Authors Notes: This is previously a play I wrote, but now I'm turning it into a story with more detail. Enjoy.

Knights of Cydonia (Story version)

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Chapter One: Black Underwear Makes a Knight

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The sun descended beyond the horizon as the sky painted itself a beautiful, pale red. Wind soared in and out of the trees as if running from an unexpected attack, billowing crazily against the line of teal tents set up just on the rim of the woods. It was known to be a day of adventure amongst many who inhabited the random band of tents; to others, a day of self discovary.

A young boy in royal red clothing and a long silky cloak stunned the grass into silence as he strode over to the campsite.

The Knights of Cydonia's head quarters, finally, he thought, relieved, and continued his dramatic march onward to his destination. His face was plastered in shadow from the hood he wore, but with a quick swoosh of the wind, it fell back to reveal a a brown clump of curly hair. Now to get this over with.

Marlene Owl sat upright in her chair at the filthy willow-wood desk, ignoring the howling of the air and chill of the night herded the darkness on. She brushed a hand through her longish brown hair, flicking bits of her fringe, that weighted down just over her eyes, out of her face and left two fingers situated around the earpiece of her glasses. Her unoccupied hand tapped at the table, restlessly.

The slender woman was situated in an unwelcoming office shelter, awaiting the arrival of her assistant, whom was known as Catherine. Marlene was, in particular, a highly respected member of the Cydonian Knights, who were a quiet, newly forming organisation bent on helping others. She had gained the title of "Respected Commander"/ Nonetheless, this office was not for the purpose of handing over money or listening to psychological problems in troubling situation. This was a check point for recruitments for a Cydonian Knight quest, which Marlene herself had devised, upon certain news.

At that point, the front door of the cover flew open and with a gust of wind exploding through the opening, which caused Marlene's papers into the air in a mess, Catherine appeared. Her face was red from the frost and her straw-like, blonde hair was suspectedly wind-swept.

"Close the tent, quick!" Marlene cried, jumping insanely about in hope of catching some of the documents that were swirling around like pigeons in the air. "Zip it up!"

The assistant obeyed.

There was an awkward silence as the brown haired woman collected her papers and settled down, brushing her grey trousers down and pulling the sleeves of her jumper up to her elbows. Adjusting her thick black glasses, she looked towards Catherine in question.

"Tadpole, I need to speak to the final trainee if I'm to make a solid decision," Marlene began.

Catherine's expression dropped in slight disgust. "But we need to set off on the journey before tomorrow!" There was a definite sign of resentment in her voice as her eyes studied the commanding knight.

Marlene looked up to the ceiling in thought and muttered:"Then find him and bring him here, before we do get behind schedule."

Without a word, Catherine swung around impatiently and walked out of the tent door, zipping it up after another flurry of papers covered the floor. Teal walls stared back at her as if to tell her 'typical girls' and roll their eyes after the hasty Catherine.

Marlene smiled to herself , poking at the tear in one of her trouser knees fidgettingly.

"Ah, the greatest journey of Cydonia - to find the knowledge all humans crave... And then... ONLY then will I stop talking to myself—!"

The icy air shot at her pale face once again as the entrance of Catherine and a young boy in a long, luxurious cloak were introduced to her. The boys cloak swept the floor of the tent, forming a clear path from the door to the desk. He was notably tall and as he looked up a thin face with clear cheekbones and messy curly hair was viewable.

He glanced from Catherine's impatient features to Marlene's surprised expression and nodded inwardly.

"Uh... Is this the boy?" Marlene enquired, her eyes skipping from the two.

"Yes, his name is Jon Cow. I found him just outside," Catherine glared playfully down at Jon and he gave a shining smile back. "He's royalty."

The boy, Jon, advanced in a heavy footed manner, his curly, brown hair shivering on his shoulders as he halted before the commander's desk. He extended a hand and Marlene shook it as he bowed and muttered: "Miss Owl. How do you do?"

