The Black Knight Box Set

by Christian J Gilliland

  Crinnan shook his head. He could not get the idea out of his mind that he had just ruined the lives of some innocent children. He sighed and pursed his lips together as he squeezed the handle of his sword. Furiously, he started to run in the direction that the other voice had come from. He knew he had to do something.

  “BygDyk… Jaaren… where are you, man!” Crinnan heard the voice call out, “We need to log out and… hey, who are you?”

  Crinnan approached the demon quickly and furiously. He appeared to be the size of a normal person and had basic brown leather armor equipped. Crinnan immediately sent his fist into the demon’s jaw and knocked him backward. The demon did not fall, but as he staggered, Crinnan raised his sword so that point rested against his throat.

  “You are looking for… BygDyk?” Crinnan rolled his eyes at the ridiculous name and the demon gave him a confused nod.

  “You are a prisoner…” he whispered, “How did you… you can’t hurt me!”

  Crinnan groaned and gently swung his sword upward, cutting into the demon’s face. Blood trickled out of the wound and the demon gasped and reached up to grab his wound.

  “How is this possible?” He shouted, “What are you?”

  “Do you know BygDyk!” Crinnan shouted, “Answer me!”

  “Yes!” The demon furiously replied, “He’s my brother!”

  Thoughts of his own brothers briefly flashed through Crinnan’s mind. He shook his head and held back his rage. The fact that these Govians were real people was infuriating to him, why couldn’t it have been simple like it was on a battlefield?

  “Your brother can’t leave the Hells; he is a prisoner now,” Crinnan snapped, “You need to go get his kids. You need to take them to your house… your brother will not be coming back.”

  “What do you mean!” The demon’s voice cracked, “Did you… have you kidnapped him? Where is Jaaren, what is going on!”

  “Just fucking do it, dammit!” Crinnan hissed as he pushed the blade toward the demon’s throat, “And go now, before I change my mind!” The demon looked like he was contemplating it all for a moment but finally looked up with a bitter expression and nodded his head.

  “You’ll pay one day,” He snapped as he reached his hand out and pointed at Crinnan, “You will fucking pay you piece of shit.”

  “Good,” Crinnan spat, “Now get out of here.” At that, the demon vanished and Crinnan was left alone. He snarled and growled for he could not shake the shame he felt. He hated the moments that he thought about the people he killed and usually was able to bury those thoughts inside him. It had never been that bad though, the fact that the Govian could talk to him after death, that was what made it difficult.

  Crinnan wandered back to the body of BygDyk and looked down at it. It was nothing more than a lifeless, bloody corpse and Crinnan sighed as he spoke.

  “Your kids will be fine… your brother is going to get them.”

  “You piece of shit!” BygDyk snarled, “You’ve taken me from them, you’ve ruined their lives! You are evil, a worthless piece of garbage!”

  “And you’re a rapist-murderer,” Crinnan countered with just as much ferocity, “Just as much a piece of shit as you say I am.”

  “It is a game!” The dead demon insisted, “A fucking game! It isn’t real!”

  “Tell that to the prisoners you’ve tormented,” Crinnan said, “To the ones your government has imprisoned in this place. Fuck you, and fuck Govia.” At that, Crinnan turned and walked away. He was done with it all; with the demon and the talking. He had work to do, he had his own salvation to achieve and he was not going to waste any more time.

  “A measure of great benevolence to be sure!” Ander called out as he ran up behind Crinnan, “Verily, you are indeed a being of great moral fortitude. Tell me, oh champion Black Knight Crinnan, where do you go from here?”

  “I don’t know,” Crinnan answered, “I have one more level to reach before I can descend to the next level of Hells. I guess I just have to find more things to kill…”

  A small piece of ground suddenly started to tremble and mound up in front of them. Crinnan watched as a shadow spider’s pointed leg pierced through the dirt and he quickly jammed the point of his sword into the mound. He heard a screech and then a black plume of smoke rose upward.

