The wind that howled through the desert town was the harbinger of yet another sand storm. For the fourth time in six days, a cloud of yellow opacity melded the heavens and the earth, and all that remained distinguishable were the hollow windows and doors of long abandoned buildings, which stood yawning against the fury of the elements and beckoned the wearied traveler toward their dark confines.
As the residents scurried to their respective hovels, a heavily cloaked figure hunted the streets, attempting to engage, with utter futility, the attention of others.
"Excuse me sir, have you…"
The shrunken man did not even look at the picture Ky held out in his hand. Ducking easily under the knight's outstretched arm, the man sped by without breaking a pace and quickly disappeared into a dark alley before Ky could even finish his question.
"How rude…"
Turning halfway around, Ky spotted a shrouded figure that was approaching with surprising rapidity despite an apparent limp. Ky held Sol's picture ready as he paced to intercept the pedestrian. Giving himself more of a chance, he launched his inquiry while still yards away.
"Excuse me, I know you're in a hurry, but this won't take long. I'm a police officer and I'm looking for…"
As Ky drew closer, his eyes met with those of a middle-aged woman. In response to his words, the lady had returned a look of neither interest nor disregard, but a stare of such emptiness that Ky, for the few seconds that he had made contact with those hollow sights, had so lost himself in their desperate voids that he could not continue his speech.
"…that….I….uh…"
As the knight stammered to scramble his thoughts, the woman brushed past him and was soon swallowed by the thickening sand cloud.
A full minute after the woman disappeared, Ky breathed a deep sigh, partly of disappointment, and partly of relief.
"What is wrong with this town!"
He wondered aloud as he scanned his surroundings, finally becoming aware of the fact that only he has not yet secured a shelter in the face of the approaching storm.
The hectic search for an informant now turned into a frantic quest for a house as Ky scoured the streets for four walls and a roof. To his dismay, however, the majority of structures lacked one or more of the five vital components, and those that possessed all were securely protected by heavy, wooden doors.
"Good citizens! I am an officer of the law. Please open this door now!"
Ky paused between his sentences to pound his fist against the sturdy board.
"Please open at this moment! I am an officer of the law!"
The wind was rapidly drowning out Ky's voice. The raging gust screamed so loud that the knight felt his hand landing against the door, but heard almost no sound. If the resident did not allow him entry soon, Ky feared that he would be overwhelmed by the storm, unable to even hear his own pleas.
The door remained shut.
Backing away from the stubborn guardian, Ky tightened the straps of his coat and tucked his chin deep into his collars. Holding one hand over his crude mask and wrapping his other arm around the front of his torso, Ky squinted into the dusty clouds, hoping to distinguish some form or structure.
"…!"
At first Ky was unsure of his discovery. The silhouette appeared to be wafting between a state of visibility and one of obscurity. Knowing that the wind was not making his attempt any easier, Ky hastened toward his target, fiercely squinting into the belching sands as not to lose his way. To his relief, his find was not a hallucination, and was materializing gradually with every painful step.
"Almost there…"
The wind was howling so hard that Ky needed to lean a full thirty degrees against the onslaught in order to maintain his course. Even his eye lashes were insufficient protection now. Gathering his coat as best as he could with his left arm, Ky stretched his right hand before him and closed his eyes as he marched, and prayed.
Thump
Ky felt a fleeting moment of surprise as he made solid contact—with his foot.
"Waaahh…"
The knight had little time to think as he lifted his legs frantically, trying to catch up to the momentum his tripped foot had set loose. Stumbling wildly up the stony steps, Ky was an awkward sight of flailing arms and unwieldy legs. Steps, however, don't usually continue indefinitely, and often end at an entrance of sorts.
Boom
Ky was rudely reminded of this fact.
The rich, hollow sound of the struck door reverberated in perfect synchronization with the pain that was coursing through Ky's head.
"Gagh…."
The knight winced as he slowly climbed to his feet and pushed the heavy doors ajar. Physical exertion with a head injury never helps the pain, but the finding shelter is his first priority.
