Hai! If my characterization is a little off, I'm sorry. I'm not used to writing for these characters. It might take me a little bit to get used to their unique voices and personalities. Even so, I hope you have fun reading my story. I'm so happy to be getting nice reviews on it :3
Two days later
Middle Zealand required the longest clean up process in the aftermath of TAKOS Tuesday. The main reason for this, of course, was the lack of technology for quickly correcting all the damage done by Lord Business's attack with the Kragle. Large parts of the landscape had to be reassembled after they had been torn apart by Micromanagers. Emmet pitched in to help, always eager to take on an opportunity to use his new Master Builder powers. With his combined skills of Special and Master Builder, and with the support of his friends, he could make the medieval world of Middle Zealand even better than before.
And he did. The new castle was bigger, better, and (most importantly) more awesome than ever before. He brought updated styles to the outlying guard towers and the commoners' towns. He met the factions of Lion's Knights, Black Falcons, Wolf Pack, Fright Knights, and Forestmen, learning their unique building styles along the way. That was one of his early lessons in a Master Builder – to let others inspire him. Imagination was meant to be shared. Vitruvius would be proud.
Just before he planned on leaving to rebuild the the world, however, Middle Zealand made an offer to him he couldn't turn down. They invited him to a fantastic banquet held in his honor at the newly-renovated castle. How could he say no to a party?
"I can't thank you enough for all your help," King Dominic told Emmet as he led him and his friends into the great hall of the newly-rebuilt castle. "It is even more fantastic than its predecessor. The whole realm owes you very much gratitude."
"It's the least I can do, Mr. King!" Emmet said.
"Look! Look, look, look!" Unikitty squealed, pointing her paw at a particular painting in the great hall. "He even added the rainbow painting. It was my idea. I asked him to put it in."
"I asked for a spaceship painting," Benny said, dejected. "But Emmet told me no, that it wouldn't fit with the rest."
"Aww, it's okay, Benny," Unikitty assured him. "Maybe you can build us an awesome spaceship to fly us home after this."
That cheered him up quite quickly. He said "yay!" and did a little bouncy dance right there and then.
"Wow, Emmet. I'm really impressed." Lucy glanced up at the architecture of the castle. "Seriously. Super amazed at this. You've gotten so good building."
It was true. Graceful gray walls rose up high around them, reaching up to the beveled ceiling. Arches and lion carvings abounded. It boasted accents in navy blue and pearl gold. The floor was decorated in yellow designs as an homage to the earliest Castle builds. It was a space built quite literally for a king.
And today, it was set up for a party! Three banquet tables ran the length of the great hall, covered by crisp white tablecloths and surrounded by elegant high-backed chairs. Candles burned as centerpieces, adding to the ambiance. At the front of the great hall, there was a stage with a little trellis arching over it, and upon that stage stood a small band, tuning their instruments. To practice, they started playing a classical remix of "Everything is Awesome."
"AUGH! Not that song!" Lucy complained.
"Play something else!" Batman begged the cellist and flutist, who ignored him.
"Yeah!" Emmet cheered, oblivious. "It sounds so cool in this style!"
"It's my pleasure," King Dominic said. "Although your friends aren't finding it much of a pleasure, I'm afraid."
Mercifully, the band fell quiet as they finished tuning up. Dominic filled the silence with some long story about the time back in his salad days when he discovered the troll warriors' secret hideout at the Coal Mountains and defeated all the enemies by himself, truly earning his reputation as Middle Zealand's bravest king. It may or may not have been true. He sometimes exaggerated the stories of his salad days...
"Speaking of salad!" he said, catching himself, "I need to check on the kitchen preparations. It's not just you all whom we are serving. I invited the whole kingdom."
"Oh, wow!" said several people, including Emmet.
"Here." He pushed a piece of paper towards Emmet. "Write down what drinks you want. That is what we will be serving from the start, followed by a first course of a soup and salad. After that comes the appetizers and then the first entree..."
His voice faded as he disappeared into the depths of his castle off the right side of the great hall. Emmet and his friends looked at each other.
"Seems like a good guy. This should be cool."
The orc warlord came running into Reaper's cave in a precious hurry.
"The Special is here!" Dagohir declared, stumbling into the rocky recesses of the hideout.
"I know," Reaper replied, unfazed. "I heard the news."
The skeleton was looking intently at a few bottles of colorful liquids and sparkly powders set in front of his cauldron. A small amount of hot water simmered in the pot. He was making a potion.
"This could be either your big chance or a horrible turn of events for you," Dagohir went on.
"I know that, too." Reaper uncorked a bottle of red liquid and poured it in the cauldron. "To make sure it's the former and not the latter, I have a plan."
"Do you always have a plan or something?"
Reaper didn't answer. Instead, he pulled the lid off a jar of sparkling blue powder, grabbed a fistful of the stuff, and dropped it in the cauldron.
