“Eon?” Dauid repeated, “Hmmm… Yeah, I guess I know a little about Eon. Ain’t much to read about him and I can’t really read much as it is but yeah. I know a little about Eon.”
“What can you tell me?” Rubaan asked.
“I can tell you a lot,” Dauid replied sarcastically, “The sky is blue. People don’t take care of their cars. I’m missing my game. What can you tell me?”
“What can you tell me about Eon?” Rubaan asked sharply.
“Calm down boy,” Dauid chuckled. His laugh turned into a deep cough and he moved his mask out of the way and spit, “Damn, need a breather. Hold on and I’ll tell you what I know about Eon.” Dauid proceeded to produce a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his blue shirt pocket and with a shaky handset his mask aside and popped one of them in his mouth. He flipped open his old lighter and lit it.
“You know I can only survive for about three hours without that mask?" Dauid snorted and shook his head, "And I have to take it off to charge it. It takes two hours to charge. Some kind of shit, right? Anyway, Eon was some kind of motherfucker,” Dauid slowly took a seat in the chair behind his desk, “Survived a thousand years only to be killed by some upstart freedom fighter he had never heard of before. Xian the Phoenix, founder of you know who.”
“Black Knight,” Rubaan muttered.
“Dammit, son you’re not too bright, are you?” Dauid asked, “Don’t be throwing those two words around together in the same sentence. You never know what kind of bugs the inquisitors have flying around. I’d hate to lose my contract with them over a simple little talk with you.”
“Sorry,” Rubaan said, “Continue.”
“What I know about Eon is what my grandpa told me about him when I was a kid,” Dauid continued, “You see I used to work in his shop with him. He had a junkyard where cars went to die and I used to suck all the gas out of ‘em and put it in my car. Anyway, my grandpa, Yurl was his name, was from out west where Eon did most of his nasty work.” Dauid paused for a moment and looked around him. He took a deep drag and exhaled. He reached in front of him with his “good hand” and grabbed the pack of cigarettes that was sitting on the table, “You smoke?”
“No, thank you,” Rubaan replied.
“Pussy,” Dauid blurted with a half-smile. His body shook from a light chuckle and he put the pack down, “You know you can buy 20 of these for 60 aurum now? Probably means nothing to you but that’s a damn good deal.”
“So you were talking about Eon…” Rubaan was eager to hear more. For a moment Dauid did not move a muscle save to exhale the smoke from his cigarette. He stared in Rubaan’s direction, not saying a word and finally he pursed his lips and let out a cough.
“I know what I was talking about,” He said dryly, “I may be old but I’m not that old yet… anyway, my grandpa, Yurl didn’t give too many details about Eon. He told me that monsters used to stalk the weak and that people disappeared from their homes without a trace only to be found by Xian Phoenix’s troops after the battle. Eon turned regular, innocent folks into slaves in their own bodies.”
“Do you know how he did it?” Rubaan asked.
“Some kind of mind control I reckon,” Dauid replied. “Like I said I really don’t know the details. All I know is Eon had a small army of shivers that burned lots of towns to the ground back home.”
“Shivers?” Rubaan asked.
“Yeah that’s what they called Eon’s slaves,” Dauid replied, “They apparently used to shake when they walked like when you get cold and shiver.”
Rubaan thought back to the night before about the cold sensation he felt down his spine. He remembered his body felt so cold that despite his inability to control his movement he still shivered. He sighed and stood up from his chair.
“Well, that is all I needed to know,” He wrung his hands together, “I need to get back home to my family now.”
“Don’t let me stop you then,” Dauid said between drags, “Door’s open all the time. Except when the brayball game is on.” He glared at Rubaan and then smiled.
“Thank you, Dauid,” Rubaan turned toward the door, “Take care of yourself.”
***
Screams echoed off the walls of the mines as one by one Rubaan’s co-workers were slain. Bodies littered the floor; some writhed in pain while others were motionless in puddles of their own blood. Amid all the carnage and chaos slowly walked the one who everybody thought was Rubaan. He swayed as if he were listening to a gentle orchestra; soaking in the majesty of the music.
