“What exactly are we looking for in a sixth?” Haydn asked as they walked.
That is a good question. “Well, I suppose between Brannon and myself we have weaponry covered.”
“And if we need to lift anything, we got you for that as well,” Haydn said before looking to Gershwin. “What do you do Gershwin, besides preach?”
Gershwin blinked, stunned. “I study and maintain the word of our lord, as is my duty,” he guffawed, as if Haydn couldn’t see the name tag that displayed his job and its functions.
“My bad. What do you do besides priesting? The Ironclad’s word is, after all, ironclad. It can’t change that much for a quick refresher to not be enough.”
Gershwin looked for pearls to clutch at before remembering pearls were far above his station. Nadia for her part looked around for another bath or even a sink to drown Haydn in. Damnit child, did your mother teach you nothing before she died?
“I will have you know being a priest is a calling that demands serious dedication, especially when tending to the many followers of Fried,” Gershwin explained. “Nadia here can attest, but I spent many a night listening to confessions and offering counsel.”
“So, you read and talk,” Haydn said, chewing on each word before pushing it out, as if doing so would make him more impressed. “You can shoot, right?”
“Yes I can shoot,” Gershwin said. “Now tell me, child—“Gershwin stretched the word like taffy”—what can you do?”
“I can run fast,” Haydn said before mumbling to himself, “I guess that’s not that impressive or skilled, it’s just running.” Haydn’s head shot back up. “And I can patch people up real good.”
Gershwin nodded. “That is useful. Can you shoot?” he asked, eyeing Haydn’s arms or lack thereof.
“I prefer handguns,” Haydn said, shoulders inching up once again. “It’s what I have experience with.”
Gershwin looked the boy over before nodding. “That is understandable. I too prefer handguns for the same reason. Although”—Gershwin chuckled—“rifles have grown on me as of late.”
“If you must know, I can—“Nadia stopped when she saw a figure fidgeting with the wires of a vending machine, blue and orange sparks flashing around the wires they held in their hands. “Hey!” Nadia yelled as she ran at the criminal, Gershwin and Haydn lagging behind. The figure swiped two cans from the cubby before running away from the she-beast running at him. “Stop, thief! Haydn, tackle him!” Nadia commanded as the figure increased the distance between them.
Nadia found herself running alone, with Haydn and Gershwin watching curiously, the latter already preparing a lecture for her and the thief. That is fine, I will have a lecture for both of them, Nadia thought as she grabbed the man by the shoulders and brought him to the ground. Glancing behind her, Nadia saw Haydn and Gershwin kick their feet before jogging to her, no particular urgency in their step.
“Since you already got it covered. I’ll go get one of the knights,” Haydn muttered before he sped off.
Nadia had a feeling Haydn would take his sweet time getting a knight but said nothing, instead tossing the figure against the wall of a nearby concessions kiosk. His hoodie fell around his shoulders, revealing radiant copper locks and rich, mulch-brown skin. “I just wanted a fucking soda,” he groaned.
“And you could not pay for it?” Nadia asked.
“With what money?” he asked as he scratched at his wrists, a lighter shade of brown from repeated scratching. “We burnt it all.”
That…is true, Nadia reasoned as Gershwin sat beside the man, opening one can of soda and passing the other to the thief.
“Thanks,” the man said weakly as he took the drink from Gershwin, a green cylinder with the word flux written in big grey letters down the side. “I’m Samuel, if you care to know.”
“Gershwin, and that would be Nadia, and the one who ran off would be Haydn.”
Nadia’s gaze honed on Gershwin. “You are just telling him this, are you?” she hissed.
Gershwin shrugged. “I only ran because you did,” he said before opening the other soda.
“He was, is, a thief!” Nadia seethed.
Gershwin shrugged again. “Of soda. The real crime here is how flat this is.” He put his can down. “Next time, steal something that isn’t diet.”
Samuel chuckled. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Nadia was going to lecture Gershwin before she remembered it was not her place, both as a woman and as someone outside of the clergy. But the Book of Rings does provide stipulations for criticizing a priest, among them is abdication of duty, Nadia reasoned as the necessary verses came to mind. Yes, those should work.
Whatever verses Nadia had in mind died on her tongue as a nearby speaker broke the silence. “All initiates, please report to the main arena,” Siegfried’s voice rang out.
Gershwin pushed himself to his feet. “Are the others already here?”
