storymasterb
Knight of RPGs
Digimon: Idylls
So this is something I haven't done for a while. I've had the seeds of this concept for some time, but it's only now that I've really developed it into a story I want to tell. A tale of gods and knights, of angels and nightmares. Of Digimon.
This story is set in a world akin to those presented in the Digimon Epics RPG series by my friend Kamotz, where Digimon have names, civilization and history. There are no humans in this world. The Digital World represented here is as much a creation of human computers as in any Digimon continuity, but that will not be as readily apparent as in those continuities.
This story contains violence, drinking of alcohol, some language, and some implied sexual situations.
With that said, let's begin.
Table of Contents:
Prologue: Uther
Chapter 1: Albion Divided
Prologue: Uther
Rain lashed the stones of Caerleon.
The downpour had lasted most of the day so far, choking out the sunlight with the sort of miserable gloom that was the staple of the island of Albion. Sure as the sea was wet and fire hot, Albion was misty and soaked with rain four-fifths of the time. The dark clouds were like a blanket draped across the province of Gwent, stretching across the fields, over the forest of Lord Ector's estate, and meeting the distant horizon.
From a window set in the wall of the castle's keep, a blue dragon-man watched the downpour. A horn of metal crested his snout, an X-shape of the same metal hue decorating his chest. White leathery wings sprouted from his shoulder blades and his tail left patterns in the dust as it swayed anxiously.
“Artorigus, come sit by the fire.” The ExVeemon at the window glanced away from the dark sky, seeing an odd figure even by the standards of their world. Seemingly part-bird, part-cat, the young man's lower half was swathed in red feathers, his talons gripping the stone. But from the waist up, white fur ran across his skin, two wings flowing out from the backs of his arms, and cat-like ears sprouting behind the visor that covered his eyes. “Watching the rain won't make your father return any sooner.”
Artorigus sighed, fixing the Silphymon with a look. “Easy for you to say, Cei. Your father never has to travel more than a few miles.”
“Ah, but my father is not lord protector of Gwent,” Cei laughed. “He is free to drink, feast and... enjoy women to his heart's content. Whereas yours must brave the miserable rains of Albion to address the ills of his banner-men at any hour of the day.”
Artorigus frowned. “Father takes his responsibilities seriously. He hasn't the time to do any of those things.”
The Silphymon moved over and gave Artorigus a brotherly pat on the shoulder. “And neither shall you, once you inherit his lands.
The ExVeemon recoiled. “That won't be for many years.”
Cei's smirk faltered, then returned redoubled. “You never know. There are whispers that Lord Caradoc is drumming up his banners to raid my father's lands. And that Lord Vortigern seeks an alliance with the Norsemen.”
Artorigus' eyes widened, then narrowed. “Where did you hear that sort of gossip? Even a villain such as Vortigern would not consort with the Norsemen.”
Cei waved a claw-tipped hand. “From places the good young princeling would not venture, naturally.” He turned his gaze to the rain. “Join me by the fire, Artorigus. Share some wine.”
Artorigus allowed the Silphymon to lead him away from the window with a last longing glance. He hoped to catch sight of his father's majestic silhouette sweeping through the rain, but no such sight greeted his eyes. Just the constant rain.
The fire roared in a great fireplace a floor below. Servants had laid out food for the pair on tables nearby, cuts of succulent meat, and plates of fruit plucked from Lord Ector's orchards. A bottle of wine from the same rested beside two glasses. Artorigus wondered idly just how Ector managed to grow the grapes in the murky conditions of Albion, but Cei was mindful to keep him from thinking, shoving a plate of meat in his direction.
“Where is your father?” the ExVeemon asked as he tried a cut, his fangs slicing the meat easily.
“At this time of day? This, but on a grander scale,” Cei laughed deeply, sampling a glass of wine. “Ah, father's orchard delivers in spades, as always.” He raised the glass. “To our fathers and the vineyards of Gwent!”
Artorigus couldn't hide a smile at that, offering a glass of his own to the toast.
“And I'm glad to hear them appreciated,” a hearty voice laughed. The two turned to see Lord Ector sweep into the room, a servant behind him with a plate of morsels no doubt salvaged from the feasting table for the lord's pleasure. Even with his tastes plain in his fattening belly, Ector cut a noble figure, his form coated in white feathers, a blue cloth slung at his side and a golden falcon as ever rested on his shoulder.
