Of the Girl Who Dreamed of Being a Knight

Ela groaned, trying to blink and clear her blurry vision. Something warm and wet was running down one side of her head, covering one of her eyes. Her stomach churned and her skull ached. Screaming pain radiated from her ribs. Darkness pressed to the edges of her sight, threatening to consume her again. Weakly, she tried to move, succeeding only in twitching around at first.

A sudden lurching motion threatened to make her vomit. Doing her best to hold her ragged breath, the blonde waited for the disquieting sensations to pass. She was being dragged somewhere. With great effort, the injured knight managed to roll her head to the other side, finding her cheek pressed to a stained cloth shirt. Momentarily, she panicked, before her rattled brain pieced together that it was John.

“Come… on…” he muttered under his breath, straining as he pulled her somewhere. Sweat poured over him and he was flushed red, but his expression was absolutely resolved. The heels of Ela’s armored boots silently clattered along the ground as she hung limply against him. The Gamer’s arms were hooked under hers, as he backed her up slowly through the ruined hospital.

’The hospital… right. What is going on?’ she wondered, trying to make sense of the world around her.

The weary blonde struggled to remember what had happened. The flickering lights of the darkened hallway offered no help, aggravating her headache. She squeezed her one clear eye shut, trying to calm her mind. She could only recall the burning sting of steel upon her flesh before an all-encompassing wave of nausea overcame her, and again she knew only darkness.

When next Ela awoke, most of the pain was gone, replaced by deep aches. Her head now rested on something softer, and she wasn’t moving. A cool piece of fabric had been laid over her forehead. Her body tingled with the all-too-familiar traces of healing magic. Uncomfortable dryness glued her mouth and throat shut.

She tried to open her eyes, but even the dimness of whatever room she was in was oppressive for her, initiating a fresh spout of dizziness. From somewhere in the back of her mind, information about the symptoms of concussion and head injury floated up. As her consciousness emerged from hazy delirium, the blonde tried to piece together what had happened.

Flashes of memory bubbled to the forefront - zombies, an unending storm, and a sword-wielding boss atop a blown-out hospital.

’The boss!’ Ela’s mind suddenly began to race. Adrenaline surged as she recalled the fight. On sheer **** of willpower alone, she tried to compel herself to move, concern for her friend overpowering her own discomfort. She allowed mana to pour out of her, bolstering her diminished strength with the power of the armor she wore. Gradually, she made herself sit up, blinking the daze from her eyes as she adjusted to the dim, flickering light of the room she was in. The wet cloth on her head nearly made her jump as it fell to her lap.

“Whoa. Hey!” Ela’s vision slowly focused onto a lanky, brown-haired figure, walking over towards her. John Newman bore an unashamedly relieved smile as he spoke, “Careful. I, uh, don’t know if my healing fixed everything.”

The blonde shuddered, tenseness in her muscles resisting her desire to move. “What- What happened?”

A shiver ran down her spine as she took another shaky breath. Shrugging off her weariness as best she could, Ela looked around. She was lying on the reception desk in the front room they’d come through before. The doorway inward had been closed, a metal pipe folded over the handles, and the whole thing frozen over. Her head had been resting on a folded Ashcroft jacket, its vibrant red color now muddied by dark stains.

The storm still grumbled angrily outside, the occasional roar of thunder sending a jolt through her. Rain peppered the building around them, never quite allowing silence to settle.

“You took a nasty combo from that thing upstairs,” he answered, carefully looking her over. “It was a bit unlucky, honestly. It tossed you sideways, and you landed head first on the corner of a stair.”

“Did- did you kill it?” A fit of coughing overtook her.

The Gamer chuckled lightly, swiping his hand through the air until a sports drink appeared, no doubt pulled from his inventory. He offered the beverage to her as he spoke, “Absolutely not. It was a small miracle that I managed to get away at all, a bigger one that it either didn’t follow or I lost it while dragging you back here.”

Ela greedily drank as she listened to John speak, alleviating the dryness within. She shuddered as flashes of her brief exchange with the boss replayed in her mind. It had been upon her so quickly that she’d never had a chance to properly mount a defense against it. The places where its blade had slashed her burned anew as she relived her defeat.

Wincing, she buried thoughts of the past that threatened to boil up. “I think I remember now.

“Thank you,” she said, earnestly. “This creature is much more powerful than the ones we have fought before.”

“Yeah,” John replied, leaning away now that his companion seemed stable. “Probably would have cut me in half if it had started with me. How are you feeling?”