"Gentleman, I see," Marlene replied, looking rather impressed. She began shifting her feet. "Fine, yourself?"

"Nervous, honestly." Jon rubbed his hands together, smiling... nervously.

Catherine stepped into the scene further, patting the boys shoulder encouragingly. "He's next in line to the throne; the heir."

The brown haired woman ceased her shifting of the feet and leant her head to the side. She exhaled "You two seem to know each other really well..."

"Oh!" Jon stammered and beamed. "Yeah, we go way back."

"Very far back..." Catherine added.

"Well, are we going to begin the interview then?"

"Of course, Tadpole - can you retrieve a list of the belongings Jon brought?"

Catherine nodded, and without further ado, the assistant exited, leaving a wind-struck pile of papers sprawled across the clothy flooring.

"I really need to do something about that," Marlene said, rolling her eyes. She turned back to Jon, ushering him to sit down at the provided chair and he obeyed. The interview began with a quick throw of words, such as "Why do you think you deserve to be a Cydonian Knight?" and "What ways do you think we could improve our enforcement?" and "How experienced are you in the art of Knighthood?" But everytime, the young boy seemed to have a clear answer for them. Time ticked indecisively and unbeknownst to the both of them, Catherine was eavesdropping from outside, intently. It was easy to tell that the commanding knight was worried by her constant fidgeting, but then something arose.

"Do you know about Catherine's skill?" Jon enquired on the double to her question about skills.

"That depends; what skill?" She blinked.

"Well... it's a secret, really." Jon nodded firmly. "If you don't know from that then I won't expect Catherine to have told you, but nonetheless, there's the information. Want to continue the interview? I shouldn't really be saying this anyway."

"Hmm, wait," Marlene interrupted his ramblings. "Psychic powers, correct? She saw the mission secrets."

Jon nodded slowly, his expression dropping. "She never told me about that..."

"Well I told her to keep it quiet for now," Marlene replied, smiling reassuringly.

The wind from outside billowed immensely, making the tent shake and stir uncontrollably. The two of them looked up in caution, watching carefully for just in case the ceiling collapsed on them. A rush of cold air escaped the raging war of the exterior and sent a shiver down their spines, leaving an apprehensive atmosphere between them. But within two seconds of trying to get back to the task at hand, it seemed like a tsunami of air pounded against the shelter and forced the tent to collapse inward. Without hesitation, Jon rose from the seat and held the mound of cloth upright until the army of air drew back and then reseated himself. Almost straight after, Catherine toppled through the front flap, quickly zipping it up again as she gasped for breath.

"Is the interview over?" She asked in a hopeful manner. "Here is the list of belongings you asked for, Owl."

Catherine strode up to the bureau and handed a piece of paper to the Respected Commanding Knight. She took it and nodded her thanks, reading it through as a suspenseful, awkward silence covered the room. Hmming, Marlene looked up from her glasses directly into his eyes and uttered: "Just one last question."

"Anything..." He sighed, staring back.

Catherine crossed her fingers and even her toes. If she doesn't let Jon join I won't accompany her in the quest. Fifty other trainees signed up for this and I know for sure he's the best of the lot. He just needs to get over the whole—

"What colour is your underwear, Jon Cow?!"

Catherine slapped a hand to her own forehead and thought... I should've seen that coming...

Blinking, Jon mumbled his answer: "Er... Black?"

"Perfect! He's on the team!" Marlene sprung from her seat, clearly ready to scream from boredom. "Catherine - Jon says he can't ride horses very well; I want you training him endlessly until midnight." She adjusted her glasses and smirked. "Whatever you do after then is your own business."

Ignoring the latter sentence, Catherine clasped her hands together and congratulated her friend. "I'll start training him now, Marly." She nodded simply.

"Good, now go! I need to attend to a glass of ale!"

"Right away." Jon chuckled, and with no further ado, the royal boy and his knightly friend were gone, with a lingering, desperate Marlene looking for her mug.

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End