Zach Skye

Chapter 248: Elevator Party

Chapter 248: Elevator Party


You have our vow to support you in the coming troubles, just as we will find you to be stalwart allies in ours.


To a healthy future, and secure wastes.


-Arch-Magi Chairman Trellis, To King Crisimus (3rd Era, 308)


King Crisimus looked over the report in his hand. This was something he'd been looking for—an actionable item. All of the players were in their spots; his setups had been calculated, and new alliances were still firming up. As far as he could see, the board was in the perfect position to make the move he’d prepared for the last year. Even before then, really.


Mankind wasn't meant for this. They weren't meant to hide away in caves. They weren't meant to lurk deep within the confines of the earth, scared to crawl the surface for the monsters that lurked up above and the rifts that opened into different worlds and let loose beasts which had no right to belong in their reality. For too long, he'd sat on this throne. Its golden exterior was extravagant, but the metal was cold against his skin. He refused to use too much cushioning, though it would make it less uncomfortable than some of his predecessors had chosen.


Restfos stared at the hall in front of him—empty aside from a few guards—he needed the reminder his chair brought. One could never get too comfortable and complacent with what one had. If they did, that was stagnation. And stagnation was the death of progress and empires.


This, in particular, he had taken as a lesson from his father when he was young. The man had pushed for the surface renovation, breaking free from the cavern and breaking through long historical tradition—the idea of staying down below where it was safe and only sending expeditions up occasionally. The man’s grand vision had orchestrated them to where they were now, and Restfos was going to carry through and pay any price to see it to its end.


What he held in his hands now was a report from his Knights—one special Knight who had been targeted by the Church, and had been attacked by five other Knights from an entirely different order. The motives he had seen written down below were all he needed. They’d confessed to doing it at the behest of the priests. And it had all been to plan.


He sighed, looking at it. Using one piece to bait out an attack was an awful thing, truly. He didn't do it with any gladness in his heart. But the way the courts worked and the political structure called for it. He knew that he had to use certain pieces in certain ways.

His knight—a piece that had recently come to his board and turned out to have so much value—had even managed to overcome this obstacle. There had been a danger, leaving it hanging out, waiting for it to prompt this attack. But it seemed it had survived and given him what he needed. Now he had the justification.

"Escort her in," he ordered his guards. And they did just that, walking out to the hall and then, in three minutes' time, bringing forth a woman with milky white eyes and silvered hair. She wore the emblem of a silver flame on her chest and stood with the sort of regal pride that spoke of one with power—more power than the King had. That was for certain. But not more power than the three other grandmasters that he had at his command.


Grandmaster Flame bowed her head and looked up at him. Those milky eyes were not seeing anything, but still managing to see him—or see through him rather. He cultivated a rather dull and unimportant guise, relishing in the fact that a King could look so uninspiring and forcing his foes in the noble courts to see past him. When they miscalculated your influence and strength, it was easy to see them make mistakes. But she had a way of seeing him no matter what.


"I suppose you know what I've been reading this morning," he said, one hand tapping against his golden chair arm, his ring making a small sound.


Plink. Plink. Plink.


"I can guess," Grandmaster Flame said and then sighed. "I've been dealing with the fallout and repercussions for the last day myself. To think those in my Order would go and harass another, and attack in the name of the Church. It is a disgrace on me and my Order, and you have my apologies.”


The King narrowed his eyes and stood up. "The Verdant Oak has so gracefully managed to extract that much information from the five transgressors. They didn't do it in the name of your Order, and what I’m reading here calls for actions far beyond a mere apology. Conducting treachery in front of us all is a great concern indeed. I need your reassurance, Grandmaster, that you had no part in this.”


“I was just as shocked. Those knights are being discharged and facing severe charges already, and the decision of their punishment will, of course, be on the crown," she said.


"Yes, but they work for the church—something that you have close ties to. I believe you are a friend of the Cardinal."


She nodded her head slowly, as is and as always has been the case for any of the Grandmasters of the Silver Flames. They often made friendships with the Cardinals.


