Knights Apocalyptica

Down into the darkness.

We dive down into that dark rift.

Within it, they say, we find our freedom.

But what about the world we’ve left behind?

-Jon Silas, Scrap Paper found in the Endless Cave (3rd Era, 21)

Erec stood in line with countless other Initiates. The wind was cold, and he wore a warmer jacket issued to the Knights of the Verdant Order to compensate; the Initiates were only the first line. Divided evenly into their four groups.

Ahead of them were other lines—Knight Errants, Knight Protectors, Knight Lieutenants—all the way to the Four Grandmasters themselves, who did not sit at the head of their respective divisions but rather were gathered in front of the open gateway to the Kingdom of Cindrus.

The Knights were one of several groups—a vast swath of nobility and the Army—all of them arranged and determined in preselected places by the King himself as a show of his force. Of his Kingdom.

Not that all the Knights were here. Nor military. Some people were running vital jobs; some of the higher-ranked Knights and military personnel were even now on the other side of the giant steel curtain, ushering their guests into order.

The first official day of the tournament’s start. Ten days of festivities as people arrived—those who had not arrived early—to greet and welcome their new future allies into the fold and embrace a spirit of friendly competition. It also gave practical time for their new arrivals to sign up for their chosen games and conduct all of the various events. After the ten days, the tournament proper would begin, though not with the main tourney, but rather, the smaller games leading up to the grand event.

As a premier and historic event…

Well, it felt like a third of the caverns below cleared out and made their way to the surface for a good look at who would be coming. Every noble who called themselves a noble had arrived—the entirety of the King’s courts, every servant who could talk their Lord or Lady into letting them witness… And a fair few commoners who had made the special trek all the way up here for perhaps the first time in their lives just to witness the occasion.

Erec tucked his hands in his pockets, the chill creeping into his bones and making his skin tingly; he tried to look through the crowd to see the cars of the Pendragons inside and, therefore, Enide somewhere in there. No luck, though; she was hidden away deep in those crowds.

“Ten days before I can begin to wipe that smug expression off that spoiled prince’s face,” Colin sneered next to him, his hate-filled eyes on the royal family. Soren, specifically, stood next to his father with the other princes.

“Careful, you get too obsessed, and you’re not going to do very well. You have to focus on the enemy in front of you.” Garin warned.

“I am in peak form. Never have I been stronger. In this state, I could even take down the rust-bucket.”

Erec snorted and shook his head, “How are you so sure that you’ll get the chance? He keeps trying to call me out, and I’ll let him have it if I get to it first.”

“It is fate that he falls by my hands. That much I think we can agree.”

Erec let it drop, rolled his shoulders, and shared a look with Garin. Seeing their friend so obsessed had both been entertaining and vexing. Out of anything, Colin chose to label another person as ‘spoiled’ and needed an attitude adjustment, which was quite the turn of events. But hey, if it got him up and going, then so be it.

Then, there was an amplified trumpet sound—some mysticism being flung to enhance the noise, and it was the cue for the event to go.

The first group began to filter in from the waste, a group of about thirty men and women. These people weren’t too dissimilar from the Pendragons—they looked hard, with worn clothes, guns, and sun-ripened faces. The most distinctive feature about them, though, was that each of them wore some kind of paint on their faces—reminding Erec of various animals he’d seen in books. They eyed the army arrayed around them with curious and cautious eyes; then, before the King and the Grandmasters, they stopped.

There was a shaking of hands, and then a Knight peeled off from their ranks to escort the first set of people to the newly constructed buildings that would house their guests for the next two months.

Most of this was purely for show, Erec knew. As soon as the tournament arrived, they’d been receiving outsiders, and those outsiders from new groups had already been escorted inside of their walls, introduced to the king, and then occasionally preemptively greeted and made contact with the nobility for future plans.

He saw red priests on the sidelines and mingled among the common folk, none of which looked too happy.

The next group inside was expected. People from Vega—you could tell from the flashy clothes and the escort of Magi within; he even made out some of the Arch-Magi in the group, who’d tagged along to see the Kingdom from their dessert city—the one who had a pompadour took particularly long in his time talking to the king, accompanied by the old guy with the long white beard. Given all of the already existing ties to Vega as a result of their expedition, these people weren’t unexpected.

Overall, they brought hundreds out of such a massive city, but there were still many people to transport across the waste. With the Arch-Magi, it wasn’t too dissimilar to having someone like Grandmaster Oak waltz them across the deadly lands.

Erec was sure they were well-equipped to handle anything that came their way.

Next came the nomads—collectively, that’s what he’d heard Enide refer to them as. Wanderers and other groups like the Pendragons broke apart and traveled in packs together for safety and exploration.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Their sizes varied, but generally, the representatives of these groups were smaller. Coming in one by one, in a grand procession.

Each had their time to greet the king publicly, and all of it was one grand statement from the Crown. ‘We have opened the walls. See as those outside come and greet our mighty king.’

And think, too, nobles, of which groups catch their eyes and for them to take an interest in.

All of the groups were split into parts, though—leaders, deal-makers, gawkers, and the actual warriors. Warriors and leaders were easy to split out based on how they carried themselves. Erec got a sense of general strength when he looked at some of the young, proud Magi from Vega—or a bruiser or two from one of the casinos there who fancied themselves one of their city's best and brightest.