Ela slid to one side, hanging her legs off the desk. She turned her own healing inward, checking herself over for any remaining injuries. Nearly all of her wounds had been closed already, though she needed to use her magic to finish mending the tears in her suit. The blonde smiled; she was cold and sore, but very much alive and well.

“All things considered, you did a fantastic job,” she sang, stretching gently. “For someone who learned the spell today, I am very impressed.”

John sighed with relief. “Really?”

Ela nodded, flexing her shoulders. Cautiously, she slid from the desk to her feet, standing under her own power again. Part of her groaned at first, but accepted it. She leaned over to stretch and touch her toes, then stood up and twisted side to side. Humming with satisfaction, the blonde confirmed that she was good to go.

“Sorry about your uniform,” she said, handing the ruined clothing back to him.

The Gamer shook that off, storing the jacket away. “I’ll buy a new one.

“Oh, uh, here.” John quickly materialized both Ela’s duffel bag and axe from where he’d hidden them away in his inventory. He slung the former over his shoulder and offered the latter to her. “I did manage to get away with these. I don’t mind carrying them for now, though, if you aren’t feeling up to it.”

The blonde reached out, gingerly grasping the handle of her axe. She wrapped her fingers around the smooth steel just below the head, taking the weight of the weapon from her companion. Its heft was familiar and, admittedly, comforting, given where they were.

“I owe you,” she said, taking the duffel from John as well.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he countered with a grin. “We’re a team, right?”

The genuine sincerity on his face struck her. They’d only just met the previous day, but his forthright joy at her survival was palpable. It almost made her sad, knowing the world he’d inadvertently wandered into. ’I do hope that the Abyss is kind to you, John Newman.’

“Yes, we are,” Ela replied, smiling as she answered him. Turning, she set her duffel on the table she’d been healed on, opening it to search for something. “Do you have a plan, now?”

“Plan? My plan was praying that thing didn’t find us before you got up.” He scratched the back of his head. “Are you talking about going back up there?”

“We can’t kill the boss from down here,” she giggled softly. The blonde sighed, the pretty sound of laughter cut off as she found what she was looking for. An itch ran up her arm.“Hmm…”

“I mean, I’m not sure we can kill it at all. Do you have a plan for it?” John asked, slightly exasperated. “That thing nearly got us both last time, and I don’t have anything that can even the odds.”

“I may…” Ela mumbled, pulling a simple, black bag from within her duffel. Opening the new one, she drew forth a simple kite shield. The knight ran her hand along its worn, rose-painted face, swallowing uncertainly. She paused, looking at a smudged golden blob in the center.

The Gamer furrowed his brows in confusion. “Wait. You had a shield all along?”

“It… is not mine,” she said, intonation more dull and muted than before. “I did not think that we would face something that we could not handle.”

“I don’t understand,” John said, shaking his head. “If you fight better with a shield, why save it? You got hurt pretty bad without it.”

Ela turned to him with a somber smile. “This… was my sister’s shield. It is the only thing left I have that is hers. I did not want to use it.”

The Gamer balked at that. “...Oh…”

The pair sat in silence for a moment, only the sound of the storm outside disturbing them. A tingle ran down the blonde’s arm as she mulled over her own reasoning again.

She knew that that was no real excuse. Holding back had nearly gotten herself killed. Worse, it had nearly gotten her new friend killed. What would her sister have thought about that? Would Zofia have ever cared for her shield to sit on a wall when its steel was needed to protect someone?

’No,’ Ela resolved.

“I apologize for allowing my sorrow to become selfishness,” she said with conviction. “That monster was fast, but within the range that my powers can react to. I think that I can fight it.”

“Are you sure?” John asked, softly. “We can always come back another day.”

“We are here now. We can finish this,” she stated. The blonde grimaced, pulling her hand from the shield for a moment. ’I need to know that I can finish this.’

The Gamer put his chin in his hand. "… If you're certain, I have been thinking about that encounter a bit. When I hit it with my spell, it flashed the same red color as those weird bulb things.

"My first assumption is that they're shielding it," he continued, looking up at the ceiling. "There's no real way to know if that's right or not before we go back in."

Ela smiled. “See, you do have a plan.”

“I have a theory, at best,” John countered, unable to hold his own grin back. “One based on approximately thirty seconds of a fight.”

“And one I am willing to put to the test,” she countered, gingerly turning the shield over in front of her. Slowly and deliberately, the blonde slipped her hand into the recently tuned leather straps on the back, tightening them upon her forearm. Lifting her arm from the table, Ela clenched her fist, the weight of a shield offering a familiar reassurance. The simple steel armament stood in stark contrast to the sleek, mana-charged suit she wore, though it looked undeniably right held in front of her.