Squeezing tightly between the heavy doors, Ky pushed himself into the somber chamber, escaping at last the furious desert winds. To the wearied man, the chambers of the church, however dark, were far more inviting than the breath of the blasted lands.
Stumbling into a corridor, he hugged the nearest pillar and breathed deep sighs of relief. Quickly Ky took off his over coat, pounds heavier with sand, and shook off much of the dust. It was an interesting sight, to say the least, as the knight practically unburied himself. When the sands have at last dissipated, it was as if he had emerged, reborn, from a cloud of lazy vapors.
"Thank goodness."
As the sands settled to the stony floor, the calmness of the church, too, drifted into Ky's consciousness. He was able to see his surroundings better, now that he has had time to adjust to the dimness of the chamber, and he noticed that a corridor laid waiting before him.
Gathering his belongings, Ky stepped into the hall, hoping to find another soul.
"Hello? Is anyone here?"
The only stirring was the ghostly chatter of echoes. Moments after the knight's words were uttered, his voice was returned from many dark corners. Overlapping and interchanging, the echoes orchestrated a barrage of haunting emulations before gradually yielding to the prevailing silence.
Accordingly, Ky decided not to repeat his latest outcry.
As he continued along the corridor, he noticed that the pillars were crafted in a style that was as strangely gothic as it was beautiful. It took a few minutes of recollection for the knight to put his fingers on the cause of his feelings of familiarity. Over a decade ago, when he was still training as a young scribe, Ky had served in the library of a prominent art collector. In his moments of leisure he, like many of the other young scribes, browsed through the only volumes that offered accompanying pictures—the architectural archives. It was there that he had first seen the elaborate carvings that adorned the pillars before his eyes. However, if he remembered correctly, the books he had read were documentations of the age of humanity that occurred before the Great War, and that could only mean…
"!"
As suddenly as the veil of darkness was lifted before his eyes, Ky was greeted by a sight most impressive. In his ponderings he had wondered through a long passage of stone pillars and now stood squarely beneath the vaulted threshold of an enormous hall.
The gothic arcs that braced the ceilings curved like ivory ribs into solid stone walls. Running full length along every rafter were reliefs of fabled warriors and priests. Small, yet intricately detailed gargoyles perched atop classic-cut pillars. The stones were well sanded and felt slightly inferior to marble upon Ky's fingers. Stalwart yet neatly sized, ageless limestone blocks formed the massive walls that held firmly in place, some twenty feet above the floor, magnificent stained glass windows that immortalized characters unknown in gloriously gothic hues. The light that streamed through them was filtered by the sandy storm, and covered everything in a dim, golden glow. Upon the center stage, against a backdrop of an enormous cross, stood an elaborate grand organ. The faultless brass organ pipes, several stories tall and wider than a man, reached straight into the ceiling like bony fingers, silently hailing the young knight's arrival.
Everything was perfect; from the absolute stillness to the obscure light, the sanctuary stood utterly defiant of time and space. Within its confines, death marked the celebration of an eternity and faded glory bathed in its own radiance of simmering, golden opacity.
Taken by this haunting beauty, Ky's voice forced his will.
"A grand cathedral…"
As he had suspected, the place was ancient indeed. He had knowledge of such a structure only because he remembered it being chronicled in the architectural archives as the pinnacle of the Old Age zeal.
"Amazing, isn't it?"
Like an unreal materialization of his own imagination, a voice resounded from a source unknown.
Spinning wildly around, Ky sought the owner of those words. The vast chamber, however, has easily rendered his efforts useless with its echoes, and all the knight saw were the grinning eyes of spying gargoyles.
"Who was that? Identify yourself!"
From the way Ky danced in circles, it was clear that the knight was not used to speaking to invisible beings.
"Hmm…Are you sure you want to know?"
The voice half chuckled with a tone of mild amusement.
"In the name of the law, I order you to show yourself!"
The name of the law didn't really mean much for all the criminals Ky has encountered, but, as an officer, it was his duty.
"Oh? An officer of the law."
There was a slight pause.
"Tell me…officer…how do you intend to confront a man you cannot see?"
