"Let's see," he said to himself. "What's the nearest village?"
God, he was ready to go back home and get some rest. Tonight, he would be content if he could find the closest town and get some sleep before heading back to Paris. But seeing in this dark was near impossible.
"I can't make anything out. Is this a village?" He squinted his eyes at a penned square, but with the light, it was almost impossible to make it out what it really was. He bit his tongue as he tried to focus. He could barely even see the dark triangular sketches trees that made up the markings of the Black Forest.
He picked his head up, looked back down on the map, then picked his head up again. Well, he could always keep following the trail until he found one of the villages he passed before he found the path to the Black forest. If he could wait that long. Camping out in the woods was out of the question, not with that thing in the woods. He wasn't up to another confrontation.
He moaned and let his head lower until his chin nearly touched his chest. He didn't even mind the strain at the back of his neck. He just couldn't bring himself to keep his head up anymore. Or his eyes open.
He must have fell asleep only a few minutes by the time he heard something in the woods. The moment it registered in his ears and into his brain, he snapped his head up and suddenly recollected his grip on Furaiken balanced across his lap. His other hand squeezed the reins and the map.
His mind quickly focused and listened as something moved through the woods behind him, but it sounded too big to be a harmless deer or fox. It moved fast, with branches, twigs and bushes breaking under its feet. A four footed creature, heavy it sounded. And he didn't like it. He turned his head to see a few bushes give and collapse to the ground, all the while it moved towards him.
Then, more branches broke on the other side of him, ahead this time. He snapped his attention towards the sound. This one's gait seemed slower than the other's, like a stalking cat, careful how it placed itself. But it never stopped.
Slowly, those sounds came closer to him. And then—he heard laughter. It was different than the strange howl he heard. It sounded like a woman's high pitched cackle. It even sounded like it was coming from the air above the trees. He looked up, but saw nothing.
He shook his head and turned his head back over his shoulder again to the thing coming after him from behind. It was getting closer, while saplings and bushes were plowed over in its wake. And the other—
His heart began pounding in his chest. His grip around Furaiken tightened. He was falling into an ambush.
"Shit. Surrounded."
He looked over his shoulder over and over, but fighting began to sound like the second thing he wanted to do. Just what would he be fighting? Could it be true that this place was haunted?
His grip around Indigo's reins tightened and he booted him into a run. But he didn't run him straight into the path of the other, he bolted into the woods, just cutting across the one behind him. He passed a quick glance over his shoulder, but he didn't see anything pursuing him. All he saw were the sight of falling trees and bushes just like he had seen from the path. There was no creature, just air. It was as if the woods were alive and chasing him.
He snapped his head back around and continued through the woods, holding tight to Indigo. His face was assaulted by fingers of branches and the wind as the horse flew through the woods. He had to duck a few branches that came at his head like an outstretched hand. He kept his knees close to the stallion's body, his hand holding tight to the reins and—
He felt the fragile, half crumpled paper of the map slip out from under his hand and fly into the air. He couldn't even spare the moment to attempt to catch it; it was already too vain to try. "Shit!" he grumbled through his teeth, but soon turned his head forward again.
His ears were filled with the sound of Indigo's hooves pounding the ground and the snapping of branches and trees behind him. He couldn't bring himself to look behind him again. He didn't want to see how close the thing was to touching him. Thankfully, Indigo was fast enough to keep out of its reach. He may have been a retired war horse, but he was still fast as he had always been. If he could face a Gear, he could carry his rider from this evil.
Past his horse's head, he saw the ground dip, making it seem it was a sheer drop. "Indy—"
It was too late to pull back. Indigo made the plunge and galloped down a slope almost full speed. He instinctively leaned back and pressed the balls of his feet into the stirrups harder. His knees squeeze the horse's body, trying to keep himself planted in his saddle while the stallion headed for the bottom. Indigo leapt for the ground, jolting his light rider.
He suddenly felt his body falling forward, his hands and knees struggling to hang on, but the violent movement caught him off guard. The last thing he knew, he was falling to the ground, into a half tumble. He landed on his side, with pain shooting up his hip to his legs.
He had never dropped Furaiken on the fall. It was still clenched in his hand, as if waiting to defend its owner. As soon as he found himself in one piece still, he turned his head up to the woods. He waited for the trees to come crashing down after him, but it never did. The woods sat there in silence.
He laid there a moment, waiting, watching it until he sat up. He never took his eyes off the woods atop that hill.
When his hand touched the ground, his fingers took in its texture. It was stony like a paved road. He looked down and ran his gloved hand against the ground, feeling the individual stones shifting and rolling upon one another.
"A road," he muttered, then looked up at his horse which stood a few paces from him. It almost seemed too coincidental that they come upon the road like this that would deter whatever was in the woods to stop chasing them. It almost seemed as if Indigo knew it would be their only barrier.
