“Woe to you, inquisitor, for it is you that is wrong. It is your sins that will condemn you eternally. All men are equal in the eyes of God; we are all His children.” Mathias was keen to notice the pair of guards that flanked the preacher, and he kept his own defense wary. “I have not come to judge you, for that is the work of our Lord Almighty, but I will not let you spread His word falsely.”
The inquisitor looked over Mathias’ attire and sneered vehemently. “Templar.” He nearly spat the word, holding the cross up higher, his fist shaking in rage. “You are the worst of all sinners; a branch that should have stayed dead when it was first purged. You have the gall to stand before me and speak about God’s word?”
“If I am to be damned for protecting those who wish to work toward humanity’s salvation, then so be it. I will meet my divine judgment when I arrive at the heavenly gates. That decision is for God to make,” he raised his left hand, extending a single finger toward the man. “Not you.”
The inquisitor laughed heartily, extending his own finger toward the sword in Mathias’s right hand. “You lecture me about God’s judgment, yet you stand before us with a weapon not from this earthly plane – a sacrilegious blade created by the Slavic heathens and their false gods!” The finger slowly descended and the anger seemed to be mixed with the fear of God. “That helmet you hide behind can save you for only so long. When I pry it from your head and lay eyes on your face, you alone will not only suffer God’s holy wrath, but your family, neighbors, and village will be purged for harboring and raising a heretic!”
Mathias smiled under the helmet, and thus knowing his enemy could not see such motion, he allowed a chuckle to escape his lips, causing the other man’s eyes to madden. “Oh, preacher. If I could recount to you just how many of your branch have said something similar to me. While many have fallen to the most sadistic of your order, both my brethren and other innocents alike, I have avenged them many times over, sending numerous agents of your Inquisition, who claim they carry out the will of God, to meet our Lord Almighty for His true judgment.”
Spittle foamed at the preacher's mouth as he let out a howl, his cross raising higher than it seemed possible. His guards rushed out from behind him, raising their swords as they came upon the Knight Templar. Mathias sidestepped the first swipe and then brought his sword up to block the second one. Once the clashing of weaponry sounded out around him, he grabbed his sword with both hands to push his attacker back. Just as he reeled his weapon back, he forced it up just in time to defend against the first one. The duo swung at each other, blocking each swipe as they took turns on the offense, the second member of the Inquisition hanging back, stalking Mathias.
His eyes danced around the battlefield, trying to take in all of his targets, centralizing on the man who was pushing the offense. The preacher was some feet removed, chanting incantations from a book that Mathias thought looked like the Bible. His sword was placed back in its sheath and the cross was still held resolutely high. His eyes, when they looked up, were maniacal as they seemed from the first moment.
Even though his eyes could not be seen through the slit in his helmet, he lingered on the preacher a moment too long and the other guard must have felt it. He tried to pull his body out of the way, but he did not have enough time. He felt the blade sink into his left arm and he winced at the pain and his own inattentiveness. The Slavic blade seemed to spark in its color, which scared the warrior he was in a deadlock with enough to make him pull back, and even surprised Mathias. Sensing his opportunity, Mathias elbowed the man in his exposed nose, causing him to fall over in pain.
The second man was coming around again for another attack and instinctively, Mathias raised the glowing sword to parry the attack; but when he swung to block, his sword did not stop at the blade but instead kept going. He had not fully grasped what had happened until the blood splattered around the Inquisition grunt’s face, his scream a maniacal howl. His eyes widened as he witnessed his opponent’s blade was no longer whole, but shattered into pieces that were stabbing him in the face, his blood pouring out at every wound as he fell.
He knelt down to the man convulsing on the ground, his screams now a gargle of liquid. Placing the blade at the nape of his neck, Mathias silenced him with a quick pull. When he stood, he looked at the Slavic weapon, astonished at the brilliance of the magical weapon. How could a weapon, any weapon, be strong enough to shatter another so effortlessly that he did not feel the swords touch? More importantly, why did it just happen now and not when they clashed before? Did it have something to do with when he was stabbed?
His eyes snapped away from the blade, back to the other man he had knocked down. He was back up and charging toward him, the sword held up high in the air, blood stained down the front of his face.
“God damn you!”
Mathias steeled himself, readying the glowing Slavic sword once more. It pulsated with silvery blue energy as he thrust it forward, through the man’s chest, impaling him. The other sword still hung in the air above the Inquisition grunt’s head for a few moments longer, even though he was no longer moving. The snarl on his face gave way to pleading, trying to gasp his last breaths of air.
“God has nothing to do with your crimes, except that you take his name in vain.”
With that, Mathias pushed the sword further in until his opponent’s sword fell from his grip, and then he went limp. Mathias waited until the light faded from his eyes, his head bowed, and blood seeped from it until he pushed the body off of the blade. As it came free, he was astonished once more at the blade’s magic. Not a single drop of blood touched the edge of the blade, but instead seemed to run off of it like water.
