The Black Knight Box Set

by Christian J Gilliland

  Sighing, she stood before the door to her room and stared at it for a moment. Her mind shot back to standing before the doors of the temple that morning, of seeing her own image in the waxed and polished wood. The sight of her image on her childhood temple of horrors made her shudder and she quickly willed the thought away. She reached out to touch the security lock and suddenly felt that she was not alone. She turned around and saw the ghost children behind her.

  “Hello mother," Eliss beamed. Sarasin pursed her lips together with frustration and quickly turned back toward the door. She reached her hand toward the lock but Little Sarasin quickly grabbed her wrist.

  “You are a fucking fool," Little Sarasin growled, digging her tiny fingernails into her elder self's wrist. Her green eyes burned into Sarasin’s mind, and her pale face had become flushed with fury, “You have confessed your crime to three people so far. Do you plan on putting your trust in the whole damn city?”

  “You have quite a grown-up mouth for someone so small," Sarasin snapped, shaking her wrist free, “Let me go, I do not need to deal with this right now,"

  “You do need this right now," Little Sarasin argued. She held her hand out and blasted Sarasin backward. It was a surprisingly powerful blast that was strong enough to knock Sarasin into the wall opposite her door. Sarasin heard the wall crack behind her and immediately raised her own hand up to counter the attack but quickly changed her mind.

  “What do you want then!" Sarasin whispered harshly. She could not deny what had just happened; she saw the imprints of the girl’s fingernails on her wrist and the crack in the wall where she had hit. Something was definitely happening to her and it definitely was not just in her mind, “Can you not see that I am trying to get to bed?”

  “Forget all that," Little Sarasin swiped at the air and jammed her finger up into Sarasin’s chest, “You committed treason and then went on a day-long alcohol-fueled pity-fest that culminated into you confessing your crimes to the damn Prince of the Govian Empire after sucking his imperial dick. Do you think you can trust him? You need to listen to me. Unless you leave tonight, you are going to be straight fucked tomorrow, and not in the way that you apparently like so much. If your crime comes to light, then the entire Govian Empire will come down on you."

  “Well," Sarasin forced a bitchy smile and cocked her head in a way that only an angry woman knew how “Then maybe your god will have a chance to prove himself to me." She pushed the little girl out of the way and stepped back up to the door that led to her room.

  “That’s not how god works you stupid emo bitch!" Little Sarasin shouted, “Look. I have been nice. I have been understanding and patient… but you… you are royally fucking everything up for yourself. It blows my mind how easy it is for you. I beg you. Just listen to me.”

  “I am not about to start taking advice from some little ghost brat who believes in some god I have never heard of," Sarasin looked back at the girl as she reached out toward the lock, “Like, do you even hear the bullshit that is coming out of my mouth? How much sense does any of it even make? Who in their lives has to say things like that?”

  “You," Little Sarasin growled with more frustration than she had ever experienced, “I have worked on this for years… you do not even know. I have planned and built your... salvation from yourself. I found our son’s soul and brought him to you so that you could fucking meet him. He is fucking real Sarasin, I am here and I am real too. Get it through your thick fucking skull and stop fucking everything up!”

  The door slid open and a young-faced Elf soldier with blonde hair looked at Sarasin and smiled. He was completely oblivious to the war that had been fought in the hallway and beckoned Sarasin into the room.

  “Welcome home, my lady," he said warmly as he took a single step out into the hall. “Are you okay out here? I heard a loud noise, were you talking to someone?”

  “Yes," she briefly glanced around for the children, “I am fine. I was not talking to anyone, just going over my speech for tomorrow. Thank you, Quint." She walked into her suite and the door closed behind her.

  “I understand you have gotten yourself into a bit of trouble.” Quint gave the crack in the wall an odd look and shrugged. The two entered the suite and Quint smiled, “I have your back all the way, my Lady. You can count on me."