The troll warrior took a step closer. "What are you making?"
"I'll explain it in a minute. I have to make some modifications before this potion is ready." Reaper looked at some notes written on a piece of paper, then at his cauldron, and then grabbed a heart-shaped bottle of pink liquid. When he uncorked it, a powerful odor of strawberries and fresh flowers attacked Dagohir's senses.
"Eww!" the orc (who hated pretty, sweet things) remarked. "What is that?"
"A little bit of love," Reaper said with a wink. "It might help my case."
"You're making no sense...at all. I wish you'd just say things straight."
"But that doesn't make for very memorable quotes, now does it?" Reaper stirred his potion, then scooped up a bottleful of it into an empty flask. He set it on a table to cool.
"So, are you going to tell me what your plan is for dealing with the Special's presence in Middle Zealand?"
"I suppose it's better to tell you now than to wait to give my villainous monologue. Whenever villains monologue, it tends to backfire on them. Anyway. To preface, look at me. I'm a skeleton, and thus obviously a bad guy. Have you ever seen a theme where the skeletons were the good guys?"
Dagohir shook his head.
"Exactly my point. I'll never sneak into Dominic's castle looking like this. That's where this potion comes in. It will change my appearance. I paid a pretty penny for the original potion, but I had to modify it for my purposes. I added diamond dust to make its effects permanent, and the dash of love potion will give me a charisma boost."
"But what does that have to do with Emmet?"
"I need to sneak into the castle to get the ingredients for my next potion," Reaper explained. "Which is, of course, the next part of my plan, as I'll be using it on Emmet. I'll never be successful in assembling the Master Destroyers, much less winning the war for once, with that annoying protagonist on my back. So, I figured, why not bring him over to my side?"
Dagohir's troll warrior brain struggled to connect the dots of Reaper's plan at first, but when he did, a wicked smile crept across his face. He liked that idea.
"My, my. You've got all of Middle Zealand wrapped around your bony little finger. So. Let's see what that pretty potion of yours does, now."
"All right, as you wish. It should be cooled properly by now." Reaper picked up the potion. "Cheers?"
The orc shrugged. "Cheers, I guess."
Rather than drink the potion, however, the skeleton threw back his hood and doused himself in the bottle's contents. It washed over him in a creepy red cascade. He let out a pleasured sigh before tossing the empty bottle aside.
"Uh...What's that supposed to do?" Dagohir had taken two steps backwards.
Reaper didn't even need to say anything; the effects of the brew explained it all. Before the orc's startled eyes, his form very literally fleshed out. Organs grew in his rib cage, lean muscles grew over his bones, and a cover of pallid skin formed over it all. He grew a head full of shiny, chestnut-colored hair and the magic provided him with clothes – a brown jacket and black trousers. He looked really quite handsome. "Charisma boost" indeed.
"What do you think?" he asked Dagohir, who still stood there staring. Hearing Reaper's voice come out of a human body was a little jarring.
"Uh...Well, that worked. Sorry. That's gonna take some getting used to. So what are you going to do with that human disguise?"
"Infiltration. It's all in the looks when it comes to Middle Zealand. Everything's formulaic. Pretty equals good. Ugly and strange equals evil. Would you expect someone looking like this to be the bad guy?"
"Not in this world, no."
"And there you have it. They won't suspect a thing until it's too late. Now, I hear our old friend Dominic is hosting a party for the Special tonight. Just the perfect time to enact the next part of my scheme. I'll sneak into the castle, find an opportunity, and work my magic on the Special. It will be great. Oh, I almost forgot."
He poured the dregs of the potion over his skeleton horse, which chewed on bones in the corner of the room. With a less dramatic, but still complete, transformation, it turned into a dashing brown stallion. He swung up onto its back and got ready to ride off.
"Make sure your army stays trained," was Reaper's parting instruction, before spurring his horse and riding off. "War might be on the horizon."
It was nearing night-time when Reaper approached Dominic's castle. The stone structure was even bigger and stronger than before, looking brave and virtuous. Vibrant banners in gold and blue hung from the walls and battlements. Gold light leaked from the windows. He could sense the joy and merriment radiating from it. It made him sick.
"Celebrate while you still can, Dominic," Reaper muttered, dismounting his horse and leading it by the reins. Among the peasantfolk heading towards the castle to join in on the party, he was undetectable. He had to resist the urge to let out a gleeful laugh at how well this was working. While the others around him chattered and giggled, he reviewed his scheme in his mind. He'd sneak into the party as a common guest, keep the spell components hidden away in his pockets, approach Emmet, cast the spell, and make his getaway in the ensuing chaos. A straightforward plot, although the escape part might be a bit harrowing.
