Fogle Eric - Forge of the Gods 01 - The Last Knight (V1.0)

by 5kops

  "A good idea." He whistled. "Maybe I should stop talking to the air and get ready."

  Smiling to himself, Areck pulled off the last of his armor. The leather smelled of oil and sweat, yet it was his, given to him by the Marquis of Couth for a rendered service. Though the senior noble rarely visited Aresleigh or the Bre'Dmorian Academy anymore, Areck had never forgot­ten the old man, mainly because he had served as the High Scholar in the Hall of Philosophy. The man was a shining example of the graciousness Starsgalt taught his followers: compassionate, understanding, and tolerant of other viewpoints. Mostly, it was he who had secured Areck's faith in Starsgalt, despite the pain of being in the divine presence.

  Though it was uncommon for a Bre'Dmorian to wear anything less than heavy armor—mainly banded, scale, or a suit of field plate—Areck had vigi­lantly cared for the lighter armor and hired expert tailors fit it to his matur­ing body. By learning to fight in lighter armor, Areck had become an anom­aly among his brethren; he was also effective in the cumbersome burden of plate mail or that of leather and chain. It really depended on what kind of foe he was fighting.

  For two thousand years, plate-wearing knights had dominated the battle­fields against the enemies of Arsgoth. However, the Marquis of Couth was a strategist in ancient warfare and had pointed out flaws in the cumbersome armor, the first being that once a warrior lost his feet, he usually lost his life. The marquis argued that against an opponent wearing burdensome plate, a lightly armored fighter would have room to plan precise strikes. He said that sometimes it took a nimble mind to beat an enemy, that there was weakness in everything, it only took maneuverability to exploit it. The man's opinion did not stop plated armor from being the predominant type among knights throughout the world. It allowed warriors to stay with the mentality that by barricading oneself inside heavier armor, a combatant could feel secure that stronger was always better.

  Areck pulled off a shiny gauntlet and dropped it into a neat stack of ar­mor. He then picked up the dark blue vest and eyed it warily. The clothes were fit for a lesser noble of the realm.

  A night outside of the Academy might not be all that bad, Areck thought, con­sidering the amount of time he had spent in study. It isn't like I have spent much personal time outside the Halls . . . well, other than following I jord Silvershield around the underbelly of the city.

  The solid impact of a shutting door brought Areck out of his reverie. He glanced towards the entrance to his room and tugged on trousers. He rep­rimanded himself for daydreaming. If he did not hurry, he might as well seek out Arawnn and just deal with his sinful venture into the city.

  With moderate haste, Areck sat down and pulled on a pair of soft leather boots. When he was satisfied, he glanced at the mirror, posed, and than grabbed a plain white cloak. As he walked from the room, he snatched a small dagger and buckled it to his left hip.

  He considered pulling the hood of his cloak up to conceal his face. I am already pushing the limits of the Code, Areck thought. If I conceal my face, I will only look more suspicious. Someone might even take me for a thief! The thought was more than he could handle. He decided that his honor would not be sullied with such rumors. Areck opened the door and peeked down the hall. He was surprised that it was empty. He guessed that most squires would be in nightly prayers or studying, with the exception of men heading off to guard duty or coming back from a day of chores. If his guess was correct, most squires would be in the cathedral where he had first encountered Lord Lightbringer that day.

  "Thank Starsgalt!" Areck muttered. His heart raced with fear of being caught, as it would be very awkward if any his peers were to witness his sneaking around.

  Areck made his way down the hall and back to the hub, descending two flights of stairs in short order. When he exited the stairwell, Areck glanced down another empty corridor and made his way towards the war room, a large chamber in the middle of the second floor. At this time of night it was usually empty; however, Areck was surprised to see a pair of knights stand­ing guard. Areck heard voices rising angrily inside the chamber but could not discern what was being said. He told himself that it did not matter what was being said and it was none of his concern.