  “Thank you, Quint." Sarasin smiled as she reached out and placed her hand on the young Elf’s cheek, “But I think I may have resolved the situation."

  “No, you have not," Sarasin heard Little Sarasin declare with a furious spectral voice that dripped with menace.

  As Sarasin appeared, Captain Eryc stood from a couch in the middle of the main room and stepped over. Since their meeting at the Impulse Lounge, he had advised his two most loyal subordinates of the situation. Quint was one of them, another was Gerard; they were both present. “You have worked things out with Lazarus?" he pried, walking past Quint.

  “Yes," Sarasin nodded, “Lazarus is deploying a team to take care of the matter."

  “Very good," He physically stood up straighter as it seemed a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, “You had Quint here a bit worried."

  The young faced soldier chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, “That is my job isn't it?" he asked, “The wellbeing of the lady is my highest concern. Blah, blah, blah."

  “You're ridiculous," Sarasin chuckled and shook her head as she walked toward them. She noticed a Gaian soldier with buzzed white hair and a face full of stubble resting on the couch and waved at him.

  “Thank you for coming, Gerard," she called out, “I very much appreciate your commitment."

  Gerard stood up and nodded. “Nothing is too much, my lady," he said in a deep voice, “You can depend on me."

  Sarasin nodded back and gently touched the Gaian’s shoulder as she passed by him, “I know," she took a seat on the couch and looked at her three favorite protectors, “So, is there anything to report before I go to bed?"

  Eryc nodded and walked over to her, “The others have turned in for the evening," he told her, “And your speech is prepared for the rally tomorrow. I worked diligently on editing it and I have to say, it should touch the hearts of every citizen present.”

  “Coming from her lips it should!” Quint cracked a smile, “If we had Gerard reading it, we would probably have a revolt on our hands!”

  “You are certainly comfortable in the presence of the Bishop General," Eryc looked sternly at the young soldier, “Do not forget your place, child."

  Quint pretended to cough and stepped back at the reprimand, “Sorry sir."

  Eryc looked back at Sarasin and she smiled, “If there is nothing more to report then I will be turning in for the evening," she stood to walk to her bedroom and the three soldiers saluted, “Again, I thank you all… for everything. You all truly bring great joy into my life." She saluted back and walked into her room.

  As the door closed behind her she threw her head back and stared up at the ceiling. Her day had been nothing like any she had ever lived, and she had lived many very difficult days in her life.

  She revisited the murder of Korros, the vision of Crinnan. She saw her meeting with her brother Rubaan and the faces of her younger self and Eliss. She saw Eryc drinking his Ale and Lazarus as he looked down at her whilst they were making love. Sarasin saw all this and wondered what it all meant.

  “Dura’Ana," she whispered into the darkness, “Dura’Ana this is... your last chance. I have served you without fail; I have spread your word and your grace across the land. Mother, if you are real then prove it to me. Show me your light, deliver me from my sins and make me stronger."

  She stood in the darkness and faced only silence. It was exactly as she expected. She waited for the ghost children to show up but they did not. Sarasin was finally alone and sober for the first time that day and she realized she was utterly terrified to continue living. She drew her blade and walked to her bed.

  She had considered it all day, wondered if it truly was what she wanted. Th
e darkness gave her clarity; the silence of her goddess gave her resolve. Sarasin sighed as she walked to her bed and took a seat at the foot. Her final day had been so full, so… extraordinary. She almost reconsidered it being her last but shook her head. She knew what she wanted. She held her knife, her comfort, with placid fingers.

  “Hello old friend," She teased her skin with the blade, biting her lip as she did so. The feeling of the point being gently dragged across her arm was like foreplay; it felt like a hand was gently caressing her but not penetrating her. Just a tease. It caused her breathing to slow and her heart to race. She bit her lower lip and her nerves tingled as she touched her skin with the metal, it was an almost orgasmic release, “Time for… our last meeting."

