“No…I…I think I’m gonna charter an airship this time.”
“I see. Well, good luck.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“You know me, Vincent. I’m not big on goodbyes. Besides, I have an entire country to run now. So, my time is rather precious. Just…be safe and come back soon.”
“Will do, Queen Emilia Blackfire.”
She smirked. “I truly can’t get use to people calling me that.”
Vincent soon gathered his things, including his sword from the throne room. When he picked it up people couldn’t believe how much little effort he used. He walked away smugly. From on top the castle wall, Emilia, and Cassandra watched him leave.
“You didn’t tell him, did you?” Cassandra asked.
“How can I tell him something I don’t understand, Cassandra?”
“You know it’s about him. His name was written all over Levi’s ledger. Vincent Valentine, the Black Knight. Hard to believe when I say it out loud. Still, Levi was building an entire army for him using my sisters as brood mothers.”
“She accelerated the pregnancy using magic as well as age them up. They were about ten years old when we found the children. Only…without Levi’s magic, they all soon quickly died. Turned into paste. That truly was a horrible sight, Cassandra.”
“One I wish to never see again,” Cassandra added. “I still feel as though you should allow me to tell them. They may have no memory of giving birth but I can see it in their eyes that sense of…loss. They have a right to know.”
“I know,” Emilia muttered. “But what can we do? Say we tell them that they had children. Then we tell them that child is now dead. No parents want to outlive their child, Cassandra. I’m queen now. And that means I have to make the hard choices. This whole fucked up chapter in Blackfire’s history shall never be written. No one besides the two of us will ever know what really went on in these walls. Do you understand me?”
Cassandra bowed. “Of course, your grace. I shall never tell a soul. Forgive me for speaking out of terms.”
“It’s fine, Cassandra. Still, that last verse in Levi’s ledger has me a tad worried. ‘The brother of light and the brother of dark shall fight. One will live and one will die. The land shall shake, the sea will recede, and the god-killer shall once again make himself be known. All you have to do is look up. For the god-killer is always watching.’ What the hell do you think that even means?”
“I can’t say for sure. But if Vincent truly is the brother of dark, then who is the brother of light?”
Chapter 11
Before leaving Blackfire, Vincent procured a horse. Walking seemed as though it would take to long and he had very little time to spare. He wanted to get back to Illya as quickly as possible, but he also wanted to get there in one piece. Although crossing the Black Sea would be the quickest route, he decided to journey to Sky Reach. This meant once again have to cross through Slavers Bay. Or rather, the remnant remains of this world’s most notorious slave trading hub.
There wasn’t a soul in sight when Vincent got there. The Goblin King’s head was mounted on a spike in the middle of the square along with many dead bodies of slavers and slave masters. There was a sign pinned to the spike.
It read: “The Black Knight was here.”
This was clearly meant to strike fear into the hearts of anyone who thought about restarting the slave trade. A good idea. One that Vincent approves of. He hopes that someday this place will be made into something great. Knowing Emilia, she already has something planned for that.
Sky Reach was only a few days on horseback. You knew you were close once you had to climb up a very steep mountain. This place holds very true to its name. For when you climb up this mountain you truly do feel as though you are reaching for the sky.
Once you break through the first cloud layer, you are treated to a sight not many people have ever seen. Not the poor anyway. Sky Reach was a golden port in the sky. The sun that sparkled off the gold floors gave it such a radiant shine you would think you were walking into the palace of a god.
The sky ships themselves were nothing to scoff at either. Hulking titanic ships made of oak and steel hover in the air at nearby docking ports. Magic itself played no part in how these ships hovered, or so scholars have debated. Three gigantic diamonded shape Pylon crystals powered and kept the ships in the air. One on the port side, one of the starboard side and one underneath the ship. They are created naturally in the earth. It was actually only until the last turn of the century that humans discovered that Pylon crystals can achieve flight.
Vincent approached a man who wore a black doublet suit. He examined Vincent. Immediately judged him by the clothes he wore, the dirt on his face, and the sword on his back.
“Excuse me, sir.” He said. “I believe you are lost. This is a first class sky ship, a none stop journey from here to Illya. A ship of this status is far too much for someone of your…appearance.”
Vincent rolled his eyes at the man. “I believe I’m in the right place. I have to get to Illya. So, how much will it cost me to get on this ship.”
“Two-thousand gold pieces. Now that I have satisfied your inquiry would you please…”
The man was interrupted when Vincent dropped his satchel full of gold pieces on the floor in front of him. By the sheer quantity alone there were at least five thousand gold pieces. More than double the ticket price.
When the man reached down to grab some of the gold, Vincent stomped on his hand. Not hard enough to break it or cause pain, but hard enough so that he was pinned underneath Vincent’s boot.
Vincent squatted down until he was eye level with the man. Sweat began to form on the man’s forehead after catching Vincent’s gaze. Somewhere in those green eyes of his the man could feel the cold hands of death tightening the rope around his neck.
“If you ever decided to look down on me again, I promise you that I will be the last man you ever see before I scoop your eyes out with a rusty spoon.”
