by J G Jerome
‘Let’s start with what do I call you? Do you have a name?’
*You can call me whatever you like, Lord. The last to possess me just called me Armor.*
‘Yeah, well I agree with Trina; he was an asshat. Okay, let’s start with my name is Jack. Please address me as such and drop the ‘Lord’ title. I am going to get tired of my own head calling me Lord really quick.’
*Yes, Lord.*
‘Oh! So that’s how you want to play it? Do you want to talk or not?’
*Sorry Jack. I haven’t had a possessor of the blood for a long time. I suspect it has given me an excuse to become...difficult.*
‘I think the modern word is Snarky.’
*Snarky. Yes. As for my appellation, it might be easier to come to accord if you understood my nature. I am the chainmail breastplate of the complete set of armor of the Green Lord. As such, I am the source of the enchantments for the armor and armament of the set.*
‘Wha…? So you’re Sidhe armor? With a cerebral interface technology, and you’re the command interface for all the pieces’
*Partially correct, Lord...er, Jack. The incorrect parts are that we are not Sidhe armor. In fact no part of the set has any true Sidhe influence at all. We were actually created to defend your ancestors against the Sidhe. Secondly, the Command Interface, as you called it, is not technological but rather spiritual and psychic. We communicate via psychic connection.*
‘Uh...Okay. I think that I’m still missing a lot of the frame of reference required to understand everything that you’re saying. Let’s start with what is or who is the Green Lord.’
*Sure, Jack. Back when creatures began to manifest on the earth, the fae races, early humans eventually, and similar humanistic creatures began to appear. The Green Lords are not really Fae. They are human in appearance like the Sidhe, but their powers are more similar to Brownie and Elven powers than Sidhe. They are more powers of wild magic and creation.*
‘Whoa for a sec. So to be clear, Fae and Elves both exist and are not the same thing.’
*Yes, Jack. Shall I continue?*
‘Uh...yeah. I may come back to that again later.’
*Certainly, Jack. So as the Green Lord exercised his powers to shape creation, he gained many allies, followers, and enemies. Among his followers were the Elves, Dryads, and Brownies - almost without exception. Dwarves, Shapeshifters, Demi-fey, and Goblins in all their varieties tend to be more independent spirits, but there were many allies and even some followers among them because the nurturing leadership of the Green Lord appealed to them. Chief among his enemies were the Sidhe. They were jealous of the love his followers gave him and that he in return gave to them. The Sidhe by their very nature crave intimacy, but they tend to be venal creatures. Their greed for power frequently lead them to destroy the very intimacy they crave.*
‘The Sidhe seem like humans with superpowers. Personality-wise we sound similar.’
*Well Jack, humans are more driven by fear and feelings of inadequacy, but there are similarities. The Green Lords knew also, that there are exceptions to every rule. They tended to be very practical, and they also tended to gain wisdom quickly. They were also ruthless with those who would hurt their own. The wrath of creation is awesome to behold.*
‘Voice 2’ pauses for a moment, *I digress, Jack. The enemies of the Green Lords grew more adept and more powerful over generations. Finally, we, his followers decided to create a set of armor and arms that would serve the line of the Green Lord for eternity to help protect the standing Lord against the powers of the Sidhe. It was imbued with the essences physical, spiritual, and magical of all of his allies and followers. Competitions were held to select who would have the honor of participating in creation of the armor. The armor was forged by the best elven and dwarven smiths, the sacrifices were made, and the essences and powers were imbued in the pieces.*
‘What do you mean sacrifices?’ ...
‘Spill it! This pregnant pause has me nervous. What do you mean sacrifices?’
*Just that, Jack. The volunteers gave their lives, so their souls could power the various pieces of the set.*
‘WHAT!?! You gotta be kidding me! I thought these Green Lords were these benevolent powers of creation. How. The. Fuck. Does a benevolent, wise leader sacrifice his people and trap their souls for eternity?’
*Kph…*
‘AND?’
