Story:Kings of Strife/Int 1

Intermission One
The armored one stood behind the leader, as always.

There were more than one of them in armor, but the one being referred to had a quality that was distinctly prominent and more noticeable than the others. First of all the armor was huge and beautiful, bulging with ornate decorations and various scars. It was steel gray with alternate red and green accents, and a large crimson cape billowed from the oversized shoulder pieces of the set. The decidedly drab accents of its wardrobe betrayed the fine quality of its forging and the specific way it caught the light. Such striking ingenuitity of its design cannot completely be painted with adequate words, but its appearance was such that it caught the eye of any idle glance. Somewhere within its mismatched colors and angular, heavy construction juxtaposed a sheer breathtakingly skill. Naturally the owner of the armor wore a helmet with slick black eye-holes and two tall, demonic esque horns, an addition to the ensemble that demanded its own form of artisan respect and intimidating language, but in this dark and humid place it was not necessary. Every other person in attendance knew who they were, anyway.

The leader, whom the armored one stood behind, practically let off an air of superiority without an actual imposing presence. His very atmosphere was somehow intoxicating, the kind of feeling that one nervously ponders when they leave his eyesight. He was always under numerous heavy cloaks that might have had a mystical quality about them, an alchemical air of antagonizing physics, that alternated from being black and purple, almost shifting on an invisible background feed. The only things visible from his reality-defying attire were two gnarled, impossibly wrinkled, and very light gray fingers that constantly tapped around the arm-rests of the pitch black throne he sat on, moving without pause or falter. Occasionally, two glaring orange irises were visible from the dark shadow of his hood, but not often.

This was one of those times in which his eyes were visible, reigning and surveying as he looked around the wide, dark room he sat and looked over. The other five were in attendance, he noted. One was missing, as he expected. All was according to plan, and thus it was time to begin. The man made an extremely subtle movement with his hand and the armored one behind him immediately bent to a knee, the armor they wore slamming to the ground to silence an already deathly quiet chamber. Their cape slithered over the floor. With this, the leader stood up, all of the fabric around his short frame moving and dancing as he rose to his diminuitive full form. He looked over the darkness as if he could see straight to its core, and then he spoke.

"Let us begin our reports, my Knights." He stood motionless as he spoke, as he usually did, but anyone looking at him would swear he was moving still, constantly moving. Searching, looking, surveying, deciding. His voice was soft yet booming, impossibly slow and questioning yet amazingly confident and unshakable. With such a simple phrase he set in motion a tradition as the other Five in attendance began to speak. Most of them had nothing special to say, as always. That was alright with the leader - after all these years, nothing was something. It meant the plans, his plans, were still moving, always going. There always had to be monotony for there to be revolution. The smaller pebbles must be blown away gently before the boulder can roll down the hill.

The Knight in the coral blue and slate uniform stopped talking and looked to his leader in approval. This Knight was tall, around six foot, much taller than the leader. He stood out from the darkness in sheer principle, his flaming red hair cascading across his face. It tailed back behind him in a sort of natural ponytail, but the rest of his uniform was the same monotone slate/coral blue. His hands were in the pockets of his pants, but he stood with a respectful stature as he faced his shadowy leader. His forehead twitched in expectation, and the leader's hood seemed to nod. The movement was subtle enough, and the Knight stepped back to the line of his fellow Knights. His turn was over, and he breathed a sigh of relief and removed a cigarette from his pocket, letting it sit in his lips without lighting it. Not just yet, he allowed.

Next was the Black Knight, the final Knight. He stepped forward with a resound, his pitch black boots resonating off the hard floor cloaked in darkness. If the room was dark, this Knight grabbed the very darkness and flung it around him like a cape. All of his armor, much slimmer than the Knight that stood guard over the leader, was dark and medium-heavy. It clung to him like an inky shadow, outlining his body while allowing maximum protection. The only shock was his face, as he had also left behind his helmet. Bright blond, short cropped hair graced his head and a long goatee tickled his collar. He stood as the previous Knight did, watching for his master's approval. Unlike his predecessor, this one's face was tightly in a mask of respect and fear. Or perhaps it wasn't a mask.

The leader gave another subtle, barely noticeable nod, and spoke once again. "Speak, my child."

The Black Knight looked down and then back up to the Leader. "As you wish it, my Leader." He looked up with the same expression, showing almost a glimmer of pride. It was hard to distinguish with his grizzled features. "It is my duty to finish the reports, and I take it with honor." He banged his chestplate with an armored fist before lowering his arm again. The ritual over, he now spoke with a less booming voice. The Knight in the uniform chuckled lightly; that part always amused him. "Most has already been spoken by those before me. I'm sure you'll notice the Fifth is not with us - that Knight's mission is well underway." The leader nodded subtly once again, as if his muscles couldn't support a full-sized nod. The armored Knight behind him walked to his side leisurely, somehow not making any noise on the hard floor.

