JOURNEY OF A KNIGHT
CHAPTER II. PASSINGS
(DISCLAIMER: The Age of Apocalypse, The X-Men, Charles Xavier, and all related characters are copyrights of Marvel Comics. The Knight Eagle, in all his various iterations, as well as his teammates, is my own personal creations)
1961
Seventeen-year-old Jason McElros narrowed his eyes and slowed his breathing as he squared off against the man across from him. For the last four years, Colin McElros had located master teachers of every known martial art to school his son. At the same time, he had employed the finest scholars from around the globe to teach young Jason history, mathematics, science, and every other subject that there was a teacher for. The young man in the black gi possessed one of the best-trained minds in the world, and was one of the most formidable hand-to-hand combatants alive. All of this was nothing to Jason as he drew his focus in upon the well-built man opposite him.
"Are you prepared?" The man asked, his voice cool and collected.
"I am. Begin." Jason's almost emotionless voice answered.
The man facing Jason was the world's foremost martial artist, a man by the name of Darren Kingsolver. He had spent his entire life learning everything there was to know about combat, armed and unarmed. The last three years of his life had been spent teaching this young man everything he knew. He had succeeded. Young Jason was among the best… if not the best… martial artists in the world. He was in prime physical condition, his mind and body nearing their peak. Any other man might feel fear facing such a specimen. Darren Kingsolver did not. He had never been beaten, not in the fifteen years since he completed his training. He had faced thieves, murderers, assassins, the worst men that the world had to offer, and he had walked away unscathed. But, as always, Jason would learn from every defeat he suffered at Darren's hands, and would become stronger for it.
Darren struck first, gliding across the hardwood floor (they had long since stopped using mats) with catlike grace. He tested Jason's defenses with a snap kick at head level, easily dodged by the lithe young man. He smiled, satisfied in with his instruction of the young man. He moved in faster now, his hands and feet seemingly in a dozen places at once. Feet and fists flew at Jason from every direction, but the young man's face remained impassive. Darren was surprised at the ease with which his pupil deflected his attacks. Suddenly Jason's right hand shot out, catching Darren by surprise, and impacting directly in the center of the master's chest. The surprised teacher flew backward, slowly rolling his momentum to land on his feet. Face reddening, he raced at Jason now, instruction forgotten in the heat of humiliation. He had not been struck in years, and this impudent wretch had penetrated his defenses without so much as a blink. Anger fueled him as he delivered a staggering series of blows to Jason, driving him to one knee, until finally the young man ceded the match.
"Anger can be a weapon like any other, Jason. An angered man can be one of two things: clumsy and reckless or fiercely dangerous. Beware of both."
Darren walked away, the heat in his face dissipating, leaving Jason kneeling on the mat.
"Another valuable lesson learned at the hands of Master Kingsolver, hmm?"
Colin McElros' rich baritone voice came from a darkened corner of the dojo. The man's temples had grayed in the last few years, giving him a dignity that fit well, despite his still solidly muscled frame. The British business magnate had invested a great deal of money in his son's training, and had always been there, silently overseeing his education.
"I tried my best, sir." Jason clenched his hands around one of the bo staffs leaning against the wall. He absently spun it in his hands, moving through the combinations that had become second nature to him.
"I know you did, son. Despite my reasons for hiring him, Darren Kingsolver is a dangerous man at the top of his form. I do not expect you to be able to beat him." Colin laid a sympathetic hand on his son's shoulder. "You are doing very well, Jason. Truly, you are. I could not be prouder of you." Standing, he pulled Jason close to him and hugged him tightly. "Go get cleaned up now, you need to come with me to that board meeting."
Jason walked out of the main room as Colin watched, leaving the staff behind. Colin knelt and hefted the wooden weapon.
"Feels right, doesn't it, McElros?"
Whirling the staff in his hand, Colin spun around to find the voice that had spoken. Standing near the door where Jason had vanished only moments ago was a tall, slender man in his early fifties, dressed in dark slacks and a brown leather jacket.
"What are you doing here, Riddell?"
The man sidled closer, reaching over to the wall to grab a staff as he passed them.
"Isn't an old friend allowed to visit, Col? After all, it has been sooooo long since you and I had a good talk."
McElros watched with way eyes as Riddell circled the room, never loosing his grip on the staff.
"Whatever you want, forget it. I finished with you a long time ago."
"I told you then and I'll tell you now. We're never finished, McElros. Never. You know what it is that I want, and you will give it to me. Now."
"You have no right to it, as well you know."
"Right matters very little to me. I will have it."
"Over my dead body."