Vincent got off the man’s hand.
“I expect to see three thousand gold pieces in my room once you are done taking the two thousand I owe you. You do not want me to come looking for you.”
The man did not move until Vincent board the ship. Hell, he didn’t even breath until he was gone.
A group of attendants escorted Vincent to a first class suite on the ship. The room had a feathered bed, silk sheets, a marble bath, linen towels, and a view that would make you feel like you are standing on top of a mountain looking down on the world.
The sun-kissed Vincent’s face as he took a deep breath. Lavender? The room reeked of it.
Turning back around, Vincent saw someone on his bed. A very familiar child. For he was wearing the same clothing as him and that is because it was him. The Black Knight in his ten-year-old form.
“What are you doing here?” he coldly asked.
“I’m always here, Vincent.” The Black Knight replied. “I just choose not to make myself know to you. You are the only one who can see me, after all, but I don’t think that’s answering your question. Tell me, do you still intend on looking for your sisters?”
“Of course I am. If you are me as you claim to be then you should already know my answer.”
“Figured as much. I can’t stop you. I’m not the one in control of your body. I’m just along for the ride. For quite some time now I’ve been trying to put together memories. Trying to see if this foolish errand is what you really want or the indoctrination.”
“And what did you find?” Vincent asked.
“No idea. Gave up. The indoctrination has been in effect for too long. I can’t break it. Besides, I’ve been too busy reliving your sexual conquest on Emilia Blackfire. Word of advice: pace yourself. You have the stamina of a god for crying out loud. There is no reason you should…”
“Enough!” Vincent yelled out of embarrassment.
“I’m just saying. Still, that woman is something. I knew a woman
like her once.”
“When was this?”
“Millenniums ago. Believe it or not, I wasn’t always just an arm. I was a man or at least I think I was. Hard to say. I’ve conquered both men and women when I had a body. Then I met her. For the life of me, I can’t remember her name or face, but she was beautiful. She always smelled of lilacs. No man could bed her, not even me, and she was never afraid to speak her mind. I remember…I remember the music. And her dancing. The men sat around getting drunk talking about their latest conquest while I…while I watched her.
“I can kill a man with both hands tied behind my back. I can bed a woman simply by winking, but when I came to her I…I was weak. I wonder if that was love is. I suppose it doesn’t matter. She’s long dead and I am no more than an arm now.”
“How did you become this?” Vincent inquired.
The Black Knight smiled. “I was alive during the time of the gods. I had to have been forty at the time Samrio and the others made themselves known to us. The god of war stood true to his name. War was…awful. I lived to kill, I found honor in battle, but there was nothing honorable about those battles. Unarmed men, women, and children killed like animals and left out in the sun to root. Bodies piled up as tall as mounts and I…I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I fought because I loved the rush of war. Not because some god I never heard of commands me to do so. I wanted to stop it all. Even if it meant I would never have a place in this world without war. Even if it meant my own death. So, I raced off to confront Samrio. I could never forget that sight. He was taller than any mountain. Compared to him we are nothing more than the size of ants. How was I to defeat him? Still, I had to try.
“Surrounded on all sides, I was. Wearing nothing but my steel armor and sword. I cut down so many people that day. My armor turned from steel silver to crimson red in a matter of hours. And as the days went on without so much a break in the fight that crimson blood corroded my armor turning it black. I couldn’t even recognize my sword after that. I piled those bodies so high into the air I felt weightless by the time I reached Samrio. Then…I fell. I collapsed from exhaustion. I don’t remember ever hitting the floor. It’s quite possible I died before that. But when I woke up again, I found myself locked away in that arm. That whole war was nothing more than a test. Samrio wanted to mold a weapon forged in blood and war. And I delivered myself to him. He took my right arm and locked me away inside of it.”
Vincent approached the Black Knight. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked. “We’ve only talked twice now but I got the impression from our first meeting that you don’t appear without purpose. So what was the point of that story?”
“The point, my dear fallen prince, is this. I wasn’t the only weapon forged that day. I was the right hand of Samrio which you now possess. Who got the left hand?”
Chapter 12
Sitting in his marble tub, engulf by the scent of lavender, Vincent couldn’t help but wonder about the left arm the Black Knight told him about. Hell, until a few months ago he assumed this arm was nothing more than a deformity his father did to him. He’s still finding it rather hard to comprehend that this is a weapon forged in blood and war for the god of war——Samrio. Still, a question must be asked, why does Vincent now possess this weapon and not Samrio? History is unable to answer what happened to Samrio or the other gods. It is as if a gigantic chunk of history has been written out on purpose.
During those long down times between trial by combat, Vincent would request some reading material. Of course, it had to be approved by Rodrick, but he rarely ever refused his request for literature. One particular book caught his eye. It was titled “The Forgotten History.”
It was covered in decades of dust on the top shelf. The pages were molded, the leather was in a state of disrepair, and most of the binding was moth eaten. Still, one should never judge a book by the state of the cover. For inside, Vincent learned things that no scholar would teach, things that no historian would ever deem factual.