"The Fire has been taken, as you prophesize, but that is the Fifth's domain. Finally..." the Black Knight hesitated, as if he had to force out the next words. "the Wind is still at larg-"

"Enough!"

The words of the other armored one resounded through the expansive room, eclipsing the quiet nature of the leader. The knight stepped in front of the leader, bright orange, rage-filled eyes looking into the sapphire orbs of the Black Knight. The armored one spoke yet again, their voice disarming the others simultaneously. "Your report is finished, First. You may return to your successive missions." Nobody in the room moved. Now the armored one looked over the comrades at large, creamy orange eyes glancing into the souls of everyone at attendance. "All of you." The puppetmaster twitched his strings, and the Knights turned and left in stark silence. Their duties were apparently concluded.

Except for the Black Knight, who stood in his spot, rebelliously staring back at the Knight in the armor. He had no cape of his own, but he stood just as majestically and proud as he openly defied his orders. He spoke right back at them. "L9, my report was indeed not concluded. I don't remember you speaking on behalf of the leader, so if you please, allow me to continue me' damned re-"

"I do not please, sir N2. You know firsthand that mine is the voice of our Lord." The armored knight interrupted the Black once again, their chin tilting upwards slightly, to hold up their immense pride. A sleight against the Black, as he interpreted the action. His fingers clenched in self-preservation. He had to watch his step here.

"Well then, my precious L9, your ears should be the ears of the leader, should they not? I was saying, the Wind Crystal is still at large and has not yet been apprehended." The armored Knight's fists also clenched tightly, and they began to stride down the large steps that separated them from the Black Knight. The Black's blue eyes simply followed the Knight as they strode towards him, fist cocked back. He made no effort to dodge or block.

"My Lance. If you will." The leader's soft, gravely voice halted the armored Knight in their tracks almost inhumanely. A fist in black glove padding was hovering mere inches from the Black's nose. He snorted and closed his eyes in smug victory. Yet again the leader spoke, and now both of them turned to see him return to his black throne. "I feel no sensitivity, only... fear." Now both Knights looked at him with surprise, unimaginable surprise. And, before they knew it... fear. For anything that the leader feared was indeed something to fear. The leader sensed this and his hood shook slightly as laughter emerged. "No, do not fear yourselves, my children, for I fear nothing alive or dead. No, I fear the waves of destiny are reaching high tide. I fear the fact that my Scales cannot retrieve the Wind, that something is not going according to my prophecies. I fear that things are starting to escalate...and may soon reach a disastrous end."

The leader looked up, and finally his blazing orange eyes emerged. They shone with an almost unearthly quality, proving as pseudo-lanterns in the ink shade of his hood. He took about a different air, one he usually had on, his persona of confidence, endless confidence. Gone was the world-weary leader that had spoke a moment before - returned triumphantly was the ruler who presided over their society with a titanium fist and magical cloaks. "It is up to us, my Second and my Ninth, to cradle this world and take it to its next form. This era is ending, fast, and we are going to bring about the next in a boisterous fashion. I need you Knights, and it is for this purpose and this purpose I have spent all this time and created you all, every single one of you." The Black Knight looked to his right to observe his fellow Knight and was only a little surprised to see tears falling down their cheeks. He was a bit used to their dramatics by now.

Finally the leader was at the end of his speech. "L9... and N2. And all Seven Serpents. I have made a personal error in the first time in years and years, and for that I apologize greatly. I underestimated not the Wind Thief, but the powerful gravity of the Wheels of Time and Destiny. There will always be changes. For now, I do not require the Wind. We will prevail without it. N2!" The leader's hood shifted to the Black Knight, and he stood up a little straighter in preparation for his orders. "You are to aid the P7 in his first-prong. If it does not succeed, relay to the T1 that their phase follows. That is all." The Black Knight knelt.

"As you wish, my leader." And he stood and left.

Long after the Black Knight left, the Lance Knight stood watching the leader. The tears stopped flowing, but their quivering orange eyes stood locked with the leaders, continuing to shimmer. Their eyes were amazingly alike, almost identical. Almost. "My Lance...You are to retrieve the Hatred and bring it to me. It will very soon prove to be essential." The Lance Knight moved to follow the Black Knight. "Wait." They stopped in their tracks. "Stay... Stay with me a little longer, my child. Your phase isn't for a fortnight at least."

Tension briefly appeared in the armored frame before it disappeared with any other doubts. The Lance Knight turned around and started walking towards the leader, crimson cape and blonde hair flowing in the wake. There was nothing to fear when the leader was in charge. He prophesized a world's revolution, and so a revolution would occur. And the Lance Knight would bring it about.

"As you wish. All is for my Lord."

...End of First Intermission.

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