He did not even feel the dagger that bounced off of the back of his armor. It tore lightly into the cape on his back, but the mail caught the small weapon from doing any damage. He whirled around with his off-hand, slapping the preacher in the face. The dagger flew free and Mathias’s opponent spiraled to the ground from the impact. The Knight Templar towered over the man crawling back on the ground, one hand still raising the cross defiantly at him.
Mathias took his helmet off and threw it to the ground as he stalked the preacher. He did not realize just how furious he must have looked until he saw the man’s face lose its anger, taking on a complete look of fear. He relieved some of the strain off his brow, feeling the snarl fade away as he straightened.
“You wished to see my face… Now, you have seen it.” Mathias held his hands out at his side, as if welcoming the preacher to behold his appearance in its entirety. The holy man’s face began to scrunch again when he saw the knight’s face, and his mouth moved, as if to speak; but Mathias thrust the sword down before any words could be said. Instead, a gargle came out of the zealous man’s mouth, followed by a trickle of blood, and an expression of betrayal. “When you meet the Heavenly Father, and you stand trial for the atrocities you have wrought – killing so many innocent people – make sure you tell him that Mathias D’este was the one that freed you of your mortal bonds.”
The cross ascended even higher than ever as the preacher’s body fought and climbed up the blade, but then he succumbed to the instrument of his destruction and fell to the ground; the cross laying limp beside him.
*****
At first, Mathias thought the blaze would consume the entirety of the forest. The flames were so hot and burned so fiercely, he was not sure where to start with extinguishing it. Before he could concoct a plan, he saw something through the inferno – the telltale sign of fairy lights twinkling at him all around. As if they sensed that the forces that opposed them had been wiped out, the glow appeared all at once, and the fire fizzled out quicker than Mathias could have even begun to aid.
He set to his own work immediately. In the ruins of one of the huts, by the area he had seen them farming, he found a crude shovel that he used to begin digging. He had been at it for at least twenty minutes, the sweat dripping off his head and down the back of his armor, when he sensed Elizabeth st
anding by him.
“Did you find Dmitrei?”
His eyes remained focused upon the grave he was digging, but he heard the falter in Elizabeth's steps.
“He… Yes. His body was mutilated and tortured.”
“Was he still alive?”
There was pause again in the sister’s voice. “He might have been when we came back with the sword, but… He suffered, Mathias.”
Mathias winced, his dig hesitating for a moment. He shook his head and stabbed into the dirt once more. “I am sorry you had to bear witness to that. We can rest easy and know that he is with God now.”
“Or whatever gods that he worshipped.”
It was a good point. He had never really stopped to consider where the Slavic people went after they passed the mortal realm. Were there multiple realms of the afterlife? Was Heaven one version that those of Christian faith ascended to, and did the Slavs have a completely different version of where their people went?
Satisfied with the depth of the plot, he placed the preacher, bundled in his holy garments, into the hole. He fixed the cross so that it rested on the center of the man’s chest, just above the mortal wound that Mathias inflicted on him. He stood back from the grave, bowing his head in prayer and Elizabeth did the same.
“Despite his extreme views, he was a man of God, first and foremost. Though he may have interpreted the message of our Lord incorrectly, he lived and served primarily. May God judge his sins accordingly, as he does all men.”
Elizabeth nodded her head and then took the shovel from Mathias’s hands. He gave her a strange look, but she ignored him and began to bury the preacher.
“We must all do our part, brother-knight.” She pulled her red hair tight over one shoulder, preparing for the labor. “And this is mine.”
*****
The duo, caked in blood, sweat, and dirt, sat close by to where Elizabeth tied the horses up. He thanked God that the faeries, or whatever woodland creatures, had watched over their mounts and kept them unscathed, but all around them was cinder and ash. Even though the blaze had stopped before the forest’s complete destruction, where the village had been, at the start of the fire, had been reduced to a sullen gray graveyard.
He thought that, as he looked toward the markers where the Inquisition members lay buried.
And then he turned back to his sword; the strange Slavic sword that had been imbued with magics that he thought he would never be able to comprehend. The magical aura was gone, the blade seemingly resting from the previous conflict, and it looked like any other mortal blade beside the gem adornments on the hilt and handle.
“So, now what do we do with it?”
He looked toward Elizabeth and shrugged. “We find the next guardian.”
“But what if,” she shifted to look at him more directly, “what if there is no guardian?”
His brow furrowed and he shook his head. “I don’t follow, Elizabeth.”
She shifted again, this time uneasily as she tried to hold Mathias’s gaze. “Well… We work with the Slavic people in many ways. We aid them and that aid is reciprocated. We share information that benefits humanity. What if God set us on this path to retrieve the sword to seal the union between the Slavics and the Christians?”
Mathias felt his eyebrows rise. There were some in this lifetime that would call such words sacrilegious and exile her as a blasphemer without a second thought. He was not one of those close-minded individuals. He stared down at the sword in his hands and sat contemplating her words for several moments.
“Are... you to say that... we are the guardians of this blade?”
“No,” she placed a hand on his that held the sword. “You are the guardian. I, only if something should happen.”
“I…” Mathias turned the blade over several times before meeting her gaze.
