Knights Apocalyptica

Chapter 1: A Dream

Erec didn't expect much out of the bulky rusted suit of Armor racked in the corner of the room. All it needed to do was stay together for a couple of more days; he could not care less about what happened to it after. As long as it got him through the trial and accepted into the Academy, that's all that mattered.

Dim orange LED lights illuminated the steel frame of the Armor. His fingers traced the dents, tears, and loose wires hanging from the joints and subsystems. Some of them were fresh—a particularly deep gouge in the rust was a product of him pushing it past its limits in the last training session. But others weren't. For example, the welded plates on the front were the product of a ferocious monster tearing into the frame. And likely, the death sentence from a workable model into what it was now. Provisional loaner armor that would need no small amount of tender love and care to return it to an okay state.

“Oof, busted again?” Garin said after the steel slabs at the entry to the workshop slid open.

They were tucked in the depths of the kingdom, miles below the surface. This workshop had a literal ton of dirt and stone above it that separated them from the sky and world above. And the Academy. Yet both were at complete ease in the dank and grease-stained room; why wouldn’t they be? They’d spent their whole lives down here.

“I might’ve been a little too hard on it,” Erec admitted.

He couldn’t afford to fail the trial. Not when his brother succeeded and with his whole life riding on it. Training with Armor like this was out of his grasp for the longest time—but Bedwyr passed his trial under similar circumstances. One might even argue that the Armor loaned to Bedwyr was worse. No, Erec would surpass Bedwyr. He had to. This was his one shot.

With the Goddess’ Blessing and this rag-tag Armor, Erec would climb out from the caves and shadow of his family’s legacy to join one of the Orders.

Erec treasured the couple of memories of his time on the surface. Hundreds of thousands lived their whole lives without seeing the sky. Yet, at first sight, that ocean of blue stole his heart away.

Humanity had crawled its way out of this hole fifty years ago, but the privilege of living on the surface was a price paid in blood. And he was ready to help defend the thick steel walls that kept the monsters of the wastes at bay. They protected this kingdom, but more importantly, they made it possible to bask in the sun once more.

If only I had better Armor. More training… Getting into the Academy would’ve been easy; if he were like most of the nobility. But his house had so many of their privileges and authority stripped away.

“I could ask Dad if we’ve got a spare mechanic,” Garin offered. His father, Baron Jeswald, directly oversaw Erec’s house. Through Jeswald’s shelter, House Audentia weathered the last ten years. Erec would sooner throw himself through a rift than ask anything more from the man.

“No thanks, but I appreciate the offer. It’s better to learn how to maintain your Armor. This is a valuable learning experience since there are few expeditions that’d allow you to bring a mechanic.”

“Fair, fair. I’d thought I was pushing it lately, but you’ve gone off the deep end, haven’t you? Why?”

“You know why.” Erec rubbed the back of his neck.

A twinkle came to Garin’s eye, and he smirked. “I sure do. So how about this…” he pulled out two sticks made of real wood. Erec worked his jaw. Yeah. Those were definitely from one of the bio-caverns. It was maple wood. Erec was familiar with the exact cavern it came from since he’d helped maintain it over the last three years. A beautiful bio-cavern that supported beech, maple, and apple trees, it was also filled with an assortment of other life that thrived in the temperate conditions, including squirrels. Too many squirrels, to be honest.

More importantly, nothing should’ve come out of those caverns unaccounted for.

“Garin!”

“Yeah, yeah, I knew you’d do this. It’s fine. Dad wouldn’t care. C’mon, Erec, they’re just sticks.”

The point wasn’t what they were. Even if the Baron would only shrug if someone told him his son was going around taking small things from his bio-caverns. Documenting what went in and out of those controlled environments was vital. They couldn’t afford to introduce an invasive species or transmit some odd virus to the bio-caverns. Too much of their industry and supply lines still relied on them.

They still produced hard-to-obtain food and commodities, and Erec highly doubted his friend put in the care to sanitize and respect nature. It was a bit of a dick move and beyond selfish on Garin’s part. Erec stared him down until Garin caved.

“Fine, I won’t do it again, promise. But since I already took these—how about, we trade some pointers?” Garin gave an easy grin that complemented his dumb face and promised pure intentions.

Erec dropped his complaint. It wasn’t like his friend would listen anyway, and it wouldn’t change what’d already happened.

They were good sparring tools—it was good they weren’t shaped liked swords. Practically everything was. Go figure that when the Goddess' icon was a sword, her people went nuts over them. But the importance of swords alone was disturbing. Their only purpose was to kill. Any day of the week, he’d instead take an axe or a hammer, but often the kingdom left him with no choice in terms of practice equipment.

“You know what? I could go for a nice little confidence boost. I’d love to show you the concrete.” Erec stretched out his lean muscles. He was about three inches taller and often quicker than his friend. But he lacked the substance that Garin had. Lanky versus robust. Their typical sparring match was a toss-up, but something in Garin’s eyes told him this wasn’t just for fun.

“In your dreams, Lord Audentia.” Garin mocked and gave a small bow. Erec snorted. His brother and father were Lord Audentia. Not him.

Erec and Garin walked a safe distance from the Armor and Tables filled with welders and screwdrivers. The dusty workshop would serve as well as any for their fight; all they needed to do was limit the arena to keep from breaking things.

