A Knight's Lilies

“The resiliency and adaptability of the northern folk can be seen even in their strange cuisine and delicacies. One such thing is from Carrador, the ‘Mist’s Blessing’. A small cream and cookie parfait that utilizes local ingredients, oftentimes berries, herbs, and other fruits scavenged from the forest to create a fabulous concoction of different textures, tastes and experiences. A perfect pairing with the equally enjoyable, but far more savoury if strangely named dish ‘Damp Wooden Fowl’ consisting of a gamey bird stuffed with…”

- Paliszeth Versshirms, Veronan Exploration Guild, Chef, Wilderness Explorer, “Feasts and Foods of the Rustic Palate: North Western Edition”

“Secure the perimeter and search the barrows for artifacts and survivors!” The moody looking inquisitor barked.

“Yes my lord!” The silver clad soldiers replied and scattered to search the barrows, the clanking of their armour filling the void where sounds of combat once reigned.

Survivors and other freed prisoners murmured or wept amongst themselves for the fallen, many thanking the blademaster for his timely assistance and leadership.

The Falcon Knight of Carrador stood above Sophie, stoic and unmoving as his charge knelt, listless and almost catatonic over a fallen sabre.

Sophie simply stared at the sabre on the floor, her mind replaying the last moments of the battle over and over. How the portal had opened, how she made a pact and then just like that, Riza was gone. Her stomach churned at the sight of Riza’s eyes, how a moment of surprise overtook the cat until their gazes met. Then, seemingly accepting of whatever lay ahead, how life seemed to fade as she deflated, as Riza consigned herself to oblivion. All because of me, all because I was too weak to do it on my own.

Sophie felt empty and numb. Soaked to the bone, cold and shivering as she knelt over the blade with an ever increasing sense of delirium that snuck is way back in. So many things have happened that frayed her own understanding. The nightmares, the horrors that plagued her mind weren’t just some dark insidious manifestation inside her head, they were real, real and waiting, hungry. The entity too, was more real than she would’ve liked. She didn’t doubt Annalise’s account of the ruins, but she wanted to believe, to hope that perhaps she wasn’t actually affected. But when time ground to a halt, when it imbued her with power and snatched Riza, she could no longer deny the truth, no longer simply try to avoid it. It was there, and it needed to go.

But something else flowed within her veins, something different. It tickled her, like the spark ready to ignite and inferno. The entity’s boon. Strength, but what kind? And at what cost? She stared at the fallen blade, her blade, Wilfred’s blade and a sense of dread filled her heart. She remembered what the explorer and lizard said before, counterparts in the city, elves and guilders. Traitors in plain sight. By the saints, Stellesia if you’re listening, please help the people of Eichafen survive the night. Cold reality smacked her in the face as another torrent of rain buffeted the barrows, the water forming nearby puddles and she grew entranced by the ripples on its surface.

“So…” A stern voice echoed from behind her.

“Inquisitor.” Baylein replied.

“This little one is the one that gave us all so much trouble.” The inquisitor drawled, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Oh really? Finally ready to explain everything?” The knight sighed.

“Perhaps, but only a little.” The inquisitor paused.

For a moment it was quiet, only the echoes of background noise and the clattering of rain around her until a soft splish splash of boot to mud went from behind, to the side and finally the Inquisitor knelt down in front of her. His shadow looming over the blade as she continued staring at it.

“Inquisitor.” Sir Baylein growled menacingly.

“Calm yourself, sir knight.” He said dismissively, “You must pardon my formalities young lady. But you are indeed the young elven maid raised by one Lady Evaline Rosengat?” He spoke to the top of her head.

Sophie only quietly grunted, the moment when Riza was taken playing itself out again. Perhaps if she had pushed the lizard forward, or called for her to duck, the cat would’ve been fine. Or considering how they had only sacrificed one more for the gateway, she should’ve gone for the sorcerers instead, then it would close as it did without the channellers. She found herself a wellspring of emotion, the look Riza shared with her was one she recognised, the same ones that she had when she ranted and cried about her comrades. About their loss and her fears, the sense of loneliness and morbid acceptance. Gone, just like that.

