Crimson Twilight: Dusk

Chapter 3: A Meeting of Cruel Fates

'There are few sights more glorious than Prontera.'

The thought always came to Silmeia's mind every time she looked at her home city. Prontera was the capital city of Rune-Midgard, as well as the bastion of law and security through out the land. From its beautiful monuments to its seemingly impregnable walls, the capital was considered by many to be the best place to reside throughout Rune-Midgard. She thought so too, she had seen enough to know it wasn't perfect but life anywhere else would not be as good. Still, she sometimes found the bustling city to be a bit too…stressful. This was the main reason why she often walked outside the city all by herself. She found the silence of the wilderness relaxing compared to the noisy hubbub of Prontera. All sorts of adventurers would be selling their wares in the streets; guild leaders would be fighting for territory, merchants trying to outdo each other in their businesses. She pushed these things from her thoughts. Right now all she wanted was to see was one thing.

The woods behind Prontera castle were somehow darker to Silmeia. Dark, perhaps, because her memories made it so. For underneath the trees, her own sister, Lystra, lay buried. She stood over her younger sister's grave. Lystra was just a fledgling priestess, barely out of acolyte duty. She was on her way to the pyramids when her party was ambushed by eight abysmal knights. Silmeia closed her eyes; they didn't stand a chance. An abysmal knight was a being of armored darkness that rode from someone's worst nightmares. Only the most powerful attacks had any hope of hurting it and it took so much hurting before one of them fell. She cursed the abysmal knights. Foul, mindless suits of dark armor they were. Hateful things from the madness that was Glastheim. She also blamed herself for not being there when it happened. Her friend, Makaelthos Solcry, would say that even she could not stop eight abysmal knights from claiming the life of her sister. Still, she knew that she could have at least done something. She could have slowed them down. As a radiant, she had enough power to knock them back with blasts of holy power, enough to give them pause while Lystra escaped. She would have given her own life in the process if she had too. A sudden rustling of leaves interrupted Silmeia's thoughts. There was someone else in the grove. Quickly, she readied her defensive spells. She wasn't taking any chances. All sorts of incidents had been occurring around Prontera. Bands of marauding orcs leaving their territory to ambush people, argiopes found among fabres slaying hapless novices. Indeed nearly all the creatures throughout Rune-Midgard seemed to be acting strange. She slowly approached the bushes when she noticed an outstretched arm. Alarmed, she parted the bushes to investigate.

It was a knight; at least he looked like one. The man was tall, nearly seven feet in height as far as Silmeia could tell. His armor was made of black metal and was ruined in several places. The marks on his armor appeared to have been made by a giant sword. The knight suddenly opened his eyes, catching a glimpse of her kneeling figure. "A priestess…is it fate?" He gasped out.

Before Silmeia could react, the knight closed his eyes again in a swoon. 'A knight…what could have happened to him? His armor certainly isn't the standard plate for a Pronteran knight.' she thought. Before she could assess the man further, the sound of leaves crunching and branches being pushed out of the way brought her up to her feet. Several men were running towards her.

"We've been looking for you, Second Head Priestess Cafilence!" one of the men called out to her. There were three of them, a knight and two swordsmen. She recognized the knight as Cavalier Althamas Kadrezyll, the second-in-command of Eliarainne's division. The other two must be apprentices from the same division. She cut them off before they could explain why, gesturing towards the fallen man.

"Never mind that, help me get this knight somewhere safe!" she answered. In response, Althamas gestured to his swordsmen companions, who lifted the unconscious, black-armored knight and started to carry him away. It was not an easy task, though. The swordsmen heaved and grunted in their efforts. Their burden was quite heavy.

"Ma'am, the Autumn Tournament is about to begin. Skirmisher Gardzen Haelungrein requests your presence." Cavalier Althamas spoke with marked respect. He was not just talking to any radiant, he was talking to the commander of the regular army's Second Priest Division. The division of priests directly responsible for the healing and blessing of the soldiers in the First Knight Division.

Silmeia stared at the injured knight and managed a smile. Without even knowing it, the black-armored knight had just done her a big favor. "Tell Sir Gardzen that I must tend to this man's injuries so I'll have to pass on the tournament." she told Althamas. She sighed inwardly. The black armored-knight's arrival was timely. She hated attending tournaments. They were nothing more than occasions where some of the pompous knights like Skirmisher Gardzen could strut about trying to impress people. Her brow furrowed slightly. 'Especially me, I suppose.' she thought. She knew of Gardzen's interest in her. She was not interested in return. She did not like the way he conducted himself, always bullying the swordsmen while calling it "discipline" and swaggering about the lady knights in the interests of "camaraderie". An incident involving Gardzen and her friend, Eliarainne Sialsanderin, widened the smile she had. She doubted it if he could ride his pecopeco in an upright position after that.

