The Knights of Day

The Knights of Day

                After three months of hard practice, Starla had finally mastered something she 'should probably be able to do'. Instead of dying - temporarily, of course - when she was severely injured, she could trigger it at will. Getting the hang of staying under for the right amounts of time was taking a bit longer.

                It looked like she was already going to have to do it - in protest, rather than necessity. Her cohorts in the loose organisation of Dwayne's family and a handful of others had finally decided on a name for their 'group'. Of all the possibilities, they'd chosen to be 'The Knights of Day'. A bunch were already planning to have symbols of a burning sun tattooed on themselves.

                "Seriously, though," said Starla, for what was at least the twelfth time, "why that?"

                "Because it sounds cool," said Arnold. He was a big man, more often called 'Arnie' or 'Arn' and occasionally the 'Terminator' due to his size being comparable to a particular actor. There was little other resemblance; Arnold was black-haired like most of Dwayne's family. He was Dwayne's second cousin, and served as part of the 'muscle' of the operation.

                "It's more dorky than cool," said Starla. "I mean, we're not real knights no matter what we say. And the day bit - we fight day or night; and kill anything that's a threat. It's not like we're the 'good guys', there aren't 'good guys'. But the name makes it sound like we think we are."

                "Yeah but, we're as close as it gets," said Arnold.

                "I've gotta butt in here," said Mike. He had married into the family, although his husband had been killed a few years ago. The injuries Mike received in the same event left him unable to do much more than admin duty. "The name represents us just fine. We are honourable and we fight to keep others safe. We have taken these as our duty. Thus, knights.

                "As for day: it represents us well. We burn back the darkness, the evil, the wrong. Where we stand monsters will never prosper; horror will be contained. Hope comes to those wrought with despair. Warmth and goodness are akin to us as to the day as well. Thus, 'of Day'."

                "That is the corniest thing I've ever heard," said Starla. "And most of what we do is less 'save people' and more 'kill or capture things that lack intelligence so it's really wildlife control'. Except for the intelligent ones, and being cocksure we're doing the right thing shooting them is incredibly stupid."

                "I think Mike was shooting for what we try to do, rather than the reality of things," said Arnold.

                "Yeah," said Mike. "That. The decision has been made, anyway. No point arguing now."

                "The tatts are really cool, too," said Arnold. "That sun is sick."

                "The tattoos are the worst part! If something with half a brain shares around that we all sport them we can't do any kind of infiltration. Oh, and we could be made out as some kind of whacko cult," said Starla. "That'd go well."

                "I reckon it's alright," said the final loiterer, Alice. "I like the name because it reminds me of a song. And a game!"

                Starla glared at Alice. Alice was nineteen and Dwayne's third cousin. Why everyone insisted on introducing themselves as 'xyz-relation to Dwayne' Starla didn't know. That aside, Alice had the same black hair as most of her family, although she was a small, geeky looking woman. It was deliberate - she was an avid gamer and computer enthusiast who mostly helped the older members of the group with 'computer stuff'. The look didn't really suit her, strangely enough.

                "You're not involved enough to comment," said Starla. Alice was only present because she'd tagged along with her father and brother, who were a lot more involved than she was. She did intend to be in a few years - she was doing a computer science degree with the aim of writing some information collation algorithms to help them identify things of interest.

                Alice stuck her tongue out. It wasn't as cute as she intended - it looked kind of like the start of a seizure. "Oh, such glorious incandescence," she said. Starla was pretty sure she was referencing something. "If only I could be so ... oh, yeah, if only I could be so gloriously incandescent! Praise the sun!"

                "Enough, Alice," said Arnold. "You're getting stupid."

                "Well, complaining about the name is stupid. Who cares what we're called?" asked Alice.

                "I'm the one who's going to have to say 'I'm with the Knights of Day' the most," said Starla. "So I care."

                "Well, I know you wanted to convince us to complain with you," said Mike, "but it looks like we all like the name."

                "Yeah!" said Alice. For an adult, she was often a bit childish. Maybe Starla was wrong about her age? She could be seventeen or sixteen. Still childish.

                "Bleh," said Starla. "Fine. I will protest the only way I know how, since this is killing me."

                "How's that?" asked Arnold.

                "Like this," she said, her eyes rolling up into her head as she suddenly collapsed. Her last thought was, I sure am glad I don't need to feel it when I hit the OW!

                Starla awoke in one of the medical bay beds within the complex. It was a small building - mostly for storing equipment - but a medical bay was needed to handle the weirder injuries (or, more often, to make them look less weird so proper treatment could be sought).

                The rest of the room was empty; the other three beds in the ward unoccupied. It seemed like she'd been unceremoniously dumped in the room. "Is anyone there?" she called out. It couldn't have been that long - someone would have neatened her up if she'd been there a while.

                Arnold came into the room immediately. "So you're back?" he asked.

                "Do I have to answer rhetorical questions? How long was I out?" asked Starla.

                "A few months," said Arnold. "No biggie."

                "Really?" asked Starla. Her tone was sarcastic, rather than shocked. "Couldn't you try something smarter?" She sat herself up on the bed.

                "I'm, uh, I'm not kidding, it's been two months," said Arnold.

                "You've got bloody pimples right where you were picking them, so it hasn't even been half a day," said Starla. "It's gross when you pick them, by the way."

                Arnold brought one hand up to the most noticeable example, and sighed. "Oh well. I didn't think you'd fall for it," he said. "It's been about fifteen minutes. Alice!"

                Alice came through the ward's entry. "Did it work?" she asked.

                "No," said Arnold, "she saw right through it."

                "Poot," said Alice. "Well, it's what you get for trying to spook us, show-off."

                "The name is that terrible," said Starla.

                "It'll grow on you," said Arnold. "It could be worse."

                "It could be," said Starla, "but it's still killing me."

                "Not aga-" was all Starla caught before she was gone once again. Oddly enough, she was never quite sure who had said it.