“Squire Aberra, you are to report to the Order of the Black Lamp at Lamplight Abbey. Your duties to the Iron Bar are to be postponed for the time being and will be passed off to somebody else.”
She had blinked at this.
Muse Aberra was a young half-orc woman of twenty-three. At the age of ten she had joined the Heraldic School of Sword and Sorcery, and at the age of eighteen she had graduated with high marks in both.
She had high expectations for herself when she applied to the knightly orders, and was beside herself with glee when it turned out not only did the Order of the Iron Bar accept her - she was even eligible to contract with one of the 27 Divinities!
And so her career began, and basically ended.
The Six Orders of Greater Goethia consisted of the following: the Order of the Waving Flag, the Order of the Golden Lion, the Order of the White Hand, the Order of the Blue Cliff, the Order of the Occulted Moon, and the Order of the Iron Bar.
The Waving Flags were the most famous, for they were the standing army and in charge of magical beast subjugation. Foreign enemies were the threat, whether they were approaching armies or baleful beasts. If you were to peek into the fantasy of a child who said they wanted to be a knight, you would undoubtedly find the insignia of the Flags emblazoned across the pauldrons of the illusion in question.
The Golden Lions came up second. Bodyguards in all but name, they were constantly seen defending the most important personnel of the kingdom and posted in the most famous locations. It was said that since their formation a century ago, the average lifespan of royalty and top nobles had risen about twenty years. A gate that found itself guarded by their golden shields could not be breached.
The White Hands were perhaps the most casual of the knightly orders - they hardly ever put on their armour, except in ritualistic ceremonies. That was not to say their role wasn’t important, in fact they were probably more important to the daily lives of the citizens than any other knightly order. They were civil security, and in charge of investigating and arresting criminals in the name of the king’s courts. A Handknight in the right place meant that citizens could breathe easy, or so they say.
The Blue Cliffs were to the sea what the Waving Flags were to the land. They guarded the trading routes of the sea with ferocity on their wyverns, and made sure that no leviathans nor giant squids dared approach the coastlines. Their domain consisted of both the sea and the sky, and so their insignia was a mere line that represented the divide between the two at the horizon.
The Occulted Moons were the most mysterious, for nobody knew quite what it was they did. Their existence was well-known, but if you were to search for a Moonknight anywhere, you would find none. They never showed up to public parades, despite a place always being left open for them. And so, rumours and hearsay made legends of them, for the absence of truth left gaps that only stories could fill.
And then that left her order, the Iron Bars. In charge of border patrols, surveying the land, and bandit extermination, the Iron Bars tended to be the furthest from civilization at all times.
Which was her problem.
For it turned out that upon successfully contracting with Aerachnid, the Windmother, she had been railroaded into the position of outrider within the Iron Bars. Having access to the divine speed that the Windmother meant that she was sent out further than her peers, to remote and desolate locales to survey what others could not.
There were no opportunities for advancement! She had been stuck in the position of squire for five years, passed up for opportunities because people were forgetting about her! It wasn’t her fault she was never around to make an impression!
Even two months ago, when the rest of the order was out exterminating the Red Riders of Ermire, she was off in some other misbegotten province surveying the land as usual. Since then she had been considering a change in careers.
And so her confusion was twofold.
“Order of the Black Lamp?”
That wasn’t a knightly order she was aware of.
“That’s what they told me,” said the senior knight. “No idea what’s going on - the orders came from above. Apparently whoever made these arrangements asked for you personally.”
“Me?”
Was this her chance?
[?????]
Cain gulped as he approached.
It was dark now, and he could see torches illuminating the village. Night watchmen patrolling the grounds, he thought.
A giant gate greeted him as he came closer, attached to a massive wooden fence that surrounded the place. It looked almost more like a fort than a village. What were they so afraid of, wondered Cain.
He rubbed his chest as his steps continued to take him closer. He may not have been hungry, but that didn’t mean his stomach was settled.
Oh God, this was a bad idea. Even though his memories were still all over the place, he knew for a fact now that this wasn’t Earth. Did these people even speak English?
What if they saw him and thought he was some kind of witch? His eyes certainly looked horrifying enough! Maybe he could pass it off as a medical condition...
He looked at himself. A jacket, a shirt, jeans, boots. After his head had cleared, he had searched around in his pockets. Nothing except lint.
All of his clothing certainly looked out of place. The village nightmen in the distance wore clothing of much simpler materials. He thought he saw wool and linen. Nothing like the synthetic materials in his jacket.