“Beautiful, beautiful,” Eon whispered, holding his hands out in front of him, “‘Tis music to my ears; a perfect homecoming. Would you not agree Glen?”
“Of course my king,” Glen replied in his dead, emotionless tone.
“Come, I permit you the freedom to express your true emotions,” Eon replied, turning to look at his slave, “How do you really feel?” At that, Glen took a deep breath and fell to his knees. He gasped for air as if a strong grasp had been released from his neck and when he found his breath, he looked up at Eon, clasped his hands together and began to weep.
“Rubaan, why?” He pleaded between sobs. “Why are you doing this?”
"Dear child,” Eon replied, shaking his head and kneeling down to Glen’s level, “Rubaan cannot hear you. Rubaan is asleep and I, your king, have taken up residence in his body. Now tell me, how do you feel about the symphony?”
“The s…symphony…” Glen replied, looking down at the ground. He knew he could not fight, he knew he could never win. He looked up at Eon and closed his eyes, “Please show me mercy. I will do anything, just please don’t kill me.” Eon in response threw his head back and laughed.
“Oh, Glen you delight me!” Eon wiped a tear of joy from his eye, “Do you know how long it has been since I last heard a whelp like you plead for his life at my feet? Glen, you have made this struggle worth every moment I spent in the Hells. For that, I shall keep you alive.” He knelt back down and picked up the pickaxe beside Glen, “Provided you prove your loyalty.”
“Anything Rubaan.” Glen replied, “Whatever you ask.”
“Fool!" Eon snarled with a sudden burst of fury, “The next time I repeat myself to you I will crush your spine. I am Eon, your king.”
“Yes Eon, I’m sorry!” Glen burst into more tears, “Please forgive me.” Eon snickered and turned toward the massacre in the mines.
“I know you are here!” Eon shouted to the hidden survivors, “I know you value your lives! If you wish to continue living, come out from your hiding and kneel before me!”
Nothing immediately happened but Eon did not flinch. He stood absolutely still and waited.
“I can feel all of you. Every time each of your worthless hearts beat, I can feel it. I know where each of you is hiding; all six of you. However, I also know you are all afraid. I know exactly what fear does to your minds and therefore I am giving you to the count of three to come to your senses and reveal yourselves. Those who do not will most certainly face very painful deaths.” Eon looked down at Glen and smiled, “Begin the countdown.”
“One!” Glen shouted immediately, not risking Eon repeating himself.
“Come out, come out,” Eon beckoned, “Let your lives begin anew or lose them!” Two of the hiding miners revealed themselves and fell to their knees in front of Eon. Eon grinned and pointed at Glen.
“Two!” Glen shouted.
“Four hearts beating,” Eon glanced at his new servants, “Four bodies hiding. Come to your senses children…” Three more miners ran forward from their hiding spots and knelt next to their co-workers. Eon nodded in approval and gripped his pickaxe tightly. He looked down at Glen and pointed at him.
“Three!” Glen shouted.
“Alas!” Eon shook his head, “Poor, poor soul. I gave you the chance to come to your senses but you could not. Your fear has damned you!"
Eon stepped forward, pushing his way past the kneeling miners, “Before you die, I shall impart this knowledge upon you. I
can read you from where I stand. I know you have two little daughters at home and that your wife died giving birth to the second. I know your mother was addicted to sugir and that your father was killed fighting in the Govian army in the Exgrane Liberation Wars. I know everything about you… and I understand your fear. This is why I will give you one final opportunity. Come out, come out. Let me kill you personally so that your daughters at home do not have to suffer the same fate as their father.” Eon paused and listened. He sensed something approaching from behind but did not react. He knew what was about to happen.
A sharp pain erupted through his body as the pickaxe tore through his back. Eon gasped and fell forward, landing on his hands and knees.
