Out of Darkness, Part 2

It was almost impossible to look at Roland given how much time Aveline had spent in the gloom. His radiance drove back the dark. Aveline’s eyes took time to adjust and after an impatient moment of waiting, she managed to look at the figure. The strange circumstances aside, she had never been so pleased to see her father.

“Hello, Aveline. It’s been… too long.” Roland’s voice sounded hollow and far away. As if heard across the distance of a lake, it lacked the forceful warmth with which Aveline had once been so familiar. The apparition returned her smile with his lips, but his eyes were impassive and expressionless. The Knight worried her father’s appearance was some new torment, specially crafted by Ixiel to magnify her suffering.

Roland towered over Aveline, and though he carried himself with his usual confidence, she could see his once resplendent armor was battered and torn in places. He looked tired, worn out. But here, in her lowest moment of shame, she wanted nothing more than to impress him and hide her failure. She struggled to maintain her smile and match Roland’s presence, but as the shock of his appearance subsided, she found her elation crumbling to embarrassment. A thousand questions raced through Aveline’s head. It was difficult to start.

“How is this possible?” Aveline moved closer to Roland and held out a hand. Roland grasped it firmly. Tears welled in Aveline’s eyes. The Knight struggled to regain her composure. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. “Seeing you here, I can hardly believe it. Your presence revives me.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Years of wandering this soul trap fearing the worst, and I finally find you healthy and whole. A welcome surprise. ” Roland’s grin expanded across his face and he chuckled. “Thanks to an excellent teacher, no doubt.”

“I don’t understand. So much has happened. Ixiel, the crystals, Aurleon…” Aveline stepped away from Roland and turned her back to him. She looked at the few soldiers who still remained, huddled together in the dark. They seemed on the brink of madness. A cold weight pressed down on the Knight’s heart. She knew she may soon be alone in this place. “I’ve failed, Roland.” She admitted this with a forlorn sigh of frustration.

“Where did you go? Why did you leave us? Leave me?” Aveline’s voice wavered with accusation.

“I know the hardships you’ve suffered. I’m sorry.” The Great Knight Roland stepped behind Aveline and touched her shoulder. His smile disappeared, his voice lowered almost to a whisper. “There is much you must know. Much still left to do. Please, let’s sit and talk like we used to.” He gestured to the obsidian floor and crossed his legs as he sat. Aveline looked again at her withering comrades. For their sake, she hoped this was not some foul deception. Trembling fingers wiped water away from her weary eyes. She would shed no tears in front of this man. The Knight turned and lowered to the floor within striking distance of the apparition. Durendal, unsheathed and ready, lay close by her side.

The two sat in silence for a time, before Roland finally began. “I see my sword has served you well.”

Aveline reached out and touched Durendal’s hilt. “How do I know you are who you appear to be?”

Roland thought for a moment. “Soon after I became your guardian, you woke me late one night. I swatted you away, exhausted by the day. Before long, you returned, and told me you couldn’t remember the faces of your father and mother. I looked into your bloodshot eyes. You were too young to be so racked with torment and guilt. I was a knight, not a parent. But I searched desperately for the right words and settled on these: ‘Aveline, time has made memories of many, but you won’t be one of them. Wherever you go, I will always be with you.’ I hugged you then. I’d never had cause to hug anyone before.” Roland paused, chuckled, and added, “And, well, here I am.”

Aveline lowered her head, as if meditating on his words. She wondered then if this were her own madness given shape, but shook her head and dismissed the thought, caught up for the moment in the memory of a time long past. Fingers crossed in front of her, she looked at Roland. A somber smile lifted her lips. “Tell me everything.” 

Out of Darkness, Part 1

The Knight Aveline sat alone in the void. A vast plane of darkness stretched out endlessly on every side. Within that darkness, Aveline could hear the cries and lamentations of all those soldiers imprisoned within the black stones of Ixiel.

They had failed. She had failed. And together they had been exiled to a listless fate, cast into the gloom to waste away. From this prison, there appeared to be no escape.

