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"Sudden Departure" (Rockaxe, Matilda Knights' Fortress) "You sent for me, Lord Gordo?" The youthful voice of a white knight echoed vibrantly through the throne room of the Matilda fortress, its lightly-armored owner settling onto one knee as he saluted his lord by bowing his tawny head and placing his gloved fist to his heart. Gordo critically regarded the young man with his unscarred eye, his expression as pleasant as a tavern drunkard who had been denied another round as he let his heavy bulk shift forward slightly within his plush "throne". "Yes," he rumbled almost flatly, his voice seemingly devoid of human emotion. "I have a small task for you to perform." "What would you have me do, Mi'lord?" the knight replied, all seriousness. Gordo's face twitched slightly, the jagged scar that raced down the left side of his face suddenly burning alongside his sudden irritation. "...Go to Miklotov and inform him to report to me," he said, a seemingly terrible taste filling his mouth as the name of the blue knight commander passed from his tightened lips. "I have...important matters to discuss with him, privately." The white knight kneeling at the bottom of the small, red-carpeted flight of steps swiftly clambered to his booted feet and snapped a prompt salute, his movements seeming to epitomize the strived ideal of every Matildain knight. "I shall do so without delay, Mi'lord!" he responded in muted enthusiasm, swinging around on his heels as he proceeded out of the high-roofed chamber at a brisk pace. Gordo watched the white-garbed youth depart, his expression tightening a few of his wrinkles smooth upon his old, scar-lined face as his armored fist clenched a small parchment, undoubtedly some sort of letter. Nerus, you overzealous fool, the aged knight snarled within his mind, sending his irate thoughts to the winds as he slumped further into the cushions of his massive chair. I sent you a small group of my white knights to aid you in your venture...but your over-flamboyant actions bringing too much incriminating attention. And seeming that those knights haven't reported back to me...you obviously ARE a dangerous man...too dangerous for my own intentions if my knights are discovered amongst your ranks... A disgusted snort passed from Gordo's lungs as he held the letter within his hand over the flickering flames of a nearby lamp. You've lost your use, came his thoughts as he silently watched the yellowed parchment crumple inwards into ashes, the tongues of flame caressing its brittle corners. And when a resource is no longer useful, it becomes an obstacle...and obstacles...are meant to be destroyed. [Rockaxe, within the city] The nagging sense of guilt that had followed her since slamming the tavern door in Miklotov's face hadn't let up. Alex thought she would end up choking if she didn't do something about the nagging sensation that was clawing desperately in her chest. Even as she sat slumped upon an iron bench overlooking the manor-like city of Rockaxe, encased within cold, unforgiving stone walls, she couldn't help but frown at herself. Why did I go and yell at Miklotov like that...? she questioned herself, nose wrinkling upwards slightly in self-disgust. He didn't mean you any ill-feeling. He's just worried about you, like he's always been since the both of you were kids! So why...why'd you snap at him like that...? It's obvious you hurt his feelings, even though he won't openly admit it, he being a knight and all... A sharp, unlady-like curse spilled from Alex's lips. She and Miklotov, as Camus would often remark, were very much alike...and the incident earlier had proved that statement to be painfully true. Her temper was just as fiery as her childhood friend's, if not less controlled. She glanced down at her right hand, the Barrier Rune that was embedded upon it hidden beneath the length of blood-stained white cloth that was wrapped around it as a makeshift bandage. He had been so gentle in handling the wound that Gordo had given her earlier that morning, his voice so soft when they spoke, even when they began to argue... More guilt flooded Alexandra's body, causing her face to clench up. She let her head swivel back and rest upon the delicately-curved back of the bench she had seated herself upon, her russet-toned eyes staring up at the patchwork of feathery and puffy clouds that seemed to saturate the ocean hanging over the city. She pursed her lips. You should go find him and apologize. He was only being honest like he always is...and he's always looking out for you like that... He'll forgive you. He