Those, those people Erec flagged as warriors, were the ones he paid the most attention to. Wondering from a glance just how strong they were. Some came in the shape of a similar style to Boldwick or the Master Knights—wizened fighters who had likely spent their whole life in conflict. What had they learned out there in the waste?

What could he learn from seeing them fighting?

His blood burned every time the thought crossed his mind, and excitement to see their steel tested. But they paled in comparison to the other warrior that caught his attention.

Those around his age. People who fought on a level near him. Whoever these groups sent to compete—it would be the best of their best. Were these warriors like him? As strong as him?

Erec wanted to dash out of line right now and challenge some of them to a fight, just to see and witness where they lay, to let his fires burn bright as they faced off against one another. There was no greater purity to life than to see such action play out on a battlefield.

Yet he didn’t. Playing the good part of a Knight. Refined in line. A statue and decoration for the King.

Time wore away, the sun became bright in the sky, and the coldness evaporated just a bit more. Hours of this, some of the nobility had sent their servants for chairs or to carry shades.

Small little blankets were thrown down on the soil, and picnic baskets were erected as they feasted, not only limited to the upper class. The common people had settled down for their show, and the general buzz of excitement was palpable…

But, if you talked too much in your row as a Knight, someone would yell at you. Erec’s job was to look tough. To observe. They were the disciplined force the King used to show their arranged military might. The stick to the carrot that opened the wall was.

The various nomad groups turned to more… Interesting parties.

One of which wore dusty-colored shirts with various tan blobs and an old-world style flag on their chests. These people moved in a cohesive unit—the leader of which had a tan duster, a pistol, and some kind of sword.

[US Army?] VAL asked.

No.

They arranged themselves in the most disciplined manner he’d seen yet, and their greeting to the King was the most brief. After that, they went off.

Next came another group he wasn’t familiar with. They wore deep reds, not unlike the priests, with chains hanging off their necks and masks. The leader removed it to speak to their King, and they spoke at great length—even from here, Erec saw a bright and warm smile on the man's face as they bid each other hello.

Then, they were off.

Another group, these ones flashing fancy tech and black-colored clothes, the most mysterious of the bunch…

Tribes—for lack of a better term, too. There were a bunch of smaller groups like this, living out in caves near Vega. Sometimes, they got absorbed into Vega proper for safety and security and kept to their own tight-knit communities within the great city, marked by a general demeanor and an odd assortment of symbols or clothes to represent whatever particular flavor of belief and community they represented. Smaller groups.

Then came the individuals, the last of all, to enter the walls. A collective total of hundreds of random waste-wanderers who’d heard stories and then chosen to compete. These people didn’t have a strict representative, so the King greeted them collectively and escorted them to their housing.

After nine hours of ceremony and honoring their new allies, the grand start to the tournament ended.

Erec sighed and looked at his two friends; Garin was positively glowing and beaming with delight at all the new people he was undoubtedly looking forward to meeting. Colin, meanwhile, looked annoyed and bored by the whole affair. Since their roles were intimidation statutes… Yeah, it was fair.

“You have my thanks for coming to witness such a historic moment. Since the event of my grandfather’s grandfather—we have not had such a chance to so fully embrace the world which is outside our walls. We have long been in the dark, unaware that life continued outward. Take this as a sign that not only are we not alone in this world, but that there are others, ready and willing to embrace the fight for humanity against the monsters that dwell outside of all of our walls,” The King’s voice radiated outward under the effects of some spell-work, and then he clapped his hands.

It was accompanied by another amplified trumpet—the signal that the ceremony was at an end. Knights began to bark out orders, and the Verdant Oak, along with the rest of the initiates, was marched in a steady yet controlled manner back to the Academy; they left the citizens and nobles to their own devices.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. The military was there to keep order.

But, for the Knights, their place in the show for the ceremony was complete, and for the Initiates specifically, it was time for them to return to the Academy and make preparations; training had ramped up since the return in Yule. Three-fourths of the Knights in the Academy had enrolled in the tournament with heavy encouragement from their Orders.

At all levels of this thing, the King wanted a grand showing from his people.

So, as the group marched slowly back through the farmlands and the greenery that was starting to come back to their little patch of dirt that the walls sealed in, Erec expected the ceremony to be the highlight of his day and to hone down and get back into renewed training… After all, he had about three classes rescheduled for the afternoon.

Instead, after everyone had returned to the Academy and were dismissed back to their dormitories by a Knight Commander, he, Garin, and Colin found a note pinned to their door.

It contained instructions to Boldwick. They were to immediately don their Armor, gather weapons, and meet the Master Knight outside of the Academy building. Their absences in the afternoon classes were forgiven, and they were being called to undergo ‘special training.’

Sparks ran through Erec as he reread the note, a smile on his face.

Maybe they would undergo another harsh training session—a way to gain power quickly. Maybe in the light of seeing the groups enter with his own eyes, the Master Knight thought they needed a little more. It both terrified and delighted him. In fact, just watching those people enter had gotten him revved up. Unable to help but wonder just how powerful they were.