Whatever hope Aurleon had bid the Knight in his final moments, it had been in vain. To think of the King and his death racked Aveline with guilt. She wanted to say something to those who suffered in the dark with her, but bold words would not come. She thought of her pledge to the army, before their assault on Ixiel’s stronghold. Blind arrogance had doomed them all and it seemed that the Archwizard was right. The Azure Knight was not worthy of legend. Despondent and silent, she closed her eyes and pulled her legs to her chest. The magic sword, Durendal, lay abandoned beside her.

After a time, Aveline felt a cold, burning sensation on the back of her left hand. She opened her eyes, and to her surprise, was able to see a soft glow emanating from beneath her gauntlet. She removed the armor, then her glove, and gasped. There, emblazoned on her skin, was the same sigil the once immortal King Aurleon had brandished on his hand. The demonic symbol glowed brightly in the darkness.

For those who held onto their sanity, Aveline became a beacon, a keeper of the light. Her sigil lit the darkness and restored some small measure of hope. Like moths, the weary soldiers gathered around and pressed together in the dark. When one would succumb to depression and leave the circle to sit alone, others would move in close, all to find a way to the light. They swapped stories of times gone by, of those who had departed. Despite her guilt, she resolved to lead them for as long as she could. She hoped her fortitude would give them strength.

“Don’t be afraid,” she said. The demonic brand pulsed red, illuminating the faces of those nearest to her. She struggled to find the words of encouragement, but again she came up short. Optimism seemed disingenuous in the oppressive vastness of the void. The best she could offer was a respite from fear.

But the soldiers’ spirits were broken. Whatever magic made this prison, it altered the natural flow of things and suspended the reign of time. Men need not eat, but wasted away all the same. Some lost their sanity and disappeared raving into the dark, while many others simply expired, waiting for their time to run out. All semblance of hope having fled, their bodies withered. Only Aveline remained young and strong, as fixed a pillar of outward fortitude as she had been when first confined.

An immeasurable stretch of time passed. The number of survivors began to dwindle and with their sanity, the bonds of fellowship slowly evaporated. Their fleeting victory against the shadow beast of Aurleon faded in their memory. None called the man “King.” All that remained was the bitter disappointment of defeat and wild speculation over the fate of Valerius, the land they’d loved. With the combined forces of Valerius defeated, what would become of the people? Who would oppose Ixiel and his foul scheme? The soldiers cursed themselves, cursed Ixiel, cursed the gods and even sometimes cursed the Knight Aveline.

Soon, only a handful of soldiers remained. They had been the most stalwart in life, among the Knight’s most trusted and reliable warriors. A solemn calm had descended on them all as they waited to disappear. Aveline wondered what would become of her once the last had withered away and she was left alone.

Out of the darkness, an incandescent figure bathed in white light appeared, only steps away from Aveline. Its armor resembled her own, but the man was unarmed. The tall man exuded confidence and were it not for the harsh light, his presence may have been reassuring. Despite their courage, the remaining soldiers were frightened and withdrew, their mouths agape. Having seen abominable horrors, they expected the worst.

The Knight Aveline stood and replaced her gauntlet. For the first time in a very long time, she smiled.

“Hello, father.”

A Knight's Resolve, Part 5

The Knight’s soldiers awaited her command, but with the King’s astonishing appearance, she knew not how to proceed. The fate of Valerius depended on her next actions.

“You think you can win through strength of arms... But the truth is you are alone in the dark, powerless. Nothing more than a weak, frightened child playing at heroics.” Ixiel sneered in seething rage and pointed at Aveline. “Humanity is but fuel for the fire that will cast my lord’s endless shadow over this land. And you, little bird, will burn brightest of all.”

The vile sorcerer threw his cloak back over his shoulders. Glowing symbols covered his bare body. Ixiel uttered another hollow laugh, then joined his palms and set to muttering a spell. Aurleon stepped back from his master with a horrified look on his face.

Ixiel’s chants grew more fervent as he filled the air with the otherworldly language of demons and his body was suffused with light. Looming behind him, a mass of swirling shadow gathered in a titanic form, even larger than the gloom beast of Aurleon. Whatever the sorcerer planned, Aveline was certain it would be beyond her army’s ability to combat. The Knight knew the moment to strike was upon her.

