Nothing exciting ever happens in Humilde.
It was probably the only place on Planet ULTRA in which that could be said, honestly. Throughout its several hundred years of existence, not a single interesting thing had occurred there. No battles, no natural disasters, no one of note had been born there, nothing. It hadn’t expanded or shrunk during that time period, and every single building currently within the village’s bounds had existed since the village’s founding. Well, barring the fuel station, as fuel stations did not exist until a few decades prior, and Humilde did not acquire one until about three or so weeks ago in an attempt to modernize the village. Of course, that ultimately turned out to be irrelevant and a frankly stupid decision, as no one in Humilde possessed or had access to any sort of vehicle that ran on fuel.
There wasn’t even anything in the way of trashy gossip scandals, and that’s how you know you’re scraping the bottom of the barrel for stimulation. No bloody fights, no cheating spouses, no stolen toys, no hidden stash of drugs. I suppose if you had pretty low standards for “interesting”, you could maybe bring up the year in which the quinquennial mayoral election had a tie between the two candidates, but considering that turned out to just be a miscounting because two of the voting slips were kinda stuck together and was fixed after a simple recount, even that would be a stretch.
But that all changed one fateful night.
Mary lived the life of a simple housewife. Her husband James was a carpenter who brought home the dough, while Mary stayed home and took care of their two children, John and Robert. When she wasn’t doing that, she was cooking, cleaning, or tending to her garden in the backyard. I’ll give you a moment to slap your cheek to keep yourself awake.
The sun had already set, and the kids had been tucked into bed. James had just gotten home from work, and after receiving a peck on the cheek, he sat down at the dinner table to chow down on some good ol’ nondescript stew.
Mary, about ready to go to sleep herself, remembered that she had left her kerchief out in the garden earlier that day. Not wanting it to potentially get caught in the rain later that night, she headed outside to retrieve it. After all, her grandmother had sewn it for her using hairs from Mary’s dear, deceased pet rabbit, Snowball, weaving sentimental value between each stitch.
The night air was cooler than usual, but she chalked that up to the rainstorm that was projected to roll on through in a few hours. Luckily for her, the kerchief was exactly in the same spot she had left it in — atop the wooden fencing near the salvia herbs.
But the instant she scooped it up, she felt a cold hand grip tightly around her ankle.
She let out a scream of fear and stumbled backward, falling flat on her back into the dirt. The darkness of the night mixed together with her fear, crafting a brew of disorientation her mind instantly downed. Her hands and eyes scrambled in all directions in an attempt to discern which direction was up, which was the ground, and where her body factored into the equation.
What had grabbed her? Was it a goblin? A burglar? Was it Tom, the village homeless man? Or perhaps it was just some inanimate object that her paranoid mind had processed as a human hand?
She frantically looked down to her restrained foot for an answer.
Nay. It was, in fact, a hand. But not the hand of a goblin, or even a human being.
It was the cold, boney hand of a skelemental!
* * * *
ULTRA KNIGHT
* * * *
“Well I’ll be…. Is that who I think it is?”
Sariah opened her eyes as the light of the teleporter she had just stepped through died down around her. After confirming that that familiar voice had come from a familiar face, she smiled and stepped forward into a familiar embrace. “Long time no see, Roy.”
“I’ll say,” came the response. Roy was incredibly tall and very well-built, and the armor and gold-trimmed white cloak he wore added even more mass onto his giant frame. Sariah herself was on the taller side of women, but even she was dwarfed by her old friend’s massive body. Were one to observe their hug from a short distance away, one might think Sariah were being devoured by a cloud. “But you haven’t changed at all.”
“Oh I definitely have,” said Sariah as the two broke their hug. “Don’t be fooled by the dye.”
“What? Going gray already?”
“I’m thirty-five. It’s not that weird.”
Roy ran a hand through his own bright-brown locks with the dramatic flair of a shampoo commercial. “Well I’ve got five years on you and not a single gray in sight.”
The two made their way towards the door, which slid open for them automatically with a satisfying thwishhhh. While Sariah had never been to this particular location before, the architecture and general atmosphere of the place was very, very similar to the other Ecclesian churches she had been to, and thus she felt right at home.
