Royal White Knights

old 30 day nanowrimo prompts.

I had never seen trees until I was well into my adulthood. I wasn’t allowed into the cities of the wealthy until I had proven myself worthy by the eyes of the Hidden. I still wasn’t worthy, no matter how high up I was to them—I wasn’t allowed. And yet, here I stand and the flowers here are beautiful. All around me sat fountains of clean water and trees filled with birds singing to the never-ending blue above. I was never allowed to grace the city of the clouds, just stuck in the perpetual fog and smoggy streets of Zion until the day I die.

But she saved me. Called me her “Champion” as she pulled me from the line of Hunters with a glistening smile on her face. And they fought her, calling me nothing but “a two-bit child who fights for scraps.” She ignored them, her warm hands at my cheeks and eyes sparkling under the dirty lights. “You will be my Champion,” she said, “and I will make you perfect.”

I could hear sky cars whir by standing in her garden. The hedges before me kept them invisible to world beyond her home. They were riddled in vines laced with flowers and unlit decorative lights, patio furniture up against it for the “flair” of it all, I’d suppose. And yet, it was better than the dormitory back in Zion.

It’s warm out here… nothing like the sticky humidity back home.

“You don’t have to become one of the statues out here. This is your home now.” I remember her name, Erinth. That’s what she told me to call her. To me, she was a friend. To me, she was my ally. Someone to “set me free,” so to say… but those were her words, not mine. “Be with me. Explore your new home. You won’t go back there.”

I shake my head. How do you explain to someone that you are to be unmoving like stone? Stronger than those statues? Speaking to her is forbidden by oath, but… even being here feels wrong. I should be in the depths of those wet streets beneath these sunlit skies…

“No, don’t shake your head. I mean this. Look at—look at me.” She has powerful brown eyes, ones focused with a god-like anger. “I have never cared for the Ivory Knights nor will I ever. I have spent decades freeing bounty hunters under Hidden command because I want to see them flourish, but I know one day, their anger will turn them back against their masters. But it hasn’t happened yet… They have, however, found joy. Will you be next?”

To break my oath? No. In my heart, I knew they were traitors to our people, but for me to abandon all of that? Nonsense.

She chuckles, hands smoothing out the length of her blue dress as she took a set aside her hedges. Erinth is radiant. Her dark brown skin glowing under the sunlight left me warm—an odd feeling in my chest to see her in such a way. “We are friends, I’ve said that before. You are contracted to me for a year and then after that, you will be free. No one will stop you. My agenda is to ensure that you leave here able to survive on your own… but I will make sure you leave here as one of the best damn hunters this galaxy has ever seen.”

Her words came tempting. The best, huh? Down in Zion, we trained together as a whole, but the body count you racked up as a solo bounty hunter is what pushed your high into the ranks that left men envious of each other. Fights broke out daily. You weren’t good enough until you stood victor among the masses of your peers, covered in their blood to prove you were worth your title… but the higher ups didn’t care. If we killed each other we were thrown into an unmarked pit and left to rot.

“I choose you randomly,” she continued, “but I was set when Loren adamantly fought to keep you, I had to have you out of spite. But keep in mind, you are no slave here. You are someone with freewill…” She scoffs this time, running her fingers through short, coarse, black hair, “He didn’t even give you a name. So what is your name?”

Silence. Did I have a name? We weren’t allowed to have names, per se. We were to remain faceless. We hid our faces from our targets and clad ourselves to be invisible but stand out among the masses. But I did have one thing. I had a registration— VN-3021. If I was to die at the hands of someone better than I, that’s what they’d receive as a name. Nothing else… for we were nothing.

“Go on. Speak up. You won’t be reprimanded here.”

My mouth felt dry. I was used to command, but also used to silence. None of us spoke to one another outside of scheduling and choosing a partner for a mission. “VN-Three Zero…”

“No,” she cut me off, “the name you chose. I know you have one. One that you’ve fancied to hear someone else say. Tell me what that is… it doesn’t have to have a reason.”

I almost felt void of thought. I had heard names of my targets screamed out by the victims on the sidelines. I had heard the names of others moaned by prostitutes down in the blue light… but I never thought of my own. That number was mine. Felt odd to have someone think otherwise. And so, I pondered for a moment. “Valentyne.”

“I’m sorry?”

“V-Valentyne.”

“I’d like a full sentence please. I want a name and a title. Choose who you are and what you’ll stand for.”

In my chest I felt proud. My teeth clenched for a moment and my chest puffed as I stood tall. “I am Valentyne, Knight of Obsidian, Hunter of the impure.”

“And what will you do, Knight of Obsidian?”

“Live… and eradicate the Ivory.”

She smiles, “Perfect.”