12 Miles Below

The knights and I all walked down the hill as one group, with Father and I taking the lead.

And it seemed Lionheart had the same idea, since on the other side, the man with a lion shaped shoulder pad wove between all the knights assembled in a line there, passing by with his second in command at his right hand side.

The four of us ended up a few feet from each other. The great Deathless took off his golden helmet, then strapped it to the side of his other shoulder, making him actually look like he had two different lion heads on both ends of his shoulders. Then he turned his gaze back at us.

“Clan knights.” Lionheart announced, voice deep and with an aura of command. Somehow it was perfectly fitting to how he looked - dark haired, blue eyes, a short beard of equally pitch black color, and the regal bearing of a king. “Whatever the cultists are paying you, it is not worth damnation. The imperial church stands behind me, I am willing to match the payments you’ve been hired for, and I implore you to accept. Good men and women need not die today for a cause so foul.”

I had thought about taking a deeper pitch, but I wasn’t any kind of speechsmith that could mimic other voices. I was good at math, and slowly getting better at stabbing things like a proper surface savage, so I’ll stick to those two for now, thank you.

But I could change the words I spoke from regular ol’ Keith to the clan knight stereotype. Which I assumed was the same down here as what all the other castes had in mind on the surface when they thought of ‘Relic Knight’.

“We have not come here as mercenaries.” I said, aiming to capture that ‘don’t fuck with me.’ vibe clan knights had as their default. “We have come on our own volition. Let that speak for itself.”

“You would willingly choose to protect machine cultists and turn your blades against Deathless?” Lionheart seemed more shocked at that than anything. His gaze looked up, past our lines to the Chosen and machines sulking safely on the top of the hill. Marsella waved down at the man from her seat with a cheery smile. She was starting to eat her popcorn now, waiting for the grand reveal.

“That is so.” I said cryptically.

“That woman was a blight on Capra’Nor before the machines." The man next to Lionheart hissed, his first words in the negotiation. Going to take a guess this is Drakonis. "Now she’s both a traitor to humanity and still a criminal to deal with. Why would you willingly choose to defend a dredge such as her?”

“Personal feelings hold no sway over us.” Father answered, representing the absolute perfect surface knight just by being himself. “We are knight Retainers. We took oaths. We will carry them out. There is nothing more than that. Whether she deserves our protection or not is immaterial. These people are under our protection.”

“These people?” Drakonis spat. "They’re murderers, thieves, cowards, and the scum of the earth.” He looked us up, helmet hiding the details but the glare under it was all but obvious. “I’ve always heard clan knights were emotionless mercenaries, slaves to coin. But I’ve seen some defend Capra’Nor and stand for what’s right instead of what’s profitable. I thought differently of you people for a moment. What a disappointment you are.”

"You are here because your friends and allies died." I said. "Your justice is to kill those who killed your own, is that correct?"

Drakonis nodded, then spat again on the ground. "Aye. No fanciful stories will ever cover that betrayal. No matter what you cultists friends spew, they killed innocents."

"The ones you want brought to justice. They're already dead." I said. "Almost all the Chosen knights who fought on the tower, died before the machines swarmed the walls. The ones who live have also seen all their friends killed before their eyes, and they aren't hunting you down, or demanding the blood of the surface knights who cut through them like a torch through ice. So why are you here?"

They really hadn't. All of them just wanted to live and survive. Kidra walking around freely even after her and her honor guard had been the number one reason most of them had died on the Tower, they still didn't hate her. They understood. I don't know if it was for the right reasons, or not, but they hadn't ever made any call for justice. They wanted the war to end, not start it again.

But not Drakonis. "It's not enough." He eventually growled out. "It will never be enough until every last one of these traitors are purged from the world. You wouldn't understand. Capra'Nor was my home, and they burned it down."

"You hunt slaves among dead slavers." Father added. "You go too far."

Lionheart tilted his head slightly. "There are no slaves, or slavers here. Only cultists."

"He's making an analogy." I put in, knowing exactly where Father was going with that. "If a slaver knight murdered my friend, I will hunt and kill that slaver." I had before, and I'd lived up to that promise. So I wasn't just talking the talk here. "But I will not hunt down the slaves who built his gun, who fed him his bullets, or were forced to clean and shine his armor. Do you understand now?"

The Chosen did what they had to, to survive. Even if the Chosen knights hadn't died in the tower fight, they deserve far less of a punishment than outright death. Atonement, not death. And Wrath's actions had been the lightest possible roll of the dice. Any other machine commander wouldn't have just seen a few Undercity knights dead, they'd all be dead.