It was a lot smaller than the one she grew up with, but that was to be expected. Everything other than the wilderness was smaller in this part of the world, from the population to the sizes of the cities. But still, the church itself was pristinely-maintained, as they always were.
“Is it always this empty?” she asked her companion.
Roy nodded. “I’ve only been here a few weeks, but yes. There’s only about a half dozen or so staff members stationed here permanently. Everyone else is on loan from other churches.”
The two began to walk down the corridor towards the nave. Sariah’s eyes honed in on the beautiful paintings and sculptures lining the walls; Ecclesian art was widely-regarded as some of the most technically-masterful and aesthetically pleasing in the world, whether it was in one of the cathedrals in the capital or a small-town church like this one. This location’s curator seemed to have a fondness for landscapes and open seas, which logically went hand-in-hand with the area’s relative lack of civilization.
“I heard you just got back from another one of your vacations,” Roy said. “How long was this one?”
“Almost eight months.”
He whistled. “They’re getting longer and longer, huh?”
Sariah shrugged her shoulders. “Work-life balance is important, right?”
“I’m happy for you. This is much better than overworking yourself like you usually do.”
“Definitely. My body’s not as young as it used to be.”
Roy chuckled. “Ha. You’re telling me?” He patted the side of his stomach. “One little thwack from a novice in training with a wooden sword and I get a bruise for almost a week now.”
The door at the end of the hallway automatically slid open for them as well, allowing the two to step out into the nave proper. There was one sister cleaning the stained glass windows and a woman praying by the Mother Dragon statue at the altar. Other than that, the place was empty.
“So what did you do on your vacation?” said Roy.
“Feel free to guess,” Sariah responded, bowing her head respectfully as she passed by the sister cleaning the windows, having done that work herself many years ago. “Anything you come up with’ll be more interesting than reality.”
“Hmmmm….surfing?”
“No beaches back home, sadly.”
“Hunting?”
“I try to leave the guns at work.”
“Boyfriend?”
That got a chuckle. “I don’t do relationships. You know that.”
“Ah, yes. A great tragedy. Any man would be blessed to have you at his side.”
Sariah rolled her eyes, albeit with a smile. Throughout her life, she had been teased for her stance on relationships, particularly by her friends in the Ecclesia. But in recent times, she had begun to take statements like those as the compliments they were (usually) intended to be, rather than viewing them as dismissive of her values.
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When the two arrived beside the fourth row of pews, Roy turned around and motioned toward the nearby wall. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
With a nod, Sariah placed her palm on the wall. A neon-green light formed around her hand for a brief moment before vanishing. “It was great seeing you again, Roy.”
“The pleasure was all mine, Sariah.”
She then stepped right into the wall.
The room on the other side was identical to the hidden ones at every other Ecclesian church — circular, lit solely by the green hue of the large monitor on the back wall, and furnished only by a long meeting table at the center. And chairs, obviously.
The usual suspects were already inside as well. Bianca sat at the back of the meeting table, fiddling with her laptop as was often the case. She had her feet propped up on the table, with her torso lazily sprawled over the arm of her chair. There was a paper bowl of Ulty’s fries balancing lazily on her chest. One by one, she would try her best to grab hold of a fry with just her teeth and as little head movement as possible, but judging by the fullness of the bowl and the cluster of salt specks on her cheeks, she didn’t seem to be doing particularly well.
On the other side of the table, positioned closer to the screen was Lady Raschell; teacup in one hand, book in the other. She was the polar opposite of Bianca, maintaining perfect posture and exuding an air of nobility and deliberation in every bit of motion. Clean, aromatic, and optimized in her movements. The picture-perfect image of the wife of a baron. That is, until one caught a glimpse of the cover of the book she happened to be reading — Gunmetal Robo Vol. 12: Put the Gear of God Into ‘Em! With how quickly her eyes darted across the pages, she seemed to be quite into it.
And, of course, displayed on the large monitor via video chat was none other than King Garn Chameel, the leader of the nation of Aeon. King Garn was never able to actually meet with the rest of the group in person, but thanks to Bianca’s tech-savviness, was able to participate in all of their meetings through video chat. As soon as Sariah entered the room, his big, loveable lizard face lit up into a bright, welcoming smile, which Sariah returned.