"So be it."
Without warning, Riddell leapt across the room with inhuman speed. His staff came down against Colin's with a resounding crack. McElros strained to keep his balance against the ever-increasing strength of the pressure that Riddell was applying.
"Give in, Keeper. You cannot win."
"You may possess power, Riddell, but not the wisdom to use it. You can never be allowed to wield it."
Riddell whirled, renewing his attack with violent energy. His eyes glowed blue, as did his staff as it cam down once again against Colin's. The uncharged wood splintered without any resistance, and Riddell's staff came down cleanly against McElros' head, splitting the skin.
"What did a man once say, McElros? 'Power without wisdom is dangerous, and wisdom without power is useless.' That is what you are. You are useless, and therefore have long overstayed your welcome on this plane."
Whirling his staff again, Riddell whipped it across McElros' face, sending blood and teeth flying. The injure man tried feebly to raise his hands to defend himself, but they were merely slapped away with a flick of the staff. McElros lay sprawled on the floor, Riddell poised to drive the staff home when a second staff came hurtling from the doorway. Screaming ferociously as he darted across the room, Jason leapt the length of the distance between himself and his father's assailant.
"Jason… no…" McElros wheezed from the floor. "Run…"
The boy ignored his father's whispered warnings, and his eyes took on a slight purple glow as he met Riddell blow for blow. The impassivity that his face had borne when he faced Kingsolver was gone, replaced now by an almost feral rage. He would not stop. When Riddell split the wooden staff, Jason took up the two halves and continued his assault, ever so slowly driving the bigger man back. Abruptly, Riddell ended it, leaping backwards into a guarded stance.
"I am not ready for you, stripling. Be assured, next time we meet, I will be. Until then."
Riddell vanished as a ghost, his form becoming transparent and then… nothing. Dripping in sweat, Jason dropped the staves and rushed to where his father was still laying, blood slowly dripping from the corner of his mouth.
"I have to get you to a hospital, father…"
"No Jason. He was right. I have outstayed my welcome. I am being called home. Stay the course. You have a destiny to fulfill. We shall meet again, my son. I will always be watching…"
The light in Colin McElros' eyes went out, replaced by the vacant glassy stare of death. His hand, which he had raised to Jason's cheek, dropped to the floor. Kneeling there, the young mutant wept without end.
CHAPTER II. PASSINGS
(DISCLAIMER: The Age of Apocalypse, The X-Men, Charles Xavier, and all related characters are copyrights of Marvel Comics. The Knight Eagle, in all his various iterations, as well as his teammates, is my own personal creations)
1961
Seventeen-year-old Jason McElros narrowed his eyes and slowed his breathing as he squared off against the man across from him. For the last four years, Colin McElros had located master teachers of every known martial art to school his son. At the same time, he had employed the finest scholars from around the globe to teach young Jason history, mathematics, science, and every other subject that there was a teacher for. The young man in the black gi possessed one of the best-trained minds in the world, and was one of the most formidable hand-to-hand combatants alive. All of this was nothing to Jason as he drew his focus in upon the well-built man opposite him.
"Are you prepared?" The man asked, his voice cool and collected.
"I am. Begin." Jason's almost emotionless voice answered.
The man facing Jason was the world's foremost martial artist, a man by the name of Darren Kingsolver. He had spent his entire life learning everything there was to know about combat, armed and unarmed. The last three years of his life had been spent teaching this young man everything he knew. He had succeeded. Young Jason was among the best… if not the best… martial artists in the world. He was in prime physical condition, his mind and body nearing their peak. Any other man might feel fear facing such a specimen. Darren Kingsolver did not. He had never been beaten, not in the fifteen years since he completed his training. He had faced thieves, murderers, assassins, the worst men that the world had to offer, and he had walked away unscathed. But, as always, Jason would learn from every defeat he suffered at Darren's hands, and would become stronger for it.
Darren struck first, gliding across the hardwood floor (they had long since stopped using mats) with catlike grace. He tested Jason's defenses with a snap kick at head level, easily dodged by the lithe young man. He smiled, satisfied in with his instruction of the young man. He moved in faster now, his hands and feet seemingly in a dozen places at once. Feet and fists flew at Jason from every direction, but the young man's face remained impassive. Darren was surprised at the ease with which his pupil deflected his attacks. Suddenly Jason's right hand shot out, catching Darren by surprise, and impacting directly in the center of the master's chest. The surprised teacher flew backward, slowly rolling his momentum to land on his feet. Face reddening, he raced at Jason now, instruction forgotten in the heat of humiliation. He had not been struck in years, and this impudent wretch had penetrated his defenses without so much as a blink. Anger fueled him as he delivered a staggering series of blows to Jason, driving him to one knee, until finally the young man ceded the match.