Bracing himself (he had come too far now), he cleared his throat.
“H-Hello?”
Moments later he found himself staring at the tip of a sword carried by a man who was clearly scared out of his mind. He winced at the high-pitched screeching.
Maaaaybe he at least should’ve waited until morning.
Good news, though! They did speak English.
The Silver Seat was the capital of Greater Goethia, and where all the headquarters of the knightly orders were stationed. A vast, metropolitan city large enough to be divided into districts, it was at the forefront of culture, politics, and technology. The infrastructure here alone was at least twenty years ahead of its peers, the capitals of the other great nations on the continent.
A beautiful, dazzling place. The marble buildings, the paved roads. The sheer size of the place was always enough to blow away a visitor, whether they were from the provinces or further away. The envy of all!
“This is a mistake, right?”
Muse stared up at the dilapidated building. The word abbey was really overselling it. It was a two story building that looked like it really needed some help; vines had already spread across half its surfaces. They looked like they were choking the place to death.
A memory of her childhood came to mind. There was a condemned house in her neighbourhood that all the children were convinced was haunted. This place gave off the exact same aura.
A little noise of excitement. She turned to look at the source.
A white spider the size of a hand perched on her shoulder, looking gleefully at her. The little creature was surprisingly not hideous for how large it was - all of its limbs were small and stubby instead of lean and mean, and its face had an infantile quality to it due to how large the two main eyes were. It looked more like a cartoon creature than a spider, really.
It raised a stubby leg and poked her face.
She gave it a light noogie. It squeaked in delight.
“Webby, no. You’re not allowed to set up a nest here. Who knows what kind of bugs you’ll catch.”
The spider’s face dropped.
“Squire Muse Aberra?”
A young man with silver hair and silver eyes poked his head out of the main door. Muse could not read the expression on his face. He was a little taller than her, lithe and fit. The clothing of a manservant, though his demeanour spoke to more.
“That’s me! Squire Muse Aberra, reporting for duty.”
“Please follow me.”
And just like that, there was no more conversation. Muse followed him through the halls. His graceful steps illuminated the way for her, and they passed quickly through the great double doors of the entrance.
The inside of the abbey was far better tended than one would expect after seeing the exterior. The place was no palace, but it was clean and well-kept. Nothing as ostentatious as the headquarters of the other orders - even the Iron Barracks that Muse was so used to looked more impressive.
They passed by a few robed figures, and they gave slight bows to them as they passed. Muse could not read their expressions - not through the silver masks they wore, anyway. The man leading her returned their bows with a nod - not just a manservant after all?
At last, they stood in front of a wooden door. Muse looked upward. There was a small lump in her throat. Webby chittered sympathetically.
“The Grandmaster will see you now.”
She passed through the doors. The office was dignified; a little more opulent than the rest of the abbey, but not by much. A brown carpet of good make but nothing gaudy. Large windows littered the walls, slightly covered by curtains and windchimes. It seemed that the Grandmaster of these halls liked a little fresh air.
In front of her, sitting behind a large desk of mahogany wood, was the Grandmaster of the Black Lamp. Her eyes opened in surprise when their gaze cast upon his figure, but she tried to stifle them. She could only hope that the Grandmaster would not take offence.
Green skin two shades darker than her own. Tusks that eclipsed the little fangs that she had.
“Squire Muse Aberra, reporting for duty from the Order of the Iron Bar. Greetings to you, Grandmaster!”
Webby mimicked her kneel from his position on her shoulder.
He waved her greeting off. She relaxed a little.
“Squire Muse Aberra. It is a pleasure,” said the man coolly. “I am Erioch Baal, Grandmaster of the Order of the Black Lamp. I believe this is the first time that you’ve heard of us.”
“Yes, Grandmaster Baal. Forgive me. I am aware of the Six Orders, but other than that knew of no other.”
“Ours is not a large order, and our work is sparse at times. That is not to say it is not important.”
You are reading story Dirty Avatars: An Isekai Gone Wrong at novel35.com
A small silence as the Grandmaster shuffled some papers on his desk.
“The reason I asked for you personally was due to your diligence and excellence in performing your duties as a member of the Iron Bars, as well as your contract with the Windmother. You have the record for the fastest survey time of the Northern Range, from what I see here.”
The Northern Range, an unimaginative name to be sure but the massive mountains were nothing if not majestic. They formed a natural barrier to the north, preventing marauding magical beasts and unfriendly nations from taking up untoward notions.
