WARNING: Unsettling depiction(s) of bodily harm/abuse, heavy language & swearing, and ideologically sensitive subjects ahead.

CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Mon Coryphée

Book II, Ton Sourire

"Épisode VIII"

It was a brand-new Friday for Wilhelmshaven Academy students. Although Lady Winter folded her hand to the Vernal Equinox, she occasionally huffed a bittersweet "Humph!" at the school's façade. Inside, school uniforms shrank to tolerable lengths: The boys' uniforms stayed gentlemanly while Lady Spring's fickle rains kept the pant cuffs high. The girls' uniforms did the same, with or without the knee-length dresses. Pretty umbrellas twirled, even though there was no sign of rain.

It was Amy Rose who led Sally and Elise toward the Academy grounds. "It's going to rain today~, rain today~, rain today~! It's going to rain today, later on today~!" The pink hedgehog skipped merrily with her Valentine's Day-esque umbrella. Wilhelmshaven's Solemn Prima, Salina Acorn, stayed dedicated to an haute-couture china-blue parasol, almost straight out of the Victorian era; the school's Consecrated Prima, Elise the Dormouse, seemed to prefer a saffron version of it.

"One has to wonder," Elise began in a slightly suspicious tone, "how in the world did the President and his Vice-President win the Prom coronation if they never ran?"

Salina kept her nose out of it, but the urge to gossip had begun to swell.

"Maybe…it was the Secretary who rigged it."

"Really?" Amy's eyes were sparkling—the first time, ever, that she'd find herself admiring the Secretary. "You really think so?"

"Who else could have that much influence over the Prom's turnout? She is a lover at heart, and she loves the notion of being in love, so it had her handprints all over it!" Elise pulled Amy's ear closer to her whispering lips. "I've been hearing rumors that Secretary Rouge rigged the results as a game-changing surprise. From the sound of it, she asked the original winners to transfer their votes over to the winners of their choice."

Salina nodded in the background.

Amy blushed a little. "Wait, so if the actual winners handed their win over to the couple of their choice…that means they chose Sonic and Shadow to win…!"

"Thus, naming the President and Vice-President the winners," Salina concluded with a sly look on her face. "Of course, Rouge had to convince them that they'd win,"—Nod, nod—"so she picked another well-known couple, that wasn't interested in the coronation, to begin with"—Nod, nod—"and asked them to run in Sonic and Shadow's stead. It sounds like the only way it could've possibly worked." Then, a final defining nod.

Salina made the other girls' inner gears crank. Had she been the one who gave Rouge the idea in the first place? It made the girls theorize, but they ended up applauding her for such a well-thought out conclusion.

Wilhelmshaven's Prima Ballerina, Blaze the Cat—on the other hand—was giving too much power to the irritation she had for the chattering trio. "Since when was she a friend to them?" It was enough to make her clench her teeth, as well as her Romantic-red parasol's handle. Her boots clacked across the pavement, around the main fountain, towards the grand oak doors. Over them, a golden plaque announced "Wilhelmshaven Academic Building" in a decorative engraving.

"Alright. Good morning, Council."

"Good morning," came a unison return, featuring various inflections and temperaments.

Archivist Miles Prower sounded cheerful despite the gloom-stricken morning. His uniform stayed crisp and clean, and his smile was for all the Senior-class councilmen. "It's time for roll call," the boy-Freshman said over a chuckle. "Archivist Miles 'Tails' Prower, present!"

Rouge winked, blowing a kiss at no one in particular. "Madam Secretary Rouge the Bat, present~!"

Wave placed a hand over her heart and bowed lightly. "Treasurer Wave the Swallow, present."

Sonic held up a peace sign and grinned. "Vice-President Sonic the Hedgehog, here!"

And, last but not least, Shadow held his countenance over crossed arms. "Council President Shadow the Hedgehog, present."

"Okay! We're all here and accounted for! Let's have a good sit-down, everyone!" Miles clapped gently with a big smile. Then, he took up a small wooden gavel. In an official-sounding voice, he declared, "This meeting may now commence."

Clap, clap!

There, around the rich cherry table, the Student Council had convened much like the Arthurian Knights of the Round Table; albeit, the academic heirloom had a more oblong shape than a perfectly circular one. Wave came fully prepared with documentation, folders, and a couple Composition notebooks brimming with dates and records. With so many things to keep track of, Rouge and Miles were deeply mystified by Wave's organizational techniques. Just how she kept everything in complete control was almost akin to a millennium-old family secret.

Shadow glanced at her. "Do you have the complete compilation of financial statements regarding this year's Prom?"

