There I was, getting all upset besause after 2 days no one had reviewed this chapter yet, when I suddenly realized I had uploaded the doc, but not posted the chapter. :P

Now, there it is. Please review!


Important:

1- About the time of the story, it's set between volumes 2 and 3, but in my fanfiction the interval between them is a few months, instead of a few days.

2- Since people (bleeb90 and Alex Penedo) wanted to read about Roland (and I wanted to write about him too), I decided to write this chapter now, and write about the other knights as the ideas pop up in my mind, and when I'm finished, I'll rearrange them more or less chronologically.

Also, that 18 month break I mentioned, now I have the details – I know where and when I'm going – so you'll have me until May. Review and make suggestion about the next knight to be interviewed while you can!


Zero Distance Prayers

Chapter N: You've been looking very lively these days.


"Knight-Captain Hell?" The Hell Platoon Vice-Captain, Tyler, asked in uncertainty. He was in a dark alley, because his captain had asked him to meet him there, but the place semed empty.

"I'm here." Roland's voice came from a distance of only a few meters. Tyler couldn't help but being impressed. Even though Supreme Dragon's assassin's clothes were out of place, even flamboyant, in the Holy Temple, they were the real things for stealth missions in the night, and he supposed the job of the Hell Knight did involve lots of stealth missions.

"Here are the things you asked me, captain." He gave his captain a stack of papers. "Papers from Knight-Captain Storm." A bundle of clothes. "Some discreet clothing." Tyler hesitated before giving him a small sack. "And Knight-Captain Ice asked me to give you these sweets. And Knight-Captain Judgement told me to warn you that you are wanted in the Holy Temple and..." The vice-captain hesitated a little more before giving what he considered the most strange message. "Knight-Captain Sun said something very lenghty and incomprehensible that ended with '...under the grace of the God of Light, impart with Brother Hell these very words, without the slightest variation: He will have my hide if you don't come over.' Or something like this."

Knight-Captain Hell usually didn't show much expression. Even if he did, most of it was covered by his assassin mask. But this night Tyler was sure his captain was terribly disturbed by the news.

"Captain, sir? Will you go to the Holy Temple?"

"I will." Roland answered with a grim tone.


The two holy knights – captain and vice-captain – started their way towards the Holy Temple. It was a chilly night, and Tyler would have liked to walk in a brisk pace, but Knight-Captain Hell was walking as if unaffected by the cold. He seemed to be walking even slower than his normal pace, as if he dreaded arriving at the Temple.

"Tyler?"

The vice-captain was startled by his captain's sudden call.

"Yes, captain?"

"Do you still resent for my sudden arrival at the Holy Temple?"

"No!" Tyler denied fervently, and it was true. In the first few weeks after the arrival of "Supreme Dragon" he'd been infuriated and rebellious, partly because he didn't want to be demoted from his higher position, partly because of genuine concern about handing his platoon to a guy who wore black leotard. But as the Twelve Holy Knights welcomed Supreme Dragon in their ranks, and the vice-captains welcomed their captains' improvement of mood, and the other knights welcomed Supreme Dragon's expertise with the sword, Tyler's refusal to accept him had become a matter of pure stubbornness. Stubbornness that Captain Hell had beaten out of him during their duels.

"Really?" Tyler wasn't as skilled as the other vice-captains in deciphering hidden thoughts fom his captain, but he was pretty sure Captain Hell was surprised to hear that.

"Really!" He assured. "In the beginning I was very upset, but now I realize I was just being stubborn. There is no one who's better suited to command the Hell Knight Platoon than you, captain."

Hearing that, Roland was silent for a long moment. They kept walking, and soon entered a small plaza with a fountain murmuring softly.

"Let us sit, Tyler. I should talk to you."

They sat by the fountain, and it was a few more minutes before the Hell Knight talked again.

"Tyler," Roland began. "I would like you to know that my name isn't really 'Supreme Dragon'."

Tyler nodded. He expected that, for he couldn't think of parents who would, in their right mind, name their child "Supreme Dragon". The Hell Knight went on.

"My name is Roland. And I suppose it would be better if you, as my vice-captain, knew my face. It wouldn't do if you couldn't recognize me when I'm not wearing this." He gestured to the black leotard with silvery armor. Then, slowly he removed his mask.

Together with the mask, other disguising features were disabled, causing Roland's hair to return to its pale chestnut color, and his eyes to their pale, greenish blue. The lines of his face were hard, not because of his complexion, but because of his serious nature. A woman would probably find him attractive, but his wasn't a face to stand out in the crowds. And Tyler found it old, as a person who had suffered a lot.

"If you don't mind me saying it, captain, I think the other holy knights in the platoon should see you without your mask too." Tyler suggested.

Putting back his mask, Roland nodded.

"If I have the time for that."


When he entered the Holy Temple, Roland went straight to his room. He wasn't sure if he would be there by the morning to correct those papers for Storm. But before he started reading the first paper, his door was opened with a kick.