They were also a pain to survey. She had needed to take it easy for a week after she had made it back last time. She mentally prepared herself for the aftermath.
“An urgent matter has come up,” continued Erioch Baal. “And unfortunately, we were short on personnel. I troubled Lord Wilson personally for his aid. That is when you were brought to my attention.”
Lord Kayde Wilson was the Grandmaster of the Iron Bars. She had seen him only a few times, and never up close. The Order of the Black Lamp had that much influence?
“My lord!”
“I have had my own outriders go to nine of the Ten Provinces already. You are to go to the last one - Ermire Province to the north. Your task is not to survey the land nor eliminate banditry. You are to bring me information regarding a certain topic.”
He flipped through a few more papers.
“This would be far easier if you were a Lampknight. Unfortunately, because you are only temporarily assisting us we are unable to divulge much more.”
He saw the quizzical gleam in her eye, and answered her unspoken question.
“It is, simply put, not up to me.”
Muse’s eyes widened. An order from beyond a Grandmaster’s position? Perhaps the Order of the Black Lamp was a step below... No, that wasn’t right. Lord Baal was able to personally ask Lord Wilson for a favour. That implied they were on the same level.
Her throat was dry.
State secrets.
“What information am I to gather, sir?”
Lord Baal’s tusks twitched.
“Black eyes. Look for information - any information, on anybody seen with black where the whites of their eyes should be. Report back with anything you hear - that is to say, you are not required to confirm their veracity. It would be a bonus, but not necessary.”
Muse bowed. Odd, but that was fine. It seemed like an easier job than any other she had done for the Iron Bars. Rumours and hearsay were easier to collect, especially if she didn’t have to waste time divining truth from fiction. Still, she would do her best.
“And one more thing. If you do find somebody possessing the eyes in question; you are not to aggravate them,” said Erioch. “Attempt to limit your contact as much as possible until you receive further instructions. Do not, under any circumstances, offend them.”
Erioch’s eyes gleamed.
“Our kingdom doesn’t need another threat to its existence.”
Muse bowed.
Excitement and dread.
It took fifteen minutes for Jord the night watchman to point his sword away from Cain’s face, and it probably wouldn’t have happened at all if Bron the other night watchman hadn’t given him a good smack.
What kind of bandit came alone at night, with no weapon? His eyes were certainly alarming, and they didn’t completely buy his amnesia excuse (even though it was technically true!), but despite all that Bron had sent the other man packing and welcomed Cain into the village.
Seeing that he had nowhere to stay, the man had offered his own home, and that was where Cain was now. Lying on an unfamiliar bed, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling after being given a warm dinner consisting of soup and bread. Once his host had set things up for him, he had returned to his duty, and so now Cain was alone again.
He let out a relieved sigh.
But now he couldn’t sleep.
Sitting up, he looked at his hands and clenched them. No soreness at all in his body, despite walking for an entire day through treacherous mountain terrain. He had no memory of his previous life, but for some reason he felt he wasn’t the hiking type. A gut feeling; an instinctual understanding of his own character.
If anything, his only source of tiredness was emotional, being in an unfamiliar land and surrounded by unfamiliar people.
The dinner was nothing special, but it was nice and warm. He could tell that Bron gave him as good of a welcome as he was likely to get from a commoner man in a small mountain village.
He remembered his reflection. His eyes.
They weren’t his eyes. Just as he knew that he wasn’t the hiking type, he also knew that his eyes were supposed to be like everybody else’s. White sclerae, and brown irises. That was the image he had of himself. So what had happened?
He gently clapped a palm to his forehead. There was nothing to go on. Thinking at the moment wouldn’t help.
And with that clap, that little yellow window once again popped up.
[CAIN THOMPSON]
[STATUS]
It was... a menu. A brief flash in his mind of digital screens and headphones. Games. He knew what those were - he loved games!
He tapped on the [Status] block. There were other options in the window, but they were filled with question marks. Status was the only clear one, and so that was the one he went for. It was no hologram; more like a touchscreen. He could feel resistance in his finger as he pressed down.
[CAIN THOMPSON]
[LEVEL 1]
[EXP - 0/100]
[JOB CLASS: NONE]
[HP 100/100]
[MP 50/50]
[STRENGTH] - 13
[DEXTERITY] - 11
[CONSTITUTION] - 10
[INTELLIGENCE] - 11
[WISDOM] - 13
[SPEED] - 12
[LUCK] - 14
[SYSTEMS ACTIVATED:]
-CONTROL SCHEME-
The rest of his night was filled with questions nobody had the answer to.