With the boundary established, they took stances on either side of the chamber.

Erec fell into a broad stance and stared Garin down while he swayed back and forth; he knew the ins and outs of Garin’s style. However, that was a double-edged weapon. Garin knew him too. Predictably, Garin launched straight into the fight and teased the edge of Erec’s range with the maple stick. He ducked in and tried to bait a swing, but Erec waited. It was best to find an opportunity and strike with a solid decisive attack.

In a sudden flurry of speed, Garin committed to a sudden stab. Unexpected, but Erec slid out of the way. But since he failed to anticipate the bold move, there wasn’t any way to punish the aggression. Garin shoved forward and slammed a stocky shoulder into him. With his chance made and Erec on unsteady ground, Garin raised his weapon above his head to land a clean hit.

Erec backpedaled and raised his stick to catch Garin’s downward arc. He blocked the follow-up and then used his superior speed to put more distance between them and reset.

Much more aggressive than usual.

Garin circled as he searched for another opening to swoop in, but Erec wasn’t about to give him another chance after seeing his first move. A sudden juke of his friend made him wince. His side ached—that shove was full force. This sort of cheap tactic and frantic fighting wasn’t Garin’s usual style. But then, this wasn’t a spar, was it? It was a test. Which of us is better? Their rankings were similar even if the distribution of their Virtues differed.

I can surprise you too. Erec flew at Garin and rained down blows in a flurry of strikes. Each bit of range he had over Garin let him control the engagement. His speed and sudden shift from wary and tactical to a violent barrage caught his friend by surprise. Garin backed up further and rapidly approached their fight's boundary.

The constant hammering of sticks brought sweat to Erec’s brow. But he saw Garin grimace with each strike—his arm shook, and Garin’s stick grew lower as his strength gave out. Soon the occasional whack landed on his arm. I’m going to win. This fight is mine.

Like tilling a patch of dirt before planting, all that effort went into preparing the soil and creating the right conditions for optimal growth. Instead of sowing a seed, he readied the battlefield for the perfect moment.

There.

Garin’s sweat matted and caused his long black hair to cover his eyes. He shook his head to clear his vision. Erec sprang forward, double handing the stick high into the air. He swung in a mighty arc and threw as much force as he could behind it—Garin tried to defend, but it was a second too late—the weapon cracked against Garin’s skull, tearing into his skin and provoking a pained yell.

Erec dropped the stick—swearing and crouching down to look at the damage. The fight pulled it out of him and made him go too far. He’d wanted to win so bad for a moment he forgot who he was fighting.

Garin clutched his head and accepted a piece of cloth to stem the blood. It was a nasty gash but non-vital. “Fuck. Where did that come from? I know you were angry at me for stealing from the bio-cavern but did you have to bash my head in?”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t—“

Garin laughed at Erec’s red face. “No, no. I know I started it. It’s just—I wanted to know? How it’d end if we both gave it our all. Whenever we practice, there’s never that edge to it like they say a real fight has. If we’re going to do well at the Academy and become Knights worth anything, that’s a feeling we have to get used to.”

There was a blinking notification in the corner of Erec’s vision. The Blessing had given him notice. He slowly nodded at his friend’s words but couldn’t tear his attention from the notification. Garin squinted at him.

“No way. You advanced?”

“Don’t know for sure yet—is it okay if I—?”

“No, no! Don’t even ask! Open it! Tell me what jumped up!” Garin grinned at him, still holding the bloody cloth to his forehead. Erec only hoped Garin’s father wouldn’t get too upset. The trial to join the Academy was a highly formal affair. As Garin was from a family with some renown, those impressions on their future classmates and the other families attending the trial mattered in the higher circles.

At least that’s something I don’t have to care about. Seems exhausting.

Erec pulled up the notification from the Blessing.

Strength Advancement: Rank E - Tier 4 → Rank E - Tier 5

It was an advancement. The last one he’d had was three weeks ago. And that hadn’t been to one of his higher-ranked Virtues. Erec beamed, and Garin arched an eyebrow.

“It was Strength—Tier 5 now.”

“Damn, congratulations,” Garin nodded, then sighed. “I haven’t gotten an advancement for Vigor this month, even with all of the conditioning and my trainer helping out. Sure, Cognition went up, even Agility, but no luck on the one I wanted most.”

Vigor was Garin’s top Virtue. The one he’d inclined himself to and pushed further than the others, citing it gave him the biggest advantage both on the battlefield and in his life. Erec was thankful it hadn’t managed to climb any higher—or that trick he pulled with the unrelenting assault wouldn’t have had a chance of breaking through his defenses. That and keeping up with Garin during training was already a pain in his ass.

Erec stared at the junk Armor and found the prospect of the future work a heavy suppressant to the little bit of glee he felt at the advancement. “I should get started with that…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Garin waved it off, still clutching the bloody cloth. “I’m going to take a hot bath and nurse the wound you left me. Congratulations again; I’m taking the rest of the night off.”

Garin gave one last wave before walking out of the steel doors and leaving Erec alone with the Armor. He stared at the little-better-then scrap metal.

“No time like the present.” He grabbed a screwdriver, tossed on his goggles, then got to work.

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