“Fuck you!” a digitally modulated voice shouted as a metal covered boot slammed into Eon’s ribs, “Fuck you!” He began stomping on Eon’s body, “You will never harm my daughters; you will never harm anyone again!” For a moment Eon endured the pain, reveled in it as it was comfortable to him. It was, after all, all he had known in the Hells for the past hundred years. Finally, though, he decided it was time and raised his hand in front of him. The stomping ceased and Eon was able to get to his feet.
“I commend you,” Eon said as he dusted himself off. His back was facing the being with the modulated voice, “Few have ever been so brave as to attack me. Many, however, have been stupid enough.” The attacker, caught in Eon's grasp and unable to move, watched in silence as the gash on Eon’s back healed almost instantly. Eon turned around to face him and hummed.
“That helmet...” He stepped forward and reached his hand out, gently caressing the graphite colored headgear. He ran his fingers along the ventilators that allowed for breathing and down to the point at the bottom where the chin would be.
“Prevents inhaling the dust,” Glen informed him, “Keeps us from getting it in our lungs.” Eon reached behind the being’s head and unstrapped the mask.
“This should do nicely.” Eon looked down at his new prize and held it up to his face. He strapped the mask on and looked back up at his attacker with a hidden smile.
Quickly, he snarled and formed his hand into a fist. The miner's ribs crumpled like a piece of paper inside him and he couldn't even gasp. Eon delighted in his own power and as he fiercely stared at the dying miner, he released his fist. The miner's body exploded in all directions, bathing everyone in blood and gore.
"Delightful." Eon's voice was modulated, robotic sounding from the mask he wore. He turned to his new followers and extended his arms.
"Welcome to the kingdom."
Chapter Sixteen
Alec IV
22nd of Ramlia – 346AG
08:45 – Canrom City
Stevill Flox stood thoughtfully in the hallway outside his hotel room and waited as Alec attempted to unlock the door. It was second nature for the sniper to be watchful and to always examine everyone’s movements, usually through the scope on his rifle but in this circumstance that would have been inappropriate. He thought for a moment about why the usually calm and cool Alec was having so much trouble getting the door unlocked but then remembered how distraught the Humaan was over losing his friend.
“May I help?” Flox asked in his almost whisper of a voice.
“I’ve got it,” Alec growled, disregarding his usually proper way of speaking, “Thanks.”
Flox nodded and stayed out of the way. He thought to himself about his surroundings, the matted and worn red carpet with gold lining and the cracked plaster walls. He noticed that the lights were dim and flickered every one once in a while and checked where they were located in the event that he needed to disable them. He felt these details were important for him to note.
Alec finally got the key to turn and quickly pushed the door open. He hurried inside the dark and musty smelling room and dropped his pack on the floor. Flox followed behind, not nearly as quick.
“First thing is to attempt to establish contact with Dariz.” Alec pulled out his communicator, “If he has reached his destination then we need not get comfortable.”
“Negative,” Flox replied as he took a seat on one of the stiff beds, “Contact Bran.”
Alec closed his hidden eyes and sighed deeply, “Right,” He was disappointed with himself, as he wasn’t thinking clearly. He sat on the other bed and flipped open his communicator, “Will you hand me my pack?”
“Of course,” Flox replied, bending down to pick it up. He grabbed the cloth pack and handed it over to Alec. He momentarily recalled their brief interaction with the knight from whom they had received their supplies from at the Canrom City Underground Base.
The Canrom City Underground Base was a figurative name, not a literal one. The base was hidden in the alleys, backways, and ghettos of Canrom City and led by none other than Crinnan Jamiso’s own mother and father, Ladia and Crinnan Senior respectively.
The Underground Base was a very conservatively populated group who mostly gathered intel and relayed information between Base 21 in North Canrom, Base 11 in Kamlot, and Base 4 in North Barus. The Underground Base also facilitated rendezvous points for any knights that would need to travel through Canrom City, assisted Black Knight Ghosts in recruiting and every once in a while performed assassinations or rescue missions as needed.
Alec reached into his bag and pulled out a small tablet computer. It was a fragile item left over from the Ancient days so he was careful when he pushed the power button as those occasionally broke. While he waited for the device to power up, he looked over at Flox who was sitting silently with perfect posture.