"If you might recall by our oaths and the way that our Order was structured, we are a representation of the Goddess's influence on this kingdom and meant to balance any forces within the Knighthood which may be contrary to our devotion to her. And the Crown’s service in her name." She said carefully.


"Yes, I am well aware of that particular aspect of your loyalty."


"It is a duty I take very seriously, but I trust that you know that loyalty to the Goddess does not mean loyalty to the church, especially when they order those under you to defy the chain of command, and act as traitors to the state.” With this, she bowed her head again. "I do not condone the actions of my Knights and the transgressions they have committed against this verdant oak. That much I can assure you, your lordship."


"Good."


He sank back down, his heart rushing. He saw it in her expression. Grandmaster Flames was not in the church’s pocket. Therefore, his worry—the one piece he had been secretly concerned about over the last few months… That of the entire order of the Silver Flames turning against him and working for the church was unfounded.


Some of them, some of them, he was sure, might turn traitor, just as a couple within any Order might be willing to be swayed to the church's side when things escalated at a higher percentage. But that was to be expected. Had he known the truth of the Goddess years ago, he would’ve prepared for much longer.


But it was nearly impossible to get spies within the church. Now he understood why.


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The King cleared his throat and looked back down at the paperwork.


“Then I must make a request of you,” the King said to the Grandmaster. She once more raised her empty gaze toward him, as if staring into his soul. A frown appeared there. She knew what he was about to ask was nothing to be happy about. Especially with her at such a disadvantage. Those in her order had circumvented the chain of command and broken their ties to the king and the guardian of the kingdom. And she had much to prove.


“My King?”


"You will forcibly investigate the church. I want your Knights to go and then bring them under heel."


She stared at him with her empty gaze, her mouth working and then stopping again. And then she shook her head. “Impossible, surely?”


"This brooks no argument. This is your charge as an Order responsible to the King. And so you will carry out this duty as commanded." He then let his head sink. And then sighed. "Do your best, Grandmaster. You have the Kingdom at your disposal."


With that, he gestured for the guards to escort her out and set her free of his throne room. It was a duty that would not be pleasant, he was sure. One that might not even be possible with the roots that the priests had spread out over the years. Nonetheless, it would be the true test of his loyalty to determine whether the Silver Flames as a whole Order was more loyal to him or this Church. He could only hope it was one over the other.


— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —


Dame Robin took the elevator. The hour was quite late, with no one on it but herself. That's what one got when they rode these sorts of things—these not-so-public, out-of-your-way elevators that ran between the caverns. Especially when one rode it near 4 a.m. But there was a certain calm to it, being the only one up and about on your business, the streets empty and without people to watch.


The only people up this late were those in the deepest caverns and those who had fallen off the kingdom's prescribed circadian rhythm schedule. It was an essential feat of life within the Kingdom that had been established from the first generation onwards. If people went too long without regular sleep or were in a certain rhythm, odd peculiarities in their personalities and demeanor began to emerge. They would become moody, irritable, and angry. So, to avoid that, everyone went by the guidelines and times set by the sun on the surface, finding them to be the most natural hours.


This had changed several times over the years, but now it just meant that she was down here, alone.


Dame Robin sighed, giving a small whistle to herself as she waited for the grinding gears to turn upward. It had been another productive day of gathering information in the caverns and interviewing all the people who made the lower caverns their home. Knowing the pulse of the nobility and what they were thinking turned out to be just as important as knowing the workings of the higher-class citizens. She always tried to keep a tab on both, especially right now with so much happening so quickly.


It was impossible to tell just who was planning what. Just the other day, she had heard Boldwick ranting about a group of Silver Flame Knights assaulting Erec. Now she was waiting for the other shoe to drop and went about with a healthy dose of paranoia. After all, she worked in intelligence. And that meant caution, even within the Kingdom, where most of her career had dealt with gangs in the lowest caverns.


So, when she was suddenly greeted by the appearance of three red priests joining her on the elevator in the middle of the night, Dame Robin was ready.


