Chapter 4: The Knight Commander
I felt my blood chill. The words were whispered directly into my ear. So much so that I could feel the speaker’s warm breath giving me goosebumps on the back of my neck. Yet I couldn’t see anyone in my peripherals.
The other occupants of the little apartment had also begun to stir while I had been distracted. Did they not hear that ominous reverberating voice? Seeing no surprise or shock in their gaze suggested that they hadn’t.
I tried again to reveal my identity to my friend by pulling down my mask, only to find my body still paralyzed. It seemed that something or someone didn’t want me to reconnect with her.
“What business do you have with these good people, knave?” she commanded, her voice dripping with disdain, her distaste for me plainly visible.
She rose with effortless grace, her demeanour radiating confidence as she moved to stand before me. My dreams had shown her to be my equal in every way, standing shoulder to shoulder with me in even the direst of circumstances. So, I desperately needed to stop tensions from ratcheting up because of any possible misunderstanding here.
I was drawing a blank while trying to recall anything substantive about her. Even her name was out of reach.
“Noble ser, I meant no disrespect. I was instructed by the count to inform the tenant of this apartment to vacate,” I said, bowing respectfully to her, showing my deference to her station. It seemed the enigmatic entity would not impede me in any way unless I tried to reveal to my old friend any clue about my identity.
The raven-haired beauty scoffed, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. She turned around and beckoned the older redhead to join her in a hushed discussion in the corner. Their voices were barely above a whisper, but the intensity of their exchange was not lost on me.
“…nothing but polite…” the redhead’s muffled voice drifted over, her tone a mix of reassurance and curiosity.
“…must learn why…” the raven-haired beauty’s reply was sharper, her gaze flicking back to me.
Once their conversation concluded, she returned to her position before me, obviously sizing me up.
I patiently awaited her judgement having straightened my posture somewhat, although still in a slightly hunched over subservient pose.
“Lower your mask, stranger,” she commanded, in an authoritative tone.
I wanted to voice my inability to comply with her order, yet I found that my hands had instinctively moved to obey her order. Feeling a bit baffled but also relieved, I eagerly pulled down my face mask.
Her eyes, I noted, did not register the surprise and joy I had expected. They were in fact clouded with confusion. Seeing no recognition at all on her part had my heart sink in despair.
‘Was I mistaken after all’
Aww, don’t worry, little sun. Your secret is safe with me,” the voice whispered cheerfully, its words carrying a subtle weight that gave me a strong sense of déjà vu.
On a hunch, I reached up to touch my forehead, expecting to feel the presence of something embedded there. Instead, my fingers traced the contours of my face, which felt aged, with sunken eyes, sagging cheeks, and a network of deep wrinkles. I had to restrain myself from letting my surprise show.
I felt a strange relief, despite knowing I should be concerned about what had been done to me.
‘Why are you doing this to me?’ My complaint hovered on the tip of my tongue, but I managed to swallow it down with some effort.
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I heard no riposte, though I was half-expecting one. Such a nonchalant display of unfathomable power, moulding reality like a potter shapes soft clay, unmistakably revealed their true identity. The cold grip of fear took hold, and I could feel beads of sweat beginning to form on my brow. No good ever came from attracting the attention of the divine. They were all fickle and unconstrained from human morality.
“No there’s nothing on your face old-timer.” It seemed my friend had gotten a bit distracted by my self-examination. Hang on had she just called me old. Although technically not wrong I’d prefer to be called timeless. And wasn’t she about my age. The gall calling me old.
In this world if you were rich and powerful enough the ravages of time could be kept at bay almost indefinitely by employing the services of a life mage, so judging the age of someone by their physical appearance was quite foolhardy. Plus, that didn’t take into account that most preternatural species enjoyed much longer natural lifespans.
I was getting distracted though with inane trivia. My overseer had apparently made me appear old enough to confuse my long-time friend. What a terrifying thought indeed. As I mulled over the implications, she continued speaking to me, entirely oblivious to my internal turmoil.
“Rest assured, I will look into this matter myself. If what you say holds to be true, I will personally hand back the keys of the apartment to the count. You have my word, old timer,” she said, taking an oath with her right hand over her heart. The oath of a knight was supposed to carry weight and a certain finality to it.
While her tone had been firm, I could not help but notice a dark undercurrent. There was more to the promise than met the eye. Feeling I had done all I could here, I hastily said my goodbyes and left.