“Lord Ector,” Artorigus greeted, bowing his head.
“Father,” Cei said with him, bowing his own.
Ector laughed. “Come, boys, we are not at court today. Dispense with the miserable grovelling manners until Lord Uther returns from Ser Aurelius.”
“Aye, father,” his son chuckled.
Artorigus glanced down. “Lord Ector, my father has been a long while now. He is not normally this long to Ser Aurelius.”
Ector's mood darkened, as though the gloom outside the tower had crept into him. “Aye, my boy. Not normally, no. But from what little your father said, it was a serious matter that called him today.”
“What was it?” the ExVeemon asked, before he could stop himself.
Ector shook his head. “Better that you not know. It is your lord father's business.”
“But Artorigus is Lord Uther's son,” Cei cut in, receiving a look from both the ExVeemon and his father at that. “He is entitled to know of affairs of the realm, surely. One day they will be his affairs to arbitrate.”
“Do not let the wine go to your head, my son,” Ector replied sternly. “If Lord Uther wishes to discuss such matters with Lord Artorigus, then he will discuss them at his discretion. It is not my place to speak for him.” He paused, turned to the servant, and plucked a slice of meat from the plate she bore.
“I beg pardon,” the Silphymon murmured, averting his gaze. “I spoke out of turn.”
“You have my pardon,” Ector smiled as he turned back to them.
A knock sounded from the door, and it opened to reveal a warrior almost identical to Cei in appearance, bearing a breastplate with the falcon symbol of Lord Ector upon it. “My lords, I beg pardon for the intrusion, but Lord Uther has returned.”
Artorigus rose, his plate clattering to the tabletop. “Father is back?”
“He wishes to speak urgently with you and you alone, my lord,” the soldier said to Ector. “He brings ill tidings from Ser Aurelius, and awaits you in your study.”
Ector's expression darkened again. “I had hoped otherwise.” He looked at the two young men. “Please remain here while I speak with Lord Uther. I will ask that he be brief, my boy, I know you wish to speak with him.” He looked at Artorigus. “But I fear it may be a long discussion. You have the fire, and food, and wine, and you will have all three until we are finished.” He turned to the servant with the plate. “Leave those scraps for these gentlemen, and see to it that their glasses are filled and the fire kept burning while Lord Uther and I meet.”
“Yes, my lord,” the servant curtseyed, moving cautiously around him as he strode from the room. She set the plate down beside the rest of the food, nimble despite her large paws. She was cat-like, covered in the same white fur as Cei's upper body.
Cei was smirking at her.
“I don't think I've seen you before,” the Silphymon said.
“Oh, my lord,” the Gatomon replied, bowing her head. “I do not mean to be rude, but I am sure that you have.”
“But I could never forget such a beautiful face,” Cei said, gently lifting her chin with a touch of his finger. As he did so, he winked at Artorigus. What was his friend up to?
Cei's eye opened and glanced at the door, before he had to look down to meet the Gatomon's gaze. The Silphymon's words echoed in Artorigus' head.
“He is entitled to know of affairs of the realm, surely. One day they will be his affairs to arbitrate.”
Almost immediately he rebelled against the idea. No. If his father wished to tell him, then surely he would do so. It would be wrong to go and eavesdrop.
And yet Father had been so long with Ser Aurelius, and the news was apparently grim. Curiosity reared up like a dragon inside him, filling him with the insidious need to know. What matter was so important that Father had needed to immediately discuss it with Lord Ector, without so much as seeing his own son first?
As Cei said words to the Gatomon that Artorigus didn't process, the ExVeemon quietly crept around the pair. He heard something that sounded suspiciously like a kiss behind him as he slipped out of the door, but gave it no thought besides a silent thanks to Cei.
Lord Ector's study was only a few corridors away, but he feared at any moment that a servant might find him. If they caught him, surely Father would be furious. But perhaps they had been banished to duties elsewhere, for those corridors were silent and empty. Soon he found the door, etched with the falcon sigil and firmly shut.