Aveline crouched low, then launched forward. With all of the speed she could muster, she ran at Ixiel. Her blue cloak flapped and her blade thrust ahead, as straight as her will was resolved. Those soldiers nearest her cheered. The Knight would spare her people whatever cruel fate the Archwizard planned, even if victory meant her death. Aveline thought of her father and shouted with ferocity as each step brought her closer to her enemy.

But history is so rarely forged by the righteous.

As the Knight Aveline moved within striking distance, she pushed her magic sword forward and focused on her target, determined to strike a single, decisive blow. In a flash, Aurleon appeared between her and Ixiel. With no time to stop, the brave Knight’s blade pierced the King’s chest, its sharp edge stabbing deep into unprotected flesh and through his back.

Horrified, Aveline halted her attack and withdrew Durendal. Blood poured from the grievous wound. A wide grin spread across Ixiel’s face as he continued to recite his spell and his eyes shimmered with a sickening ruby gleam. The traitorous King Aurleon gasped, then fell to his knees, clutching his chest. For the second time, he had been cut down. The Knight was overwhelmed by disbelief.

At the same moment, a wave of screams exploded from outside the cavern, louder and more frantic than any Aveline had ever heard. The Knight spun away from Aurleon and Ixiel to assess the situation behind, but she could not see beyond the gathered soldiers. When Aveline looked to the army she had blindly led here, she saw dread and despondency on even the most hardened faces.

From the unseen fray, individual voices were extinguished as suddenly as they had been raised. The cries of tormented souls became disturbingly quiet. Aveline commanded her forces to retreat, but it was too late. Any semblance of martial discipline evaporated. Through the chaotic escape attempts, she saw a wall of darkness consuming her forces. Before long, the true terror of the Archwizard’s plot was made clear.

As the Knight watched, each of her soldiers was consumed by obsidian. Black crystals of shadow grew from the floor and creeped upward until the struggling victims’ bodies were encased. Smooth, soundless blocks glowed where brave warriors had stood but seconds before. Aveline realized the fate of the city’s inhabitants, and the disastrous fate of humanity should she fail here. This had been a trap all along. She turned back toward Ixiel, intent on slaying the fiend.

But before the Knight could take a step, her feet were frozen in place by the shadows. Within moments, cold darkness began to spread up her legs. Aveline was aghast. Her enchanted armor slowed the obsidian’s progress, and Durendal destroyed what it could, but the spell was impossible to stop. She desperately searched her memories and experience for an answer. Against all hope, she called to the bleeding King at her feet.

“My King! I beg you, stand and stop this madness!”

Aurleon spat a mouthful of blood, but brought one knee up, and then the other. Amidst the tempest, he rose with a quiet composure, the symbol on his hand glowing brightly. His tear-filled eyes finally met Aveline’s. “I am sorry, my Knight. What little hope I had has died. I thought your sacrifice would mean salvation. But the scourge of Tyrannus is upon us and I have failed you. How can men stand against such power?” Behind him, Ixiel was immersed in darkness, cackling. Aurleon looked at the sigil on his hand, then back at Aveline. Her grime-covered face was streaked with tears.

“But perhaps there is still a way.” Aurleon held his hand out to Aveline. The Knight clutched it desperately as the obsidian grew around her waist. The blood-covered King closed his eyes and began to speak in the demon’s tongue. “Sigillum aeternitatis tibi assigno. Tuum fatum daemon, Tyrannus, adligatur aeternaliter. Dum ardet, simul scintilla animae ardebit.” The symbol on his hand exploded in light and disappeared.

Aurleon opened his eyes and looked again at the Knight. “Our hopes go with you.” He smiled, then collapsed. The King was dead.

Aveline had no words and little hope. The Knight clenched her fist tight around her sword as the void washed over her...

A Knight's Resolve, Part 4

The Knight was stunned by the sight before her as the last remnants of the shadow beast faded into darkness. Obsidian armor cracked and shattered and homeless spears clattered to the floor. King Aurleon, once so youthful and radiant, now lay bloodied and unconscious. The bright white robes he first adorned as a symbol of hope were grey and tattered, the ruined clothes draped on his body like a shroud.

