The Last Paladin: Ep1: Sacrificial Virgins and Hungry Pigs
Act 3: The Last Paladin
The priests and the knights cried out and Miriam shielded her eyes. Ahead of them on the mud track stood a tall man in plate armor and a white tabard with a sunburst design. He looked older, in his fifties or so. The man carried a glowing long sword in his right hand. In his left hand he held a white kite shield with a golden sunburst design emblazoned across it.
“In the name of Michael, and Gabriel, Raphael and Uriel, I command you to surrender.” The man said in a booming voice.
Miriam stared. Where had this man come from? Where had the shadow thing gone? Who was this man? Questions whirled through her head.
“We are not afraid of you, angel spawn.” One of the priests answered.
“That’s your mistake then.” The man pushed into a run and thrust his sword through the neck of the nearest priest.
The lead priest began speaking in the dark speech again. The man pulled his sword free and stepped forward. He slammed his shield into the face of the priest who’d been speaking. The priest crumpled to the ground. The man swung his sword, beheading the next priest and moving to face the last priest.
The Obsidian Knights scrambled. They positioned themselves between the remaining Diabolist priest and their opponent. The knights outnumbered the man five to one, but they seemed afraid to engage with him.
“Take him. There are five of you!” The priest commanded.
“But that’s Balthasar.” One of the Obsidian knights answered.
“Balthasar the Fallen. His powers are a fraction of what they were. Take him!”
“Perform the sacrifice here.” One of the knights countered. “With the power of a virgin sacrifice, he’ll be finished.”
Balthasar grinned. “Hang tight, ladies. We’re getting through this.”
Light from Balthasar’s sword drove the Obsidian knights back on the defensive. He caught one knight off balance. And he plunged his sword into the man’s pelvis beneath the knight’s breast plate. The knight stumbled. He dropped his sword and fell to his knees. Balthasar kept moving. He disarmed another knight, hammering the pommel of his sword into the knight’s armored glove.
Miriam was struggling to keep up with what was happening. She knew who Balthasar was. Or rather, everyone knew who Balthasar was. Assuming this was that Balthasar. And it was not a common name. Balthasar had been one of the four Paladins, along with Melchior, Gaspar, and Simon Magus. They had been the Paladins who fell. Melchior and Gaspar had turned to the Shadow. They had made deals with archdemons, abandoning the archangels they had served. Balthasar and Simon Magus had vanished from the history books. Most people had thought they had died, presumably killed by Melchior and Gaspar.
But here was a man dressed in the armor and the tabard of a paladin. He was swinging a glowing sword. And the Obsidian Knights were calling him Balthasar.
Had a paladin survived?
Moll pushed past the Knights and squared off with Balthasar. She took a breath and then began vomiting a stream of noxious green smoke at the man. Balthasar held out his sword horizontally, and the blade shone. The smoke burned away as it reached the sword. But the stream of gas seemed to have Balthasar on the back foot. He couldn’t do more than block the attack. At least the smoke prevented the knights from closing with Balthasar and attacking.
The remaining priest looked back at the girls, chained together, beside him.
“Killing Balthasar the Fallen is worth burning up a sacrifice before we reach the Tower.”
The priest stalked towards them. Eve stepped forward between the priest and the other girls.
“Not on your life creep.” She said.
The priest drew his twisting serpentine dagger and pointed it at Eve.
“Are you volunteering?”
Instead of answering, Even launched a kick at the priest’s groin. He saw the blow coming and stepped back. He snarled something short and clipped in the dark speech. A blast of wind launched Eve backwards, dragging the other girls behind her.
Miriam landed hard on the small of her back and struggled to catch her breath. She looked around and realized that she now lay closest to the priest. He loomed over her and began to chant in the dark speech.
Miriam knew that she was about to die.
Eve cried out. “No! Don’t you dare! Stop him! Save her! She’s my friend!”
The priest turned and looked at Eve. And Eve paused as though listening.
And then she said. “Yes. Fine! I accept. I accept your terms. Now save her!”
Miriam winced. She knew she wasn’t worth a demonic pact. And she dreaded what would happen to Eve. Miriam waited.
And then Eve erupted in flame.
Rings of fire wrapped around her and pulled her into the air.
Miriam pressed herself to the ground as the wind picked up. Dust and grass and stones flew into the air and Miriam shielded herself from the onslaught of debris. Eve shone like the sun unshadowed. Miriam couldn’t look at the other girl directly. Eve hung in the air, the rings of fire spiraling around her glowing form. Her glowing body stretched and changed. Inside the wheels of light, the girl screamed. Some force pushed their captors back, sending the enemies sliding away from Eve. Miriam noted that Balthasar seemed to feel the force as well, but was managing to resent its push.
And then the light faded from blinding to only dazzling. And Eve stood transformed. Her body had shifted from the body of a fifteen year old girl to that of a muscular twenty year old woman. Her peasant dress had been replaced by a full length white dress with gilded plate armor over top of it. The breast plate had the same sunburst motif that Balthasar wore. Wings of fire radiated out behind her and she hovered a foot about the charred earth.
Eve looked at the forces of the Shadow. Then she looked at the corpse of a desiccated tree several yards away. Eve reached out and a massive branch tore free from the dead tree and flew into her hand. The branch burst into flame and Eve turned back to face her opponents.
“In the name of the Archangel Michael, I command that you surrender.” A choir of voices echoed behind Eve’s own voice as she spoke.