"Yes, I do. Right here." She whipped out a few sheets after a quick lap to her thumb. "I was able to invoice all of the materials and services into a 3-page summary. Everything from food to transportation tallied up to $247,000…All expenses have been paid for in full, Mr. President."

"Good," came Shadow's reply, "which means we stayed within the budget, with some change to spare."

"Awesome! We could throw a little grads party with that money," Sonic threw in a little too enthusiastically.

"Nonsense," Shadow snapped softly. "We need to save every bit. There's no guarantee that our sponsors will be inclined to donate after…such a lackluster performance at the Winter Showcase."

Contemplative silence permeated the room. Rouge lowered her gaze. Wave folded her hands together, while Miles let out an awkward chuckle.

A sweat drop rolled down Sonic's temple. "Don't beat yourself up too much, Babe…" he retorted, sounding as uncomfortable as the drop of sweat.

As if to ignore him, Shadow shot another glance at Wave. A steelier glare, in fact. "Has any word come back from the Bursar's office regarding the Termination Notice?"

"Yes, sir." Opening one of the many folders the lady-swallow announced some changes in the school's fiscal standing. "Mr. President, according to the latest word received by the Academy's Administrative Bursar, it sounds like nearly all afterschool activities have been terminated by the Chief Executive Board—namely Principal Wilhelm, himself. These numerous cancellations have put a strain on various club groups, such as Espio's Sewing Club and Shade's Drum Corps. It seems to be directly affecting the sports teams, as well…" She placed her chin atop her hand, crossing her legs. "By the looks of it, the Wilhelmshaven Academy Drum Corps has suffered greatly, simply due to its newness and lack of outside support…and was the first of many clubs to be terminated."

A sadness permeated the room.

"…Has someone informed Shade yet?" Miles had to ask.

Wave nodded in affirmation. "Though it was not anyone within the student body. I believe the athletic coach managing it told her. Her reaction…was less than accepting, I'm sure."

"She must be heartbroken," Miles said with downcast eyes. His twin tails whirled nervously. "It was something she poured her heart and pride into. I thought having our own drum line was really cool…."

"At some point, Knuckles wanted to join," Sonic threw in, hiding the disappointment in his tone. "He couldn't because Shade thought he wasn't trying hard enough. Man, that girl…She's as tough as nails. I feel bad for her."

"Her loyalty to this institution is unmatched within our own class, let alone in the entire student body," Shadow stated matter-of-factly. "Now that the powers that be have desecrated her pride, I'm certain that she and the other club managers have started questioning a lot of things…myself, included." Shadow's eyes steeled themselves with empathy and worry.

"Just who is really pulling the strings here…and what are their real intentions?"

Guild Founder Merlot Vermilion was pressed for time. With three consecutive board meetings back-to-back, he was certain that his weekend would be jam-packed. Nonetheless, he tidied himself up for the day—sharply dressed in one of his finest three-piece suits, executive's shoes, and a ritzy Macfarlane coat. He chose white for the day; it was rather daring, since a downpour was due at any moment. He and Clarence were set to depart after passing a few instructions down to the terrier's female counterpart.

A woodsy squirrel with a lean build herself, she was the housemaid that assisted Shadow during his baths.

With that, the front door opened and a white umbrella unfolded. Dutifully, Clarence touted it over his master's head. He and Merlot weren't to return until Sunday afternoon, so Clarence passed his jurisdiction to the lead housemaid till then. Phone messages were to be taken by hand. Urgent calls were to be directed to his cell phone, hence the number he left with her. Common housekeeping tasks were to be completed as usual.

And the "houseguests" were to be monitored strictly.

Such instructions left a bittersweet taste in Clarence's mouth, but he trusted his counterpart with all his might. The lady-squirrel and her coworkers bowed farewell to their master. The door closed quite coldly to them.

Rain came down in a rush soon after.

"If everyone's got a problem with the decision, shouldn't we try to veto it?" Sonic piped up, sounding half-irritated and half-heroic. "I mean, we're the strongest students in the school politically, right? We can't just let our tails hang between our legs like whimpering dogs! I say we fight back—this is our school, too!"

Shadow's ears perked up to the brave tone in Sonic's voice. He remained composed, however. His reserved glare focused on nothing in particular.

"How can we properly challenge the Administrative Office, then?" Miles's counter shook like his frazzled nerves. "We can't just barge in on a meeting and rattle off demands at them! But…there has to be something we can do. It's in our handbooks, I'm sure of it. But…I don't remember where…!"