Confused by the mysterious appearance of the leader for whom she had tirelessly fought, Aveline could not be certain her eyes were not deceived. Her heart, already pounding with the exertion and tumult of battle, managed to beat even faster in her chest. This man had charged her with the safety of the kingdom! She tore her gaze away from the King to gauge the reactions of her comrades.

Around her, each face was twisted in an expression of exhaustion and disbelief. Crestfallen thoughts of betrayal already brewed in the minds of those who still stood. The loud cries of the wounded and quiet ministrations of the healers suffused the scene with boiling tension. With sword still in hand, the Knight bid the disquieted soldiers stand guard as she approached the fallen monarch. Her forceful words shook the men from their reverie.

When she drew near Aveline could see the young man’s eyes frantically swiveling beneath closed lids. Unkempt hair lay plastered to a furrowed brow, covered in sweat. Shallow, ragged breaths quickly issued forth from his cracked lips. Countless wounds covered his body and blood seeped through the shreds of his red-stained raiment. Despite her youth, the Knight had seen many grisly conflicts and many dying men. Never had she seen one survive so many injuries.

But even more curious, Aveline noticed an ornate, glowing symbol on the back of Aurleon’s hand. Its peculiar design called to her and she reached out to touch it. At that moment, a shard of obsidian darted through the air and stabbed into Aurleon’s hand. Blood flowed from the fresh wound. The young king’s eyes shot open and he screamed in pain. A strange voice pierced the black abyss of the chamber and shocked all who could hear it.

“That’s enough, little bird.”

Ixiel stepped out of the gloom. The Archwizard wore a tattered black cloak over a body covered in glowing symbols. Arms outstretched, eyes blazing, he strolled casually toward Aveline and her remaining army. The body of Aurleon writhed on the floor between them. The Knight leapt back and brought her sword to bear. With the goal of her quest in sight, Aveline’s palms began to sweat inside her gauntlets. She could hear the rustle of arms and armor as her men made ready to attack. All of them could sense Ixiel’s shadowy aura, even more dangerous and oppressive than that of the vanquished beast.

“Look at you, ‘the Azure Knight.’ Having played the hero so valiantly, I suspect you almost believe your own legend. These here certainly do.” Ixiel dismissively gestured toward Aveline’s comrades. The soldiers grimaced and looked to Aveline for guidance. But anticipating an attack at any moment, the Knight stood transfixed, every muscle taught and ready to react. Her jaw ached, her eyes strained. Aveline felt a cold fear creep out from her heart to smother her will. She knew she was outmatched.

When finally near Aurleon’s body, Ixiel stopped and looked down at the broken form. As the Archwizard spoke, his voice shifted in the air then evaporated like smoke. “I commend you on disabling my student. But don’t fret little bird.” At this, he laughed. The sound was hollow and stilted. “Your treasonous King will rise again.” Aurleon’s eyes opened and within seconds, the silent King stood beside his ally. The strange crest on the back of his hand glowed intensely.

“To have your quest end here in ruin is such a shame. But then, you were never meant to lead. Where is your father? Where is the Great Knight Roland? I would love to have made his acquaintance.” Ixiel sneered. “But it seems he has abandoned you, with little more than that shining trinket and blind faith in this one’s empty promises.”

The Archwizard cocked his head toward Aurleon, who seemed to have regained his composure and abided the insults with downcast eyes. Aveline was astounded at the young King’s recovery. Only the bloodied shreds of his once elegant robes indicated he had suffered any injury in their battle.

The Knight grit her teeth, ignored Ixiel, and addressed Aurleon directly. “My King, on your honor and for the sake of all those who died for your dream, I bid you speak. Please dispel this fiend’s madness.” The King could not bring his gaze to match that of the Knight’s. “Please, my lord. My friend.” Aurleon remained silent. Aveline prepared to attack.

Ixiel stepped in front of his young pawn, his entire body now emanating some dark energy. “Young Aveline, I am not without sympathy. You are brave and bold and skilled – a beautiful flower on the field of battle. In honor of your pedigree, I will make you an offer.” The evil Archwizard held the bony claw of his hand out to Aveline. “Pledge loyalty to the demon, Tyrannus, and become my wife. Do so, and your soldiers will live. Defy us, little bird, and you will all suffer a fate worse than death.”