"Anger can be a weapon like any other, Jason. An angered man can be one of two things: clumsy and reckless or fiercely dangerous. Beware of both."
Darren walked away, the heat in his face dissipating, leaving Jason kneeling on the mat.
"Another valuable lesson learned at the hands of Master Kingsolver, hmm?"
Colin McElros' rich baritone voice came from a darkened corner of the dojo. The man's temples had grayed in the last few years, giving him a dignity that fit well, despite his still solidly muscled frame. The British business magnate had invested a great deal of money in his son's training, and had always been there, silently overseeing his education.
"I tried my best, sir." Jason clenched his hands around one of the bo staffs leaning against the wall. He absently spun it in his hands, moving through the combinations that had become second nature to him.
"I know you did, son. Despite my reasons for hiring him, Darren Kingsolver is a dangerous man at the top of his form. I do not expect you to be able to beat him." Colin laid a sympathetic hand on his son's shoulder. "You are doing very well, Jason. Truly, you are. I could not be prouder of you." Standing, he pulled Jason close to him and hugged him tightly. "Go get cleaned up now, you need to come with me to that board meeting."
Jason walked out of the main room as Colin watched, leaving the staff behind. Colin knelt and hefted the wooden weapon.
"Feels right, doesn't it, McElros?"
Whirling the staff in his hand, Colin spun around to find the voice that had spoken. Standing near the door where Jason had vanished only moments ago was a tall, slender man in his early fifties, dressed in dark slacks and a brown leather jacket.
"What are you doing here, Riddell?"
The man sidled closer, reaching over to the wall to grab a staff as he passed them.
"Isn't an old friend allowed to visit, Col? After all, it has been sooooo long since you and I had a good talk."
McElros watched with way eyes as Riddell circled the room, never loosing his grip on the staff.
"Whatever you want, forget it. I finished with you a long time ago."
"I told you then and I'll tell you now. We're never finished, McElros. Never. You know what it is that I want, and you will give it to me. Now."
"You have no right to it, as well you know."
"Right matters very little to me. I will have it."
"Over my dead body."
"So be it."
Without warning, Riddell leapt across the room with inhuman speed. His staff came down against Colin's with a resounding crack. McElros strained to keep his balance against the ever-increasing strength of the pressure that Riddell was applying.
"Give in, Keeper. You cannot win."
"You may possess power, Riddell, but not the wisdom to use it. You can never be allowed to wield it."
Riddell whirled, renewing his attack with violent energy. His eyes glowed blue, as did his staff as it cam down once again against Colin's. The uncharged wood splintered without any resistance, and Riddell's staff came down cleanly against McElros' head, splitting the skin.
"What did a man once say, McElros? 'Power without wisdom is dangerous, and wisdom without power is useless.' That is what you are. You are useless, and therefore have long overstayed your welcome on this plane."
Whirling his staff again, Riddell whipped it across McElros' face, sending blood and teeth flying. The injure man tried feebly to raise his hands to defend himself, but they were merely slapped away with a flick of the staff. McElros lay sprawled on the floor, Riddell poised to drive the staff home when a second staff came hurtling from the doorway. Screaming ferociously as he darted across the room, Jason leapt the length of the distance between himself and his father's assailant.
"Jason… no…" McElros wheezed from the floor. "Run…"
The boy ignored his father's whispered warnings, and his eyes took on a slight purple glow as he met Riddell blow for blow. The impassivity that his face had borne when he faced Kingsolver was gone, replaced now by an almost feral rage. He would not stop. When Riddell split the wooden staff, Jason took up the two halves and continued his assault, ever so slowly driving the bigger man back. Abruptly, Riddell ended it, leaping backwards into a guarded stance.
"I am not ready for you, stripling. Be assured, next time we meet, I will be. Until then."
Riddell vanished as a ghost, his form becoming transparent and then… nothing. Dripping in sweat, Jason dropped the staves and rushed to where his father was still laying, blood slowly dripping from the corner of his mouth.
"I have to get you to a hospital, father…"
"No Jason. He was right. I have outstayed my welcome. I am being called home. Stay the course. You have a destiny to fulfill. We shall meet again, my son. I will always be watching…"
The light in Colin McElros' eyes went out, replaced by the vacant glassy stare of death. His hand, which he had raised to Jason's cheek, dropped to the floor. Kneeling there, the young mutant wept without end.