  Once again, he heard the singing and the black aura surrounded him. He found it strange that all he had to do was kill one spider to level up again but shrugged it off. As soon as he turned to Ander to speak, the air around him began to spark and suddenly an oval of blue swirling light appeared in front of them.

  “‘Tis the portal to the second level of the Hells,” Ander declared.

  “What do I do?” Crinnan asked as he stared into the light, “Do I… just walk in?”

  “Verily,” Ander nodded and extended his hand toward the portal, “Come, let us venture forth together.” At that, the two stepped forward into the light and the portal closed around them.

  Chapter Six

  Sarasin V

  22nd of Ramlia – 346AG

  20:00 – Canrom City, Impulse Lounge

  Sarasin stood beneath the purple neon lights of the Impulse Lounge, a bar and dinner spot that was popular amongst the wealthy and influential residents of Canrom City. The light from the sign illuminated her pale skin and provided a strange contrast to the black dress she had changed into. She had taken the time to shower, put her hair up and re-do her makeup after sobering up, though her manicure had chipped from all the fighting she had done that day. Before she stepped inside, she paused to compose herself.

  “Shake it all off, Sarasin,” She whispered softly to herself, “Stay strong.” She closed her eyes as she shoved the events of the day down deep inside. Eryc was there, he was waiting for her and hopefully, he would be able to provide her with some clarity. She took a breath, and as she waved her way past the doorman, she stepped inside.

  Her black heels stepped onto the soft red carpet and she saw a large room full of dozens of elegantly dressed members of the higher echelon of society. A magnificent crystal chandelier sparkled above and bathed the white room in bright light. She watched as the people wandered about the space and superficially smiled and chatted with each other. She could hear glasses clank and the sound of obnoxiously fake laughs and as she stepped up to the host, she felt her stomach churn.

  “I am expecting somebody," Sarasin casually informed the host who stood at a podium at the front of the lounge. He was wearing a black tuxedo and his hair was slicked back behind his pointed Elf ears, “Captain Eryc Wilhymm, has he arrived yet?”

  The host did not bother looking up from his podium. He cleared his throat at the sound of Sarasin’s voice and let out an annoyed sigh.

  “Name?" he demanded in an uninterested tone.

  “Bishop General Sarasin Fyr," she grumbled in an annoyed tone.

  The host quickly looked up and slammed the book he was reading shut. He smiled and tried to hide his nervous expression, “Why, of course, my lady! ‘Tis a pleasure to serve you. Captain Eryc has indeed arrived, please, right this way."

  He beckoned for her to follow, and walked forward with an elegant gait; she walked close behind. The patrons of the lounge all turned and watched as Sarasin walked by. Some smiled, while others nodded and lifted their glasses at her as she walked past. She heard many whispers exclaiming things such as “There's Lady Sarasin!” and “She is even more beautiful in person!" she could not say that she did not enjoy the praise and attention; sometimes it was nice to be recognized. She thought of her recent actions and hoped her life would stay that way.

  If only they had seen her in the streets earlier that day. She wondered what they would have thought of her, what they would have said. She sincerely doubted that she had been recognized, she didn’t think it possible with the way she had done her makeup and kept her face hidden with the hood of her cloak.

  “My lady!” a portly being approached her and smiled widely. He was an Elf who wore a violet
and gold trimmed suit and walked with a red cane. He did not need the cane; he simply wanted to show off the enormous amethyst handle.

  “Governor Treyodees,” Sarasin stopped and nodded at the Elf, “So wonderful to see you.”

  “Likewise, my dear,” She extended her hand as was custom and he bent over and gently kissed the top of it, “It is absolutely lovely to see you out this evening. I trust you are prepared for your speech tomorrow?”

  “Of course, Governor,” Sarasin nodded her head as he arose, “I look forward to it.”

  “As do I,” Treyodees smile did not cease, “We all count down the moments until we get to hear the most beloved of Bishop Generals speak. The whole city is talking about your presence here, you know.”

  “I am flattered, Governor,” Sarasin smiled and Treyodees gave her a wink. She watched as another person walked up behind him, a Vampre by the looks of it with blonde hair that was pulled back into a bun. He was thin and handsome and walked with an illustrious gait. He wore a baby blue fitted suit and held a scarf in his hand.