*The Green Lord did not know that we did this. It was done through agreements by his people behind his back fearing he would never agree. The competitions were quietly arranged between people in the know to find his most fanatically loving followers. We did not execute it flawlessly.*
*The volunteer for the gauntlet on your right hand was a fierce goblin warrior. He died in an attack on the Green Lord by the Sidhe the day before he was to sacrifice himself. We had already forged the gauntlet as a match to the shield for the left side to the point that the metal was ready to accept the soul of the sacrifice, but the sacrifice was absent. We were at a loss what to do because the materials needed to create it were in short supply. If we didn’t imbue at the right time, we would lose the article. The smith was pulling his hair in frustration when Jordan walked in.”
*Jordan was a ten-year old squire for the Green Lord himself. He was an orphan, human and mute; so, he would never be fully capable as a knight because he couldn’t communicate on the battlefield. Additionally he had no family to help him get a trade. But the Lord saw his devotion, took him under his wing, and taught him as he would any other young squire with one exception. Instead of turning his tutelage over to the Weapons Master, the Green Lord taught the boy himself. He loved that boy like a son. His sons treated him like a little brother. Everyone but the Lord always forgot Jordan was around. Consequently, he heard and noticed things going on in the court. He knew of our plans, and our panic. He walked in to where we were deliberating and banged the table to get our attention. He pointed at the gauntlet, and then he pointed his finger at his own breast. Very slowly he nodded. He handed the smith two folded pieces of paper one addressed to the smith and one to the Lord. The one to the smith said ‘I will gladly sacrifice my life to protect the precious hand of my lord. He has trained me to serve as his squire, but I can serve him better with my life. I will protect him like no other. Please use the knife he gave me to take my life. Please give the other note to my father when you present him the armor. It will mean everything to me.’ *
*After the smith read the note, he looked Jordan in the eye. Jordan nodded once with a smile, after which he walked to the gauntlet, pulled out his knife, and held it aloft for his own death. The magicians laid him down in the location designed for the sacrifices. The smith confirmed all was in readiness, and the magicians began their rituals. At the appropriate time one of the magicians picked up the boy’s knife and put a hand over his eyes. Jordan pulled the hand off his eyes and looked the magician in his eyes. Then he nodded, and the magician took his life. The other magicians captured his soul as it left his body and imbued it into the gauntlet. The rituals ended, and the deed was done. Tears ran down all our faces. I.* …
‘Keep going.’
*After a short time the smith closed the boys eyes. The young maiden apprentices to the magicians took his body away to clean it and prepare his ashes for the final binding ritual for the gauntlet.”
*When we presented the armor to the reigning Green Lord, he went into a rage at all the lives sacrificed for him. He screamed and ranted, ‘This is the kind of thing THEY would do.’ He was right. If they knew it was possible they would sacrifice thousands to figure it out. He yelled ‘Who? Whom of my loyal people did you kill?’ He would not be swayed by the willingness of the sacrifices. Finally we raised each piece of armor and told him the name of each. He screamed and raged at each name, all beloved members of his extended family. With only the gauntlet left, the Master Smith handed him the note from Jordan. He looked back and forth between the gauntlet and the written address on the note. ‘No,’ he whispered as he fell to his knees weep
ing. His eldest son took the note gently from his hands and shot the Master Smith a raging look that portended his death. The son read the note, ‘Beloved Father, please do not be cross with them or with me. Our love for you knows no bounds. I know that to you I am not a poor orphan boy, but rather your beloved son. I treasure your love and that of my brothers, sisters, and mothers that I’ve gained because you have welcomed me into your household. I treasure them more than life itself. You have known since I became your squire that I would gladly give my life to ensure that you are never even scratched by an enemy or to protect our family. This sacrifice that I make now is no different. All of us that make this sacrifice do it out of love for you and all you stand for. Know that I will always be with you, on the same strong right hand that taught me love and honor. Your son, Jordan.’ The Lord fell to the ground with his sorrow and continued to weep for a long moment. Eventually, he rose. He silently picked up the gauntlet and left the room.*