“Your charge, sir knight,” He directed his voice to Baylein, but she felt his eyes bore into the top of her scalp, “Might very well be the key I…we need in understanding the motivations of the…errant cult and why they seemed so intent on disrupting the expedition and the city.”

“Errant cult? This was some errant cult? Bullshit. And might I remind you Sir Inquisitor, your people abandoned the city in its darkest hour.”

“Perhaps so, but you know as well as I do that it was a hopeless situation to begin with. Furthermore, that debate is not for now, not here, Falcon Knight. Surely you can understand the necessity for a bit more privacy given your actions…”

“Don’t bring my past into this, Inquisitor von Krantz.” Sir Baylein lowered his voice threateningly.

“Of course not sir knight…” Sophie could see the inquisitor raise his gloved hands in surrender out of the corner of her eye as the two droned on.

But her mind was present. Ruminating on her callous decision making. She had so readily sacrificed the innocent to try and save Riza, to so quickly consign a dozen odd souls to such a horrific fate just to fail. Just to watch everything get wrenched asunder at the last moment and to lose even those that placed their trust in her. It was a sobering thought only echoed by the scariest question of all, what would Eva think of me now? Would she blame me? Hate me? Would she understand? And Annalise! By the saints is she alright? Another wad of guilt filled her, they had left her behind and though she suspected the resilient ranger was still alright, to leave someone and a bunch of horses along in the Mistveil pained her. Riza was, if the sorcerers spoke the truth, the last remnant of Eichafen they shared, and now even that was gone and likely the city too.

Then came the breaking point. As her mind traveled back she remembered the moment she first laid eyes on the cat’s pleading gaze, of how she had watched as the poor girl’s party was essentially slaughtered and sacrificed in front of her. Of how Sophie had simply watched until the last moment, only swooping in when all was already lost. Of how she had failed her friend and despite Riza seeing her as a savior later on, she knew deep down she never was. That it was all just a way for the poor girl to cope. And now she had failed her again, perhaps dooming her to a fate worse than death as she was pulled through the gateway, a sacrifice for some pointless spark of power. And I was too weak to stop it, too weak to fight of my own captors. Knowing that, Sophie shuddered and broke down. She clenched mouth shut, determined to pull herself together. But the water that ran down her face was no longer rain, tears poured forth and she quietly sobbed amidst all the carnage around her.

Despite seeing a gloved hand waving to get her attention and the shuffling of feet around her. She could only blink rapidly as the tears continued to fall. Her chest heaved from the exhaustion, her breath ran ragged as she fought for composure. The pain, the exertion, the injuries from battle and the motion sickness all came flowing back to the surface as the post battle adrenaline finally faded. Her body became wracked with pain as the knots inside her stomach and chest tightened. A pounding headache finally let loose within her as the jabbering of voices beside her beckoning for attention and mental duress grew maddeningly loud.

She pushed her arms together and squeezed her ears with a vice grip. Hoping to drown out the noise and as the thuds inside her head grew louder, she clawed at her face and broke down. With a loud wail, she slammed herself against the muddy ground and cried out loud. Ignoring the stunned reactions around her she let loose her woes and curled up into a ball, rocking back and forth, covering her soaked garments in a muddy sludge. Hoping that perhaps her suffering could wipe away the pain.

The malevolent beam of energy dissipated, allowing the storm to close in once again. Annalise and the rest of the inquisitorial team breathed a sigh of relief. Scooting herself closer to the fire she felt her muscles slacken as the pressure that sustained her for the whole day finally dissipated. But as she collapsed onto the damp ground near the fire she could feel a tickling sensation within her nose. Aww…

“Achoo!” She sneezed out loud, startling the dozen odd templars and inquisitorial staff in the camp.

An awkward silence echoed throughout the ruins and Annalise felt her face redden. By the saints. She cursed and then the templars began laughing out loud. Closing her eyes she let herself lay flat and endured the laughter, a flicker of mischievousness as she allowed herself a small slide.

But the moment did not last long and as the rest of the troop quickly descended back to idle speculation and talk, an idea sprang up into her mind that deflated her mood.

“Hey!” She exclaimed idly hoping for someone to answer, but her fingers were already crossed.

“Yeah adventurer? What is it?” An armoured figure answered.

Steeling herself she asked.

“How…how is Eichafen?”