"I will inform him at once, ma'am." Cavalier Althamas answered. He hoisted the injured knight onto his pecopeco's back before heading back to Prontera. Silmeia took one last glance at her sister's grave before going back to the city. The injured knight shifted slightly in the saddle, adding some sadness in her smile, Rune-Midgard had become so dangerous these days.

A slight wind blew across the forest before Silmeia left. For a moment the priestess could have sworn she heard the sound of a horse's neigh. Her knight escort heard the sound too and looked around. The two swordsmen cringed at it. True horses had long since been extinct on Rune-Midgard, knights had adapted to the use of a pecopeco for a mount. The only horses that were left were nightmares, the flaming, horse-shaped specters that roamed the lower levels of ancient Geffenia, or the massive, black horses that carried abysmal knights in battle. Slowly the neigh faded into the wind and the priestess and her escorts entered the city.

Silmeia's decline of his invitation did not sit in well with Skirmisher Gardzen. The big knight made it clear when he smashed his claymore straight into his unlucky opponent's shield. The force of the attack knocked the younger knight to the ground, his arms still ringing from the powerful blow. Several acolytes immediately rushed to heal his injuries, signaling that the duel was over. 'An emergency? What kind of fool would stop her from watching my prowess? No doubt, some fool knight who couldn't handle a few lousy argoses!' he fumed.

Gardzen crushed one knight after another, easily winning the on-foot part of the tournament. He did not participate in the jousts as he was no cavalier and did not do well fighting on top of a pecopeco. Still he was angry; the trophy was meaningless if the beautiful priestess, Silmeia, was not there to watch him win it. He would have to "speak" to this fool knight about strength later on.

On the audience stands, few men wondered why Gardzen Haelungrein was so upset despite winning the tournament. Everyone knew of his lust for Radiant Silmeia, which was not strange to most of the men in Prontera. After all, she was among the most beautiful of Prontera's priestesses. Her long, silky, black hair, which reached up to her upper back made them think of night skies or some other poetic setting. Her dark brown eyes often seemed black from a distance, they were deep and possessed some qualities that intensified her emotions. Like most pronterans her skin was pale, contrasting her hair; it was unmarred by any scar or blemish, combining with a small mouth to give her a delicate look. She was no frail beauty though. She was a soldier, the head of the famed Second Priest Division in Prontera. She was known to fight side by side with mighty knights like First Knight Commander Sialsanderin, who was also her good friend. The combination of physical beauty, fighting spirit and a pleasing personality enchanted a lot of people so she drew a lot of admirers. She was clearly not interested in such things, though, and no one really wanted to confess their feelings because a rejection from her would be devastating.

To everyone except Gardzen that is. He was bold enough to "inform" the priestess of his desire for her. His blunt proposal met an equally blunt refusal. Naturally it drew a lot of snickers from behind him so he decided to "prove" himself to her with shows of might such as winning tournaments and bullying weaker knights. The latter activity was stopped when the First Knight Commander challenged him to a duel in the arena and promptly trashed him. After that, he had settled for tournaments as it was well known that Eliarainne disdained joining them. So up to the present he was still "proving" himself, though Silmeia never noticed during those rare occasions when she was watching a tournament.

Silmeia watched the black-armored knight sleeping on the bed in the infirmary. She had been surprised earlier that it took nearly all of her mental reserves to close the knight's wounds. She wondered just how strong he was to survive such a beating and how dangerous his opponent was to have given it to him. She also pondered that no one could remove the knight's armor. It was a good thing he was not wearing a helmet though, she would have found it impossible to heal someone whose skin she could not touch. The knight opened his eyes, revealing dark irises. Silmeia frowned in puzzlement; everything about the man was black; his hair, eyes and armor. His pale skin meant that he was utterly devoid of color. The knight swiftly noticed her presence.

"Priestess…you did not finish me?" he asked; confusion making him look about in a daze. The knight looked extremely bewildered. He did not rise from his bed though.

"Finish you? I am a priestess, Sir knight, not an executioner." Silmeia answered, She smiled in amusement. Perhaps the knight was still addled from his injuries.

"I…nevermind." was all he could say.

Silmeia watched the tall knight closely. There was something odd about this man. "Can you tell me your name?" she asked.

The knight closed his eyes, as if trying to remember. "Agranias." he replied. "I am an…I mean…a knight."

Silmeia laughed softly. Agranias looked at her and tried to muster a smile. "Do I…amuse you?" he asked.

Silmeia watched Agranias with a great deal of amusement this time. "I can see that you're a knight, Sir Agranias." she replied. "The metal around your body tells me that quite clearly. By the way my name is Silmeia, a priestess of course. But surely you knew that already."