Alec smirked and shook his head. He wondered how anyone could be such a drone, so quiet and internally focused. He had never been very good at that up until recently. He concluded that death did that to people. Death hardened people and silenced them; it gave them focus. Flox definitely was no stranger to death. He and Century’s other sharpshooter, Karkus Baron, had the highest kill counts in the entire squad.
The tablet powered up and Alec plugged in his communicator. It had all the software on it that he needed to flash the communicator so that it indicated he was calling from an obscure location on the eastern seaboard. All he had to do was wait for the devices to communicate with each other and then tap a few buttons as he was prompted. He did what he needed and waited.
***
“I bet you never seen nothin’ like this before,” Grandpa Dauid said to his grandson, “The ships that won the war.”
“I saw ships in a book before,” Young Alec replied, looking up at the retired vessels, “They are Govian ships…”
“Yes, they are Govian,” Dauid looked down at his grandson, “Good or bad, they still won the war.”
“But the war is not over,” Alec replied, “We are still fighting.”
“Son, y’all just started fighting. One hundred years ain’t nothin’ compared to how long Govia’s been around.” Dauid grabbed his grandson’s hand and the two began to walk.
“Grandpa?”
“Yeah?” Dauid replied, a bit distracted by the ships he loved so much.
“Why do you not like my father?” Dauid stopped and glanced over at his grandson.
“Ain’t much for me to like about him,” He replied, “I don’t want to talk bad about your daddy though. Let me just say I wish I could take his place and raise you instead.”
“My father is a good man,” Alec assured his grandfather. Dauid sighed a frustrated sigh and thought carefully about his words.
“Your daddy is not a man. Men don’t abandon their sons. And even if he was a man, he wouldn’t be a good one. A real man puts aside his work, his fame and his reputation to spend time with his son and his wife. If a real man can’t find time, a real man makes a sacrifice. Your daddy… doesn’t deserve you.”
***
“It appears to be ready,” Flox announced, snapping Alec out of his daydreaming.
“Right,” Alec looked down at the tablet and waved a hand at Flox, “Thank you.” He unplugged the communicator and dialed the
number for Century Squad.
“Big Ned’s Wrecker Service,” A voice declared, “You crash it we stash it.”
“Cedric this is Alec. Let me talk to Bran.”
“Hold,” Cedric replied. Alec waited a moment and Bran’s cigarette marinated voice came on the line.
“Mornin’ Alec. What’s your status?”
“We have arrived at the hotel,” Alec reported, “Preparing to make contact with… the contact.”
“Very good and eloquently put. Your orders are…" His voice abruptly went silent for a moment as his attention seemed to be drawn elsewhere. What the fuck? Emerald?” Alec could hear Bran calling out Emerald’s name and rustling about frantically. Something was going on and Alec plugged his left ear to try and hear better.
“My orders are what?” Alec asked into the device. Bran remained silent, or at least, he continued to ignore Alec, “Bran? Hello? What is going on?” He looked over at Flox who was laying down on the bed silently.
“Bran went silent,” He worriedly told Flox, “Something is going on, he's calling out Emerald’s name.” Flox did not respond or move; he simply silently laid on the bed.
“Hey, Flox!” Alec spoke louder, trying to get his attention. Flox again did not respond. Alec began to worry about what was happening. He stood up and started to walk over to the sniper, but halfway through the walk Flox slowly and calmly sat up. His expression was less placid than usual.
“Are you okay?” Alec asked him. Flox looked at Alec and slowly nodded his head.
“I am fine,” Flox assured him with a sigh, “But... something just happened.”
“What happened?” Alec asked, “What is the matter?” Flox was beginning to appear uncomfortable. He stood up from the bed and snatched the communicator from Alec’s hand.
“Captain Bran,” Flox spoke intently into the device, “Are you there?”
“Yes,” Bran replied, “Something... unexpected just happened to Emerald.”
The Black Knight Box Set Page 45