*He never wore any of the armor. It sat in a special chamber in the armory guarded closely by the Lord’s fiercest, most able warriors. The Lord slowly waned; although he was still relatively young, the life drained out of him rapidly from his sorrow. When he was particularly troubled or before battle, he was observed to hold the gauntlet in his hand as he paced. As his health waned, he turned over the duties of the Green Lord to his second-eldest son. The eldest supported his father and younger brother in this; although, he too had all the qualities of a fine Green Lord. The Lord and his two eldest sons walked through the courtyards discussing the succession, and all agreed to the decision. One of the guards of the special storage vault overheard them and was discussing it with his comrades as they stood vigil. Apparently the elder was favored by the younger for the job, but the eldest declined on the grounds that his rage was too great at the sacrifices to create the armor and the pain it caused his father. He supposedly said, ‘The people will love whoever takes on the mantle. They regard us all highly. I don’t ever want to be in a position for them to sacrifice like that for me.’ Most Green Lords reigned for over 500 years; the last reigned for nearly 1,200 years. Our Lord died one night at only 75 years old. He kissed his wife and went to bed. When she came to bed, she found him lying on the covers flat on his back, holding the gauntlet in both hands.*
*So Jack, I ask you not to judge your ancestor harshly. He was as appalled by our creation as you are. It took three more generations of subsequent Green Lords before they set aside their horror to put the armor to use as it was intended. Later generations were less inclined to let the sacrifice go to waste. Later generations occasionally experienced having no male heir with a suitable temperament; therefore, a Green Lady reigned rather than a Green Lord. Generally, the Green Lady might wear the armor. It wasn’t a problem as we adjust to the person in the role. Other times the Lady might not have a warrior’s spirit; so, she might appoint a Green Knight and give the armor to him to wear.*
*About 4,000 years ago the last Green Lord was slain in battle without a designated heir. That is another sad tale. The end result was the Seelie, or Summer Court, Sidhe captured his armor as a trophy after the battle. Initially, the Summer Queen gave the armor to her Summer Knight, but it became the fashion after a couple of generations to create a Green Knight in the Seelie court in addition to the Summer Knight. I never understood the rationale. Maybe they were trying to use the legendary reputation and fear of the Green Lord and Green Knight among the Sidhe. Over time, they forgot where the title came from. I doubt the Sidhe retain any history of the Green Lords and think that Green Knights are legends that originated in the Summer Court.*
‘We are going to need to revisit some of this later. I think you covered tons of important information that I should better understand, but I have the gist well enough for now. Let’s move on. So...based on a couple of verbal stumbles and your mention of the Master Smith presenting to the Lord, I am assuming you were the smith that came up with the idea.’
*Yes, my Lord. I still think it was a great idea, but I didn’t know at the time that magically embedding souls into the items was the only way to put the...control interface to use your word...into them. I suspect there might have been another way to do it, but my level of magical knowledge was and is insufficient to argue the topic. I’ll probably never know for certain.*
‘I’m not going to refer to you by the name of the piece of the set, the set, or by your former profession. You have a name. What is it?’
*Please Lord. Let my name disappear as it should.*
‘Nope. You chose to capture all these souls for eternity. Each of those souls deserves to be remembered, including yours. What is your name?’
*My name is Durec, Lord. I was a half-dwarven/half-elven master-level smith in the court of the Green Lord. Hybrids between these two particular races were rare, not because the races were not willing to copulate, but rather because it’s difficult for the biology to work itself properly to create a viable being. I could not father children; so, I was looking for another way to leave a legacy. My pride wrought the death of nine loyal loving servants of our Lord, one of them was my beloved wife Eliana.*
‘Durec, you’ve made mistakes. Everyone does. I cannot imagine doing what you did to create the armor, but I can understand the level of devotion that would cause you to give your life for another. It is my honor to meet you. My name is Jacques Guillaume Jerome. I ask you again to call me Jack.’
*Thank you, Lord … Jack*
‘You’re doing that intentionally, aren’t you. Never mind. Durec, I’ve been wondering about why you’re giving me this detailed history lesson. Don’t get me wrong, but that was a lot of backstory for “I’m one piece of a set of sentient armor.” Why?’
