Knights Apocalyptica

Chapter 34: A Dead Land's Winds

Chapter 34: A Dead Land's Winds

"Nothing but deadlands and old-world tech. Sand creeps into your bedroll every damn trip.The rusted-out buildings and unsafe structures make scavenging a difficult and dangerous proposition, but occasionally something worthwhile is found. And with the engineers petitioning us out as much as they can get away with, I don't see anything changing in the near future.Never mind that I've lost three of my Knights to monsters in the last year and one to a collapsed building. No, it's always 'we need you to find more tech.' Get back out there. One year left until I retire to my husband's estate in the second layer and wash my hands of this. Can't wait."- Knight Commander Wynter, Personal Logs (249, 3rd Era)

Picking an elective was a harsh and brutal battle. Erec received a choice of seven. Out of which, he could only pick two. One choice was obvious: he needed to take Wasteland Survival. Garin locked that in, too, so they could have a matching elective.

That left him three others that stood out. He hunched over the table in the living area.

Unconventional Weapons, Tracking, and Monster Ecology seemed like good picks at first glance. With Unconventional weapons, he could find replacement weaponry on a long-range expedition or find out if it worked well with Fury. Tracking and Monster Ecology was also a strong pick. Knowing the different typical Rift Creatures and habits would grant an edge.

But there would be time to take advantage of that. And VAL buzzed all angry in Erec’s head until he caved and ‘reluctantly’ chose Scavenging and Armor Modification. In truth, he felt a thrill of excitement to have the chance to tear apart and improve his Armor. VAL was most keen to see how the Armor components relating to ‘anomalous energy’ functioned.

Most intoxicating, however, was the question.

How far could they go if they blended old-world ideas from VAL into modern Armor models?

It was a hard but necessary decision.

How far could the two of them go in upgrading a modern Armor model? If they learned enough, could they blend VAL’s old-world knowledge into a better Armor? Who's to say, but the image made it a challenging but necessary decision.

After seeing him sign up for it, Olivia jotted it down. She gave him a small smile.

“What general lectures did you get?” she asked.

Erec caught a slow flash of a furry tail in the corner of the room. He paused and cleared his throat.

[Munchy is loose.]

“They gave me seven total; one of them’s a special course twice a week.” Erec pulled his eyes away from the plant Munchy hid behind. How do I tell Garin? “…Er, Basic Mysticism, Basic Prayer and Theology, Physical Conditioning.” Those were all of the more mandatory basics. “…Then Military History, and…” Erec sighed deeply. “Courtly Mannerisms.” He kept his voice steady, trying to catch Garin’s eyes and flick his attention to the space Munchy was in.

Still, just the thought of Courtly Manners made him dread the class. Boldwick had said it wasn’t necessary. It seemed the Academy disagreed.

Munchy began to scramble up a vine, his growing girth pulling down on the leaves as the critter miscalculated its carrying capacity. Oh fuck.

“Ah, a pity.” Olivia shook her head; eyes firmly fixed on Erec. How long would it be until the squirrel fell or caused something to make a noise? “Besides our elective and Physical Conditioning, there’s nothing else in common. If you need a Courtly Mannerisms tutor, knock on my door.”

“No! If you need someone to teach you how the court works, come ask me!” Garin called out, even getting to his feet. Erec met his eyes and signaled toward the squirrel now trying to climb on a too-thin vine.

Garin’s jaw dropped.

“Could it be Sir Garin is suggesting he knows more about Courtly Manners than a maid from the duchy? Scandalous.”

Garin gave a quick laugh. “No, no, but I know how he learns best—what’s the last class you have?” He tried to shoot the attention back to Erec, taking small steps toward Munchy's location. If Garin could get to him, the little menace would be calm as could be—it truly cherished his company, for some reason. Garin must’ve failed to close his door properly.

“Uh, I have Divine Talent Development, too. I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Impressive, developing Talents always seemed so interesting to me. What do you think I’ll receive?” Olivia cupped her chin in her hand and leaned forward.

“Hard to say—“ Erec shrugged, finding it hard to focus on the conversation. Garin leaned in and snatched Munchy from the vine. Erec let out a tense breath.

“I’ve always been fascinated with animals,” Olivia remarked, swaying her head over to Garin. “Do you think that mine might relate to that? The priests say it stems from your soul.”

“Uh—could be animals.” Garin gave a fake grin, trying to keep Munchy stuffed behind his back.

“If it is, do you believe Sir Garin would let me borrow his squirrel for training?”

— - ? - — - ? - — - ? - —

The first day of class was like a bag filled with bolts and candy. Military History turned out to be a surprisingly insightful class. The Dame running it broke apart various military theory texts from ancient battles and the previous Era. Then they had the class suggest how to apply these concepts to the modern wasteland. It was essentially a creative strategy class and much more involved than the name suggested.

Physical Conditioning would occur every day. It was hardly even a course and more like mandatory training. A Knight barked commands at them and drilled them through push-ups, crunches, and other workouts on a daily basis. Always start with an hour-long jog. The instructor only promised to ramp up the difficulty over time.

The first session got him covered in sweat, and he needed a shower after. Colin was worse off.   He'd refused an order by the instructor. As a result, they pushed him twice as hard as everyone else.  

However, the last course of the day finally came. Erec arrived in the lecture room for Wasteland Survival with Garin at his side. The door was wide open with seven initiates waiting around inside, with no instructor in sight.

Fifteen minutes passed.