Like the hunter before the prey, it was obvious who held the cards long before the chase even began.
"I…I will find you. You can't hide!"
"Hahahahahahahaha."
Clearly Ky's demands were not taken seriously.
"Proclaiming justice, when you don't even know my name. You are about as naïve as they come."
"Don't be so quick to judge me stranger. Face me like a man!"
Ky's words provoked yet another string of laughter. When the echoes have settled, the voice that returned made no attempt to conceal the contemptuous taunt in its tone.
"What if…officer…I am not a man?"
"!..."
Ky had no ready answer for the question for which he had no ready prediction. His mind was barraged by his own fears and doubts as he twirled around, attempting, yet again in vain, to catch the mysterious speaker.
Crack
The crisp, sharp snap of fingers shot through the thick tension and galvanized Ky's stressed nerves. Guided more by reflex than will, the knight spun toward the sound and stared into the lofty ceilings where the disturbance clearly took place.
There, perched atop a broad beam, was a neatly dressed man. The pressed pants and aristocratic blazers were completely wrinkle-free in their grey hued impeccability. The shiny shoes that peeked over the edge of the beam reflected even the yellow dimness of the room. It was difficult to see the details of his shirt from Ky's distance, but judging from the sharp contrast his collars and cuffs made against his suit Ky knew that the man sported a classic white dress shirt. Almost everything about the man, from the leather soles to the round spectacles, radiated an aura of conservative nobility; the only exceptional features were unconventionally forward style in which he wore his hair and the large, strange tie which, of all things, seemed to resemble an 18th century French royalty cross.
"Good boy."
With the words barely settled in the air, the man had disappeared. Ky could swear that he saw a shadowy cape swallowing the man in the blink of an eye.
Tzzzz
Turning immediately around to face the sudden noise, the knight discovered that the man had, somehow, teleported to an empty bench some 10 feet away and was leisurely holding a burning match to the seasoned hickory pipe that dangled from his lips.
"How…!"
The man did not even look at Ky's bewildered face as he drew in the aroma of aged tobacco. As he exhaled, he gave the knight a lazy glance out of the corner of his eye.
"Who are you?"
Ky had taken his hint and changed the course of his inquiry.
"Good. Introductions first."
Standing up, the mysterious man squarely faced Ky. Although not of a physically impressive stature, there was something about him that commanded an undeniable aura of authority.
"My name is Slayer."
Placing his right hand over his belt, the man made a polite nod.
"I am Officer Ky Kiske."
The knight did not try to replicate Slayer's strange bow.
"Very good. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Although, I must say, there are fewer and fewer of your kind making their rounds."
As he spoke, Slayer leaned back against a pillar and slid his left hand into his pocket.
"My kind?"
"Crusaders. You are one of them are you not?"
"Yes…well…yes."
"Why are you so hesitant?"
"Well, it's a long story."
"Hmm…"
Slayer had paused, but did not seem disengaged by Ky's disinterest.
"May I then ask of you the permission to share this story? It just so happens that I am a keen collector of history; please do forgive my blunt intrusion."
With a half sigh, Ky relaxed his shoulders and seated himself upon a near-by bench.
"Well, I was initiated into the Sacred Order of Holy Knights several years ago during the Great War. We were the defenders of humanity, and we fought the gear commander Justice, who threatened to annihilate mankind with his gear army."
Ky paused a moment and looked to the windows, as if remembering the past moments of battle.
"It was a difficult war. The gears had long overrun the weak human defenses. The technology that man had come to depend upon could not stop the terrifying weapons that were born of its own cradle. So many have died…"
Ky's voice trailed off as he lowered his eyes.
"But…we held our ground. We were the last hope, and we could not afford to lose. My mentor, Kilff Underson, was the commander of the knights, and he had found a way to fight back. The gears may have been perfected by technology, but they knew little of the ways of magic. The brotherhood had been the sworn protectors of the archaic practices of the occult so that no one may harness energy so beyond mortal comprehension and resistance that it had been termed "magic." The answer, you see, was precisely this magic. Although the gears had been perfected by human technology, they could not compare to the powers that defied reason. The Holy Knights, like myself, trained in these practices, and we were able to harness the energy and secure victory with weapons of legendary strength."