  “Now who is this yummy little specimen?” The Vampre asked with an effeminate tone, “By the Goddess, you truly are adorable.”

  “Senator Graham,” Treyodees looked back and extended his hand toward Sarasin, “I would like to introduce you to Bishop General Sarasin Fyr. She flew in from Cidroska and will be delivering her speech tomorrow at the festival.”

  “Ah, Bishop General!” Graham sounded delighted and he flashed a sparkling smile, revealing his pointed teeth, “I have only seen you from afar, how lovely you are up close!” He bent down and kissed Sarasin’s hand and she nodded at him.

  “Senator Graham, representative of the Vampre people,” Sarasin smiled and Graham stood back up, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Oh you flatter me, honey,” Graham fanned his face with his hand, “I attended a speech of yours earlier this year in Mrask. I do declare; you truly have all these tiny little people under your thumb. Maybe one day you can tell me how you do it?”

  “You are too much, Senator,” Sarasin let out a delighted hum and she looked away, “I have heard of you, you do great things for the Vampre people.”

  “I do what I must to make sure my people are taken care of,” Graham rolled his eyes and let out a dramatic sigh, “Oh the labors of power, am I right?”

  Sarasin chuckled and nodded her head at Treyodees and Graham, “It was lovely to see you, but I must be back to my business. Enjoy your evenings.”

  “You as well Bishop General,” Treyodees returned with a nod. Graham agitated his drink with a thin stirrer and nodded as Sarasin left them.

  She hated the other officials. She hated the entire upper class. Nothing was real to them; everything was superficial and centered around obtaining more. As she looked around the room, she could have screamed. She saw people who had bought their own Stasis, people who despite the Empire’s lifespan law of 100 years, had lived well into their two hundreds and in some cases more. There were people she knew who were involved in the slave trade, others who supplied rebels with weapons to keep the wars going and the money flowing. If somebody had enough money, the Empire was always willing to turn a blind eye toward their crimes.

  “Here we are my Lady," the nervous host announced as he extended a white-gloved hand toward a shining white table with two chairs, “Captain Eryconius is at the bar, I will notify him of your arrival. Is there anything more I can do for you?”

  Sarasin took a seat and smiled at the host, “No, thank you."

  “Does my Lady desire something to drink while she waits?”

  “Dravink," she nearly burst, “Infused with gladeberries."

  “Very good your eminence," he replied with a slight bow, “I will have it brought to you as soon as possible my Lady." She nodded and he walked off.

  “What is this place?" Sarasin heard a small, familiar voice ask. She looked to her left and saw Little Sarasin standing alongside Eliss who looked to be about five years old this time.

  “You two are beginning to irritate me," she groaned as she ran her fingers over her brow and looked away from them, “You are not supposed to be in a place like this. I am going to have you thrown out."

  “They cannot see us," Little Sarasin informed her in a torpid tone, “Not this time at least…" The ghost children took a step closer and Sarasin sighed.

  “Look. I do not understand what you are or why you insist on following me," she whispered sharply, almost angrily, “I do not understand why you will not leave me alone. I have no desire to go with you or whatever it is you want; all I need from you two is to be left alone."

  “Why don’t you want us, mommy?" Eliss wrinkled his face up, “I have been waiting so long… for you."

  “You... are all I want Eliss," she admitted, growling to herself out of frustration. She wished her Dravink was there, “But you are not real. You are a figment of my imagination. I can never truly be a mother to an imaginary ghost."

  “I am real though," Eliss shouted, stomping his foot, “Stop telling me I’m not real!”

  Sarasin looked around to make sure nobody had heard her son’s tantrum. She noticed that nobody seemed phased and turned to look at Eliss.

  “Stop it," she commanded, “Do not make me upset... " She looked to Little Sarasin and grit her teeth, “Why are you here. What do you want?”