Cei had once told Artorigus of eavesdropping on his father and important guests before. The door's wood was thick, but not thick enough to completely drown out conversations, the Silphymon had taken great pleasure in explaining. Now Artorigus hoped his friend's boast hadn't been as empty as some of the bold tales Cei had attempted.
As he rested an ear to the door, he found that that particular boast had been full of truth. Lord Ector's words came merely muffled to him.
“Ser Aurelius was certain it was the work of Lady Diana?”
“Quite,” his father replied, with his deep booming voice sounding deeper than ever. Ordinarily it was like a drum, but now it was like the roar of a storm. “The last man staggered in delirious and maddened by the nightmares he witnessed, but he was certain of that one detail. They had come upon Lady Diana bathing in the forest.”
There was a cold silence for enough time that Artorigus feared they knew he was there.
“What did she do?” Ector ventured hesitantly.
“The reports were... feverish. As can be expected,” Uther said. “He told Ser Aurelius that she gave the first few men the minds of beasts and made them hunt the group through the forest before tearing one another to pieces. Another man was compelled to rip out his eyes and tongue, so he could neither see her again nor tell others what he had seen. It was a horrific account.”
“Quite,” the Valkyrimon said shakily.
“The last man only just escaped her wrath, but expired of his wounds. She set his limbs against him, tried to make him strangle himself to death. He cut off an arm to escape and had to drag himself away.”
The cold silence descended again, absolute enough that Artorigus could hear his heartbeat. Lady Diana had done such things? One of the Olympians who ruled the world had committed such horrors on innocent men?
“What will you do?” Ector asked, in a tone that said he already knew.
“I shall go to Olympus,” Uther answered. “I shall call upon Lord Jupiter to punish Lady Diana for her vile crimes. And if he refuses, then I shall secede my lands from their authority. I shall not have my subjects terrorized so.”
A third patch of silence.
“If you do this, I fear I shall not see you alive again,” Ector murmured, so quietly that Artorigus could only just hear him through the door.
“Am I to let them trample upon my subjects with impunity?” Uther retorted. “To have my people tortured and slaughtered for a 'crime' so innocent as gazing upon Lady Diana without her clothes by accident? Would you have me tell Ser Aurelius such, Ector?”
“No!” Ector snapped, before catching himself and continuing more calmly. “But the Olympians do not take kindly to being questioned. In their eyes, their lordship is absolute.”
“Lordship is not a relationship of taking without giving,” Uther replied. “You know that as well as I. The subject obeys the lord. The lord provides for the subject. I think even Lord Jupiter can appreciate that it is common courtesy for lords to not drive men mad and have them kill themselves in such a fashion.” The words fell like stone slabs, spoken with a terrible finality. “Your counsel has been my saving grace often, friend, and I appreciate you for it. But I cannot compromise in the face of such an atrocity. Lady Diana shall be brought to justice, or the Olympians shall have no part in ruling my realm.”
Heart heavy, Artorigus staggered away from the door, rushing to turn the corner in case his father were to burst from the study.
Cei and the servant girl were gone when he burst back into the room with the great fire. Probably 'occupied' in some dark corner. But he had other thoughts on his mind that coiled and raged like the thunder he could now hear booming through the castle's stones. He sat and sipped weakly at the glass of wine he had left, trying to let it wash away his sudden fears.
There was a knock at the door, and it opened. His father strode in, looking like him but taller and by far more majestic. His blue-scaled form was clad in armor of black trimmed with white, red and gold, crimson wings folded behind his back. A golden crown gleamed atop his brow, the head of a dragon forged into his breastplate. The Imperialdramon Fighter Mode cut an imposing figure, suitable for the lord of the realm.
“My son,” Uther said in that booming voice, striding across the room and snatching Artorigus in his arms. Raindrops lingered on the surface of his armor, soaking against the ExVeemon's scales, but he clung to his father regardless. “I am sorry that I was so long and that I had to speak with Lord Ector before seeing you. Ser Aurelius handed me quite a puzzle, I am afraid.” He smiled and Artorigus tried to return it, but the words he had overheard killed even false amusement. “Is all well, Artorigus?”
“Of course, father,” he nodded as they drew apart.
Uther cast a puzzled glance around the room. “Ah. Where did Cei get to, the ruffian? I had hoped to see him too.”