always does...just like you always forgive him. Alex grunted softly as she pushed herself out from the bench, her gaze swinging back out to the city lying below the ledge she stood beside. For all she knew, Miklotov was still at the tavern where she left him so hastily. Breaking into a run, the young woman sped back to where she initially came, intent on making rights from her wrongs. [Rockaxe, Silver Aspen Tavern] "Stupid, so STUPID..." Miklotov berated himself repeatedly, his now-gloved left hand, elbow flat against the table he sat by, clutching his suddenly-throbbing forehead as if pained. You just HAD to mouth off like that, he cursed again, his teeth subconsciously clenching tight in a row of white. Even though he had meant well, it was more than obvious that he certainly DIDN'T have Camus' gift with words; his own rather hastily-constructed argument fell apart as soon as it had fled from his lips...and in the end, he had inadvertedly insulted one of his closest friends. Maybe she's still worked up about that argument with Lord Gordo earlier, his thoughts echoed firmly, trying to create order from the chaos that attempted to befuddle him. She normally doesn't get set off that easily. You've still got a chance to make amends... The dull thunking of the tavern door suddenly easing shut caused Miklotov's head to jerk up in surprise, his previous thoughts scattering in various directions as he fumbled further back into his chair. For a fleeting moment, his heart jumped clear into his stringent throat when he thought Alex had suddenly come back...but those thoughts were crushed underfoot when he spotted the tall figure of a young white knight standing in attention by the tavern's entrance. Looks like you won't be making an apology anytime soon... The white-enshrouded knight quickly snapped into attention as he quickly saluted the blue commander, his face, seemingly only around twenty-one summers--recently knighted--revealing that he was present strictly there on business. "Sir Miklotov, I'm here on orders from Lord Gordo," he stated. "He wishes for you to report to him immediately." Miklotov's smooth faced wrinkled faintly, perplexed. Why so soon? It hadn't even been an hour since Lord Gordo had been poising his blade against his vulnerable jugular, threatening him with public humiliation if he didn't pull back from his defending of Alexandra. A sudden sliver of dread slithered down his spine. He sincerely hoped that Gordo wasn't planning on anything drastic... "...Tell him that I'll be there as soon as I can," he finally mumbled. The white knight snapped yet another swift salute as he began to back out of the tavern's now-opened doorway. "I'll go on ahead and offer Lord Gordo word that you're coming, sir," he said. Within moments, he had fully retreated from the pub, leaving the knight of blue alone once again. Miklotov muttered a faint curse under his breath, his left hand grasping the edge of the table to keep himself steady. Worrying wasn't going to do him any good, he reminded himself. If Gordo's summons DID have anything to do with Alexandra's earlier outburst...he'd know what to do then. Quickly straightening out his uniform's armored collar, he too departed from the tavern and into the city streets, leaving the pub behind in its depressing, weary solitude. "Miklotov...? I just wanted to..." Miklotov wasn't there. The tavern was barren of life. "...apologize. ... ...Dammit..." Alex huffed a deep sigh, her head and heart both sinking faintly as though weights were strung around her neck. She slumped heavily against the stony tavern walls, their morning chill creeping up and down through her shirt and across the skin of her back. She had waited too long; Miklotov was gone, headed off elsewhere within Rockaxe...and if she knew him well enough, he was probably heading back to the castle to get his mind off their earlier ordeal. You should follow after and apologize...the sooner, the better, before you regret it even further later on... Spinning around on her booted heels, Alex knocked the hapless tavern door open once again as she picked up to a brisk run, forgetting about the sudden fatigue that had plagued her on her earlier mad dash. All she cared about was catching up to Miklotov. [Rockaxe, Matilda Knights' Fortress] Miklotov felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably as soon as he paced into the throne room, his Lord Gordo's gaze seeming to bore through him as soon as he set a booted foot past the vast chamber's heavy doors. He refused to look into the old man's eyes...and he knew that doing so was nothing more than an act of