Agranias looked at his black armor and tried to sit up. "I suppose…I do." he said.

Silmeia's expression became serious. "So tell me what happened, Sir Agranias. How did you get so injured so near Prontera?" she asked. The time for pleasantries was over. She was worried about the reasons why this person was injured so near the capital. Anything she could find out now would be helpful once she consulted with Makaelthos and Eliarainne.

Agranias's expression darkened as he spoke in a low voice. He could not look directly into Silmeia's dark brown eyes when he responded. "I was…attacked by my fellow knights."

Silmeia gasped in surprise. "That's awful! Why would they do that?" she asked.

Agranias tried to stand and winced painfully. Silmeia helped the knight sit down on his bed. "I disobeyed our commander." he answered as if he had done something completely terrible, or, at least, something he would have never done if he could help it. " He ordered the rest of the troop to kill me."

Silmeia's eyes narrowed. She could not imagine what sort of brutal knight commander would execute his subordinates and leave them for dead in a forest. "Tell me of your troop, Sir Agranias, and why your actions merited your death." she told him. It was no request, this was serious now. Perhaps he was part of a small company of rogue knights, people who obtained knighthood from Prontera but refused to perform their duties.

Agranias looked around the room as if searching for something. His hands fingered the empty sheath strapped to his side. Silmeia noticed his discomfort.

"Your sword is not here, Sir Agranias." she told him. "You must have lost it somewhere, I had some of the acolytes to search for it and they couldn't find any."

Agranias's eyes suddenly stopped to gaze on a portrait of Lystra and Silmeia. An admiring artist had agreed to paint it and the rest of the acolytes insisted on hanging it in the infirmary in honor of their hardest working healers. "That priestess!" he suddenly gasped. "Is she-?"

Silmeia frowned slightly. She hadn't expected this reaction. "She is my sister, Lystra, you knew her?"

Agranias's eyes widened in realization for a moment before he quickly concealed his expression. "No…though she seems familiar somehow."

Silmeia smiled and let it go for now as she studied Sir Agranias. To her, the black-armored knight seemed so…unused to having a conversation. He stumbled on his words and he seemed so worried of what he was going to say next. He noticed her stare and shifted uncomfortably. He was obviously unused to such attention from someone. She was curious about his comment on her sister. Could he have known her? Perhaps he was a surviving member of Lystra's party, though the reports failed to mention a knight. Perhaps he could remember what happened at that time, though why he tried to hide it was beyond her. "My sister-" she began.

Agranias looked at the portrait and turned hesitantly to Silmeia.

"What was her name?" Agranias suddenly interrupted her with the question.

Silmeia's expression saddened and the smile disappeared from her lips. "Lystra." she answered. "She's dead though."

Agranias's eyes suddenly filled with intense regret. Something Silmeia definitely found strange. "I'm sorry." he said.

Silmeia cleared her mind of her sister's memories. Now was not the time to mourn. She had spent so much grief on her loss already. The time for sadness was over, all she wanted was some measure of vengeance; an assurance that Lystra's loss was not in vain. "There is no need, Sir Agranias. Please tell me of your troop." she told him.

Agranias hesitated some more. Silmeia saw clearly that he didn't want to reveal something about himself. She took the moment to study him. The knight was definitely tall, with broad shoulders and a powerfully built body to match. His long, black hair was swept back and tied in a pony tail which reached all the way to the middle of his back. His face possessed some delicate features, as if carefully chiseled from marble, though the scar running down the left side of his face was clearly a mark of a warrior. By the time Sir Agranias decided to speak, he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Silmeia let out a sigh. She was not expecting any visitors so it could only be one man. Sure enough, one of Silmeia's acolytes came rushing towards her. "Second Head Priestess, it is Skirmisher Gardzen. He asks to see you at once and he-" Before the acolyte could finish, Skirmisher Gardzen entered the room.

"Silmeia, I demand to-! Who the hell are you?" Gardzen bellowed the question out as his gaze focused on Agranias. Silmeia grit her teeth in frustration and braced for the worst.

World notes

Skirmisher - Skirmishers are knights who are trained to fight in much lighter armor as to be more mobile than cavaliers. Instead of a lance and a shield, they carry massive two-handed swords. It is their role in the army to plunge into the holes that the cavaliers create in the enemy's lines and attack the soldiers in the enemy army's rear. They lack the protective abilities of cavaliers but they make up for it with sheer offensive power. They can move quickly through enemy ranks, cutting them down before reinforcements from the front can reach them. It is their job to ensure that the enemy army's archers and spell casters are killed before they do much harm. Due to the nature of their role, they also work with the rare rogue or assassin who has joined the regular army.

In game explanation: Skirmishers are AGI-based knights with skills in Two-hand quicken and the like.