Artorigus shrugged. “He left with a serving girl, I think. I was distracted by the food Lord Ector graciously provided.”
The Imperialdramon laughed heartily. “What a rascal he is. The spitting image of you at that age, aye, Ector?” Lord Ector had entered without Artorigus noticing.
“Aye,” Ector replied, and his smile was as feeble as Artorigus' own.
Uther looked between them. “Perhaps we ought to track the pair to their nest and see what Cei means to do without us.”
“No, leave them to it for now, I say,” the Valkyrimon replied. “I shall speak with my boy about it later, Lord Uther. It is un-”
“-becoming?” Uther finished. “Oh, Ector, the stories I could share with young Artorigus, were I so inclined.” He looked back at Artorigus. “But perhaps another time. I have to leave again, I am afraid.”
He tried hard to feign surprise even though he already knew. “Again? But why? Where?”
His father sighed. “Nowhere exciting, I am afraid. This puzzle Aurelius handed me is going to need some help to resolve and that help lies far from here.”
A continent away, in fact. In Rome, at the pinnacle of Mount Olympus where the gods held their court.
“Lord Ector shall look after you while I am gone,” Uther continued. “He will treat you as his own, as he has done before in my times of need.” He looked at his old friend with a warm, weary smile, then back at his son. “Do not dwell on my absence, my boy. You are almost a man and you have many other matters at hand. One day, you will inherit my title and Gwent with it. The ways of knighthood beckon. The affairs of state are not far behind, and behind them both is the most perilous matter of all.” He chuckled at his own pretension. “The matter of women, though perhaps the young ruffian Cei can be of assistance there.”
That got a chuckle out of Lord Ector. “I shall endeavor to make young Artorigus feel as though you never left, Lord Uther.”
“I would not expect otherwise,” the Imperialdramon said, rising. “I must leave at once, for my journey is long and hard, and I must make speed. But I will return, Artorigus. And when I do, we can put Aurelius' grim matter firmly behind us.” He embraced Artorigus again, holding him close for just a moment too long.
Was he afraid, as Artorigus was afraid?
Before the ExVeemon could say anything, before he could confess that he had overheard the conversation in the study, Uther was gone.
Ector moved across the room to take a seat beside Artorigus. He refilled the ExVeemon's glass, then filled his own and raised it for a toast. Artorigus halfheartedly reciprocated.
“I know it's hard to see him leave so soon, my boy,” Ector sighed. “But trust me, he would not do so unless he had to. He misses you dearly when his duties call him away from Caerleon.”
Artorigus nodded.
“He will be home in time, perhaps not as soon as you would like, but he will be,” the Valkyrimon said with a smile. “Your father would fight an army of Norsemen to come home to you if he had to. And he'd win too, believe me.”
“I do,” he murmured. The overheard words echoed in his head, Ector's own words about the Olympians.
“Chin up, Artorigus,” Ector said warmly. “Now, shall we go see where my son ran off to with this serving girl?”
Artorigus forced a smile and a nod.
---
A month passed. The rain gave way to the sun for a few days at a time, banishing the oppressive gloom for just enough time for Artorigus and Cei to enjoy the sunlight. They were drilled mercilessly by Uther's armory sergeant, a rugged old Paildramon who had lost fingers to a Norsemen raid long ago and saw the fine weather as an excuse to work his charges harder. But when Ector bade the man to give them leave, they lost themselves in the forests, drank until they emerged from bed in the mornings with monstrous headaches, and Cei tried to teach Artorigus the art of women.
The latter was as vexing as Uther had promised.
Artorigus almost forgot the conversation he had overheard. Surely the Olympians would see reason. Surely they would concede Lady Diana to his father and see that justice was done. His fears were foolish, born out of worry for his father.
The sun was setting on the last day before a month became a month and a day. They wandered back towards the castle, Cei's arm slung around the shoulders of a girl he had met in the forest. Her scales were the same blue as Artorigus' own and a similar horn crested her brow, but light crimson and orange armor coated her body and she lacked wings. The Silphymon and Flamedramon shared kisses as the trio made their way towards the walls to escape the approaching gloom.
The first sign Artorigus had that something was amiss came when he heard the scream. It was a woman's scream, full of pain and despair. He, Cei and the girl exchanged glances and broke into a run, drawn by curiosity and the urge to help.