"Bravo!"
Slayer's tone was a tad insincere. It was as if he held a less optimistic view for the knights' glorious victory.
"I'm sorry for the interruption, please continue."
He quickly caught himself and extended his apology with a slight smile. Ky didn't seem to mind.
"After Justice's defeat, much of the Earth lied in smoldering rubble, and we knew that our work was far from being done. Rallying our forces, we became the enforcers of civilization, and helped rebuild and restore order to the ruined nations. The Sacred Order was disbanded to facilitate this process, and I, along with other crusaders, put away our war attire and became uniformed policemen."
At this point Slayer raised his eyebrows slightly.
"Officer, if I may ask, why is it then that you now don the armor of a crusader?"
Ky made a subconscious examination of his clothes before replying.
"That…is the reason for my earlier uncertainty. Recently, one of our outposts was attacked. I…could not stop the perpetrators…but I did discover the reason for their attack. For security reasons, I cannot spare every detail, but it's suffice to say that time has proven to be a greater enemy than Justice ever was! I must stop it before it's too late, and that's why I travel again as a crusader. Even so, I now face stronger foes, and I can only pray that I will unlock the might of the ancient weapons…"
"Like the one at your side?"
Slayer gestured toward the hilt of Thunderseal that was jutting forth from Ky's belt.
"Yes. This sword is one of the greatest treasures of the Order. It's name is Thunderseal, and it is the essence of the bolts that sear heaven and earth. There are others like this one. Among them, Dragonslayer, a great blade capable of killing a dragon in one strike, was the gift given to my mentor Kilff Underson for his loyalty and service to the brotherhood. Another, Fireseal, was rumored to have been forged in the heart of the Earth, and thus carried the burning passion of cosmic scales. But it was…stolen…"
"Oh? How is it that the Order could stop Justice but failed to guard its most sacred treasures?"
"The Order did not fail! What failed was the heart of men. It was no ordinary thief that took Fireseal. It was a fallen knight, a brother who could not resist the corruption of power, that took the sword to satisfy his greed…Here."
Ky held out a picture of Sol.
"That is the man, the criminal. It is to find him that I embarked upon this journey. Please, do you have any clues as to his whereabouts?"
As Slayer gazed slowly at the picture, his expression changed not in the slightest.
"You seek him to recover your sword?"
"No, I seek him because he holds the answers to my questions."
"Hmm…"
Slayer took a long look at the young man before him. He knew the knight had the determination to pursue his quest, and that is why he must reply.
"Seek no further, crusader, for you are not ready."
Ky was stunned.
"Not…ready…?"
"And even if you were to find Sol, you would only be doing yourself a disservice."
"How do you know his…"
"Goodbye knight, when you wake up, you will do as I say, if you truly wish to serve mankind."
The light hit Ky's eyes even before the sound propagated through the room. In what could not have been more than a flash, the figures before him leapt through vast frames of motion and slowed finally to allow the knight to see that the man who was casually standing before him some nanoseconds ago was now bent forwards, his fist extended the full length of his arm and blocked from view by a gigantic blade. In that fraction of a blink of an eye, Ky felt that time had slowed down as he observed the air around Slayer's striking arm rippled in propagation, distorting even the passage of light in its wake.
Boom
The small sonic boom that followed Slayer's mach punch violently blew time into normal passage. As Ky squinted against the sudden burst of air current, he saw clearly what had happened.
Slayer had aimed directly for Ky's stomach. The punch, faster than even the speed of sound, would have solidly knocked the knight into an unconscious state without him even having the time to close his eyes. However, Slayer's opponent had been one step faster and had stubbornly halted the attacker's fist behind the broad blade of Dragonslayer.
Slayer stood up and adjusted his blazer, it seemed that smashing his knuckles at supersonic speed into imbued steel dazed the man not in the slightest.
Kliff, too, retracted his weapon.