A hassled, dark-haired Knight Commander stormed into the room. Her dark brown eyes swayed over the class as she cleared her throat. “You have my sincere apology. I did forget that this is the first lesson of this class—“ She gestured towards the rest of the standard lecture room. A fair, if antiquated, room completed by a board in the back to jot down notes on and a semicircle of chairs facing it. “—we will never meet in here. From now on, please assemble in front of the building. Now please, follow me.”

Everyone got up and followed Dame Juliana into the light of the day; a few hours of sun left. But she led them straight into open land away from the academy.

They strode further and further from the campus, past the farms encircling the kingdom. She didn’t stop until they’d reached a plain, wasteland-like stretch of land not too far from the great steel walls. Out here were only dried grass, scraggly weeds and plants, and a whole lot of dust and cracked ground.

“There is not a more fitting classroom than this,” She waved a hand towards the empty plains. “On your journeys outside of these walls, this will be the most common biome you will experience. Perhaps further, it begins to change, but that is a discussion for a later time. This is the state much of our world is in, after the holy flames.”

At least this place was a lot more freeing than the stuffy classroom.

“There can be threats anywhere outside of the wall. But, you shouldn’t neglect the dangers of the wastelands themselves.” She leaned down and grabbed a fist full of dirt and sand, letting it spill into the wind through her fingers. “Hot in the sun, cold at night. Water can be rare; if you wander long enough and go thirsty enough, you might never find any.”

She pointed to one of the girls in the class, a taller girl with a brown bun.

“You have a flask filled with water, but you’re lost. And believe me, it can be surprisingly easy to get lost. You’re thirsty and not sure when you’ll next come across something to refill your flask. What do you do?”

“I conserve the water,” the girl answered confidently, giving a smile. “If I stretch it out, I’ll have a better chance to find more.”

“Then you’ll die.” Juliana shook her head. “If you’re thirsty, you drink. Thirst is deadly; it can ruin your thinking ability and lead to a death spiral. I’ve run a scouting mission to retrieve a lost Knight after a violent fight to close a rift. I found them dead two weeks later. They died of dehydration with water still in their flask.”

Everyone went quiet as the reality of what they were to learn hit. These lessons might be life or death.

“At the end of this course, I want these wastes to feel not like a second home but a comfortable hell. To that effect, today’s class has two requirements for a passing grade.” She lifted her fingers to count them off. “One. You are to make a fire; you might normally have a flint and steel—that’ll make your life easier, but all of my students will know how to make do without.” She gave them an evil grin. “Two. You’re going to spend a night out here, in the open. No soft beds. No rolls to sleep in. Your backs to the dirt with an open sky above. The Trial may have given you a taste of this life—but you’re going to live and breathe familiarity. When you go on your expedition in a month, I expect my fellow Knights to compliment me on how much you’ve learned so quickly.”

The air shifted; nobody looked pleased by the change of plans from sleeping in a soft bed. A miserable night in the open put a damper on the class.

But this was the sort of practical lesson Erec needed to learn.

Juliana led them around the wasteland, pointing out the various dried blades of grass to use as kindling and picking out plants with woody stems. Completed by a sole dead tree to take sticks from.

First, she taught them to make friction and heat through two sticks—graduating to cutting off a strip of her uniform to wrap around the stick and displaying a more reliable way to grind them.

They learned to make fire and had two hours to practice the skill before she left them in the wasteland.

The sun sank closer and closer to the horizon. Julia clapped her hands together, and bid them good luck. They weren’t allowed to return until the sun returned to the sky.

Erec broke off with Garin; each of them agreed to gather kindling, sticks, and anything that might burn.

Making a fire was harder in the dark, especially as the night's cold air started to arrive. In a couple of hours, they had a small fire. Four others blazed not too far away.

Garin leaned over, arms wrapped around his legs, staring into the blazing depths. A stick cracked and popped inside the inferno. “Is the Academy everything you hoped for?” his friend asked, transfixed by the flames.

“I’ve grown a lot, even in this short of a time,” Erec said, nodding his head. “But I have a long way to go to get where I want to be. How about you? Better than staying home and learning to manage your father’s estates?”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that later. I’ve gotten two advancements, one in Vigor. So, can’t complain. The atmosphere of the Academy is so different from the courts. It’s not like the station isn’t present—don’t get me wrong—but this place makes everyone seem like they’re on a more even field. Makes it easier to connect and to approach people you couldn’t otherwise.” Garin gave a small smile.

Erec slowly nodded. Then he decided to broach the topic he’d been mulling over for some time. “I think Olivia is a spy.”

Garin did a double take. “What, the cute former maid? Are you out of your mind?” He stopped. “You think she’s spying on Colin?”

“One Duke looking into the heir of another Duke seems like a fair enough reason to me. If he paid her by offering her the chance to be a Knight, I’m sure she’d be more than glad to go along with it. She’s friends with Lyotte too.”

“Well, that’s a bit fucked up. But we can’t really… y’know, blame her. We’re also spying on Colin for his father.”

“…I’m starting to feel bad for him. He’s alone and keeps falling short of his father, especially when compared to others from the duchies. It must be impossible to have that weight constantly dragging you down.” Erec leaned further towards the fire, lowering his head. Heat flushed his face as the guilt sat beneath the surface. Did they really need to spy on Colin?

“You feel bad because the Unbroken General is to Colin, what you see Bedwyr as to you.” Garin gave a snort. “Wow, Erec.”

There was no denying it, so their conversation lapsed into more present things. Erec tried to sleep with a jacket beneath his head.

But every hour, he’d sit up.

Eyes scanning across the wasteland and at any moment, expecting to see a pair of ruby red eyes staring back. But there was only ever darkness.