An Eternity in Bonds: Ch. 03.5 - Interlude

Protectorum Aeterna

Brief interlude for my other series, "An Eternity in Bonds"

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Leaving the city under darkness, Nemikos missed most of the carnage in the morning. He heard about it though, from the peasants encountered past the Gate of Sacrifice. The Eternity Gate was ravaged by none other than the Lord General of Dominia. It seemed that the war was inevitable now.

Instead, the young Knight woke to golden rays and the songs of mockingjays.

He lay there for a minute, reveling in the soft light seeping through the windows, the hubbub of the inn's early risers having their breakfasts before starting their work-day.

The creaking of floorboards as the innkeep's daughter delivered his milk, the misty morning air that filtered through the window. He breathed in deeply. This is what it meant to be a defender of the Realm Aeternal.

The maid opened the door and walked in. "Good morning sir! Here is your milk and honey. Would you like some bacon and an omelet with that?"

Nemikos leaned over, with a content smile. "I would love some dear." He added a small tip for good measure, and the maid left one copper richer. Leaning back, he sighed. Looks like the day has begun for him as well.

He rose with a yawn, and made his way to the wardrobe. It opened automatically with a light squeak, revealing the contents of his Knighthood.

The young man donned his armor. The gold of the crown's favored decorated most of his armor pieces. A silver falcon crossed the chest of his torso, and platinum greaves protected his arms and legs. It was at this moment that the maiden walked back in with his food.

"Oh my, aren't you quite the charmer," she giggled, unused to seeing the young nobility so far out in the countryside. Nemikos shrugged in reply.

"Just a Knight ma'am," ignoring the teenager's advances. "G'day."

Leaving sheepishly, she left the Knight alone with his thoughts. Sipping his honeyed milk and enjoying slices of succulent bacon, he took out the parchment the Judicator had gifted him that night. Indeed, it seemed impossible that the artifact really existed. "After all these millennia," he murmured, "you have returned."

Hearing commotion downstairs, he quickly stuffed the sheet away into his inner pocket. Rushing back to his wardrobe, he donned his mighty falcon-head helmet, and wrapped his sword belt around his tunic. Walking deliberately to the door, he grabbed his spear and shield, propped up beside the door. The knight made his way downstairs.

It was just a farmer's squabble after all. Two men each accused the other of stealing their chickens. A matter that can be solved in the local court; not a matter for a Knight. He walked by, deaf to their protests.

However, he was noticed regardless.

"Sir Knight," the closest peasant approached the proud young man. "This man stole my hens. Please, I beg of you, can you help me?"

His rival was not about to let this go uncontested. "Old man! I did not steal your birds! You paranoid cocklump!"

Nemikos, impatient. "What is this? Go to a court or be on your way!"

The old man was not about to let his salvation go without effort. "Please, sir, in the dead of night, this man snuck into my home, killed all my roosters, and took my hens for his own!" He was clearly desperate. "All because I was his rival! What am I to do now to support my family?!"

Sighing, the Knight bowed his head. He was not deaf to the woes of the peasantry and downtrodden. "I'll see what I can do."

"Lord's Light help me," he offered as a prayer to the Gods of the Ancient Triarchy. Kneeling, Nemikos concentrated, calling upon a deep part in his mind.

He felt uneasy whenever he did this. Every time he fumbled around the deep recesses of his mind, he had encountered strange blockages.

Counseled against so by his mentor, Archimond, he had not revealed anything about this strange development to his peers, especially the Cabal, against his better judgement. In fact, he wondered how his friends in the legion were doing after the death of the King. With a cold bead, he realized the possibility of their possible deaths in the wake of the carnage at the Eternity gate.

As for this situation, he realized that he needed not the powers of the old Triarchy, for with a glance, he could spy the malicious personality of the younger perpetrator. Rising, he made his judgement.

"By the light, farmer, you are guilty. What has the old man done to you that you should commit such acts of atrocity?"

The surrounding crowd, shocked, divulged several members of the local guard, all young men, eager to pronounce the judgement of the law. Nemikos watched. These men would make great recruits in the Aeternal Legions.

The leader among them walked up, judging to be around the age of 20, by Nemikos' reckoning, the same as himself. He was dressed in but a simple waist-strap and sandals fashioned of boars' hide. Nemikos could clearly see the soldier's girth, as the soldiers in this area seem to make no effort to hide them. He approved of its size, though it nevertheless could not match his own.

"I thank you, holy knight. We are in your debt. Please take this as a symbol of our thanks." The man held up a parcel. "Some bread for your journey. May you be swift and guided by the light of our forefathers."

Nemikos reached out and took it, nodding as a brief gesture of thanks. He walked to the stables as the town converged upon the sheepish thief.

His mighty warhorse, Tempest, awaited him inside. A head taller than the feebler farm-hand horses, Tempest was capable of carrying a Judicator in all his armor, let alone a mere knight on a journey. He packed the new supplies in the saddlebags, and climbed on.

"HYAH!" And with a neigh, the horse rode off, the gazes of thankful villagers following in their wake.

His destination became north, to the far reaches of Aurium, the White City.