*I already indicated the answer, Jack*
‘Somehow I find myself dreading this...you mentioned my ancestor. Are you telling me I’m a descendant of the Green Lords?’
*Yes, Lord Jack. After the last Lord was killed in battle, both courts of the Sidhe hunted the descendants of the Green Lords. They called the Green Lords 'abominations.' I have heard of no descendents of any significant percentage in over 3,000 years. The elves probably have more accurate records. As you can imagine, I’m limited to what I overhear or what is related to me by others. I do know the last Green Knight of the Seelie went on a hunt for a rumored abomination about 80 years ago - he didn’t find anyone. I sense you the green heritage. I don't know how much of it you have, but it was enough for your blood to call to Jacob and myself when the Green Knight fought you..*
‘So what does that really mean? I am human, Durec. No super powers here, especially “powers of creation.” I can’t even conceive what that means.’
*Jack, tell me how you came to come into contact with the Green Knight today.*
‘The short version is that I met a woman named Myra yesterday who rocked my world on every possible level. We connected, became lovers, and when I ran into some inconvenience this morning she offered to take me along and loan me her driver, Trina, to help me deal with my business for the next couple of days. As we travelled today, I learned Myra is the crown princess of the Winter Court when we spied the Green Douchebag following us. We were approaching Sedona when the Green Douchebag and the 7 Douchettes forced us off the road to capture her. Despite her attempts to downplay the danger, I refused to let them take her or hurt her. I used subterfuge to arm her while she was talking to the Summer Prince, and then I killed him, the sword-swinging Douchette, and the Green Douchebag; although, I think Trina gets credit for the kill on the last one. I used the dagger Jacob held to finish any survivors.’
*Her name is Eventide.*
‘Right. I killed them all with Eventide.’
*Ok Jack, here’s what I heard. You attacked enemies that significantly outnumbered you, risking your safety to save those you love...to the point of intentionally putting yourself in a very vulnerable position to enable your loved one to improve her survival odds. Then you ferociously attacked better armed opponents with impro
vised weapons. Those, my Lord Jack - that level of love and sacrifice - are the characteristics of a Green Lord.*
‘Certainly…’ I notice someone approaching the SUV. I school my face to the front and start channeling Enthralled GC. ‘Hold that thought Durec.’
*With your permission Jack, I would like to move from your forearm to your torso to improve your protection.*
‘Do it, and then go quiet.’ I see a male model in my peripheral vision tapping on the window. Then the door opens wide, and he looks in.
He looks at me and then sneers, “What are you doing in there, mortal?”
I keep looking forward and rapidly blink my eyes. Using the sing-song voice I answer, “I’m waiting for Princess Myra. She told me to stay here.”
He’s aghast, “Goddess, she has toasted your brain You pathetic beast. I think I should just put you out of your misery.”
I hear a familiar voice lay the sarcasm on, “Yeah Lorn, thinking has never been your strong point. Don’t hurt yourself. Shouldn’t you be leaning on a pillar somewhere looking pretty?”
Lorn sounds rather put out, “You know I’m in charge here, Trina.”
“Wow, Lorn! The knights trust you enough to give you authority over parking in the garage? You are really moving up in the world!” She appears in my periphery within arms reach of Lorn.
“Yeah well, I didn’t grow up with the princess; so, I didn’t get the same ‘in’ as you, cunt!” I may have to kill this prat.
“Sure, Lorn. Next you’ll say I’m sleeping with her. I tell you what. You don’t mess with the Princess’ latest toy, and I don’t rip your head off and shit down your throat.”
I think, ‘Okay, it’s official. I’m in love with her after all.’
The asshat gives his best retort, “Umm...umm...uh”
Trina sounds likes she’s talking to an annoying child, “Okay Lorn, you’re boring me.” Her hand moves toward his head, and then I see him drop and reach for his head. ‘Don’t look, Jack,’ I tell myself.