  With purpose, Areck lowered his gaze and walked passed the guards­men, nodding to each one before making his way to the far end of the hall­way. He then worked his way through several groups of fifth year students heatedly discussing the application of the Book of Anduin. The group of younger squires was so engrossed in the conversation that they hardly no­ticed him pass by.

  Areck smiled. It was an interesting subject that posed several legitimate questions. He wanted to tell his peers that in philosophy, every message was highly subjective to the perspective of each individual. In fact, he had been having discussions with a scholar named Vandallan, whom he considered a friend, about the hypocritical view of the world. The man consistently chal­lenged him by questioning why Areck thought his faith was the only an­swer.

  Areck had tried to explain that in religion, belief in God was a choice; a price one paid to the service of God. More so, for a mere man to have a relationship with God, pride needed to be released and trust in His word, the Book of Anduin, was required. To Areck's mind, his explanation made sense. But Vandallan always returned to a single argument: everything was affected by perspective, culture, and symptomatic comfort. Areck hated how each conversation ended: "Why can't you be the misguided one, in both your judgmental belief structure and the proper way of sendee God?"

  Areck knew his thoughts made him different, and in his own mind, sub par in comparison to other squires. He was too logical to follow along blindly into the night. His subconscious mind demanded that objectivity was the only way for a man to answer his innermost questions about God.

  Though Areck could feel Starsgalt in everything, the sickness never left him. Because of this, his mindset led to his suffering. There was only one way to bring about redemption: acceptance that some things weren't meant to be answered. He spent hours trying to commune with Starsgalt and he wished for salvation more than anything, but still his mind begged for an­swers. This was the problem Areck of Brenly grappled with: he sought an­swers to the questions each professor claimed had no answer.

  It had taken Areck nine seasons of prayer to realize he might never feel the warmth of God's most sacred gift, divine sight. He had never received a divinely inspired vision, which was quite uncommon for even the lowest ranking squires. His limitation only made him pray more.

  As Areck rounded the corner, a small chapel he used frequently came into view. He had spent many long hours in the private chapel and it felt comfortable to him, empty as it was. Following a familiar pattern, he en­tered the small room, removed his cloak then knelt at the base of the shrine. With practiced hands, he mixed rosemary oil and holy water in a small bowl. After a moment he pulled a small flint from his pocket and lit several candles surrounding the memorial. He then lit the base of a Stars-galtian statue and placed several candles around it. Aromatic smoke began to rise.

  Satisfied with the layout, Areck inhaled and felt calm roll through his soul. The wispy strands of gray smoke brought the clarity of mind it took to commune with the divine. It had been used for well over a thousand years to summon more precise visions, though custom dictated that the concoc­tion was beyond a squire. Areck so wished to be normal, he had long ago decided that the potential reward was worth the sacrifice.

  Closing his eyes, Areck began the first part of contacting the Divine Plane by clearing his mind. It only took a moment before he purged enough of his frivolous thoughts so that he could begin the Anduinic chant. He felt the familiar sickness associated with divine magic enter his stomach. Al­though his senses barely registered the pain his spirit yearned for a time when Starsgalt would answer his call and deem him cleansed.

  Areck's mind began to drift away and he felt a loving presence enter the room. His subconscious grew nauseated with the raw power and he guessed that a lesser servant of God had
come to investigate the call. His senses registered the electric feeling and goose bumps ran down his spine.

  Intuitively, Areck praised the fact that God cared enough to answer such an unworthy servant. With an iron will, he suppressed the sickness and let his mind slip further into the trance, trying to solidify the connection. To­night he gave thanks to Starsgalt for allowing him the chance to be included in the day's activities. He asked God to forgive those sins that he was yet to commit. When he was done giving thanks for a blessed life, Areck prayed for his company's safety in what would be a long journey, and for King Roderick II to find his way to Heaven.

  Areck was about to add several more prayers when a whisper glided across his face and the churning in his stomach intensified. He could feel something, possibly an angel, enter the room. It listened to his thoughts, brushing his skin with its presence. Its touch sent tingles through his arms, making his eyes water in pain. He had never felt love like this before, so powerfully pure! His heart soared with joy—an angel was making contact with him!—it made him feel like he was truly a knight. For the first time in his young life, Areck's prayer was answered. The event caused a tear of pride to roll down his face!