He stared up at the woods looming above him, making sure it would stay motionless before he stood up, shaking his head. He knew Indigo was smart, but he didn't want to push it. He brushed himself off before he made his way to the stallion.
He took him by the reins. "Well, at least we're out of those woods." He patted his hand against the stallion's muscular neck, then cast his eyes down the road. What was the saying? All roads lead to somewhere. And he had a feeling this one would lead him to town. Eventually. His hands took a hold of the horn, and hoisted himself back onto the saddle. A quick sharp pain shot down the side of his leg a moment before it settled back down.
"Let's get out of here," he sighed and guided the stallion down the road.
------
The road lead him to town within an hour, with him dozing off here and there. He was as wide awake as he could get by the time he reached the town's gates. But something seemed odd. The gates were closed. He found himself staring at the heavy wooden gates a moment before he craned his head back and looked up towards the posts above it. There were torches glowing above, giving the postmasters (as they were normally called by the Holy Knights) and him the only source of light against the dead of the night. But why were the torches burning?
He guided Indigo closer to the gate doors and positioned himself until he was right beside it. He then knocked his fist against the gate as hard as he could. "Hello? Anyone here? Is anyone here?" He stared up at the posts on each side of the gate, staring at the flames of the torches.
No one appeared, leaving the young man to stick his fingers into his mouth and whistle.
"Hello? Anyone!"
The sharp noise finally stirred one of the postmasters. He saw the one on the right lean down from his post, his body highlighted by the torch, but he couldn't make out any details. He did however see a quiver pack strapped across his shoulder. He watched how he looked down on him, then looked over to the other man in the other post, who made his appearance once he saw his partner point him out. "Hey, there's a rider down there."
"You better not come in here." the other said. "Turn back if you know what's good for you."
Indigo shifted from under him, but he kept the stallion in position. "Why's that? Is your town in lock down?"
"Yeah," the one on the left said. "There's a Gear in here. We've been in lock down for a few hours now."
His heart jumped. Had he been wrong about his assumption? "A Gear? Open your gates! Let me help you." He backed Indigo up with a signal of his reins, letting the men above him get a better look at him, hoping they would see him as the warrior he was. He then raised his arm over his head that held Furaiken, with the blade going several feet over his head. He then sent a charge of his magic through the sacred weapon, lighting the white blade and the air around it with the electricity. It became his own torch.
He watched how the men leaned over their posts at him and his magnificent sword. They stared in awe for a few seconds before passing each other glances. It didn't take them long to make their decision.
"Sure, sure! Come in!" the one on the right said. "But we won't be held responsible if anything happens to you."
He smiled up at the man. "Don't worry. I can handle a Gear."
It's probably disoriented and confused, he said to himself.
He watched the right postmaster step down his post and out of sight behind the large gates. The other watched him from above while his partner made his way back down to the surface and began to unhinge the bar from the other side of the gate. He listened as the man grunted as he slid the bar back with all his strength, then began to slide one side of the gate open enough for a man to pass though. It was far enough for a man his size, but—
He stared back at the older man through the gap. He must have been somewhere in his late thirties, with a grizzled face and gray speckled in his beard. "I need enough space so my horse can fit, too. I'm not leaving him out here."
The man sighed at his request, but obeyed his wish, thankfully. "Alright, hang on." He ducked behind the gate while he pulled the door open a bit more. Slowly, it gaped more until it was wide enough for Indigo to fit through. He guided the horse through, watching his knees so they wouldn't smack against the wooden gate and leave a good bruise. He squeezed them in, just barely getting through.
By the time he and Indigo passed through, the postmaster closed it behind him, grunting, straining, and slid the bar back over the front of the gate. He saw the man sweating when he turned back around, leaning on the gate, his heels dug into the ground.
"Alright?" he asked him.
"Yeah," the man said and wiped his sleeve across his brow. "I just hadn't done that in a while. I guess I'm not twenty anymore." He laughed.
He smiled in return, but soon turned his head to look at the town. The buildings and homes were quiet and darkened against the ambient, nearly every window blackened in the void. No one was in the streets. It was quiet, too quiet for his liking. It reminded him all too much of the Crusades.
"Kind of reminds you of the old days, huh?"
The man's voice nearly jolted him out of his thoughts. He turned his head around and looked at him.
"We even rang the bells when it started. A boy came over here and said to ring the bells, that a Gear was in the town. This was several hours ago. There's hunters here, but I guess they haven't caught it yet." The postmaster pushed himself off the gate. "You know, I even heard that another Knight came through here today."
His eyes widened. "What?"
"Yeah. I heard that someone dressed in a Sacred Order outfit like yours came in here around the time the Gear did. Maybe he was looking for the Gear, too. But I don't know, I hadn't seen him." The man shrugged.
"Someone of the Order?" he mused aloud. "But why would anyone be wearing something of the Order?"