The Bookworm Knight turned to her companion. “Maybe I can tell you the story of this shield on the way back to the boss.”

The unending tempest whipped a whirlwind of water down the stairs as Ela ascended towards the boss room. She stepped over half-shattered and mostly melted ice walls - the remains of John’s previous escape. Her own blood dotted the steps near the top, a nasty splatter on the step she’d bounced off. Shuddering with anticipation, the blonde adjusted her grip on her axe, allowing mana to flow through her armor.

Green flickered across her body, magical strength invigorating her.

Rolling her shoulders, she paused on the penultimate step, turning to John, who was following behind her. “Give me a minute to get its attention, then run past.”

The Gamer nodded. “Be careful. We can try to reset again if we have to.”

Smiling, the blonde entered the ruined atrium. Thunderclaps resounded above, sending quakes through the stone pillars holding up the standing half of the room. Monstrous flesh thrummed with red mana along the interior walls. The remaining metal skeleton of the roof swayed in the steadily increasing winds of the unending storm.

Ela took a deep breath, looking out at the horizon, shrouded in infinite darkness. Lightning flickered amongst the clouds, illuminating her pale features in brilliant colors. A mighty crack muted the world in white, and she turned to the room in front of her, where the Living Prison stood once more. Its black steel sword was stained with her blood and John’s.

Anger welled up within the blonde knight - anger at the boss for what it had done to the girl, anger at all the monsters for what they’d done to this world, and anger at herself, for being too weak last time. She exhaled and relaxed, mentally preparing herself for battle. Raising her shield, she advanced on the boss, bristling with mana.

”My sister and I were born in an Order outpost in Poland,” Ela had started, beginning her story. “Our mother had lived her whole life there. Those times were simple, but happy.”

Sixteen Years Ago

Two small children with matching blonde hair ran around an open training field, swinging sticks around as if they were swords. The older had straight hair, and was just in front, always just faster than her sister. The younger was consumed with giggles, running as quickly as she could, her twin pigtails swaying in the wind behind her. At the edge of the yard, an older woman smiled as she watched them, the faintest wrinkles beginning to show her age.

Mana rippled down Ela’s arms as she lowered herself into a combat stance with her shield coming to rest high, just on the left side of her head, and her axe low. She stood only a few feet away from the boss, who had yet to move. Its blade was raised and its shield poised defensively. Even with the growing hurricane all around, the monster’s poise was immaculate.

’My turn to go first, eh?’

As the blonde prepared to attack, the fleshy abomination struck. Her eyes flashing green, Ela brought her shield down, catching the black sword upon its face and pushing back, rolling with the momentum of the strike to spin around to the creature’s side. The Living Prison mirrored her pivot, bringing its own shield around in time to meet her axe, the bone blade clattering off the copper-bound steel harmlessly.

Ela returned to a neutral position, allowing her muscle memory to take over momentarily. Again, the boss was upon her, its spindly, bone-thin legs deceptively agile. It tried to swing at her weapon hand this time, away from her defensive equipment. Ready for such a tactic, the blonde punched across herself with her shield arm, the top of the kite rebounding from the blade.

The monster continued with a flurry of blows, leveraging its shield arm along the length of its blade to increase its power. The Bookworm Knight met each in kind, her eyes a constant green fire as she foresaw each attack. The clatter of steel on steel rang out, cutting through the storm’s rumble above.

A parry. Then she dodged to the left, ceding ground. A block. An attempted counter deflected off the creature’s own shield. Ela smiled. Slowly, she drew the boss to the side with feints and backsteps, away from the staircase, allowing John to slip into the arena and sprint off towards the first of the bony stalks.

”Everything fell apart when I was still a child,” she continued as they traveled the hospital’s long-abandoned halls. “A group of rogue mages triggered a demon outbreak near the base I grew up on.”

Fourteen Years Ago

Seven year-old Ela was very confused. All the friendly knights looked angry this morning. There was shouting and scary noises in the distance. With one hand, she clung to her sister’s jacket; with the other, she clutched a book against her chest. She’d just gotten her first big girl chapter book that week, and she’d been waiting all day to read it. Now, suddenly, she was being told to go somewhere.

From among the slowly organizing lines of order knights, a female form ran out towards the pair of children. Ela looked up as her mother approached, her Order-standard armor gleaming in the afternoon light. The older woman hid sadness and worry behind a soft exterior, gently embracing her children. Letting go, she placed a hand upon each of their heads, ruffling their hair as she patted them.