“The blade shone in your hands so brilliantly. I know you might not yet understand the magic that the blade is made off, but you made a connection with it and it seems to answer to your needs. You are the most fit to wield the weapon, Mathias.”
Whatever hesitation she had vanished and she now stared confidently at the Knight Templar. He nodded once her words sank in.
“I spoke to you before about my family. They were not the only ones to have died.” He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. “The Inquisition killed my wife and two young sons, no older than six and eight.” He raised a hand to forestall the stammering from Elizabeth. “It… it is a pain that still haunts me. The only fact that eases my mind is that they are in God’s loving embrace and I do not have to worry about keeping them safe. They and my parents. This is the reason why I say my exploits are nothing more than any other man could do. When you and the cardinal approached me, I was hesitant to take up the blade once more. He and I have been through this song and dance many a time, but every time, he encourages me to fight on, in the name of God.
“And, honestly, I cannot blame him. His belief in me, that I can make a difference with God as my champion that I herald, is why I still have my spirit. And now, yet,” he looked down at the blade once more, his mind wrapped around the strange mysteries. “Taking this blade in my grip, my will and resolve has been renewed like never before. Perhaps… Perhaps I am meant to take this blade unto my possession as its guardian. Perhaps this is all in God’s great will.”
He looked up at her and could not help but let the corner of his lip curl in a smile. She gave him an answering one, much more elated than he.
“You are, Mathias. I believe it, truly.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Then, young sister, where do you suppose we go from here?”
“Well, what options do we have?”
“Not many.” He rose, his bandaged arm still singing from the battle and his joints from the burial after. “I suppose we should return to the cardinal and report in. There is much we must discuss.”
“Then so we shall,” she leapt to her feet, a wide smile still on her face. As she mounted her horse, she turned to him and nodded solemnly. “Your secret is safe with me, Mathias. I know you seek no vengeance, but I still stand by what I said when we first met – even more so now than ever. You are truly an inspiration to all in our order.”
He got atop his horse and shook his head. “And I, Elizabeth, stand by what I said. I am but a man in the service of our Lord.”
Appendix I: Factions
Grandmaster Frederick von Sachsen
by Jeff Preston, 2016
-The Church. Among the power struggle between the warring god factions, the religion of Christianity is the prevailing faith. The House of God is ever-present in the ongoing events surrounding Starybogow; both factions and their supporters have been branded heretics by the Pope, but there are still those who sympathize with the Slavic people of the old faith, being aligned with the similar purpose of preserving humanity. There are dark murmurs across the land that Pope Alexander the VIth and his highest ranking officials work in the name of God just to cover their own corruption.
- Eldar Gods. Nicknamed ‘the Dwellers of the Deep’ and sometimes ‘the Dark Ones’, these creatures inhabit the Baltic Ocean and thrust their tentacles up from the sea for one purpose – to destroy humanity and replace them with creatures of their own image. They had once been sealed in a Void by Perun in order to protect humanity, but their battle against the Old Gods has been waged for hundreds of years prior. The only people who have truly seen these creatures have fallen sway to their maniacal whims and have lost all sense of their humanity. Those they have wrapped their tentacles around have clear signs – almonding of the eyes, elongated appendages and craniums, and in some intense cases they begin to grow tentacles of their own as a sign of the power bestowed upon them.
-Inquisition. While the Teutonic Knights are the sword and shield of the Church, the Inquisition has slightly more… controversial methods. Even though this zealous group of people is not under the sway of the Eldar Gods, they share the same passion with the Teutonic Knights for ridding the land
of heretics. They put people on trial and torture those to death that they find not believing in Christianity. Traveling the land, spouting the word of the one true Lord and Savior, some would rather find themselves to meet a swift end at the hand of a Teutonic Knight’s blade than be tortured by the Inquisition.
-Hanseatic League. Once thought to be the world’s most elite and elaborate trading organization, their greater purpose and most sacred commodity is secrets. Every member of the guild is trained in the art of swordplay and advanced acrobatics so that they can not only trade valuables across the land, but so that they might spy on the different groups around the realm and adventure to the most desolate ruins to find treasure. They swear allegiance to no overarching group, and even though they fight for the preservation of humanity, their main priority is always protecting their interests and needs above the common man.
-Knights Templar. Originally created to be the sword and shield of the Church, the Knights Templar was disbanded in the 1300’s and replaced with the Teutonic Knights; all of the members of the order and their families were condemned to death, as if trying to erase all trace that they existed, as well as whatever secrets the order knew. Even though the Teutonic Knights were ruthless in their persecution of the members, there were those within the Church that did not believe what was happening was of the will of God, and thus sheltered members of the Knights Templar and hid them from the reach of the Pope. After that, the order was restored in secret, its members chosen selectively and they now have an easy relationship with the Slavic people to fight against a common threat – the Eldar Gods. Even though they believe in God and Christianity, they know they must work with the deities that are on the side of life to combat those that would see humanity ruined. Though they do not exist in great numbers, each member is in peak performance and fights like a seasoned warrior. The current leader is Cardinal Oliviero Carafa.
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