The Knightmon guards were not at their posts as the three drew close, pulled away from where they would normally flank the gate and creeping inward.
“You there,” Cei called as they ran up. “What's happening? Is someone hurt?”
The guards turned and their gazes found Artorigus. Their faces paled, their eyes widening in fear and pain and dread. He felt like his stomach had become a pit and their emotions were being slowly poured in.
“Answer me!” Cei snapped. “My father is the acting lord of Caerleon in Lord Uther's absence and I demand-”
“Cei.”
Lord Ector stepped out past the guards, who dropped to their knees instinctively, and perhaps to escape Artorigus' gaze. The Valkyrimon, normally so jovial and full of life, looked gaunt and haunted. He couldn't take his eyes off of Artorigus.
“Father?” Cei asked, sounding more frightened than Artorigus could remember.
“Take the girl and... go to your chamber,” Ector said, as though he wasn't fully thinking. For a lord's son such as Cei to be found with a commoner girl in his chamber would be unthinkable. “I will find you later and explain. But Artorigus... Artorigus must hear first.”
Cei looked between them as though his mind was racing at the speed of a lightning bolt. His mouth hung slightly open and his skin was pale beneath his fur and feathers. “Father... is...”
“Go!” Ector cried, his voice wavering. Cei snapped his mouth shut and hurried past, leading the Flamedramon behind him. Artorigus stared after him for a moment, then looked into Ector's face.
“Is it... about Father?” Artorigus whispered.
Ector weakly nodded. He waved a hand and the guards dispersed, heading out of earshot. The Valkyrimon was silent, struggling to compose himself. “A messenger just arrived from Olympus.”
Artorigus wasn't thinking that Ector might find it odd that he didn't question that location. “What did they tell you?”
“Your... your father went to Olympus,” Ector admitted. “Lady Diana had slaughtered several of Ser Aurelius's men. Lord Uther...” He was almost sobbing, only just holding together. “Lord Uther refused to let her get away with it. He wanted to see her brought to heel and punished.”
Artorigus stared, feeling immediately where Ector was heading.
“He went before the Olympians and made his case,” the Valkyrimon whispered. “He, by all accounts, made a passionate plea, one that would have swayed the hearts of any mortal man.” He bowed his head, but Artorigus could see the tears escaping his eyes. “But the Olympians were not swayed. Lord Jupiter rejected his plea, said that it was not for gods to concern themselves with the feelings of mortal men.”
But Father wouldn't have accepted that.
“Your father challenged him. He stood up and declared that if he would not find justice for his murdered subjects on Olympus, then Olympus would play no part in his realm. That he would not recognize a lord who did not understand that lordship comes with obligations.”
And Lord Jupiter, proud as he was known to be, would not have taken such words.
“Your father was killed,” Ector admitted, tears falling from his cheeks. “Lord Jupiter struck him down upon the floor of the throne room. Smote him with lightning for his 'insolence'.”
Artorigus stumbled back, his world spinning around him. Even prepared for the blow, it shattered him, leaving him reeling with horror.
“Father is dead?” The words spilled out before he could catch them, punched from his mind by the shock of Ector's words.
Ector nodded weakly, and reached out to clutch him close. It seemed like he needed the embrace as much as he thought Artorigus needed it.
“Aye,” the Valkyrimon whispered bitterly. “He went to his death. I tried to tell him. I tried.” He was sobbing. “And I failed.”
Artorigus clung to him.
“I... I...” Ector murmured. “I will look after you. Uther would have wanted that. I will provide for your mother too.” He paused for a long while. “I will not be as good a father as he was... I know...”
Artorigus shook his head. “Father would have trusted no one else,” he whispered. He knew that his father had loved Ector like a brother. Surely it was true that if someone else had to raise Artorigus, Ector would have been first in line in Uther's eyes.
“Aye.” It was weak and broken-sounding.
They stood there as clouds drifted in from the horizon, as the wails of grief from within the castle rang out around them, and as the sun dipped down below the edge of the world. The world moved on, uncaring as the Olympian who had murdered his father for daring to so much as question him.
Buried deep under grief, pain and sorrow, a spark of anger lit.
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