“You two are going to go on a short trip, OK?” she said, struggling to keep her voice upbeat. “I will join you in a couple of days, and then you can tell me all about how far you made it in that book.”

”They sent us off with the other non-combat personnel as they prepared to meet the demons in battle. We never did get to go home, nor did I ever see my mother again.”

The Living Prison pressed forward, a half-dozen thrusts sent towards the vital points of the blonde in front of it, but none hit. Its technique was plain but refined, in contrast to its horrific form. Ela had dialed in the boss’ speed now, and gotten into a rhythm around it. As she parried the steel tip of its sword, she threw a feint at the monster’s right, spinning around and dragging her axe across the floor, its blade cutting through the old tile and up into the creature.

Just before it made contact, it flashed off a shield of red. The knight recoiled, surprised at the amount of **** thrown back at her on impact. Momentarily rattled, the flesh creature tried to press an advantage, its wriggling musculature tightening as it sent a haymaker at its human opponent. Ela braced her shield arm with her axe, sending mana into her legs to absorb the shock.

A mighty gong reverberated through the atrium, drawing John’s attention from where he’d been focusing on a bone stalk. The Bookworm Knight was shoved back by the mighty swing, but stood strong. Smiling from behind her shield, she sprung forward to counterattack. Assured that his companion was holding her own, The Gamer severed the first stalk with a [Lesser Earth Spike].

Across the room, the boss seemed to freeze for a moment, leaving itself open for a strike from Ela, who wasted little time. With all her strength, she brought her axe down upon the monster’s shoulder, hoping to sever its sword arm. She was met with disappointment as the immovable red shield flared to life again, sending painful shocks down her arm as she stumbled backwards.

The Living Prison’s flesh rumbled, twisting beneath rotting skin. It began to sizzle and steam, red mana emanating from between sinews of muscle. With renewed strength and speed, it blitzed the blonde knight, who barely returned to her defensive stance in time to deflect its onslaught. It grew faster and faster as it bore down upon her, blow after blow rattling against her magic shield.

"The Order took care of us from there,” the blonde had explained. “We were moved to a boarding school in Britain, under the protection of the Shield Branch. That was where we would grow up, and where we met Knight-Captain Gallacher."

Six Years Ago

A now teenaged Ela looked on with pride from the side of a large conference hall. Rows of freshly-promoted knights stood at attention in the middle of the room, her sister among them. At the head of the room stood the Warden-Lord, his blazing red hair unmistakable, even though she'd never seen him in person before.

As he gave a rousing speech to the rest of the room, the Pole's eyes wandered behind him to where his daughter stood - the girl who would one day soon be Warden. Idly, she wondered if she might have been friends with the young Brighton if they'd ever had a chance to meet.

Once the ceremony and traditions were complete, Ela excitedly ran to find her sister and present her with a gift. She looked up at her sister in gleaming armor and held out something she'd worked on for weeks. Zofia Grzmot opened a plain, kite-shaped bag to find a decorated shield within.

"The children at the school had helped me paint it - children like us, orphans of the Order."

Ela backstepped away from another swipe, breathing heavily. Adrenaline surged within her. It had been too long since she'd felt like this, fighting with the familiar counterbalance of a shield on her arm. The storm crackled all around, rain mixing with the sweat running down her face.

Thunder crashed, a mighty boom from above as The Gamer severed the second stalk across the room. Again, the Living Prison froze. A ripple seemed to run through it. The snapping of bone and twisting of steel echoed around the atrium as its whole body seemed to condense, squeezing the corpse trapped within.

It whirled, its blonde opponent forgotten as it zeroed in on John.

"NOPE!" The Bookworm Knight shouted, hooking her axe on the lip of the boss' shield to try and pull it back. Eyes aglow, Ela ducked and rolled underneath a retaliatory shield strike, coming to stand between the monster and her companion. "We are not finished."

Abandoning its previous balanced technique, the boss charged with savage ferocity, radiating desire for ****.

”Years went by. We trained. We grew. In time, we both found ourselves stationed at a naval base in Scotland,” she had continued. “Scapa Flow. That was my final station with the Order of the Golden Rose.”

Two Years Ago

The distant cry of sirens awoke Ela from her sleep. She rolled out of her bunk, adrenaline forcing the drowsiness out of her mind as she recognized the sound of Scapa Flow’s alarms. The rest of the knights around her scrambled to their feet, rushing to don their armor. Ela was first out of the room, axe in one hand, a plain steel shield on her other.