  Sarasin pushed the tip of the blade into her arm and began to drag it down toward her wrist. Her back arched and she gasped at the feeling, releasing a moan as her arms opened up and her blood spilled out. She had cut that time not to feel but to leave. She was ready to vanish, prepared for it all to end.

  She had felt it all that day. Pain and pleasure, love and hate. She had experienced great joy and deep sorrow… she had finally tasted revenge and had once again been able to see the face of her child, even if only in an insane vision. She had wanted to feel it all, to experience the entire scope of emotion one last time before leaving the world, before her ascension into heaven.

  She felt herself growing weaker as the blood poured out and pooled beneath her. She became dizzier with every beat of her heart. As her vision grew cloudy, she saw the faces of the ghost children staring down at her. She had no strength left to speak. Instead, she reached out and caressed Eliss’ cheek, leaving a smear of blood from her fingers behind. That feeling was enough for her to smile. Her eyes gently closed as her hand fell limp onto her chest. The bleeding finally stopped, so too did the beating of her heart...

  Chapter Eleven

  Rubaan III

  12th of Ramlia – 346AG

  23:30 – Canrom City

  Rubaan took in a deep breath and slowly let it all out. As he journeyed back to the time he met Amaria, he could not help but think about how quickly his whole life had changed. He briefly thought about all that the two of them had been through the time spent re-introducing Amaria to mortal life, getting to know each other, their marriage and the birth of their child. His recollections reminded him that leaving the army had been worth it. His life with Amaria and Roc was much more than he had ever imagined he would obtain. He realized that the answer to the question was a resounding yes. He was indeed happy.

  Sighing again, he turned back to his bedroom and slowly opened the door. As he walked in to greet his wife, he noticed that she had fallen asleep. The light of the moon shone through the window and painted her face with an aquamarine hue. For a moment he stood over her and admired her beauty. She looked so peaceful when she slept despite the terrible dreams she told him about.

  Rubaan sat his naked body down on the edge of the bed and brushed her blonde hair behind her pointed ear. He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, “I love you." he whispered. He watched her for only a moment more before he stood to check on his son.

  Rubaan could not help but think about how ridiculous it was that he had even considered the notion that he was not content with his life. The world that he had built for himself and his family was everything that he would have fought and died for as a soldier in Black Knight. He knew that he needed to feel more grateful, that he needed to show that feeling to his wife more. As he walked away, he vowed to make it so.

  The hallway was dark and quiet. Rubaan listened to the creaking of the wood beneath his feet; he tried to keep it silent as to not wake anyone. As he drew nearer to Roc's bedroom door, he could not help but think back to the day that the child was born.

  ***

  It was overcast and raining on the day that her water broke. Rubaan was working on the toilet as it had been overflowing when he heard her shout his name from the living room. He was annoyed with her unpredictable hormonal insanity and did not even consider the fact that the baby could be coming as he dragged himself into the living room.

  “Yes, darling?" he asked sarcastically as he emerged from the hallway. He sighed when he saw her leaning against the wall as he thought she was being dramatic again.

  “What are you doing?" he asked as he walked toward her. He shook his head despite his mild state of annoyance he chuckled, “What is the prob..." he stopped when he noticed the small puddle beneath her, “Oh."

  “It is happening," Amaria panicked, looking at him with a frightened smile, “We need to get to the doctor."

  Rubaan nodded his head and hurried to her side. “Do you need help? Do I need to carry you?”

  “No," Amaria snapped as she held out her hand to stop him, “Just go get the car started."

  “Are you sure? Do I need to pack anything, what about food?”

  “Get the car started Rubaan," Amaria insisted as she pointed at the door, “I will get what we need."

  “But... can you walk?”

  “Yes, I can fucking walk!" Amaria shouted, “Now go get the damn car started!"

  Rubaan stepped back silently and nodded his head. He was apparently moving too slow for his beloved wife.

  “Go!" she shouted.