The Knight brandished her sword and glared at the sorcerer with fury in her eyes.

“I will never submit.”

A Knight's Resolve, Part 3

The most skilled archers in Valerius let loose their bows and hundreds of arrows whistled through the air. The beast howled, confirming their accuracy. But two fast volleys later and the monster was upon them. It crashed through the first line of shields and into the center of the company. The Knight Aveline was desperate to provide her soldiers a chance to recover and stepped forward to confront the beast.

The monster paused and seemed for a moment to recognize her, then resumed its vicious attack. Possessed by unshakable resolve, Aveline deflected the monster’s frenzied talons with her legendary sword, Durendal. Shards of obsidian rained to the ground as her magic blade did its work. Shield-bearers, swordsmen, and spear-wielders dispersed and encircled their furious quarry, waiting for any chance to strike.

Frustrated by the Knight’s defiance, the monster roared again. It lashed out in every direction, intent on wounding as many as possible with each swing of its long arms. Aveline leaped backward as knife-edged fingers reached for her. Archers continued to empty their quivers, and when those were exhausted, arrows deflected by armor were collected from the ground. 

Healers rushed among the melee, administering what aid they could to the wounded, chanting prayers and wrapping injuries. Keen howls of pain were smothered by discipline and pride among the riotous cacophony of combat.

The shadows that enveloped the creature filled the space like smoke. The heat of the battle was overwhelming. When a fighter fell, reinforcements from outside the crucible joined the fray. There were no screams of despair, no sobs of fear. Only shouts of command and lamentations of failure. Chaos reigned, but every warrior knew their responsibility to see the task was done.

Though the army fought valiantly, the Knight Aveline feared the mystical beast could very well outlast them all. She devised a plan and called for spear-wielders and shield-bearers.

Within seconds one hundred of each stood before her. She informed them of her plan and deployed them to opposite edges of the cavernous space, where they took position to either side of their enemy. As the shield-bearers set their bodies like stones behind their armaments, the spear-wielders hammered long spikes into the obsidian floor. To these, they tied the long ropes attached to each of their majestic spears.

The dark beast seemed bemused by this change in tactics and paused in its destruction. For a better opening, the Knight Aveline could not have asked. At her ferocious command, the shield-bearers parted and spear-wielders threw their weapons harder and faster than they had ever thrown before.

The hundred spears struck true and pierced the monster’s shadow legs. A deafening, anguished scream burst forth as it attempted to retreat, but escape was impossible. The spears’ tethers held fast and in its frantic urgency, the monster crashed to the blood-soaked floor. Her comrades breathed relief, but the Knight Aveline knew the fight was unfinished. Even now the murderous demon, its six eyes burning with rage, sliced at the restraints.

Aveline looked to her spear-wielders and signaled to attack again. New spears launched into both arms of the beast and as it struggled against the humans, hundreds of soldiers piled onto each line. Hundreds more of those remaining moved in close to continue the attack, stabbing and chopping wherever there was an opening between the obsidian plates that covered its body.

The Knight Aveline joined in the frenzy. Her legendary sword shattered obsidian and cut deep into shadow. Sure-footed and bold, she leapt onto the beast’s incapacitated arm and ran upward onto its heaving back. The soldiers erupted with elation and cheered for their hero. Darkness writhed beneath her feet and wherever she stepped, it rose like smoke. But Aveline would not be deterred from her mission.

Her heart heavy with the trust of her honorable compatriots, the Knight Aveline raised Durendal high above her head. Without hesitation, she brought the blade down with all of the strength she could manage. It was enough. The sword’s indomitable, enchanted edge sliced into the beast’s neck, then parted its head from its body. Glowing eyes were extinguished, arms and legs were still. After hours of fighting and untold casualties, the beast was dead.

Aveline gave silent thanks to her father and teacher, Great Knight Roland.

The massive body of the beast began to evaporate into shadow, but before the soldiers could enjoy victory or attend the wounded, a new mystery emerged from the dark. When the last shard of obsidian fell away, the Knight Aveline gasped. In the demon’s place, a bloodied, unconscious King Aurleon now lay.