Outside I found Grog leaning against the front door of the apartment, keeping it shut.
He looked me up and down, raising a curious eyebrow at my haggard appearance “What happened to you? You look like you've seen a ghost.”
Grog had recognized me instantly, meaning the overseer had removed the aging effect from my body. However, he was mistaken. What truly terrified me was the implication that a divine entity had taken an interest in me and was likely behind my predicament. Gods and the divine rarely, if ever, played nice with mortals, and very few survived their whims for long.
The shock of the implications had helped me untangle more of my hazy memories. My stint in gladiatorial tournaments hadn’t gone unnoticed by the powers that be. My absolute dominating showing had quickly attracted a lot of unwanted attention.
Tales of my deeds reached the ears of the Imperial Mage Council, creating quite a furore and raising intense speculation about my origins.
The empire’s administration had eventually theorized that I might be a demigod since it was widely known that demigods possess far superior physiques as compared to their mortal parents.
That was a huge problem, as unfettered demigods were not liked by anyone. They were a risk to both the general populace and their rulers.
So, I had been coerced into joining the military. Oh sure, I had been promised knighthood after a few years of service to sweeten the deal, but I never forgot that offer was just another way to bell the cat. Nor did I forget that the administration had subtly threatened my father's home for building code violations to force my consent. The kingdom claimed to have a ‘voluntary army’ that eschewed the use of levies, but it always press-ganged hapless poor into service when it needed the extra manpower.
Taking a moment to centre my thoughts, I lowered my tone to avoid drawing the attention of the apartment’s occupants. “We were given incomplete information, big guy. There’s a knight commander inside, merrily conversing with the ‘squatters’.”
Grog’s face had quickly morphed from a neutral expression to shock. Then a look of understanding settled on his face. “Yikes, that's way above our pay grade. I hope you made it clear to them that these were the count’s orders,” he said, his tone was a fair bit quieter than before.
“I did, and they said they would confirm our orders with the count before deciding their course of action”
Shrugging, the giant started to depart, with me slowly following him. “I think that's the best we could have done given the circumstances, I'll go back and report to the steward. You have the rest of the day off.”
Acknowledging the dismissal, I made my way to join the throngs of people in the streets, waiting for the retreating parade. My eyes, unlike theirs, were fixed on the ratty structure, wondering whether I could puzzle out my friend's movements and why she was here. Guarai was nowhere near the front lines. Another thing was bothering me was when had Aniansi been promoted to the title of Knight Commander. Yes, that was her name, it felt good to be able to recall the name of one of the few people who had been responsible in shaping me into the man I was today.
I suppose being of noble descent she would have had an easier time climbing the military ranks and her core competency in battle couldn't be questioned. But still, if I recall correctly, there were less than a dozen Knight-Commander ranked officers in the entire empire at a given point in time. So, the competition wasn't exactly mild for a spot on the illustrious order.
The other thing which had piqued my curiosity was what was Aniansi’s connection to the copper-haired family. I couldn't think of anything from the top of my head, but I was sure she hadn't mentioned them to me. Aniansi wasn't exactly a subtle person to begin with, less so with people she’d considered a friend. It was this straightforward personality of hers which was so highly complementary to my own that had allowed us to become such fast friends in bootcamp.
Her noble heritage hadn't been an asset to her for most of her life. Being the fourth child of a near-destitute baron had given her the upbringing of normal nobility with an inkling that she’d never get to keep any of those perks. But it was precisely this gulf in our social strata that had stroked the sparks of curiosity in me and pushed me to reach out to her at bootcamp. And she had torn down all my preconceived notions of her in particular, and the aristocracy and nobility in general.
But I was just distracting myself from the elephant in the room. I had become the unwitting plaything of a higher power. I suspected that of the seven domains, only the divinity of the space-time domain could display this particular powerset.
“What do you want from me, O Magnifique one” I spoke in a hushed but reverent tone. The divine were temperamental at the best of times; it was prudent not to provoke their ire unnecessarily.
I heard the eerie feminine whisper again, which sent goosebumps up my skin. “Succeed in my test, little sun. If you are able to, I will grant you a divine mandate.”
I didn’t bother pointing out that I never agreed to any of this in the first place. It would just fall on deaf ears anyways, as the divine always had a problem with consent.
“What do you expect me to do, Magnifique one?” I asked, my eyes still glued on the building.
“Survive your hubris”