She put a hand to her sword, which turned out to be a wonderful move. The second they stepped on, and the gear began to shift between floors, two of the priests burst out into prayer. The elevator came to a sudden and complete stop as one wrestled the gears away with holy magic. Another began to form a sword of light that was seconds from piercing her.


Dame Robin targeted this one first; her sword melting away to a liquid metal in her hand, which she shoved through that priest's throat. She watched him collapse to the ground as he drowned in his own blood.


She turned to deal with the two others, hearing a quick chant and seeing a fiery red portal burst into life in the middle of the elevator, not dissimilar at all to a Rift.


Not very good for me.


Reacting quickly, she found the one who’d cast it—the third priest, and shot the spike of metal on her hand outward, straight into that priest’s heart. But it was a little too late. As he died in seconds, the rift had stabilized, and in stepped three men with red chains and masks. The same she’d seen in the tournament. Their chains were ready to go, flashing forward and hitting her from the second they stepped out.


She cursed, wishing she’d had her Armor.


She’d chosen not to wear it tonight, since she was incognito. In fact, she had no idea how the priests had flagged her; she could only do the best she could with the metal at hand. The remainder of her sword wrapped around her wrists, forming gauntlets that she used to block the chains whipping at her.


But it was too little. Some dug in, spikes forming on their links as they slashed, spilling blood. There wasn't enough room to retreat in the claustrophobic space of the small elevator. And they were trapped between floors—a perfect killing room for them to take her out. Her blood spilled hot, as these red robes put forth much more of a fight than the priests.


Her mind scrambled for an answer.


There. The chain holding the elevator up, right above the gear currently being held in place by holy light. In a bid of desperation, she rushed it, receiving a lashing as more of those chains spewed out and tried to wrap her and kill her. She yanked the metal away from the chain the second she reached it, letting it flow like liquid onto her skin.


And broke the one thing holding them up.


There were screams as suddenly they were rushing downward, on a crash course with the ground itself. The chained men began to try their prayers, trying to stabilize the position. But Dame Robin simply braced.


BAM.


The floor beneath them lurched as the elevator’s emergency brakes came into gear, jerking the three men to the ground. The priest managed to stay upright and put as much distance as possible between himself and Dame Robin—not enough distance, but she sensed he wasn't the biggest threat.


With blood flowing from a dozen cuts, Dame Robin took advantage and formed two separate metal spikes, which she sent into the chained men. One went through a skull, the other shattered a shoulder—but the survivors got up, and the priest began to chant again, covering his allies in a glowing light.


Dame Robin felt pretty good—until a chain came out of nowhere and wrapped around her throat, stealing her breath away and forcing her to kneel. Small little spikes cut in as she was choked out—she set her hand on the chain, trying to melt it away and convert it to her own weapon, but it failed. More chains stole her arms away, binding them behind her back.


The unharmed chain man walked up slowly, taking off his mask to reveal an evil smile. "For your crimes against the goddess, you shall face her in the afterlife," he proclaimed, the grip tightening, intending to choke her out rather than just slashing her throat with one violent gesture, relishing in his punishment of the wicked.


Fool. Robin thought, and let the last bit of metal she’d stolen from the elevator chain run from her hands and to her chest—and then spiked it out, right into the man’s sensitive bits.


He screamed and fell over, and the chains on her neck and arms loosened. With her next second alive, she slipped free and took another look at the floating portal of fire. She saw more of the chained guys through there.


Staying here wasn’t an option.


Think.


The elevator had dropped two floors and ground to a halt with half exposed to an exit. She could flee. Seeing her one chance, Dame Robin rushed forward and slid through the small gap, her body squirming as she made it through. She crashed to the ground five feet below with a thunk.


It stole the breath from her lungs, but she ignored it. Getting up and back on her feet, and running into the cavern.


Behind her came angry yells, her skin burned, and blood poured down from her neck and limbs, but Robin ignored that. Forcing her legs to move as fast as they could, darting further and further into the unknown location, putting as much distance between her and her assailants as possible.


It seemed that the Cold War had heated up.