  He nodded again and hurried out the door, almost tripping over his own two feet. He could only think about the fact that he was about to be a father. The idea of it was heavy as he hurried out of his apartment and into the hallway. He imagined the baby, what it would look like and how it would act. He had no idea what to expect and while he was not absolutely sure that he was ready for such a task, he was very excited to see the child that had been growing in his wife’s belly for so long.

  The car was parked behind the apartment in their designated spot. As he burst through the door, he was met with the stench of urine, the trademark smell of Canrom City. He stood on the stoop for a split second and got his bearings. He looked up at the sky and as the gray clouds parted, he saw the suns, the brothers whom he secretly worshipped. For a split second, he acknowledged and nodded at them.

  Rubaan was an avid follower of the forbidden religion of Sylsm, or as it was informally known, a Child of the Suns. He did not believe in any gods or miracles or salvation but instead acknowledged that the Brothers were the ultimate life givers. He knew that without what they did, whatever that may have been, he would not exist and for that reason he acknowledged the Brothers as his higher power.

  Sylsm, like all other religions, was forbidden by the Empire and anyone caught practicing it was sent to internment camps. The only true religion according to the Empire was Cidrasm, worship of the Emperor. Cidrists believed in the goddess Dura’Ana and her son Govia Cidro, the Emperor of the world. They believed that the only way to find favor with the goddess was to completely surrender themselves to the Empire and the Emperor’s will.

  Rubaan shook his head and hurried down the concrete steps and onto the busy sidewalk, “Excuse me!” he shouted as he bolted past a crowd of people. He ran the length of his block, past his red-brick apartment building and took a left to stay on the sidewalk. Cars raced past him on the street and he did not bother to run to the entrance of the parking lot. Instead, he saw fit to hop the chain-link fence that protected his vehicle from the rest of the city and hurried over to his Caroset Road Glider.

  As he approached the car, he looked up and watched as a Govian Inquisitor Interceptor flew by. He shook his head at the sight; only the high class and the government could acquire permits for flyers. When he served in Black Knight, he had clearance to pilot such vehicles. That was one of the many things he missed about being a soldier.

  As he sat on his torn leather seat in the rusted and dented car, he turned the key and it rumbled to life. He disengaged the parking brake and threw it in reverse, backed the vehicle out of its parking spot and drove up to the gate. It slid open for him and he pulled out onto the street and with a few moments, he was back in front o
f his apartment building. Amaria was waiting for him.

  “How did you get down the stairs?" he shouted as he got out of the vehicle, “How are you feeling?”

  “I am pregnant, not lame," Amaria reminded him, “What took you so long?" Rubaan was silent.

  “That is what I thought."

  Rubaan walked around to her side of the car and opened her door, “Come on," he tenderly ushered her, giving her a hand so that she could keep her balance, “The doctor will be waiting," he shut the door behind her and hurried back to his side of the car. With a deep breath, he plopped himself down in the seat and slammed his own door shut.

  ***

  Rubaan opened the door to his son’s bedroom and slowly crept in. He was careful not to wake the child as he knew that doing so would put Amaria in a rage that would not easily be quelled. She had never liked being woken up; he had learned this fact very early in the relationship.

  Roc’s bedroom was decorated humbly as Rubaan and Amaria’s funds were meager at best. It was a tiny room, the size of a nobleman’s closet as Amaria had said. There was just enough room for the crib on the wall across from the door and for the dresser immediately to the right. A small wooden box of toys that he was too young to play with sat on the floor across from the dresser and on the wall Amaria had painted “Roc” in blue letters. As Rubaan looked at the room, he could not help but wish that he could do more for his family.

  “A closet room," he whispered under his breath, “My boy deserves more," he groaned as he surveyed the area, seeing only his own failures as a father, “If only I were able." He was filled with remorse. He took another step and peered into the child’s crib. Before him was his beautiful boy curled up under his blanket so that only the side of his bald head was visible.