The knights cowered, but did not flee. And Eve closed with them, her new club blazing in her hand. Moll stared at the transformed Eve for a moment. Eve brought her tree branch club down upon the skull of an obsidian knight. And the newborn witch launched into the sky and fled. Miriam jolted. She hadn’t known witches could fly. Maybe only some could. She didn’t know. Miriam watched as the remaining knights attempted to mount a counter attack. In response Eve raised the burning club above her head.
“Rain of Fire!” She cried with the voice of a choir, a hundred voices speaking as one.
And as Miriam watched, fire rained down from the sky, striking the knights and burning them to ash.
The surviving priest found himself alone. And before Miriam could react, the priest grabbed her and brought his dagger to her throat.
Eve looked at the priest. And she growled.
Balthasar dropped his shield and to Miriam’s alarm the man’s left arm extended. The limb turned black and inky and snaked towards the priest and Miriam. The snake-like shadow hand grabbed Miriam by the shoulder and pulled her from the priest’s grip.
Color drained from the priest’s face. But before he could react, Eve flew at him. She drove the burning tree branch into the priest’s chest. Miriam heard things crack and pop that were not supposed to make those noises. The priest’s body crumpled and twisted. And then Eve swung the branch like a club and connected with the priest’s body. The priest flew in a massive arc and crashed to the ground and lay still.
That done, Eve collapsed to the ground. The air around her erupted in a dome of fire. And then the fire disappeared and Eve lay flat on her face in the dirt.
Balthasar dropped his sword and shook his arm.
“By the Four that hurts.” He muttered. And Miriam noted that the man’s arm was smoking under his armor.
“Are you on fire?” she asked.
Balthasar waved her off. “I’m fine. My old profession doesn’t agree with my new medical condition. That’s all.”
“What does that mean?” Miriam asked.
“Later. More important right now, we have a paladin. A genuine paladin, empowered by the archangel Michael and wielding holy flame to prove it. I’ve been searching for more than a decade, waiting for an archangel to choose a new paladin. And finally, here we are.”
Eve shuddered to her feet, once more looking like a fifteen year old girl and not a twenty year old titan.
“Does it always feel like that?” She asked.
“When the power leaves you?” Balthasar asked. “Oh yes, you feel like a wrung out dishrag. It’s terrible. Can you still hear Michael in your head?”
Eve nodded.
Balthasar smiled. “Good. Then this isn’t a one time transformation. Congratulations. That makes you the last paladin. The only paladin. It's better to think of yourself as the first paladin, actually.”
“Aren’t you a paladin?” Miriam asked.
Balthasar shook his head. “Not for a long time. I’ve got the sword and I can still use the damned thing. But no. I proved myself unworthy long ago.”
“And you’re still fighting?” Eve asked.
“Even death isn’t stopping me from fighting.” Balthasar answered.
Eve looked down at her hands and then back at Balthasar. “So what about me? What should I do?”
Balthasar put a hand on her shoulder. “Well, I hope you will seek out the other three paladins. There are four archangels. And if Michael has chosen you, I have to assume the other three are doing the same thing.”
“Alone?” Eve asked.
Miriam shook her head. “No. Because I’m coming with you.”
Balthasar turned and raised an eyebrow. “You survived becoming a literal human sacrifice. You aren’t a paladin. You don’t need to throw yourself back into this fight. You can go home.”
“With my name on a sacrificial scroll? Really? Where can I go that a priest or a knight isn’t going to drag me back to the Sundered Tower to open my chest up?”
Balthasar didn’t answer.
“My normal life ended when they put my name on that scroll. All I can do now is fight. So I’m not a paladin. So I can’t summon holy fire or anything. I’m not stopping.”
“Well I want to go home.” One of the remaining girls said. The others nodded.
“I have contacts who can hide you,” Balthasar said. “We can get you somewhere safe.”
“That’s fine for them,” Miriam said. “I’m staying.”
“It will be good to have a friend in all this.” Eve said.
“We’ll need to get you a proper weapon.” Balthasar said. “A paladin needs a better holy weapon than a random tree branch.”
“We?” Eve asked.
“I’ve spent a decade searching for you. I’m not leaving you to fend for yourself now that I’ve found you, am I?”
“So it’s us against the world then?” Eve said.
“We were struggling to fight without hope before.” Miriam said. “But this, the return of an archangel and a paladin, this had brought hope back into the world.”
Eve snorted. “It’s a pretty frail hope.”
“It’s enough,” Miriam said. “It has to be enough.”
. . .
Inside the Sundered Tower, Moll knelt before Lord Melchior as he sat on his throne.
“And you are sure this is my Balthasar?”
Moll shook her head. “I’ve never seen the man. But the Obsidian Knights seemed certain.”
“And the girl. She named the Archangel Michal, and had flaming wings?”
Moll nodded. “Yes, my lord.”
Melchior nodded. “You did well in bringing this me.”
Moll’s shoulders slumped in relief. “I was afraid I might be punished for fleeing. But this seemed important.”
Melchior looked her over and then shook his head. “Balthasar alone would be too much for all but the strongest of my forces. A newborn witch would not be able to stand against him. And you are telling me that a new paladin has appeared. No, you made the correct choice.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
He stood and walked from the throne to a nearby window. He stared at the sun, its light cloaked in shadow. Moll watched as Lord Melchior stared out the window.
“Tell Lord Gaspar of this development. The fool will need to be brought up to speed. His spies are not as competent as they should be. This is the beginning of a rebellion. It is a frail thing. But I cannot allow it to survive and grow. I must crush it and stamp it out.”
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