submission. He didn't care...he didn't have to see Gordo's face or his grayed eyes to know of the arrogant expression that was plastered upon his weathered, aged face. He felt his chest burning at the thought; Lord Gordo hadn't just insulted the basic pride of the knights, but he had also insulted the pride of a lady of Matilda... "...I've come as you've ordered, Lord Gordo," the blue knight announced with a faint tone of defiance as he kneeled before the steps to the throne that his hefty lord was wedged within. This time, he finally looked up within the other's eyes, making sure to make his expression as flat and featureless as a barren expanse. Gordo eyed Miklotov with an equally bland expression, his mouth drawn into one of his characteristic, ear-to-ear grimaces. His gray eyes, however, were ones of a man submerged within deep thought. Perhaps "plotting" was a better word, concerning the old knight... "Let's just get down to business," he rumbled, his eyes flashing with slight satisfaction when Miklotov's face suddenly creased with a tightened grimace. "I can tell neither of us wants to have to stretch this out any further. I have a mission for you." Miklotov screamed mentally, his face locking up to prevent the howl from escaping his tightening lungs. He should've seen that coming; he crossed Gordo in the morning and this was his Lord's way of retaliation...and in that way, Alex would be unable to bring up any more of her issues because neither he or Camus would be around as a safeguard. Alex would be forced to stay silent without the aid of her friends as not even her uncle, the former commander of the Red Matilda Knights, would be able to help her... "...What do you have in mind, Mi'lord...?" Gordo leaned forward slightly, the throne creaking beneath his ponderous weight. "A group of white knights from my company left to the town of Araya, near the border of Muse," he began, stating his words slowly as if the blue knight under his command needed time to absorb them. "I've received recent reports that those knights have gone maverick...I need you to confirm them and if true, bring justice to the defectors." Miklotov glanced up fully, obviously startled at the orders given to him. "Defectors?" he questioned, almost more to himself. Lord Gordo was sending him on a retrieval mission...? Something about that notion didn't come off as natural to him... "Strange rumors of unusual occurrences have been coming from the town," Gordo continued blandly, seemingly wishing to get the current ordeal over-with. "Townsfolk have been mentioning the knights sent have been disappearing at night and strange lights coming from the nearby woods." He leaned forward slightly once again, the chair groaning loudly in protest, as if it were about to snap at any moment. "What do you think of this...?" "I can't make a proper judgement until I investigate personally, Mi'lord," Miklotov said promptly, his face becoming smooth once again. Pausing briefly, he glanced directly into his lord's steely eyes. "I'll depart immediately to see to this. Gordo seemed pleased with Miklotov's response. "Good. I expect results from this mission. You are dismissed." Miklotov bowed his head slightly before rising to his feet, his black and white trimmed blue coat flowing into their accustomed order around his tall frame. I don't like this, not one bit, he mused as he departed the chambers, out of Gordo's attendance. Still, I can't deny his orders...I'm bound by the Knight's Code, so I must commit...even if I don't like the idea... The heavy clunk of shutting doors heralded the departure of the blue knight, leaving Lord Gordo to his brooding thoughts. "Araya, huh...?" Alexandra pressed herself flat against the throne room's wall as she mumbled to herself, her sharp ears taking in all the sounds and voices emitting from the adjoining room. It wasn't too hard to catch what was being said; Gordo's rotund voice was loud enough to wake even the dead and Miklotov was apparently doing nothing to lower his own voice. She absorbed everything that was said, not failing to scrutinize even the smallest details that were relayed between lord and knight. A frown quickly marred her tanned features; it was obvious that Gordo was sending Miklotov out as a way to curb her own radical actions, and since Camus was also gone... Ingenious ol' lout...that bastard's playing his cards perfectly... Alex grinned wryly. To think she came just to make amends with Miklotov...now she found that her childhood friend was getting shipped off on some sort of bizarre mission concerning a bunch of supposedly wayward white knights and unusual