  Understand. A perfect thought bloomed in his mind.

  White light flared in his mind and the tingling in his body intensified. It came to a crescendo, leaving him trembling with pain and joy. He realized at once that he was not ready to understand what he was being shown. Worse, it was against The Code to cease a vision once started. It would be the greatest dishonor, one that would strip a knight of rank and pride, to ask for a vision and then deny it. He tried to comprehend the indecipher­able words to no avail. He wanted it to stop, but realized that his only choice was to endure the pain.

  With that, Areck of Brenly let to divine vision take him.

  The light dimmed, leaving him with a view of mountains. His vision blurred and he saw a trio of peaks, which Areck theorized were the Three Sentinels. Then he was hovering above Stormwind Keep, an impregnable city-fortress built into the mountain itself, controlling the only pass between Aresleigh and Natalinople. He saw Stormwind's mighty walls manned with soldiers, each carrying a longbow, poised stoically and watching merchants.

  He sped in his vision past Stormwind Keep and into the Pass of Storms, its long winding road leading out of the Dragonspine Mountains and to­wards Natalinople.

  Again, Areck's vision blurred. This time he saw the glint of metal from a battlefield with a pair of dead knights ... or at least one seemed to be a knight. Movement caught his eye; one was still moving, crawling away from the battlefield, grievously wounded.

  There was another bright flash of light.

  Areck looked around just in time to see a third figure approaching, bear­ing the cloak of a Bre'Dmorian knight, emblazoned with a pair of criss­crossing long swords encompassed by a golden crown. The man drew an ungainly sword and walked over to defend his fallen comrade— wait, that was not correct—the wounded man was crawling away from the knight, who was now darkened by a demonic shadow.

  Areck tried to call out, but no sound came from his lips.

  The wounded man rolled over to defend himself with a shortsword. Fear ripped through Areck's mind as he glimpsed the wounded man's face. Though it was heavily distorted, the visage belonged to Arawnn!

  With a deft motion, the Bre'Dmorian slammed his sword into the chest of the courier and turned around . . .

  ****

  "Are you well, Areck?" a voice cut into his mind. "Areck . . .?"

  The voice sounded concerned. Though Areck recognized it, the voice was distant, tugging at the corner of his thoughts. The vision swirled and the mist thickened. He was no longer soaring over the mountain pass.

  "Areck, are you awake or dreaming?" the voice was insistent. It dragged him back before he could finish.

  Areck felt like he was being sucked down by a whirlpool. He was not finished! The knight's face, he had not seen it! He desperately tried to fight off the beckoning sound, but the voice was overpowering, repeatedly calling his name.

  Even-thing went dark.

  "What in Starsgalt's name is wrong with you, Squire?" the voiced asked.

  Slowly, Areck's mind became conscious and his eyelids fluttered before they squinted up at the ceiling. This was highly unusual; he was no longer kneeling but lying on his back. The vision had been exceptionally intense, especially for his first time. He accepted the pain the divine presence in­flicted upon him to see the end, but someone had dishonored him by end­ing the communion prematurely.

  Areck opened his eyes and gazed into the concerned visage of the royal courier. The young man was sitting with a dampened cloak in his hands and a relieved look on his face.

  Righteous anger boiled in Areck. He had been rudely interrupted and humiliated, in front of one who was not even his brethren.

  "Why did you do that?" Areck whispered hoarsely. "Do you not know the Code? No one outside the Bre'Dmorian Academy may interrupt a communion. You have humiliated me in the eyes of Starsgalt!"

  The look on Arawnn's face almost made Areck apologize. "I ... I watched you enter the chapel," Arawnn stumbled for words. "Lord Millbert mentioned you would be here. For more thirty minutes I have wandered around and observed your customs. I even talked with several knights be­fore making my way here.

  "It wasn't until I heard you cry out that I entered the chamber," Arawnn continued, "where I found you collapsed on the floor. I thought maybe you were injured."

