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Knighttime Transition
Donovan
Shoemaker
Age
– 28
Current
Occupation – Lineman at New Deli Meat Packaging Plant
Age
sworn to the Oath of Chivalry – 16
Designation
– Knight-Errant
Weapon
of Choice – Clan McLean Basket-hilt Claymore
“Blue, blue,” Armand spoke quietly
to himself, shifting through the long-sleeve t-shirts. He pulled out a deep blue shirt and held it
up, appraising it. “So, is it, like, a
dark blue or a light blue or what?” He
looked back at Everett
where he was searching through a different rack.
“I don’t know,” Everett said. “I mean, it’s like red with us. We don’t all wear precisely the same color
red. It’s just, you know, a
designation, so that people in the know can have a better time spotting
others.” He turned around, holding a
formal-looking button-up shirt over his chest. “What do you think? Too dressy?”
“Not if you’re going to keep
having that affair with Mrs. Donaldson, the high school principle’s
assistant,” Armand stated. Everett developed a
confused look. He looked at the shirt,
at Armand, the shirt, Armand, then put the shirt back.
After a moment more of searching,
Armand asked “And how do we handle the white part, huh?” He turned back to Everett. “I mean, are we supposed to just start
wearing white pants and jackets and stuff?
That’ll look…”
“Gay,” Sydney announced sourly, joining the two
men. With two clothes bags slung over
her shoulder and sipping from an extra-large food court cup, she stared
sullenly at them both. “I don’t like
this,” she pouted.
“We’ll get used to it,” Everett maintained,
turning back to the clothes racks.
“We’ve all worn red and black for years. Going to new colors is going to be odd, and
it’s going to take some getting used to.
But we’ve got to do it if we’re going to avoid a war.”
“We think,” Sydney griped. She sat down in the small circle of chairs
near Armand and Everett’s
chosen racks, slinging her right leg over the chair’s low arm. “I just don’t like radically renovating my
wardrobe.”
Armand and Everett looked at each
other, then at Sydney. “Yes you do!” Everett disputed.
“When it’s for a new fashion, not
a new color!” she argued back. She
looked at her long blonde hair as it fell over her shoulders. “And I don’t look good in white. Or blue.”
“Yes you will,” Everett said, taking another shirt
out. He held it towards Armand. He held his hand out, flipping it from
thumbs-up to thumbs-down and back. Armand
held out a thumbs-down. “Geez!”
“The official colors are blue and
silver, right?” Armand asked, turning and handing a shirt to Everett.
“Yeah,” he said, holding the shirt
up.
Armand considered it, finally
nodding. “And white replaces silver?”
“In clothes,” Everett
said, draping the shirt over one of the unused chairs next to Sydney, adding to a
small pile. He looked to Sydney, about to speak
when he noticed her hovering just a few inches off the seat, supporting
herself in a lotus position with her arms.
“Having fun?”
“I’m hyperactive,” she complained,
not lowering. “I’m normally training
right now.”
“We’ll go spar after this, I
promise,” Everett
said. He patted Sydney on the head. “Promise, honey.”
“I’ll give you a promise,” she
growled.
“Guys!” Everett exclaimed, throwing his hands
out. “What do you want? For us to attack Alan Vick and his knights? For us to instigate open warfare between
knights and potentially spark a nation-wide incident?”
“I think you need to calm down,” Sydney snapped
back. She took a moment to
breathe. “The knights in the US are not
going to go flying into a bloodthirsty frenzy just because two sets of
knights got into a fight.”
“Yeah,” Armand agreed, the calmest
of the three. “I mean, they rolled up
into our town. They’re the ones
starting the trouble, not us.”
“People won’t see it that way, not
with the way Alan’s recruiting and promoting on Knightsnet,” Everett said, going back to the racks. He ran his hand over his short-cropped
hair. “I want to stop this. I don’t want Alan recruiting anymore people. And I think that people are…” He stopped.
“You guys know this stuff. I
don’t need to be telling you.” He
started shifting through the clothes.
“You guys are grown-ups. You
don’t need me telling you what to wear.
Stay in black and red if you want.”
“It’s not about what we want,” Sydney said glumly,
turning to sit on the arm of the chair.
“It’s about what will have the most impact. If you really think, which you do, that
wearing blue and silver or white or whatever, is going to make things better
and keep bad stuff from happening, then okay.
I’m down.” She shook her head,
turning away. “Just don’t expect me to
like it.”
Armand sighed, looking at Everett. He stuffed his hands into his black jeans’
pockets and turned, heading deeper into the mall store. Everett
watched him walk and sighed, going back to the clothes. “It’s not like this is the end of life as
we know it.”
“Yes, Everett,”
Sydney said,
“it is. Life as we know it is black
and red.”
“They’re just clothes,” he
insisted.
Sydney smiled weakly, sympathetically. “Do you really believe that?” Everett’s
heart dropped out of his argument.
“These aren’t clothes,” she said, standing. “These are the uniform of the modern
knight. And while we may still be
knights, we won’t be the same knights.
Not after we give up black and red.”
Everett looked down, breathing out. “We have to make sacrifices.”
“You sacrifice yourself,” Sydney said heavily, “not
your beliefs.”
Everett looked at her, seeing his
reflection in her earnest jade eyes.
“You think I’m sacrificing my beliefs?”
She smiled sympathetically. “I think you’re sacrificing something far
too valuable to you. What that is, I’m
not sure, but are you sure it’s worth sacrificing that part of you, just to
avoid a fight?”
She gathered her bags and
headed after Armand, leaving Everett
standing alone with her words.
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