“I do not know,” Nadia mused aloud. “It is quick, so they must have all gotten their trains working, or perhaps the saints have arrived, and Siegf—”
“Woah, the saints are coming?” Samuel interjected. “Which ones?”
“Yes. Is someone accompanying Deimos?” Gershwin asked.
Nadia plastered on a smile. “Yes. As I was saying, the Saints of Body and Discernment will be joining the Saint of Mind.” Gershwin pouted. “Is something wrong Gershwin? I figured you would be enthusiastic to see not one but three saints.”
“No, Nadia, I am thrilled to be in the presence of the saints, it is just that when you said other saints were coming, I hoped Lord Junger would be amongst them. Anyway”—Gershwin dusted off his pants—“let us not keep them waiting.”
Nadia shot Samuel a I am not debating this further, you will do as I say glare that she might have used on Jan if he was still alive. “You should be ashamed. As a knight of the Krieger Orders, you have a duty to be better, not worse than the rest of Atlas,” she said before following Gershwin.
The main arena was packed like synthetic sardines, themselves packed twice as dense as the genuine ones. Nadia navigated through the crowd with hands close to her crotch, lest she accidentally touch someone and contact who knows what. She lost Gershwin in seconds and searching for the others proved futile. Dejected, Nadia looked at the screens that showed the saints conversing on a balcony, Siegfried a winged shadow behind them.
Deimos was a gangly scarecrow of bony yellow skin, complete with a creepily wide grin and fingers he cradled together ominously. Either that is an act or he just does all the time, Nadia determined. His armor was a simple, blood-red half plate, foregoing the usual horrific designs of Fifth, for now at least. Atlasian corpses left to dry were bloody and pale, but he looked the worst of them had been put in a microwave and forgotten for 80,000 years.
Tox Ishii wore a bulky set of green plates, complete with silver serpent inlays. Unlike his daughter Anika, Tox did not wear the large coat and integrated his respirator into the bottom of his sallet helmet, rather than relying on the gas mask alone for defense. Two cylindrical tanks on his back ran to hoses on his gauntlets, themselves ending in steel claws.
On Deimos’ other side stood Third Saint Elizabeth Skarbek, snowy, chin-length bob bright as torch-flame against her black panoply. Pauldrons wrought in the shape of raven heads topped her half-plate, beady glass eyes staring over the amassed initiates. Black feathers extended like tassels from the pauldrons, and the waist's tasset plates formed a many layered dress that Nadia was dying to wear herself one day. She is so poised and elegant! Nadia thought. Skarbek was simply everything a lady ought to be, from the straight spine to the hands waiting patiently behind her back. No wonder the Ironclad made her a saint.
The saints conversed for an hour, letting imitates file in before Siegfried stepped forward to announce them. “Now that you are all here, we can officially move into phase one!” Siegfried shouted, drawing applause from the initiates. Siegfried whispered something to the saints, eliciting chuckles from Deimos and Ishii and an eye roll from Skarbek. “With three saints here, I think it is only right that they lead us in the Prayer of Twelve.”
Deimos stepped forward and placed a hand on Siegfried’s shoulder. “I think that is a great idea, Lord Siegfried,” he said, voice raspy as if he had just sucked down a cigar before speaking each word,. “Let us pray,” Deimos continued as he lifted his hands palm-to-palm above his head.
Deimos led the initiates in a standard Prayer of Twelve, not placing any emphasis on the sections for Tox, Elizabeth, or himself. Siegfried paled when the verse for his order was recited, as did Deimos and Skarbek, their faces regaining color on the closure of the prayer. When the prayer ended, the crowd of initiates shouted out the motto of their favorite order instead of the usual Dein Wille ist unser, es wird geschehen. Nadia finished the prayer normally before muttering to herself, “glaube jenseits der priester, glaube jenseits der buches.”
Skarbek eyes narrowed at the changed endings, and Nadia thought the saint was looking at her. The other knights on the balcony paid no mind, though, Deimos didn’t let up his creepy smile, and Ishii’s face was completely hidden.
