Interlude: Signum
Signum could use a teleport, but she saw no reason to hasten her journey.
Walking was what warriors did often, after all. And no matter how disgraced, how fallen, how tainted she was, Signum would always be a warrior to the core.
The case in her sword hand hung like a swaying corpse on a gallows.
Signum walked.
This was what her kind had become, after the long years.
Her boots crunched on broken glass, shredded posters and gun casings.
Her sword Laevantine bumped the back of her thigh with every second step. The scabbard and the hilt of her weapon were the only items Signum wore that had remained as unchanging as Signum herself, immune to the wind and ruin of time. As the years marched on, they were the only things Signum bothered to care about anymore.
If she died, Signum hoped that her worthy blade would go with her. There are no more heroes to take it up.
And Signum had no more family to leave it behind to.
**O**
9 years in the past
“You’re not leaving?” For the first time in a long time, Signum felt nothing but shock.
Shamal lifted her hands helplessly, her purple eyes dull and vaguely pleading. “I can’t.”
“What knowledge can be worth another few decades with Huckebein?” Signum jabbed a finger in the direction of the black tower, coldly angry. “He
killed Vita…and you would stay with
him?”
Her blonde counterpart flinched, the Lake Knight’s expression turning dark. “I haven’t finished learning from him, Signum. Even though he had done…done that to Vita, I can’t leave now.”
“The world is changing.” Signum turned her face away, her long ponytail brushing across her dented armour. “A hundred years isn’t the same any more. If you lived among the mortal humans, you would know. None of
them would spend another minute, let alone another half-decade, with the murderer of one of their own.”
“Time is all we have now,” Shamal answered, bitter. “All magic is dying as the decades roll on, and even mine is no exception. Don’t you understand? Huckebein has knowledge that I want…that I
must know. He stole Vita’s heart, her soul, her
Core. Magic like that is gone anywhere else in this world. I must know it…”
Signum growled, her hand turning white on Laevantine’s hilt. “I’ll kill him.”
“You will not,” Shamal commanded, her eyes narrowed. “Our kind is passing in this world, Signum. Can’t you see it? Mortals used to attend
us. And now all we do is adorn their court with our mystique and our wisdom that they heed no longer. I won’t let our kind pass dying silently into the night.”
“It sounds like what
she would have said.”
“She died two centuries ago. The line is of Angels now.” Shamal shook her head, getting them back to their original topic. “I will not go with you.”
“And I cannot come here any longer,” Signum said quietly. “So then this is goodbye?”
Shamal’s lip quivered, and she looked at Signum with tear-filled eyes. But not a tear dropped. “See you soon.”
“Times are changing,” was all Signum would say, turning her back to Shamal. She couldn’t look at her companion any longer, or else Signum couldn’t have walked away. “A minute is a year now, Shamal. Maybe we will see each other again.”
**O**
Laevantine no longer spoke to Signum. She couldn’t even remember when her blade had fallen silent, as the world turned around its center over and over, and ages passed.
Signum should have taken that as a sign, long ago.
But back then, half a century went by in a blur, and all three of them had been together. And the world had been terrifyingly adventurous, with little mortal things that blazed into life and died so quickly they fought for life with incredible ferocity. They had been fascinated.
Signum should have realized that it was a sign of the dying of her kind.
“When had
trees become old things?” Vita had exclaimed bewilderedly one day.
When had their kind become spectators in the world while the mortals lived in it?
**O**
9 years ago
“Sir Signum? You’re awfully quiet today.” The young princess leaned in close, looking up Signum’s taller height to peer into the knight’s eyes.
“Am I?” Signum asked. Even the little princess’ charm couldn’t lift Signum’s mood.
The little girl nodded, her honey-blonde locks flopping as she blinked her wide red and green eyes. “Are you still sad because your friend died?”
“Vita…was more than a friend, Princess Olivie.”
“Oh.” Olivie frowned, thinking hard. “Um, was she like you and Lady Shamal then? Er…with both of you?”
“No. Vita was…my family.” Signum stumbled a bit over that last word. It didn’t quite fit with the proper translation in their ancient language, but she didn’t know any other word that would have fit. Vita, Shamal and Signum were of one kind, but they weren’t
family in the way that mortals thought of it.
“But you called Lady Shamal your family too…” Olivie scratched her head, looking befuddled. “I don’t think that I kiss
my sister like that…”
“…It’s complicated for our kind, princess.”
“It
sounds complicated,” complained Olivie as she scuffed her boots a little, starting to walk down the path. Signum followed silently. “Is that why you’re sad? Did you have a fight with Lady Shamal?”
