just a reminder of who he was, his roots.

He made time with Bedwyr, his brother, congratulating him on his tournament progress so far, and told him not to worry that he'd been checking in on the Seventh Cavern and ensuring that everything down there was still functioning, even with excommunication. As Grandmaster Oak had promised, they were taking care of his people with excess funds donated by the Kingdom.

Predictably, trade routes had shut down, and businesses refused to do business with Erec and his people until he made amends with the Church. However, due to increased kingdom funding and support against it, that too was going fine.

"It's pathetic," Garin said, leaning over towards Erec as the two clashed with swords in the middle of a garden. They’d taken their training outside today, on the Academy grounds, and the sword had a weird feel in Erec’s hands. But still, at his friends’ request, he’d given it a go. Plus, handicapping himself with a weapon that wasn't the one he was best at was always good practice.In the middle of a fight, if he didn't have his axe, he could make do with whatever there was, and most of the time, there was at least a spare sword nearby somewhere.

Being out here, in the lush green and swinging wooden swords at one another, brought him back to simpler times. Back when they'd been kids and teens, swinging sticks at each other.

"They're using the crown's influence to further decry you and the crown as a corrupt force working together," Garin complained for his sake.

Erec blocked another blow to his head and then spoke. "They're decrying the crown as a corrupt force. I’m just a consequence of that."

"Yes, and the king has issued a public proclamation demanding that the church rescind their words or face taxation and further scrutiny under the eyes of the Crown, which has aggravated the church further. The people are angry either at the overreach of the Church towards their hero or the overreach of the Crown trying to regulate the Church. People are picking sides.”

Garin went in for a swipe that Erec easily dodged aside. Even without using his armor and the ghost therein, his instincts honed from battle and his far superior virtues made it a breeze to step left and right and avoid these sorts of easy, lazy attacks. But Garin knew that. The fight itself wasn't important here. It was the act of talking and enjoying the day, trying to keep his friends sane before the next tournament match.

"So what's the end game then?" Erec said as he swiped once more. His friend had been busy gathering information, and things appeared to be moving fast.

Garin shook his head. "Nothing good. People are starting to stock up on supplies. They're starting to spend less. Even the last couple of days of the tournament have seen a reduced headcount. I think the outsiders can sense that something's going on since the nights at the tournament festivals have been slowing with people keeping careful tabs on us Knights as we filter in and out of the tournament field. They sense something going on."

“Not that they’re in the wrong. If you know this much as an initiate, surely they’re also picking up on it.” Erec replied.

"They are right," Garin admitted. His sword dropped, and the tip touched the dirt, as he lost interest in the fight in the face of talking. It always had been his friend’s preferred sport. "It's just, what's going to be the event that sets it all off and starts the kingdom on fire? I think that's the question in everyone's mind because the inevitable conclusion is that the Church as it is now and the Crown as it's behaving now can't keep going like this. Something has to give.”

Erec nodded. It was a Knight's perspective, and he wasn't sure that those without as much information as he and Garin could see it so quickly. Even if he reminded Garin, he only had an initiate’s perspective. Tension had begun to arise even within the Academy itself. People still pretended like things were fine, going about their days with the Church and Crown-issued proclamations, and bickered back and forth. They deluded themselves that it was just a momentary lapse of two guiding views, and that eventually a peace would be reached.

But the truth was that it couldn't go on for much longer. The tournament was getting closer to an end. After this last game, the final competitors would be reduced to 32, which would be the preliminary duels before the final 16. Of course, Erec had made it, as had Colin and Soren, but the idea of him actually being able to go through with a tournament with all of this chaos was starting to slip through his fingers.

It had been exciting, the idea of fighting people so strong, to test himself against the limits of others of his capability, but now he just felt an anxiety hanging in him, a weight pressing down on him from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to bed, wondering when things would get worse.

He tried to talk his father into retreating to the surface somewhere else, but Lac had denied them, instead continuing about his bio-cavern duties and ignoring both of his sons pleading for him to take a break. Bedwyr, on the other hand, had doubled down on his training even further, trying to hone his mantle before anything happened.

Erec sighed. "I don't know what to do, man," he said to Garin, and his friend shook his head and smiled.

"We just have to live day by day, Erec. There's nothing else we can do. We're already doing as much as we can. You have to remember we're just Knight initiates. We don't get to make the moves. We don't get to set the playing field. We just, for now, are pieces."

"But is that true?" Erec said. "Every choice we make matters. My choice right now is to stay in the academy and try to halt this thing before it escalates too far. Is that my choice? If I went out and got myself into trouble..." He let that dwell for a minute, and then Garin shook his head.

"Trouble's gonna come and find you anyway, man. It has your entire life, and I don't think that will stop now."

Garin paused, and then, as if summoned by his words, they saw a conglomerate of Knights striding towards them from across the lawn. Not Verdant Oak Knights… No, these were wearing silver armor with the insignia of the silver flame on their chests, and they headed straight towards them.

"…Was that magic?” Erec said, trying to joke despite the onset of an overwhelming pressure in his gut, along with the sparks of fury.

Even though they were in armor, they had a certain demeanor. Their silence, their straight-headed manner as they headed right towards the two unarmored initiates in the middle of practice. Erec dropped his wooden sword and then started to back away towards his axe, not too far away. He brought it everywhere now. It just felt safe to be in his hands. Garin backed up similarly, his eyes wide as he reached for his own weapon.

They didn't have their armor…

This was not going to be good.