Of course, that nuance went unseen by the grieving.

"Shows how savages think." Drakonis hissed, then pointed again at the mass of people and machines behind us. "They're not slaves. They made this choice, it's in their fucking names. The machines attacked, and they helped. I don't care if it was willing or unwilling, they're enemies of humanity."

"You will never have enough." Father said. "Your demand for blood has already been paid. Walk away."

"Machines will never see humanity thrive." Lionheart said. "I see the tenets that you believe in, clan knights. But I will not stand while the enemy remains unharmed and free to spread their twisted faith outwards. It is not about who is innocent or not, it is about humanity as a whole. That is my mission."

“You know nothing.” I said, keeping things cryptic. “We are here on a mission of far greater importance than any, or ourselves.”

Lionheart raised an eyebrow at that. Then gave a sigh and shook his head, as if realizing he wasn't going to shake us with words the same way we couldn't shake him with ours. “It fills me with great sadness to see ones such as you so twisted down this path, believing their story and lies. Regardless of right or wrong, they are traitors to humanity. Cultists. And a danger to anyone else in the future so long as they are not handled. In the spirit of respect I have for the few surface knights I’ve fought besides, I will give you one more warning. Turn back. Leave this place, return to your clan and your people. You embark on a fool’s venture and those you protect will be left defenseless. Your mission is in vain. You will find nothing but death and ruin here.”

“Our mission is sacred and beyond question, I said this already.” I answered back. “Death will not stop us.”

Father’s head turned slightly to look down at me, as if asking ‘Was that necessary?’

Winterscar. I all but answered him back with a slight shoulder shrug. Let me have some fun. It fits with the narrative too.

The older Deathless raised an eyebrow at that, likely not noticing the hidden byplay between Father and I. “Is that so?” He asked, the question rhetorical.

I answered it anyhow. "It is so."

His eyes roved up again to our camp, and then back down across the line of surface knights blocking his path forward. “What mission drives you this far?”

“We cannot say.” I said. “We do not know you, stranger, or who you consort with. Speaking of our task may compromise our mission.”

Telling him we’re searching for Wrath or here to escort her down, or any of the other reasons we were debating might blow up in our faces. So it was better to just be completely vague until we had it all ironed out, as we voted on.

Drakonis scoffed. "You're here for personal gain. Appearing right when there's an empty city to loot and pillage? Pathetic."

“No, Lirian. I believe the knights are here for more than just to scavenge.” Lionheart nodded to himself, which caught us by surprise. “You mentioned your mission is more important than yourselves. That dying here would be acceptable. There is only one mission clan knights would consider sacrificing their life for - your clan itself. And this many clan knights away from your home is almost unheard of - except in war and to defend your clan as a whole.”

He looked past the hills, hand pointed in the direction of the Chosen town. “You are here because the Chosen have offered you a home, safe from the machines. A place free from the surface, despite your people lacking the resources needed to conventionally take and hold territory underground, least of all a place without a pillar heart. And we represent a warband that threatens to break that home. Your clan had no choice but to send every knight they could ahead of your migration here, to defend your fledgling new home. It doesn't matter to you in the end if the cultists are lying or not. Only that they offer a new home.”

I had to hand it to him, that was a pretty good explanation for why a small army of clan knights would pop up down here protecting the Chosen. Clans wanted nothing more than to escape the surface, but Undersiders wouldn’t accept that many refugees and clans didn’t have enough knights or firepower to protect against machines even if they found a pillar heart to hide behind.

Becoming Chosen would neatly trim out all the reasons surface dwellers couldn’t migrate down here.

But this kind of reasoning might really work out for us. If we beat them up here, and proved they couldn’t drive us out - then they’d think we’re also here for good, because the rest of the clan is slowly making their way here.

Basically, we’d be telling them to pack it up and go home because we certainly weren’t and if they couldn’t beat us at their best, what chance did they have after?

I stayed silent instead, arms crossed before me.

He sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “You and your clan have damned yourselves. We are Deathless, you are not. Your skill of arms is nothing compared to the powers we wield.”

Occult pulsed around him, flattening the flowers under our feet in a wide circle. The message was clear. Which made that the absolute perfect moment to throw down some cards. I could tell Marsella also knew this was it, since she stopped eating her popcorn and leaned forward in her seat.

I said nothing in response. Then touched onto my soul fractal and flared it out. Occult crackled around, a short wave of pressure equally flattening the flowers in a ring around me for a moment. What was left behind was blue occult mist rising from my body, seeping through the armor plate segments.

The very same look Lord Atius had used when walking down that airspeeder ramp to meet the pirates. The one he used to all but announce himself as Deathless.