The crowd drew closer to the anteroom at the forefront of the castle. It was newly equipped with turrets to ward off invaders, Reaper noticed, as well as a heavy portcullis to drop on any unwanted "guests." He had to admit that this new castle was quite an edifice. Though he had not seen this Emmet character deemed the Special, the fellow certainly had skill. Reaper hoped he could make use of that skill.
At the doors stood a small company of knights, wearing light armor and toting halberds. They watched the people entering the castle, making sure that there were no crooks or spooks hiding among the common folk. How incompetent of them, Reaper thought. He slipped right past them without arousing a hint of suspicion. How would he cause any concern when he looked like any random citizen off the street? Inwardly, he gloated at his cleverness.
After making it through the gatekeepers, Reaper found himself dumped into a courtyard with the other guests. Lanterns kept the space well-lit, and vendors stood around to offer food and drinks to the attendees. He accepted a cup of water from a vendor and dodged away from the glut of the crowd, backing up towards a stone wall to his left. He sipped his drink, shuddered at the sensation of the cold water trickling down his now-human throat, and observed the crowds. The massive, iron-reinforced wooden doors of the actual castle were still shut.
"That's curious," Reaper muttered, twirling his horse's lead rope in his hand idly. "You would think they would have everything ready by now."
Just then, a group of kitchen maids exploded out of a door right next to him. A din of banging pots and hissing ovens floated out of the room they'd just fled, as well as the smell of food burning.
"We don't have everything ready by now!" the maids fretted. "Too many demands, and not enough people to help."
"What's that?" Reaper whispered to his horse, who nickered a "I don't know" sort of noise in response.
"See if you can talk any of the guests here into helping," one maid advised the other.
"Ridiculous!" she responded. "No-one here is going to work instead of attend the banquet. Have you got mashed potatoes in your skull instead of brains?"
"Is something wrong, ladies?" Reaper asked.
"Yes, there is. We're stretched a bit thin on the banquet preparations. We don't have enough people for the job."
Reaper, being the clever little chessmaster that he was, hatched an idea and changed his plans slightly. "I think I might be able to help. I know my way around a kitchen."
"Great!" Without any other questions, the maids grabbed him by the arms and yanked him inside the kitchen. Instantly he was surrounded by blazing ovens, steaming pans, and shouting servants.
"I need more carrots over here, NOW!"
"Salad and dressings have to be out in ten minutes!"
"What the brick is a pizza doing in a Middle Zealand kitchen?"
"Who was in charge of baking the croissants? They're all burned!"
"THE DRINKS! YOU CAN'T FORGET THE DRINKS!"
"Who the brick is in charge of the bricking drinks?"
"Calm down, and watch your language," a maid scolded the guy yelling about the drinks; then she abruptly pointed at Reaper. "He can take care of those."
"Me?" He feigned surprise, but this was exactly what he wanted.
"Yes, you. What's your name?"
"Err..." He tried to think of the blandest name possible. "Joseph. I'm Joseph."
"All right, Joseph." The servant dragged him over to a table in the back of the kitchen. It was strewn with glasses, pitchers, and water jugs. "Dominic wants to serve some delicious berry juice to his guests. Don't skimp on what you pour out for Emmet and his friends...But try not to top it off, either. That does not turn out well, I have learned."
He went back to his own business after that, and Reaper turned his back on the rest of the kitchen. He smirked to himself and chuckled as he looked at the five goblets laid out for Dominic's most valued guests. They were labeled with their names – "Emmet," "Lucy," "Benny," "Batman," and "Unikitty." A slip of paper listed each person's favorite beverage: Emmet liked grape juice, Lucy preferred orange, Benny wanted apple, Batman had no preference, and Unikitty wanted something called 'blue razzleberry,' whatever that was.
"Alone with the stuff that's about to be served to the Special," Reaper whispered to himself as he slid the velvet pouch of magic components from his back pocket. "You can always count on castle staff to be laughably stupid."
He slid the components out of the pouch: coal dust to make the heart dark, tin poweder to increase the potion's strength, a dead spider for vileness, and a dragon scale with Reaper's name etched on it to determine where Emmet's new loyalties would lie. He poured the dark purple liquid into the glass marked "Emmet," then swirled in his potion ingredients. He whispered a spell to make them dissolve, then finished his work with a pinch of sand from an hourglass, which would time-delay the potion's effects.
"Change of plans," he mumbled as he poured the drinks for Emmet's friends. "This way, I don't have to make a harrowing escape. But by tomorrow, things will be very different—Uhp!"
"Thank you, Joseph!" A maid swept the tray of goblets out from in front of Reaper, then carried them into the great hall. "Come on out with me, and we'll get to see this banquet kick off. By Ole Kirk Christiansen's beard, this shall be a feast to be remembered!"
"All right!" Reaper said cheerily as he followed her out of the kitchen and into the Great Hall. But inside, he cackled in wicked glee.
Feast to be remembered, indeed.