"Maybe you should ask yourself that," the postmaster said and pointed a finger at him, chuckling lightly. It made him look down on himself, down on the uniform he had yet to retire. There were some occasions that he did wear it, occasions like these, where the armor was needed and the sense of authority. Sometimes a Gear would recognized the outfit—
He just passed the man a nervous grin before turning his head back around. "I'll help you get this Gear. It'll be over soon, then your people can rest easy."
Then maybe I can, too.
He soon started into the silent town, slowly heading into the heart of it. His senses took in everything, his body feeling and watching every moment, his ears tuned to any sounds finding its way to him. He watched a few darkened windows watching him like dull, empty sockets of a skull. Not a living being stirred or dared to come out of hiding. It reminded him all too much of the Crusades— It was eerie.
The streets was hushed at the witness of him. It felt like ghosts inhabited the town than men and women, and the postmasters had never been real. The only sound that he heard was the sound of Indigo's hooves clopping against the road under him. His eyes burned for the sight of someone, a voice, a glimpse, anything—
His eyes did begin to burn. Something in the distance was burning. A small light. A torch.
He squinted his eyes as he saw it, just a small glimpse of bright light at the corner of a building. The body holding it was blocked by the wall. A small, weak smile began to cross his lips as he began to see a hint of civilization. Bodies in the street. Live men.
He guided Indigo towards them. As he moved towards that light, he heard a man shout from his side, "Hey! There he is! There's the Gear!"
He turned his head to his left down into an alley where a man was standing, pointing a finger towards him. Thinking he was pointing to an hidden enemy, he quickly turned his head around, trying to spot some beast, but he saw nothing.
"The Gear! The Gear!"
"What are you—" he began, but soon turned his attention forward again as he saw a group begin to make their way towards him, in a full run. There must have been at least fifteen of them by the time they neared him. Many of them were armed. There were burning torches, axes, maces, blades and even arrows within the group. They surrounded him, but he didn't find any hospitality among their faces or body language.
"It's the Gear! Kill him!"
"What?" he muttered as he looked among them.
"Get 'im!"
The man who shouted those words seemed to sound the attack. They began to swarm him, raising their weapons, some even makeshift. Their hands grabbed for him, trying to pull him off of Indigo. The stallion shifted, and his rider fought back, shoving them as they tried to grab him, even his arm that held the fantastic Outrage.
"Get off me!" he screamed.
He kicked one right square in the head.
"I'm a police officer!"
The men continued to attempt to pull him off his horse, though. One had a rather good grip around his right arm that held his sword. Oh God, he couldn't let that man ply it from his hand— He pulled on his reins, trying to keep his horse steady. He had been swarmed by Gears before, but never by men.
"That's what you say," one said to him. He was right beside him, looking up at him. "First you're a Holy Knight, now you're a police officer. Make up your mind what you want to masquerade yourself as, Gear."
"I'm not a Gear!" he shouted and kicked the man across the face. The force threw the man to the ground, holding his face. He saw blood.
He soon turn his attention away from the man. He knew he couldn't waste anymore time here, not around all these armed men. He didn't want to hurt anyone, even if he had possibly broken one man's nose. Well, he brought that on himself. He was going to fight back, not act like a pacifist.
He firmly planted both feet into his stirrups and thrust his heels against Indigo's flanks. He braced himself as the bay stallion lunged forward, his ears pinned as he forced a path for them both. The horse plowed over a few men and forced his muscular body past the others. The men still attempted to attack him, raising their weapons, shouting. One even hit him against the knee with something, a baton or a staff maybe. A sharp pain ran across the bone of his knee, but he didn't care about the pain at all. All he worried about was getting the hell away from that mob.
He looked over his armored shoulder at them as he fled, with those torches looking less menacing the farther he distanced himself from them. He pulled right on the reins and guided Indigo into an alley. He moved fast through the streets, the wind hitting his scratched face.
He ran a good few minutes, and soon found the streets empty again in another sector of the town. He pulled Indigo to a walk, where he leapt off the stallion's back and landed skillfully on his feet. His body protested against the feat but didn't fail him. His body was too young and well taken care of to start protesting yet. He had a few years until then.
He pointed a finger over to the side as he began to run past the stallion, and commanded, "Away, Indy." He left the horse to roam on himself. It would make a good diversion to that mob who were still looking for him. They would chase after Indigo while he could try to make sense of his nonsense.
The horse did as told and wandered off into he streets, while the rider slipped into another alley to hide himself from any eyes that would recognize him. But someone did.
Just as he neared the end of the alley, a figure ran into sight across from him, halting in his tracks the moment he saw him. He stopped with his feet spread to catch himself. The officer stopped as well, but the one across from him wasn't what he was expecting. He looked like no villager here. The man was dressed in a dark Holy Order uniform. His hair was a dark mahogany, but maybe it was a light brown; he couldn't tell much by the limited light. But as his eyes focused on his face, something didn't seem right.
The mahogany-haired man stared at him more like a criminal being caught in the act than a fellow man of the Order.
"Shit!"