Lionheart’s eyes widened with realization.

And then Father joined in, and behind him all the knights as well, occult crackling past their frames. Wrath didn’t have any true occult powers besides her healing, but she still had a soul fractal and tapping into it would work much the same way.

“I told you once.” I said. “Our mission is sacred and beyond question. Death will not stop us.”

“You are all..?” Lionheart asked, sheer shock in his voice.

My silent stare back was all the answer he needed.

Earlier when I had to decide how I’d introduce myself, I had four options: Show up as Keith Winterscar, show up as disciples of Kidra, show up as a clan of warlocks, or show up as random Deathless that happened to be from a clan.

Wrath and I were undercover, trying to hide from the general machine network’s automated detection. The little chat he had with all the other Feathers and Relinquished just told him we were still well and alive, but not where we were. As far as To’Avalis knew, we were all still up on the surface.

If I showed my face as Keith Winterscar, there’d be a record. But that record would be in human hands, way off the machine network. No automated detection could spot that. Not unless To’Avalis beat up this particular group of Deathless again in the future, decided to interrogate them and found out I’d been here. By which point, I strongly suspect he’d already know if that was the question he’d ask these fine upstanding gentlemen currently looking at us with disgust.

So it was somewhat safe to come here as myself, roguish grin and all.

On the other hand, what about using the occult in the fight? We’d need a damn good reason to justify generic clan knights being able to do that. Moving at the speeds of the Winterblossom technique would mark us as out of the ordinary and related in some way to the sword saint. So how far out of the ordinary do we want to go?

We could all say we were disciples, here to help out the town on her own orders in her steed. Be a very strong show of support there.

Or we could claim ourselves sorcerer knights - a surface clan that’s discovered the secrets of the occult. Warlocks on the surface, spooky.

Occult lineages that sprout from people cutting into armors and finding their soul fractals. They’re considered common occurrences. Surface clans normally don’t ever discover those because the isolation and secretive nature of clans means that Tsuya’s orbital death cannons eliminate the clan long before the warlock guilds ever get wind it happened.

But Hexis was instantly able to connect the dots, he’d narrowed our source of occult down from either that lineage or Talen’s. And so too would the rest of the warlock guilds out there, hearing a bunch of surface dwellers running around with occult ratshit.

‘Let the machines handle them,’ the guilds would think. Or ‘It’s just fractals they learned from Talen’s book, which don’t include anything valuable like the division fractal. No need to pay attention to them.’

But the last one really worked out in almost every little checkmark. And it dovetailed perfectly well with Kidra - people already thought she was a Deathless. For all anyone knew, she learned her techniques and skills from us. Let them gossip on that.

Father took his que. “Stand down.” He growled out. “You will not win this fight. And we will spare you no quarter.”

The man next to Lionheart ripped off his helmet and threw it to the side, “Why the fuck do you defend these monsters?!” He screamed out, “You’re supposed to be better than this! We’re supposed to stand against machines and their sycophants. Not join arms with them!”

“We are here to change history. You are here for a singular grudge.” I said.

“You’re here to change your history. They’re all monsters that need to be put down.” He hissed back, then glared up at where Marsella sat. The woman gave him a smile and a finger.

Lionheart was going through a very complicated set of expressions. “When?” He eventually asked, “When did you all gain the mantle? Have you been trained yet to wield your powers? Do you have any guidance, from anyone?”

“Our training is our clan’s secret techniques.” I said. “We will not share with outsiders. Least of all those who stand against us on the other end of war.”

Lionheart nodded, “A complete disaster then.” He said, almost more to himself. Then his eyes looked back up, straight at me. “You are feral, clearly from a clan of whom the clan lord was a mortal instead if they struck such a bargain with the embodiment of evil itself. Isolated from civilization, no guidance save for tenants of your insular culture. I weep for the loss that is coming, but there are many decades yet to return sanity to your senses. A clan is ephemeral, and while you may hold strong ties to them now, a few thousand should not weigh as more important than humanity itself. When you return, send word to your people to turn back. Throw your lot with another power.”

“I take it that means you will not leave of your own accord?” I asked.

He nodded. “We will not.” He held his golden helmet and re-equipped it. “Infighting between our kind is something I had feared would happen on first hearing of your generation. Perhaps for greed, or from a more criminal background. Never had I thought it would come from defending machines, the ultimate enemy. Those who willingly surrender their freedom for safety, deserve neither. Even among Deathless. I will do what I must.”

“Draw your blades.” Father said.

Lionheart gave a nod. As did his second in command who only snarled back at us. “Gladly.”