It was as if she had just smashed a baby with a rock, everyone near the fire quieted out at once and only the crackling of the flames and the heavy tapping of the rain disturbed the silence. Curious soldiers further away murmured quietly as they noticed the main group had suddenly descended into silence. Annalise swallowed her words and prodded once more.

“So? How does it fare?” But the silence was telling enough and she bit down on her lip, digging her hands into soil.

Another silence carried and this time she could hear the clanks as they looked amongst themselves before the same voice answered.

“It’s gone…I’m sorry.” Came the sorrowful reply, tinged with a hint of guilt.

Annalise grabbed a handful of mud and dirt, chucking it above herself as she felt some land back on her as other bits flew into the flames, the faint crackles giving it away. She sighed as she felt her shoulders sink back into the dirt. Damn.

“Look if there’s anything…” The man began but she interrupted.

“Do you know how?”

“Pardon?”

“How it fell.” She asked and she could hear his boots shuffle nervously in the mud, his armour clanking as he turned to look at his comrades. Even with her eyes closed she knew she wouldn’t like this answer. And there was the question of why he sounded guilty.

“It..it..umm.”

“It’s alright, you can tell her.” A more mature voice chimed in, commanding officer? Squad leader?

The first man sighed and she braced herself.

“We…we suspect…know there were traitors within the city. If the attack only came from the outside…”

“Then it could’ve held.” Annalise whispered quietly. After all, Eichafen was a bastion city, a fortress in which the breadth of Northern Carrador could shelter against all manner of external foes. This was a city serving not just as a beacon of civilization, but also as a military command hub and staging ground in the event of an invasion.

She could hear the soft clinks of the armour, the man was nodding along, but something didn’t add up.

“Then why are you here?”

The tension cut through the camp like a blade and her eyes flickered open, staring at the roof of the tent.

“That’s because we…” The man began.

“That’s because it’s a question for the inquisitor to answer, check yourself templar.” The officer interrupted. “You’re relieved from prisoner duty, head to augment the sentries and recite the litany of inner control. You are lacking in your ability to differentiate when to speak, and when to wait for a superior officer.”

“Yes sir! Sorry sir!” The first man bowed riggedly,

“Now, dismissed. And be blessed by the stars.”

“Blessed by the stars.” The templar echoed and reluctantly walked into the rain and towards the other guards.

Annalise sat back up and watched as the man trudged away, the other onlookers and soldiers filtering back to their posts.

“You can direct your inquiries to me. Young adventurer.” The officer spoke with venom and Annalise sized him up.

He was almost identical to the other templar in their silver gray plate mail armour, barring the fact that unlike them, leather faulds dyed red and blue with symbols of the church sewn on hung from his waist like a skirt. Damn, she grumbled, I doubt he’s gonna give me the answers I need.

“Did I hear you say prisoner duty?” She asked, the phrase having caught her attention.

“That’s correct.”

“But then…”

“You’re the prisoner.”

“What?! But didn’t you guys come to help? I mean why are you here then consider you…”

“Eichafen was betrayed from within. Your people.”

That caught her off guard, “What do you mean by ‘your people?’”

“Adventurers.”

“Huh?”

“Adventurer's betrayed Eichafen.” He growled.

“What…?” Annalise murmured, now that was unexpected. What does he mean? And is it true? First the exploration direktor here and now the guild?

“Defenders at the main gate, stabbed in the back.” He finished, seemingly satisfied by her bewildered expression.

Annalise furrowed her brow and frowned, running through her memories as she tried to recall their marching orders. We went to the ruins, most were in the town squares or in the guild hall, that leaves…The Crows…Markus, the bastard. A fury boiled within her at the thought, were they not comrades? And The Crows were a gold ranked team at that, their skills would’ve been invaluable on the defence, and should they turn against the defenders at a critical time then of course the main gate would fall. She chewed her knuckle as she tried imagine what had happened.

It still didn’t make sense, they could’ve pushed far, but the amount of town guards and proper Carradorian soldiers mixed with adventurers should have held. No, something else must have happened. Just losing the main gate would be disastrous but not enough to bring the city to its knees. She gasped, the riders he met back at Rumhol, I thought they looked strange but what if...

“I take it, you know something?” The officer interrupted her thoughts and she spun around to meet the man.