"What you say is true."
The old man spoke with surprising resonance.
"But to send him back would be a true mistake."
Standing straight, Kliff was a good foot shorter than the blade he held, but his eyes exuded such piercing vigor that even the legendary Dragonslayer shone but a timid declaration of strength in comparison.
"Kliff…!"
Ky, thoroughly confused, barely managed to utter the name of his mentor before he was stopped in mid speech by the open palm Kliff suddenly directed toward his position.
Without even looking at Ky, Kliff continued to address the bespectacled gentleman.
"Slayer, you have the gift of immortality, but have you lived so long as to have become blind to the nobility of mortals."
Slayer's right hand was rising slowly to meet his face. He knew what was coming.
"This boy," Kliff pointed toward Ky, "is sincere in his desire to serve. It was not simply his strength that defeated Justice, but his will; his will had bound the mighty Thunderseal to his side. Do you honestly believe that for him hope should shine no more?"
Slayer's face was in his right hand and his elbow rested on his waist. The lecture was going into full swing.
"When you were but a young one, you, too, had ambitions, and you, too, had desires to fulfill. When you came to me for guidance and for forgiveness, I never failed to show you His Grace. No one should ever be forgotten and no request should ever be denied an audience. You, of all people, should know this."
Slayer patiently pursed his lips.
"When you founded the Guild, you had made it your mission to train the talents of gifted ones into good service. You gave them confidence in their abilities; you taught them finesse in their skills, above all, you nurtured their will and helped them define the purpose of their struggles."
Kliff paused as he redirected his finger from Ky to Slayer.
"You gave them hope."
Slayer was now scratching his beard while admiring the ceiling.
"How can then you deny it to this brilliant soul! It is your obligation, your duty, to teach him the will of the strong and…"
"…and show him the path of the righteous."
Slayer's booming words brought the ageless motto to its conclusion.
"I did not mean disrespect by interrupting, but I had hoped to clear up one thing before you continued for…well…unbearable lengths."
Slayer looked at the two men before him, making sure he had their full attention before continuing.
"I intended to train this young knight. He had proven his integrity when he had responded with truth and sincerity to my inquiries. All I needed…" he had paused to gesture to a distant wall, "…was for you, my old friend, to lend me your authority."
Ky peeked anxiously at Kliff.
"What does he mean, father?"
"What I mean, crusader, is that the time has come for you to learn the truth. Old man, you heard our conversation, you know what he has seen. He has stumbled upon a most guarded secret, and it's now vital that he learns its entirety."
"You," Slayer turned to Ky, "will face dangers the likes of which you've never seen, and you must know the truth about the enemy you face before you challenge the course of destruction. However, I could not expect you to believe a stranger, so I invited you old mentor out of his cozy little alcove."
"You've been…following me?"
The confused knight directed his question toward the old man.
"Yes," Kliff said with a slight sigh, "when I saw what happened at that outpost, I knew you had found that file; so I hurried to trace you steps, hoping to catch you in time. When I lost my way in the sand storm, I come to this old church. I didn't know you, too, were here, but when I arrived, I saw you conversing with Slayer, so I decided to listen before intruding."
Slayer held his hands up with a slight smile.
"Excellent. We're answering questions already. Now, tell us what you know already, crusader, and we will grant you knowledge."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know people probably wanted to see what happened with Sol, I was dying to keep writing about him, too, but Ky will come into play, and I needed to devote some time to him to help clear up some plot. Some big revealers are just around the corner, but, of course, that won't be everything… Anyways, I wonder how many people actually read this, am I going too slow or something? Can people at least comment and just say "I read this" so I know I'm getting some readership? I had envisioned the story to be fun, action packed, but also containing a dose of thought, a look into the minds of warriors who carried outstanding burdens. It would've been easier if I made it totally plot and fights and people going crazy, but then it would be meaningless to me. I hope you can bear with me; I promise that some good stuff will be come up! Thanks to Illuminet, who's been consistently commenting. You keep me going. I just really hope others will join in, too. Few words can mean so much…sob