The first tale Vincent recalls reading about was an ancestor of his named Brann Valentine. This was long before the formation of Avia, Blackfire, Livia, and the many others kingdoms that now litter the world.
Brann Valentine, also known as Brann the Strong, was alive during the age of the god. He was to be able to decapitate a man with his thumbs alone. Hard to believe, but Vincent found something else very interesting about Brann. He was born with silver white hair.
It was said that his hair was the source of his strength. It was said to be uncuttable so it grew to the length of twelve football fields before his dying day. Brann was only one such example. The more Vincent read of this book the more extraordinary people with the same white hair emerged. One could move as fast as lightning, another could hear the voices of the animals and talk to them, and one had the ability to shape shift his form from man to animals or man to animal to a woman. “Extraordinary.” He would say to himself.
Then he came across one chapter that had only a title. “Death.” There was no other word written. The page after that was the birth of Avia and the rest of the kingdoms. There is three millennium of history just gone. No one seems to notice or care, but the more Vincent learned about his arm the more he wants to know what happened during that time. It had to have been recorded somewhere, but where?
Vincent kept to himself the majority of the time while he was on the ship. He did push ups when he was bored, crunches when in the late evening, and only left his room to go to the dining hall to eat. It was made perfectly clear that he wasn’t welcomed. Perhaps because he did not wear a gold ring on each finger, or had his body wrapped in silk. The rich and the powerful do not like eating with people of lower class. Funny. Seeing as how Vincent could kill them all at the drop of a hat and they would be powerless to stop them. He’d be lying if he said the idea hadn’t crossed his mind. Still, five seconds of satisfaction isn’t worth smelling decay for the next five days.
He returned to his room one evening to find his satchel of gold waiting for him on the desk. All three-thousand gold accounted for. He was probably too scared to even think about taking one gold piece more.
After an uneventful week, Vincent finally arrived back at Illya. His search for his sisters has taken him to the White Spire at the center of the capital. The heart of the elven nation.
Two guards blocked Vincent’s advance to the golden doors of the white spire. Both guards were elves. They were decorated in hulking gold and silver armor and carried a spear in their right hand. “Halt!” one of the guards commanded. “You stand before the golden doors of the White Spire. State your business.”
“I’m looking for two women. Both with scarlet red hair and green eyes. I was told they were working in the kitchen. Are they still here?”
The guards glanced at one another then finally back at Vincent. “Is your name Vincent Valentine?”
Vincent raised a brow. “It is. How do you know who I am?”
“Empress Cygnus has been expecting you for some time now. Please, this way.”
The guard screamed to open the gates and escorted Vincent inside. The interior was rather bland all things considered. The walls and floors were made of white ivory, but not a single portrait hung on the walls. At the end of every corridor was a potted vase full of dead wildflowers. Vincent touched on of them and found that it turned to ash in his hands. What Vincent noticed the most was the lack of guards or servants inside. The White Spire seemed to be all but abandoned. That was until they finally reached the top of the spire.
Empress Cygnus truly was a beauty with no equal. She was sitting behind a silk curtain at a table presumably drinking tea. Her long blonde hair hung on the back of the chair and her sky blue eyes sent chills down Vincent’s spine. It felt as if she was peering into his soul.
The guard bowed his head and said, “Your grace, I present Vincent Valentine.”
Cygnus waved the man off. He bowed his head once again, left the room, and closed the door behind hi
m. She finished her tea before approaching Vincent. His face became flushed as it became increasingly more apparent that Cygnus wasn’t wearing any clothing. So Vincent turned his head.
“Cute.” She said. “You act like a virgin but you clearing aren’t. A man who turns his head away from a naked woman. Who says shivery is dead?”
“Would please put something on.” He muttered.
“What’s wrong? Feeling exposed? No. You just don’t know where to look. Ah, well, I’ve had my fun.”
Cygnus went through the doors on the other side of the room. She returned wearing a silk blue dress. A rather transparent silk dress, but at least she wasn’t completely exposed now.
“It’s been a long time since anyone has come to visit me. I find dressing myself in the morning rather pointless seeing as I’m often alone here.”
“The guards downstairs said you were expecting me. How did you know I was coming?”
“From that cute little-wanted poster Rodrick sent everywhere. Vincent Valentine. Silver-white hair, green eyes, wears all black and carries a sword on his back. Right arm is often bandaged up. Sound familiar? I knew the second I saw that your journey would take you here. I am sorry to say that your sisters are no longer here.”
“Then where are they?” he coldly asked.
“See, I could tell you, and I want to tell you, but what you give me in exchange for this information?”
Vincent rolled his eyes. “Nothing in life is free. What do you want?”
She placed her hand on Vincent’s rather powerful chest and began running her other hand through his surprising straight hair. She could feel his heart being to race with each second that passed. They stood there, eyes locked on one another. Vincent found himself incapable of moving. Perhaps he didn’t want to. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt the touch of a man. Perhaps you and I could…”
The Return of Constantine (The Blackest Knight Series, Book 2) Page 7