“Perhaps,” admitted Signum. “She and Vita were to look after each other. They both failed—and now Vita is gone, and Shamal is with a bad mage.” That was grossly over-simplifying things, but Signum did not feel any inclination to elaborate further. “And I’m not certain where our place in this new world is anymore.” She had been raised as a warrior, to champion her people across the world. In some dimensions, that had involved conquering armies and destroying kingdoms; in others, she had studied art and magic with Vita and Shamal, and listened in the hearts of forests for a single line of poetry from ancient voices. But as dimensions merged and vanished in the wake of magic bleeding from the world, Signum had found herself more and more at a loss of how to fulfill her oath. And as her kind dwindled, there was no more cause for her to champion.
“You belong here with me!” Olivie declared, grabbing onto Signum’s hand earnestly. “You’re my friend! And you’ve been part of my family for ages and ages!”
Ages to humans was like a few weeks from Signum’s perspective, but she refrained from commenting on that.
So although the Huckebein had ripped out Vita’s Core and let her body crumble into ambient magic more than a month ago, for Signum the pain was as fresh as if it had happened an instant before. Shamal understood, but to the humans Signum lived with at this human court, life moved on.
“That is kind of you to say, Princess Olivie.”
The girl brightened, happy in her innocence. “Yes!” She let go of Signum’s hand and danced away, running down the garden path with her arms held out at shoulder-height.
And that was when Signum’s attention snapped to the man on the garden wall.
Laevantine was in her hands instantly, and Signum hurtled down the path. A time ago, she remembered flying, but even to her that memory was old. But there was no way she would not be fast enough, she was armed with a sword while the man only had a metal stick at such a far distance from the princess—
Thunder boomed in the daylight.
A billow of smoke shrouded the man, but Signum was faster than any other cast magic. She leapt, splitting the man into two diagonally with a swipe. He gurgled a scream as he fell, his weapon landing in the dug dirt by the orchids as his grisely remains fell outside of the wall. A good blow, Signum thought, pleased, for someone out of practice.
“Princess?” Signum jumped down from the wall, flicking blood droplets off her blade before sheathing her sword. Then she stilled.
Olivie lay in a little heap on the stones, curled up limply on her side.
A black hole gaped in her chest, her body and face streaked with blood. The eyelid above her red eye flickered once, then stilled into an empty stare.
Even if she was still stunned over what sorcery or curse or cruel weapon had done this, Signum knew a dead body when she saw one.
**O**
When Signum reached the rendez-vous point, her employer was already there.
She didn’t know who he was. It didn’t matter.
A knight never asked nor questioned. Fallen from knight to mercenary, Signum didn’t care enough to question.
At least by doing something, the seconds ticked by faster. One after another, they slipped away into timelessness.
How had Signum once passed a dozen years at a time as a blur? She now choked on the seconds of time. A minute was a year of agony.
Her employer had brought far too many gunhands for a hand-over.
**O**
9 years ago
A sudden shot of pain in her arm was the first thing to knock Signum from her stupour as she stared at Olivie’s corpse. Only a moment ago the little girl had been laughing and running. Had been alive.
“Get away from her!” A guard screamed.
Signum had been surrounded, and she hadn’t even noticed.
An archer fired another arrow. This one pinged off Signum’s armour.
She stepped back.
“How could you have let her die!” The King screamed, collapsing to his knees beside his youngest daughter and gathered her up in his arms, sobbing. His robes soaked with blood, but he did not care. “Aren’t you some kind of god? Some powerful thing? Get away! Guards, kill the traitorous knight!”
A volley of arrows flew at Signum. She turned her back, flinching only lightly when one or two struck past her armour.
She walked away.
The King had been wrong. Signum wasn’t a traitorous knight.
Just a failed one.
******XXXX******
A young man had stumbled across her campfire one night, and begged her to save him from his pursuers. His hunters had thrown a spear at Signum, because she had been in the way.
She had killed them.
The young man had given her ten gold coins.
****XXX****
A widow had offered Signum a small bag of silver pieces if she could guard the widow’s carriage as she had passed through bandit country.
Signum had taken the money.
The widow had gotten through the area safely.
There were no more bandits in that region.
***XX***
“Thanks for the delivery,” the gang boss nodded at Signum, his yellowed teeth curved in a sinister smile. “Saved me from hiring three louts to do the same job.”
He paid her in a brick of white powder.
Signum had thrown it away.
She was no longer doing it for the money anyway.