“What do you mean?” She tried to sheepishly deny.

“That expression, it's the same one the rookies use when they think they find a loophole. So?”

Annalise bit down on her lip for a moment, weighing her options before she spoke again.

“The guys who betrayed the main gate, I think I know who they are.” She stated, hoping for the man to react.

“Oh?” He tried to nonchalantly say, but Annalise saw the tilting of his visor, his head raising slightly as his interest was piqued.

“The ones at the gate were gold ranked adventurers, The Crows. They’re led by Markus Horsch, real professional type, also gold ranked.”

She watched as the man dropped his pose and adopted a more contemplative post, but as he seemed set to respond another voice interrupted their cooperation.

“Movement! Northern Treeline!” A sentry shouted and all the templars scrambled to battle stations.

“Stay here girlie.” The officer yelled, and Annalise jumped to her feet. Only to immediately fall over as the missing leg proved to be a necessary factor for balance.

Wincing in pain she crawled around until she finally reached her chair, picking up the bow off the ground as she leaned solemnly against the seat, facing the entrance as he back faced the flames. Stupid stump, stupid leg, gah! It’s gonna really suck just having one huh? She cursed to herself and grabbed an arrow from the quiver, running her fingers over the smooth shaft. At least I can still shoot.

“As the stars do shine!” The sentry standing on the ruined wall shouted into the forest.

The rain and crackling were the only things Annalise could hear once again as she held her breath.

“May they shine radiantly eternal!” Came a throaty reply.

At once she could see the guards seem to relax and a few even pumped their fists. And so the company returns, hopefully with good news.

When the lead elements of the inquisitorial force had found her she was nervous and alone, in her panic she had almost shot one of them until they began speaking and addressed her. A brim hatted man then strode forward and announced himself as a lead inquisitor or whatever and that they sought to help out her elven friend. Wary and suspicious, she tried inquiring about their purpose but he had deflected her questions until he confirmed he was the one who dispatched the minotaur to aid them. Still doubtful, Annalise had tried to dig up what she could until the rest of the platoon arrived and she quietly stifled her doubts and pointed them to Sophie and the others. There was no way she could fight one or even two templars in her state, let alone the entire gaggle of them. In response the inquisitor had sent her back with a few escorts to prepare camp, and that was the last she saw of the stone-faced inquisitor. Until now.

It was perhaps, the almost endless procession that seemed the most bewildering, aside from a multitude of silver forms, a great many civilians too seemed mixed in. Their ragged appearances with ripped clothing, bloodstains and all suggested these were not people who were here willing, and certainly she didn’t remember seeing them when they first arrived.

At the head of the arrivals was the black clad inquisitor, a sense of malice and disappointment radiating from his presence. Beside him the minotaur, clad in his own leather armor and with a metal chest-plate, but no sign of Sir Baylein or Sophie.

“Prepare the infirmary, light injuries for the templars but multiple wounded, some critical for the civilians.” He barked.

“Yes my lord!” The soldier snappily saluted and she could see the flurry of activity as every element of the church camp burst into work like a finely tuned team. Templars filtered themselves out as they dispersed throughout the camp as others quickly herded the civilians into other tented areas in hopes of sparing them from the rain.

“Blademaster Taurox, take a squad and quickly set up heavy patrols around the perimeter.”

The minotaur nodded at the inquisitor and Annalise watched as he simply gestured, and like cogs, the officer she spoke with and a few men silently fell in step with the minotaur, heading beyond the ruin walls to patrol in the rain.

“Medicae! Where is the infirmary?” The inquisitor bellowed once more.

Amongst the chaos as he sought to shuffle the civilians that needed treatment into a tent, she spotted the last few people. Sir Baylein moved carefully as he supported Sophie with the last three templars in reserve cautiously guarding their rear until they were inside the ruin. She wanted to run excitedly to welcome her friend but paused as she realised she couldn’t run. Despondent, her mood plummeted further when she noticed the blank look on Sophie’s face and how battered the poor girl looked. Scanning the crowd one more time, she couldn’t find a sign of Riza either. Slumping back onto the ground and closing her eyes, as a sense of despair and tiredness took hold. Ahh…fuck. Just when it couldn’t get worse.