However, there was one other individual in the room this time, seated across from Lady Raschell. Sariah had never seen him before, and deduced that he must have been a new recruit who joined while she had been on vacation.
The first thing she noted was how young he appeared; he likely hadn’t even hit his twenties yet. Nineteen, perhaps. While Sariah was used to being the oldest on the team, having a new member fifteen or so years her junior was….something else. He was traditionally handsome; nice masculine features, but with that tint of pretty-boy-ness to soften the whole picture. Like Roy, he was dressed in the usual white-and-gold uniform of the Ecclesian Knights, so that was clearly where he had been stationed prior.
“Fabulous! Welcome back, Miss Sariah!” King Garn greeted cheerfully. “Did you enjoy your vacation?”
“I did, Your Majesty,” Sariah responded. “But I’m ready to get back to work.”
“Excellent!” said the King. “And what fortuitous timing! We just caught wind of a curious case this morning!”
As King Garn readied his notes off-screen, Sariah glanced over at the new guy across the table. While he put forth the image of a composed and manly professional, as the Knights were trained to, she could tell that it was part facade. Perhaps he felt a bit insecure being the young and inexperienced one, or maybe it was because a lazy computer wiz, a prim noblewoman, and a giant talking lizard on a projector didn’t make for great casual conversation partners for a nineteen-year-old boy. And Sariah certainly wasn’t going to change that fact.
But the actual answer was much simpler than that. After noticing him sneak several rapid corner-of-the-eye peeks in Lady Raschell’s direction in the span of a mere few seconds, it became clear to Sariah: it seemed the new guy had a little schoolboy crush.
Or was hugely racist against elves….but it was probably the former.
Clearing his throat, King Garn began to read the statement he had prepared. “Last night, in the nearby village of Humilde, a poor family was attacked by strange monsters! Startling! Fortunately, there were no casualties!”
“Lame,” Bianca muttered before finally managing to grab hold of a fry.
“But most interestingly….according to the victim, she was saved by….!”
* * * *
ULTRA KNIGHT
* * * *
Another horrified scream escaped Mary’s throat. In a panic, her other foot kicked out at the skull of the monster, but it appeared to feel nothing from the impact. In fact, it was Mary herself who was hurt from the act, as the skelemental’s head felt more akin to unbreakable metal than rotting bone.
The back door of the home snapped open as James hurried outside in response to his wife’s screams. “Mary?!”
A small explosion in the dirt near Mary’s head blew out her hearing for a few seconds, drowning out her husband’s voice. Another skelemental hand erupted from the ground and grabbed a hold of her mouth, preventing her from making any more noise.
A third skelemental clawed its way out of the earth a few feet behind her, facing the house. There were two small, green lights buried deep in the sockets of the otherwise-hollow skull of the monster’s face, and they were directed at the open door that James had left.
As the skelemental hobbled over to the door, James reappeared, rifle in hand. He blasted the monster twice in the torso, but the bullets ricocheted off. The third shot landed square in the center of the forehead, but once again the monster was completely unfazed.
“What?!” James roared as he fired off more shots. The bullets did nothing, no matter where they struck, and the skelemental continued to approach. James finally had the sense to stop shooting as the last bullet bounced right off of the monster’s head and whizzed right by his own, blasting a hole in the refrigerator.
Meanwhile, tears welled up in Mary’s eyes as the skelementals had her almost entirely encased in their boney limbs. A palm over her face rendered her almost completely blinded, and the powerful grip of another hand began to drag her body down into the hole the monsters had just emerged from.
She was going to die.
“U-KNIGHT!”
A knight in shining silver-white armor jetted into the backyard in a flash, and in an even shorter span of time, an enormous claymore cleaved right through the arms of the skelementals who had ensnared Mary, freeing her from their grips.
The one approaching the home spun around to face the knight, but met a gruesome end as the heavy blade split its skull and ribcage clean in half.
With the monsters now defeated, the silver knight calmly sheathed his sword into its back-mounted scabbard.
Mary frantically pulled her arm out of the hole in the ground, trembling as she scrambled to her feet and raced over to the arms of her husband. The two huddled close together, watching as the silver knight nodded at them before returning to the darkness of the night.
* * * *
ULTRA KNIGHT
* * * *
“….the ULTRA Knight! Incredible!”