lights and sounds coming from the roadside village they had been sent to. Well, I guess I'll give that stiff old goat a real shocker. I just wonder how Mik'll handle it... Slipping silently away from the cold stone wall, Alex dashed soundlessly down the hallway, pushing away the fatigue that had been taunting her since her little marathon through Rockaxe. Miklotov would need a little bit of time to gather equipment and provisions for the journey; that would be enough time for her to prepare herself as well. She was gonna make Gordo jump out of his thick skin THIS time, and how she would enjoy such a sight... [Rockaxe, city gates] "Miklotov! Wait a moment!" Miklotov felt himself tighten up in his saddle in utter surprise; behind him, he could hear Alexandra's voice coming nearer, begging him to halt. Drawing his gray-toned steed to a halt, he looked back with widened eyes, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of Alex's lithe frame running up to him, panting and out of breath. "Alex, what's wrong?" he said, quickly feeling thankful that his friend had caught him before he had left. Perhaps now he could apologize for his earlier actions... Alex skidded to a halt, clasping her knees as she drew in huge, gaping gulps of air into her battered lungs. "T-Thank the Gods I caught you before you left," she stammered, finally looking up at Miklotov with a relieved expression. "I thought I'd be too late to catch you before you left for Araya..." Huh...? How'd she know I was going south-east? ...Nevermind that, you should apologize before you go. You'll never get a moment's rest if you don't... "Listen, Alex...I'm sorry about what I said earlier today..." A befuddled look suddenly grasped Alex's face as she gave Miklotov a confused glance, but she then threw the mask off and smiled broadly, looking much like her old self. The expression brought a wave of relief to the knight's heart. "Don't worry yourself over that," she replied, giving the other a coy wink. "Besides, we'll have more than enough time to apologize to each other on the way to Araya." Miklotov felt a sudden wave of panic churn through his gut, threatening to burst his innards on the spot. "Alex, don't even THINK about it," he said sternly, trying to remain as serious as humanly possible. Even so, he failed to hide the worry from his face, his features becoming as easy to read as an open book with large print. "It's too dangerous! I don't care how you caught wind of where I was headed, but this isn't a game! If those knights HAVE gone astray, I can't guarantee that I can protect you from them--" "Oh, don't you worry about me," Alex interrupted, patting the scabbard that was belted to her side, Sheathed within its hard, lacquered shell was a thin-bladed sword, its black, leather-wrapped hilt and swan-etched silver pommel glinting in the dull late morning sunlight. "I can defend myself with Lohengrin if need be." She shot the azure-clad knight a wry grin. "After all, you DID train me, didn't you, during the knight to avoid scrutiny from your fellows?" Her father's sword...I almost forgot it was passed down to her, even though you've seen her with it countless times... Miklotov grimaced tightly and heaved a weary sigh. There was no way she was going to convince Alex to otherwise abandon her notion; when her mind was set, not even threats of death could force her to change them. He shifted forward in his seat, removing his booted foot from the left stirrup as he patted the back of the leather saddle. "Get on, then," he mumbled in a defeated sort of way, "before I change my mind and regret it." Alex quickly took up Miklotov's offer as she hoisted herself onto the back of the saddle, seating herself in a man's fashion as she clasped the knight's shoulders to steady herself. "Come now," she laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "You know you'd be lonely without me. Besides, I'd be damned if I didn't say I was sorry for slamming the door on you earlier today..." Miklotov felt his mood lift, a faint smile creasing his face as he glanced back at Alex. "You know I'd always forgive you," he said. "We've known each other too long to ever be upset for long." He turned back around, his expression only deepening as he gently nudged the ribs of his horse, easing it into a gentle trot. "I could use the company, anyway." The steady sounds of horseshoes upon stone road echoed through the Rockaxe city gates before gently fading out. The pair didn't bother to look back at the city as they departed, their sights set only towards the southeast.
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