  "It was not your place to interrupt a communion, even on my behalf," Areck said. "It is a knight's duty to sacrifice in the name of Starsgalt. Some­times meaning is unknown to us and suffering is the road that must be traveled."

  "You are not a knight yet," Arawnn said. "And though it is true I do not know your customs, my orders do include you as an escort to Stormwind Keep. To have you fall into the Waking Death is not something that would benefit the cause. Anyway, you look ready to keep your word in the matter of showing me a night on the city! You certainly are dressed for the occa­sion." Arawnn gestured, trying to relieve the tension.

  Areck glared at the young man before him. He could tell that there was no malice in the heart of Arawnn of Almassia. The courier had come to his aid, heedless of the situation or the consequences. The man had risked Areck's ire to make sure the squire was not injured. And Areck had to ad­mit that he had never witnessed a communion that ended with a disciple crying out and collapsing. Although Areck would never forget the humilia­tion, God was plainly teaching him a lesson of mercy and forgiveness.

  Areck took a deep breath. This man had not meant to interrupt the communion, therefore it was hard to fault him for reacting the way he did. "My anger is misguided, sir. In my weakness, I cried out. Were I a stronger man, I would have accepted Starsgalt's gift with joy rather than pain. It is my own fault that you acted the way you did. However, I would ask that if the situation repeats itself, please do not interrupt."

  Areck left no room for argument. He wanted to make sure that it was apparent he was offering an apology but that Arawnn should respect his wishes.

  The courier nodded in understanding. Satisfied with the response, Areck knelt down to the shrine and offered a quick prayer of thanks before dous­ing the candles. After he had finished pouring the contents of the cask on the small fire, Areck stood up and turned towards Arawnn.

  He was about to say something witty when two thoughts came to him. First, he had left his quarters in the hopes of losing Arawnn for the night yet here the man was; it seemed rather odd. Second, the vision had ended with Arawnn's death. The question in Areck's mind was, did the vision have a singular possibility, or did it show the actual event as viewed by Starsgalt? If it was divine sight, meaning predestination by God, then Arawnn was going to die and nothing could change that fact. However, if the vision was a single possibility amongst a plethora of probabilities, God could be trying to offer assistance, especially dealing with a traitorous knight.

 
Areck did he best to process the information before judging the mean­ing of his contact. Was it his place to tell Arawnn of his doom, or should he pray that another vision would clarify events? If he told Arawnn in order to prevent the man's death, and the meaning behind the vision was to warn of the betrayer, then telling Arawnn might alter the outcome.

  What if I am wrong and have misjudged my first communion? Areck thought. Even if I am wrong and told Arawnn what could happen to him, if God already saw it, can it be changed? What if God is offering me a chance to save him?

  Areck shook his head in bewilderment. This was beyond him. He trusted his intuition but was not ready to gamble with the life of another person for something that was not clear.

  "Are you going to stand there all night, Squire?" Arawnn broke the si­lence with a quick smile.

  Areck looked about and smiled at the royal courier. Arawnn must be uncomfortable inside the Citadel of the Hand. Those who had not spent a great deal of time within the Bre'Dmorian Academy often felt confined by its closeness. Not to mention, so many Bre'Dmorians in such close prox­imity made many people feel like they were being scrutinized.

  "I am sorry, sir, my mind is wandering tonight. Things have moved so fast, which is uncommon for the Bre'Dmorian Order. How about I lead the way out and we discuss what's in store?" Areck waved his hand towards the exit.

  With a hoot and clap on the back, Arawnn strode eagerly towards the hub.

  Areck grimaced. He knew this was going to be an interesting night, es­pecially with the terrible knowledge he now held.

  Maybe it is my job to let him have some fun before he is to die. Areck considered the statement. Even if I cannot save the man, at least I can show him a good time.

  With that, Areck followed Arawnn down the hall.

  6

  ARECK AND Arawnn made their way down the hub in relative silence. As the pair prepared to leave the building, a hand grabbed Areck's shoulder.