Knight Fall

The news had gotten everywhere.

            “The Great Guild Gaffe” read the headline in stark, bold font that practically took up half of The Velvet Gazette’s front page. Scathing remarks occupied the rest; worse than the rumors, Sonia Sapienti could only gape at the horrid diatribes the press had published. They’d called her workplace a sham, a den of incompetents, a wasteful well of corruption; they insulted their Rangers, insinuating that their reputation was built from intimidation rather than true strength, that every supposed defender of the people was only putty in hands of the Guild’s bourgeoisie, that perhaps their failure was intentional; most of all, they defamed the leader of the operation, who declined to answer any questions, who clearly was hiding something, who had too large of a personal connection to the debacle, who deserved the opposite of the qualities regularly ascribed to him, whose picture, plastered there on the page, showed him turning away from the people.

            As soon as she digested all of that and the actual events lying amid the slander, she knew what she had to do. She ran as fast as her feet could take her.

            Two inquiries later, she determined where he actually was. Ascending the inside of their mountainous guild took a lot out of her, but she dared not give in; she was stronger than that, stronger than to let both the insults of some journalist or the delicate state of her own body wear her down.

            She could smell the fresh air from down the hall, faint moonlight filtering in from the open doorway. It was pleasant, although a little warm, and silent. The natural vista she had entered had its chargestone lights darkened; the only indicator that anyone else was there was the faint, controlled flutter of paper in the wind. Her acute ears guided her toward his black form then, perched as he was on the side of the guard post. 

            She also knew, though, that he had long heard her coming.

            “Sonia?” he asked, only slightly turning his head.

            “Yes, it’s just me, Lyte,” she replied, leaving the door open and walking over to Lyte’s side. She tried to view his face, hidden as it was over his wings and facing away from her. He was being intentionally obstructive, which meant … he definitely needed to talk.

            “Something you wanted?” he asked, shuffling a page behind the others.

            Sonia leaned her arms against the wall. “How are you faring?”

            He kept his eyes fixed on the pages. “I’m fine.”

            He was not.

            She stared out into the distance, admiring the dim lights of the town below. “Uneventful day?”

            He paused, staring at the papers intently. “For the most part.”

             “What did you do?”

            “Patrolling, paperwork, meetings.” He exhaled. “Lots of meetings.”

            Sonia fiddled with the newspaper in one of her hands, crinkling the paper.

            Lyte sighed. “Sonia … please.”

            “I couldn’t just ignore this, Lyte. You know that.”

            His eyes were now firmly shut. “Please, Sonia. I’m fine. Have a lot of work to do.”

            Her smile fell. “Lyte, you always say that.”

            “Because it’s true,” he said, papers crinkling in his crimson claws. “It’s never done.”

            “But what about eating, sleeping, or taking a break? You didn’t mention any of those.” 

            His head turned slowly. One piercing golden eye now stared in her direction. “It doesn’t matter. Sonia, I am fine, please just leave me be.”

            “Lyte, you can’t just—”

            “PLEASE!” he shouted, now fully turned in her direction, eyes exhausted and frustrated, breath quick, claws curled tightly.

            She’d flinched, then, taking a few steps back at his rapid turn. One hand gripped her violet-jeweled necklace while the other was splayed and slightly behind her. Her orange eyes were wide.

            Lyte’s expression slowly softened, gaze saddening. He grunted and rubbed his head, coming down from his perch and sitting with crisscrossed legs. The metal armor bound to his tail clanked against the wall.

            Taking a deep breath and rescuing her composure, Sonia sat down across from Lyte and folded her paws together. Her eyes drifted to the newspaper still sitting on the ledge.

            “You’ve read it,” Lyte said. He looked away and wryly laughed. “Who was I kidding?”

            “You don’t need to kid with me, Lyte—you know that.” She stared straight at him, now, holding a solemn expression. “So, tell me what happened. The real story.”

            Lyte sighed. “Few days ago, we’d heard about strange fires cropping up in the Rolling Hills near Arbington. Became apparent that they were no accident; they were always near crops and on the brink of razing somebody’s livelihood. Arsonists were nowhere to be found. We tightened security there. The people were getting scared, but it was better than having them lose their livelihood in one go. Two days later, courier delivers a letter to the mayor’s place. Big death threat; we choose to keep it quiet. One of our ranks points out that there are a bunch of chess references in the writing. That’s when it hit me—the ‘Q.’ they’d signed it with stood for ‘Queen.’ And you know who likes to wear that?”

            The Braixen nodded. “So, that’s why you were assigned there—to deal with him.”

            “Yeah. Aquila knows it’s personal, but that makes me all the more invested in doing a good job.” His look grew bitter. “And yet…”

            Sonia frowned. “What happened next?”

            “We set up around the mayor’s perimeter, cancel some of his events. The Simisage is a little old, so he said it was a break for his health. Always had someone in every section of the house. I performed aerial watch as often as I could.” He paused. “Night fell. I’d been up there for almost the whole day; was about to trade off with a Noctowl. But I noticed something; another fire cropped up close by. Sent the Noctowl to investigate while I went down toward the mayor’s house. Little did I know that they were already in there.”

            Sonia blinked in surprise. “How did they do that?”

            “They dug; there was an orchard with tall trees not too far away. They used it as cover for their plans. Once inside, they set up a trap. A blast seed explosive was placed near the entrance to their passage. If the string tied to it was broken, it would go off. Then, they popped up in various parts of the house, causing chaos. Tore the place apart, ambushed guards. Mayor’s library burned and his dining room table had been smashed. I broke through the front door and did what I could; Simeon’s crew fled as soon as I got there, down each hole. Had to focus on the injured, getting them outside and making sure the mayor was safe. Just as I was going to ascend the stairs to check on him…”

            “He showed up?”