“Now, onto phase one,” Deimos said as the screens showed a map of the floor, with five blocky fortifications laid out on either side of the arena. “While you slept, the hands of Fried toiled to mold the earth to test you and supply you. Form into groups of six and proceed from here. Each of you will be given either a white or black card upon leaving, and you will need to procure a card of the opposite color as well as a red card for your team in the tundra. Once a black card and white card for each member and a red team card are obtained”— three cards materialized in Deimos’ fingers—“proceed to the one of the larger forts on the map and use your cards to complete the challenges therein. Upon completing the tasks, you will have finished this phase of trials.” Deimos’ lips didn’t move, and silence hung thick enough over the arena for the initiates’ blinking to be heard. “What are you waiting for? Encouragement? Be gone with you!” he exclaimed as he flicked his hand at the initiates below,
The initiates elbowed and toppled each other as they pushed to find their friends and the exits of the arena. Through the mass of people, Nadia could see that kiosks had been set up at the exits where several grey clad acolytes were handing out cards. I need to get a card, I can find my team after, Nadia thought..
A hand shot to Nadia’s shoulder. “Oh, thank Fried I found you,” Haydn said, winded. Nadia’s hand was a fist, ready to fly, but she gripped her pant leg as to not throttle the boy for grabbing her. “Did you find the others?”
“No,” Nadia grabbed Haydn and set him on her shoulders, “but you can.” By Fried, I could throw him out of this stadium with how light he is.
Haydn shifted his stance to stand on Nadia’s shoulders, which were more than wide enough for him. “11 o’clock!” Haydn called out after a moment. “I see the bitch and her hound.”
“They are Natalia and Brannon,” Nadia said through her teeth as she pushed through the crowd. Haydn wobbled as Nadia waded through the mass of people, catching himself with his legs on her nape.
“I’ll call them that to their face,” Haydn said as he rode Nadia’s neck like a horse. “Okay, turn to 10 o’clock now.”
“You and I are going to have a serious conversation on manners when we are done with this trial,” Nadia said as she changed directions. “You, and Samuel, and Natalia and…all of you! All of you are in need of a lesson if you are to be krieger knights!”
Haydn’s legs clapped Nadia on the cheeks as his body convulsed with laughter. “Why do I feel like I’ll be the easiest to teach of all of us? Okay, nine o’clock now, twenty feet. Natalia! Brannon!”
Why do I feel you are right on that assessment, Haydn? Nadia wondered as she changed directions for the last time. “Have you seen Gershwin?” Nadia asked when she had crossed the sea to Natalia and Brannon.
Natalia shook her head. “No, and we didn’t find a sixth either. Did you?”
Nadia sighed at the memory of Samuel. “Yes. We did. I figure he is looking for Gershwin right now. Find Gershwin—”
“We complete our team,” Natalia finished. “Under better circumstances, I would fly up and find them, but I am quite drained.”
Nadia hefted Haydn back onto her shoulders. “Haydn, can you see either Gershwin or Samuel?”
“Samuel?” Natalia asked. “What can this Samuel do?” She glanced at Haydn on Nadia’s shoulders. “Tell me this Samuel is at least 13,” Natalia whispered.
“Hey, I’m 15 lady!” Haydn shouted. “I see Gershy and he’s got that redhead with him! Eight o’clock!”
“Splendid!” Natalia exclaimed, bringing her hands together. “Let’s go!” she yelled before grabbing Brannon’s hand and yanking him through the crowd.
Natalia and Brannon regrouped with Gershwin and Samuel first. “Oh, it is great to see both of you!” Gershwin exclaimed as he brought his hands together, palm-to-palm. “For a moment I thought I would need to find a new group, but it seems that Fried has brought us together once again.”
“Fingers of a hand will always find each other,” Nadia said with a smile. A weird hand with six fingers in this case.
Gershwin smiled. “Yes, it seems that they do.” He turned toNatalia and Brannon. “Where are my manners? This is Samuel. Samuel, Natalia and Brannon. I’m sure you can figure which is which.”
“Now that we’re all acquainted,” Brannon said, “let’s get some cards while they still have them.”
Haydn dropped down onto Nadia’s neck and moved to dismount further before Nadia stopped him with a hand on his inner thigh. “Stay on until we are out,” Nadia instructed. “I do not want you getting crushed.”
“Aww,” Haydn said. “I’m starting to think you might actually like me being around just a little bit.”
Nadia rolled her eyes. “No. Lord Deimos instructed we operate in groups of six and I am in no mood to cobble another group together. This one has been taxing enough.”
Haydn laughed. “I’ll have you singing a different tune by the end of this,” he said before the group retrieved their cards and fled the stadium.