"Hell! Why didn't you warn anyone that you were back? It was pure luck I crossed Tyler on the corridors." The vice-captain, who was being dragged by Knight-Captain Blaze, shot his own captain an apologetic look. Ignoring him, Blaze continued to talk. "You are to go to the Temple Gardens at once."

Desperate, Roland tried one last appeal.

"But it's the middle of the night."

Blaze looked at him, wearing a serious expression.

"If you want to use this as your excuse, you tell him."


As he entered the garden, Roland felt the nightly wind and stopped, listening to the quiet. He couldn't felt the touch of the breeze, nor smell the flowers, but he could sense the garden brimming with life: the plants, the insects, and further inside the Temple, holy knights deep in their sleep. It would be very peaceful, if it weren't for the fact...

"...that you don't belong." Calad appeared behind him and finished quietly. "Come, let us be seated."

Roland followed him into the garden and they sat on the ground, among thick bushes of fragrant flowers. Seated, there wasn't much of a height difference, and Calad had a serious expression that canceled the youth he usually displayed.

"Take off the mask, Roland."

Roland obliged, and Calad seemed to study his features. The God of Light sighed.

"It saddens me that you've been avoiding me for so long, Roland. Why have you done that?"

"It is throughoutly known that the God of Light bears no love for the undead."

Calad sighed again.

"Yes, that. It is a wildly spread misconception, you know. I do hate the making of undead. It's like a murder backwards. But you can't blame a murder on the victim. I don't hate you, Roland. I never did." He smiled and went on. "So stop acting as if you won't be here tomorrow to train your holy knights and correct the papers Sun gives Storm."

Roland smiled back stiffly. So he wasn't going to be destroyed. Not tonight. Suddenly Calad looked very upset.

"But what I hate the most is how unfair this all is to you. What you've got... It's no life. I wish you could be alive. Or dead. Anything but this in-between."

This hit so close to the mark that Roland was forced to say.

"I wish it was so, too."

"And I can't revive you, it's against the rules and War would be mad at me, and rightly so – gods shouldn't intervene in the affairs of men. But then again, the dead shouldn't intervene in the affairs of the living, and that's why Shadow and I are in this endless discussion..." He trailed off. "You died so young! And you wanted to be the Sun Knight!"

"I... I am okay about it now. Really."

Calad snorted.

"Right, of course. And you are okay about 'justice' as well? Because you know as well as I that those are the two things that drive you."

"Okay, perhaps I still regret not being chosen the Sun Knight." Roland conceded grudgingly. "But since we are at it, why wasn't I chosen?"

Calad didn't answer immediately. He even looked up in reminiscence and passed his arms around his knees.

"Well, that is hard to explain. My way of choosing the next generation of the Twelve Holy Knights is not as direct as Shadow's way of choosing the next Demon King, so every generation I have lots of candidates, but most of them don't even make it to the selection. And when they do, I trust my current Holy Knights to pick up their substitutes. I can only give them inspiration. And this time... I needed Grisia. He has... a way with people. You must know what I'm talking about. Even in your state, he still makes you care."

Suddenly Roland realized this was true. After the king was deposed, he had spent his days in Pink's house, not caring enough even to be bored. Then Grisia had showed up with his schemes and pushed him in the midst of the Holy Temple, and sometimes Roland found himself so immersed the Twelve Holy Knight's business that he completely forgot he wasn't alive.

"Yeah. Grisia has a way with people."

"Of course, you would have been a great leader, too." Calad seemed to hush into reassuring him. "But given what is to come, it was another kind of leadership we needed."

"'Given what is to come'? What is to come?"

Horror-stricken, Calad realized he had talked too much. But it was no good trying to change topics.

"Difficult times. That's all I can say without Shadow and War pestering me. But since we are at it, Grisia will need you. Badly."

"Do you trust me? For taking care of him?"

"I've always trusted you to take care of each other. Always. So promise me you will be here for him."

"I will."

"Even if it is dangerous?"

"Yes."

"Even if it is difficult?"

"Yes."

"Even if it hurts?"

"Yes."

Calad smiled at him. First like a person contemplating a sweet yet sad memory. Then his smile got brighter and wider until he just started laughing.

"What... What is the matter?"

"Oh, Roland! You're so serious all the time. You ought to smile more!"

"..."

"Oh, I know what you are thinking. 'But I am dead!' Who cares? In these last weeks you have dueled with Tyler, sparred with Judgement, instructed half the Holy Temple in sword-fighting, finished correcting documents in the nick of time, tasted sweets, gone on stealth missions, gone out of your way to avoid your boss – me - and had a heart to heart with your vice-captain. To me, it seems the schedule of a pretty lively person. So cheer up! You should enjoy life for as long as you're not exactly dead. And now, why don't you tell me about that secret mission Grisia has assigned you and how it went?"

Roland felt much happier than in the beginning of their conversation, so he complied and started talking. It wasn't as if Calad didn't know it alredy, but it was an excuse for Him to spend more time with His children.

Even if this particular "child" didn't belong with the living, he belonged with the Twelve Holy Knights.