            Lyte grit his teeth, curled his claws, and trembled in anger. “That coward … he took off toward the mayor’s bedroom. He wasn’t using it at the time—he was using a spare room upstairs—so I didn’t have that to worry about. Still, I thought I could catch him and end that madness. I gave chase.” He shook his head. “Got to the room, where a Magmar guard had been shoved out of the way by him. Simeon had stopped in front of his escape tunnel. He smiled and winked, telling me that it was time to live up to my name—‘Night Lyte.’” He signaled to the sky. “Like a star or something. I thought it was a strange thing to say because I knew how he meant it. And then I saw it: the string.” His gaze drifted toward the floor. “But the Magmar didn’t. She was following the lead I’d stopped. Simeon knew how to slip by the string, sliding into the hole. But she was going in more naturally.”

            Sonia’s eyes were wide. “What did you do?”

            “Flew after her with all my might, grabbed her, dove for it. The explosion went off and caved us in. Simeon cackled and bowed as he ran off. I would’ve chased, but the Magmar cried out about her leg almost immediately. It’d been broken. I couldn’t fly in the hole, so I carried her to safety. By the time I did so, they were gone without a trace. The first floor of the house was practically destroyed—items precious to the town’s history, personal items, a way of life, all gone.” He exhaled. “We were lucky the house didn’t fall down.”

            “And then you had to deal with the aftermath.”

            Lyte lifted his head, nodding with a forlorn stare. “I was there all night. But even still…” He crumpled the papers in his fingers a bit more. “The damages are done. Arbington wants recompense. The presses want my head.” He frowned harshly. “And Simeon’s calling ‘checkmate’—this is what he wanted, and he has it, right between his chaotic claws. But who would believe me now if I told anyone?”

            Sonia turned her head and softly smiled.

            Lyte looked up and chuckled sorrowfully. “I know you do, Sonia.”

            “And other people will, Lyte.”

            “Mistakes remain mistakes no matter the good you do, Sonia. Surprised someone hasn’t fired me yet.”

            “But you did what you could to make the best of a bad situation. And—and it was far from just your oversight or mistake!”

            “But I am the one who must answer for it. I led the operation, Sonia. Everything fell under my supervision, my choices, my guidance.”

            “Yes, and that guidance prevented anyone from dying.”

            “But so much was lost. Many still suffered. I wasn’t able to—”

            “Lyte.”

            He stopped. He looked vulnerable, torn-down, worn-out. She’d already noticed the scratchiness to his voice that wasn’t normally there, but the forced ways in which he moved and the accumulation of scratches and bruises here and there indicated more and more that he hadn’t been taking care of himself. She needed to say just the right thing.

            “I know it wasn’t perfect. I know there is so much more you feel like you could have done, but this … what you’re doing, what you’re feeling, it’s only playing into Simeon’s game. He’s manipulating you.” She clenched her fist, words growing more confident. “If all that was to shame you, then he’s expecting this kind of reaction. He knows how you work. He left that ‘Q.’ calling card for you to get on the case so that he could let you tear yourself apart and dissolve the Guild’s strength from the inside. That’s what he wants. Without respect to the Guild’s authority, the Guild means nothing; when the Guild means nothing, he’ll take advantage of that to create anarchy and assume power. So, Lyte…” She paused to look straight into his eyes; he watched her intently. “Don’t let him win. Don’t let him take advantage of your dedication and kindness. The Guild is what it is because of people like you.” She gently smiled. “So … please. Take a break.”

            Lyte pondered her words for a moment. He grabbed the papers crinkled between one set of his claws and unfolded them, trying to smooth them out. He shut his eyes and exhaled. “… could save this until the morning, I guess.” Slowly, he got up; Sonia did likewise, waiting until he fully arose to rush in for a hug. His eyes shot open in tired surprise, mild embarrassment written all over his face in a blush. He let it happen before quickly reassuming some semblance of composure as she let go.

            He cleared his throat. “I’ll … be off, then.” He took a quick breath. “Thank you, Sonia.”

            She grinned. “There’s no need! I’m just glad I could help.”

            He chuckled a little, nodding to her as he began to walk inside. Sonia watched him for a moment, a dark figure passing between the radiance of various chargestone fixtures. Then, she about-faced to admire the wide-open canvas of the stars above.

            “Sonia.”

            Quickly, she turned again. Lyte had his head half-turned, one eye looking back at her. “I think there’s … one point you were wrong about.”

            “Huh?” She blinked, positively perplexed. “What is it?”

            “The Guild is what it is because of people like you, Sonia.” For once, he genuinely smiled. Then, he continued to walk away.

            Sonia turned around, mind aflutter from Lyte’s comment. “Me…?” she muttered, thinking about her simple role in keeping the place clean, preparing rooms for meetings and other uses, decorating the Guild for holidays and celebrations—small managerial tasks, really. Why would Lyte, who risked his life every day to uphold their society, ascribe such a distinction to her?

            She didn’t have long before Lyte would send another guard to this post to take his place, so she grabbed the newspaper from off of the ledge and watched the twinkling stars for a moment. Countless tiny lights were shining in harmony across the sky to keep it lit. Together they united, and together they staved off complete darkness for the world over.

            She pondered what he’d meant as her mind drifted among those murky heavens, perhaps finding that the answer was not so distant after all.