**X**
Signum looked at the gunhands, noting the types of weapons. Ten seconds of firing could blow her to shreds that even someone like her couldn’t recover from. They were a respectful distance away, but only a distance for an ordinary swordsman. Every man or woman was easily within Signum’s reach.
Instead of reaching for her sword, Signum held out the case. “This is yours.”
“That’s mine,” her employer agreed. He smiled a mockery of an apologetic grin at her. “It’s a lot of money in warfare you’ve brought me here. It’ll make me a pretty killing. But you know what businessmen are like, eh?” One hand waved, and all his gunhands raised their weapons.
“We don’t like giving up any more money than we don’t have to. And I had promised you a hefty sum that I’d much rather keep for myself.”
Signum kept holding the case.
In unison, a dozen fingers tightened on their triggers.
“Defenser Plus.”
White-gold specks ratted against the yellow dome that had sprung up around Signum, encasing her in a barrier. The bullets all clattered in a metallic rain to the ground, as a black blur swept into the shooters.
In less than half a minute, it was all over.
The barrier faded away, leaving Signum standing face to face with a young mage.
“Hi,” the mage offered. Her black cape fluttered behind her in the dusty wind, the white of the skirt around her waist standing out starkly against the rest of her dark armour. She lowered her golden scythe until its weight rested gently on the ground beside her, although the teenage mage looked like she was used to bearing its weight. Her long blonde hair was tied back in twintails, the blue ribbons matching the blue belt straps on her armour. “Were you about to
let them shoot you?”
Signum dropped the case on the ground, still impassive.
The blonde mage cocked her head, looking at Signum with deep red eyes. “My name is Alicia. Alicia Testarossa.”
Signum grunted, a grim sigh escaping her. “Black Angel.”
“Ah, you know who I am,” Alicia remarked, her friendly tone unchanged. She even smiled. “You don’t seem like a Warden, so may I know who you are?”
“Signum. And Laevantine.”
“I’ve never heard of you.” Alicia held out a gloved hand, her left one, as she smiled more brightly. Signum recognized the tradition, and although neither of them had shields to place in their right hands to hamper their weapon hands, the intent was clear. A formalized overture of trust was being offered. “It is my honour to meet you, Knight of the Sword.” Alicia made a reverent nod to Laevantine.
Signum closed her eyes briefly, a smile twisting her lips. For a stranger, a young mortal mage, to inadvertently use a title that Signum hadn’t heard for millennia?
Fate.
Signum was not so removed from the world to miss the signs of Fate guiding her hand.
She placed hers in Alicia’s.
Alicia’s eyes softened, a sadness spreading across her candid face. “Why would a knight like yourself align with these thugs? Their only objective is to hurt and kill people, in ignoble ways.”
“What value does a human’s purpose have for me?” Signum said. “My kind has lost its purpose many centuries ago.”
Alicia’s grip tightened around Signum’s hand, but the grasp was not in anger. “Your kind? You’re not your kind. May I offer to you my own cause?”
Signum tensed. “I have stayed out of your war for many of its iterations now.”
“But times are changing,” Alicia replied, innocently unaware of the ominous echo that sunk into Signum’s blood. “And
now is when those who once stood to the side have to choose sides, and help in a cause that is greater than any of us. This is about the end of the world, or its salvation. If your kind has been around for long enough to appreciate the beauty of this world, you would know…you would believe that it is worth fighting for.”
A lump lodged in Signum’s throat, and she looked down to give herself time to compose herself.
A warrior lived to champion a cause. A knight lived to serve an honourable lord and master. Signum needed a cause to believe in.
For too long, she had lived aimless, a mockery of the knighthood bestowed upon her once upon a time. And here was a girl with shining red eyes offering her an honourable purpose in this world.
Signum drew Laevantine, the long blade flashing in the dim light. She could have sworn that a hint of its own fire gleamed under the surface for an instant before Signum sank to her knees, holding Laevantine in both hands. She offered it to Alicia, and Signum knew that her old fire was burning in her eyes again as she looked upon her new mistress.
“My sword is yours, Black Angel.”
The young mage smiled, laying her hands on top of Signum’s, touching Laevantine’s blade lightly in an acceptance of Signum’s fealty and honour.
“It’s Alicia.”
Signum stared fiercely back at her.
“Alicia.”
**O**
Present Day, 5 years later
No matter how hard Signum tried, she couldn’t do it.
She could not wash her hands enough to get rid of the memory and warm wetness of Alicia’s blood on her skin.
She could not forget Alicia’s fervent burgundy eyes fading into a dull red.
Every time she looked at Fate, Signum remembered how she had failed, once again.