She sprinted down the hall to her station, a half-dozen knights close behind. The clatter of boots and steel rattled through the barracks. Distant booms of battleship guns and shore turrets shook the world, drowning even the screeching sirens. The group emerged from the building to find the barrier in chaos, the fleet in the harbor ablaze. Distant screams cut through the night.

The waterline all around receded as titanic beasts crawled forth from the depths, bearing down on the knights of the Order. They were huge, blood red, scaled monstrosities. Distantly behind them, a single serpentine neck stretched from ocean to cloud. The entire barrier trembled at a singular roar, so loud and deep it was felt more than heard.

”A surprise attack, in the dead of night. A preemptive strike.”

Ela huffed, heart pounding in her ears. Another bone-rattling blow crashed into her shield as the third bulb erupted in holy fire, The Gamer’s task nearly complete. The impact shot up her arm into her chest. She exhaled, decompressing as she absorbed the shock. The boss now was relentless, its attacks unending as it desperately tried to get past her. The blonde jumped backwards away from a deadly strike downward, the monster’s blade cracking the ground on impact.

Pain was beginning to crawl into her limbs again. Her headache had returned. Her mana was desperately low. The Bookworm Knight refused to yield.

John severed the final stalk. The Living Prison shuddered again, red sparking along its squirming flesh. It cast aside its shield, mashing both of its meaty hands around its black steel sword. Its wiggling sinews wove together around the handle, swarming over the crossguard and fusing together. The blade erupted in a flash of blazing scarlet.

In a split second, it was upon Ela, its sudden speed startling. With all its might, it swung to kill. A chill ran up the knight’s arm. Horrors past flashed in front of her eyes. Green flared once more through her entire body, waves of verdant mana rising to repel the crimson red of the boss’ ****.

”You asked earlier why I did not arrive at Ashcroft until the middle of the year, yes?”

Two Years Ago

Ela’s arm gave out, the bones snapping under the **** of the impact. Then her ribs shattered, her chest caving inward, the bone-armor plate cracking. Her shield sheared apart, folded like tinfoil over the bludgeon that threw her across the field. The blonde knight knew only pain and red and darkness. She rolled to a stop in a patch of grass, wet with blood and morning dew.

Unable to move, she lay there dying, listening to the sounds of her comrades falling around her. With the last of her fading strength, she tried to stabilize herself with healing magic, but her mind was too rattled, too exhausted, too weak. She could barely muster enough of a spark to hold herself on the brink. Eons seemed to pass as her fellow knights perished on all sides.

Her sister’s voice cut through everything, “Ela! Lady’s mercy…”

The blonde **** her eyes open. Her vision was blurry and unfocused, but Zofia’s visage was reassuring nonetheless. The older sister was limping, her side bloodied badly; her gifted shield had been dented and scarred. She kneeled next to Ela, her arm humming green as she tended to the younger knight’s broken body.

“I will get you out of here. I promise.”

"That was the last thing I ever heard from my sister."

The flesh abomination’s final strike slammed into the Bookworm Knight’s shield with all its weight, its own muscles tearing themselves apart at the exertion. The Living Prison flickered with dark red energy, mana pouring outward from its torn sinews. The sheer **** of the blow lifted Ela off the ground, her shield arm’s vibrant green glow piercing the storm’s darkness. Twisting in the air, the blonde shakily landed on her feet, collapsing to her knees as she tried to get back to her stance. Her muscles seized up, the last of her strength expended.

The boss was the worse off of the two.

Crimson mana burned away as the monster unraveled at the seams. Its blade clattered to the floor. Cracks ran through its ribs, the bones disintegrating. The girl’s body fell from its clutches, sliding from its melting flesh and flopping to the storm-soaked ground. With the last of its fading strength, it moved as if to try and seize her again. Its efforts were in vain.

A [Lesser Air Burst] flew in from afar, golden radiance banishing the darkness all around. Holy fire tore undead flesh apart, ending the creature’s putrid existence.

The Bookworm Knight struggled to her feet, as soothing radiance engulfed her again. She clutched her shield to her chest and she looked to the sky, allowing the cool water to run over her. Victory.

"At some point during the night, the barrier collapsed. The Order found me **** on the shoreline the next day, holding my sister’s shield. Nearly a thousand knights were stationed at Scapa Flow, and I was the only survivor… Sometimes, I still wonder why it was me…”

She paused at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes a thousand yards away again.

“Even with magical healing, I spent months in a coma and nearly a year recovering after that,” Ela said, concluding her story. “I moved to America shortly after completing therapy. You know most of the rest.”