Lady Raschell took a sip of tea, her eyes still glued to her high-brow literature. “Ridiculous.”
“How so, Lady Raschell?” Garn asked.
“The ULTRA Knight has been dead for four hundred years, Your Majesty.”
Bianca let out a yawn, stretching her arms out at the same time. Unfortunately, she wasn’t paying much attention, and ended up dropping her fries all over the floor. With an exaggerated pout, she picked one up and popped it into her mouth. “Oh yeah? Where’s he buried then?” When no response came, Bianca smirked.
King Garn looked over to Sariah next. “Miss Sariah? Any thoughts?”
Sariah leaned back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest. She had been with the Ecclesia her entire life (and thus longer than anyone else in G13), and as such, was often deferred to on matters regarding the church. “There is no body. The ULTRA Knight sacrificed himself to save Planet ULTRA, and died in an explosion in outer space.”
“So it could be him!” King Garn said. “Astounding!”
“Possibly. There isn’t a lot of information on him at all. We know he came from Planet ULTRA and swore to The Mother Dragon that he would defend it for the rest of time. He existed before the Ecclesia did, and there are no records of him before he appeared to aid The Mother Dragon.”
Picking up another fry and blowing a strand of her scraggly blue hair off of it, Bianca said, “‘For the rest of time’, huh? Last time I checked, time’s still going, so….”
Lady Raschell’s eyes narrowed, and she finally put her book down. “He appeared over eight hundred years ago, Bianca, and died four hundred years afterwards. No one lives for four hundred years. Not even my kind.”
“Maybe he’s a god or something.”
Finally, the new guy decided to take his turn speaking. “I don’t think it’s the ULTRA Knight either. It’s probably just an impostor.”
“Thank you, Lance,” Lady Raschell said. In response, his cheeks reddened.
“Big surprise the rookie agrees with you again,” Bianca said, rolling her eyes. She didn’t have anything else to say, and instead opted to spin around in her swivel chair, clearly bored out of her gourd. Despite how short of an exchange that was, it had given Sariah a pretty good idea of the group dynamic now that the rookie had been added to the equation. Bianca was as argumentative as ever, and this likely was not the first time Lance had come to Lady Raschell’s defense.
“How far is Humilde from here?” Sariah asked, breaking the silence that had followed the argument.
Another happy grin appeared on King Garn’s big goofy reptilian face. “About three miles to the south! Are you planning to head there, Miss Sariah?”
“Yeah,” she replied in her usual flat, direct tone, standing up.
“Swell! It’s truly good to have you back, Miss Sariah!”
Just as she made it to the door (blank wall) of the room, she looked back over her shoulder at Lance. “Rookie. Come with me.”
A bewildered expression made its way to Lance’s face. “Huh?”
“We’re going to Humilde. Hurry up.”
“Uh….alright?”
* * * *
ULTRA KNIGHT
* * * *
“U-KNIGHT!”
The knight blasted his shoulder right into the sternum of the skelemental. The monster attempted to bite into the knight’s neck right then and there, but a quick backward lean and clean sword unsheathing put a halt to that plan as the monster’s skull exploded in two.
The massive blade cut through the monster all the way to the floor with an enormous THUD. It created a gash in the earth just from the landing impact, as well as a cloud of dust. To the experienced eye, it looked like a somewhat sloppy maneuver — like the blade was too heavy for the knight to wield properly….
A cluster of three more skelementals rushed in from behind. The knight barely had enough time to retrieve the sword from the ground, but was able to throw out a powerful horizontal swing, slicing the entire trio of monsters in half.
Despite being dismantled by the swing, one of the skelementals refused to quit; that dim green light still shone in its eye sockets. As the knight turned away to continue marching onward, the skelemental grabbed hold of the ground and flung itself forward like a catapult, not needing its lower body to continue pursuing its prey.
The knight was caught off guard as the skelemental chomped at his abdomen. Its powerful teeth were able to pierce through the shining silver plating, drawing blood.
That was the only attack the skelemental could manage, as the knight plunged his sword through the side of the skull like a skewer, forever dimming the green light buried deep within its eyes.
The knight’s hand pressed up against the bite mark, and came back covered in blood. Blood that then turned to silvery-white particles of light that flitted away in the breeze like dust.