  “We want you to come with us," Little Sarasin replied, “Stop living this lie, I know you hate these people. You have already told us that you do not want to come, but I do not feel as if you are completely convinced of that fact. We have answers for you, truth for you. Sarasin, only you…”

  “Talking to ourselves again are we?" a voice suddenly asked from behind her. Sarasin jumped in her seat and quickly turned her head to find a gray-mustached aging Humaan in full Govian officer’s armor standing behind her. She smiled and dismissed the children as she stood to meet him.

  “Eryc," she warmly announced with extended arms. She briefly glanced back to look for the ghost children, and saw that they were no longer there, “Thank you for coming."

  “No need to stand my Lady," He reached out grabbed her forearms arms and she planted a kiss on his cheek, “I am but a lowly old soldier, you are a Bishop General! We both know to whom the burden of courtesy lies."

  “Oh, shut up," Sarasin smiled as the both of them sat, “If I do not treat someone whom I truly respect as a person well, then what kind of being am I?”

  “I would say that would make you a Govian officer!" Then both of them laughed as Eryc broke free and walked to his side of the table. He took a seat just as a waiter approached.

  “Your Dravink, my lady," he placed the glass before Sarasin. She smiled and nodded at the waiter and he turned his head to Eryc.

  “Something to drink sir?”

  “Targaan Ale," Eryc ordered with a huff, “Neat,"

  “Yes sir, of course, sir…” The waiter nodded humbly. He turned to walk away but hesitated and looked back to Eryc.

  “Sir," the waiter beckoned with a look of admiration in his eyes. Eryc took his eyes off of Sarasin and looked up at him.

  “Yes?" Eryc asked. “Something else?”

  “I… I was a soldier once too," the waiter admitted, “Before this job I mean,"

  “Good for you then, soldier," Eryc said with a nod, “Where were you stationed?”

  “My last assignment was Exgrane." He lowered his head shamefully.

  “Oh?" Eryc asked surprised, “I fought in Exgrane as well. I protected Bishop General Daviis who ultimately passed on in that bloody land... You do not meet many who made it out of Exgrane alive."

  “I barely did," the waiter confessed, “A grenade went off right next to me. Took out three of my friends and took a good chunk of my thigh with it. Damn rebels,"

  “Yes, well, Exgrane is all they own," Eryc said, “And soon enough we will take it back Dura’Ana willing. You did your part for the Goddess and for your country and have earned your place in Heav
en. You can rest well knowing that."

  “Yes sir," the waiter said, smiling at the famous soldier before him. “Thank you, sir."

  “Now go get my ale," Eryc commanded. The waiter nodded and hobbled away.

  Eryc rolled his eyes and looked across the table at Sarasin. “Everyone thinks they have a story to tell," he grumbled. “They all think I want to hear it. I tell them all the same damn thing. None of that matters though, just the ramblings of a grumpy old man. What did you need to discuss with me, my Lady?”

  Sarasin fidgeted in her seat and took a sip of her Dravink. She looked to her left and saw that the children had returned. They stood there, shoulder to shoulder and stared at her expectantly. She snarled and closed her eyes to block the little ghosts out and turned her head forward toward Eryc.

  “A couple of things." She folded her hands on the table in front of her.

  “You seem nervous," Eryc observed, cocking his head, “Is everything okay?”

  “I really do not know Eryc," she sighed. A tear formed in her eye and she became visibly distressed, “I mean, no. Everything is not okay. You are my most trusted friend and it seems that things may have gone a bit... awry for me."

  “How do you mean?" Eryc inquired.

  “Well for one… and I cannot believe I am about to tell this but I fear that I am beginning to doubt," she revealed with her head lowered in shame, “All of this Dura’Ana business and everything. I do not know what to think of it all anymore. None of it makes any sense to me; it is all full of holes..." Eryc looked around nervously and leaned forward.

  “Is this the best place to be discussing things of this nature?" he asked cautiously, “There are people all around. You do not want a rogue set of ears hearing what you are saying and then a pair of loose lips defaming your name."

  The waiter approached and delivered Eryc’s Ale. Eryc looked up at him and nodded officially. “Soldier, we need a more private place to discuss official Govian business. Do you have such a table?”