"Wilhelmshaven Academy Student Council Command Book, 6th Edition—p. 23, under Sec. IV of 'Student Government,' in paragraph 2."—Pure amazement brimmed in Miles and Rouge's eyes at the fact that Wave found the entry so quickly. "No surprise that she even kept that thing," Sonic chuckled under his remark.—"There, it states that 'a decision made by the Administrative Office may be opposed only by Members holding the highest positions in the Student Government: The President and Vice-President. Both Members must present a strong and valid argument in order to overturn an Office decision with evidence, testimonies, and/or a counter-solution in support of this opposition. An academic hearing may take place, depending on the Office's decision to forward or reject the argument.'" Wave tapped her glasses further onto her bridge. "A clause, here, describes what to do in the event of either Members' inability to attend the hearing…if you'd like me to review it, as well, Mr. President."

"No, that won't be necessary," Shadow declined the offer, showing her a hand. To it, the lady-swallow snapped the small book closed.

"Well, you heard it," Sonic piped up again. "Our handbooks say that we have a chance to overturn their decision if we give them a pretty good reason! What better way to veto a decision…than with a vote?" Shadow listened to his explanation as their fellow Councilmen contemplated: "We need to petition our academic law court. The easiest way to make a valid argument is to get others to vouch for it. Since the termination officially goes into effect next week, we need to get a decent amount of signatures within that time span…" He showed his fellows a daring thumbs-up. "How does 500 signatures in a week sound?"

Shadow snapped his eyes at Sonic.

Wave had to combat it. "Hold on, Mr. Vice-President. It's too short of notice and too little time. Half the number of signatures would barely pass into next Wednesday, let alone next Friday. Conflicting time schedules for every single student makes it all the more difficult, as well. How do you plan to keep track, ensuring that no duplicate signatures are received?"

In spite of the Treasurer's barrages of concerns, Sonic kept his daring smile. "You know, you're making this sound harder than it is, Wave. I wouldn't have put the idea on the table if I didn't have it all planned out."

Each Councilmember possessed a minimally embellished 3-ring binder, each with their titles and names on the front cover, spine, and their graduation year on the bottom-center of the back. While Miles and Rouge's were white, Wave's was purple. The only black binders belonged to the Vice-President and President. Out of Shadow's came a single sheet of paper. He passed it over to Sonic, who in return showed it to his classmates. Upon seeing it, the other members were astonished by the brevity of the document's contents.

It came in the form of a checklist.

Sonic waved it a bit confidently. "Or, should I say, if we didn't. Heh heh!"

Smiles blossomed on the fox and lady-bat's faces. Wave had no choice but to commend the Vice-President for such a foresight. As well as the President's cooperation, notwithstanding such failure-ridden odds. Somehow, Shadow's hand in the idea gave her a new respect and admiration for the hedgehog. She nodded to him, to whom the gesture was silently accepted.

Rouge threw in a quip: "Was this really your idea, Sonic? It looks like Shadow's name stamped all over it, not yours—Tee-hee~!"

"Of course, it was!" Sonic's spines frazzled like an angry cat's fur. "That's Shadow's stamp of approval you see there, dang it!"

Miles waved his hands, as if to wave down both upperclassmen. "Meh heh…At least we have a starting point, right?"

"Indeed, and a fighting chance."

Everyone's eyes locked on to Shadow's. A tone of certainty had entered the President's voice. To an impressive degree. Without moving another muscle, Shadow focused on each member and gave them all the same glare: It exuded confidence and camaraderie.

"Our goal is 500 signatures by the end of next week," he reiterated with a commander's poise. He stood from his seat with a militaristic grace. Like a prince rising from his father's throne. Rubies shined with a bravery Sonic had never seen before. Under his serious brow and over his determined gaze, he boldly declared, "Let's get it done!"

And his fellows cheered, "Yeah!" over Wave's concurring nod.

That following Monday, a "Save Our Souls!" sign had been handcrafted by Wilhelmshaven's Art students from all strata. They'd joined hands and taken up their markers, brushes, and paint to create the vivid sign. Artists had drawn musical instruments, colored in cooking utensils, and added the theatre masks. There to boost morale was none other than Vector the Crocodile and Charmy Bee, who'd taken time out of class to help the cause.

Vector shouted like a food vendor on a hot summer day who hadn't seen a penny in hours. Charmy encouraged the mental image by shaking maracas and dancing to an odd beat. "Save our souls by saving the arts!"—"Step on up, don't be shy!—or you can kiss the arts goodbye!" Mildly alarmed by their display, the students wondered before signing the sheet.

"What is love?" Shadow asked his fellows.

Then came a unison, "Success!"

Amy Rose dragged Elise the Dormouse and Salina Acorn into the Cafeteria to help the Student Council out. They picked up some pompoms and began to cheer, rustling up more and more support from the student body. "Yay!" they squealed, shimmying their pompoms.

"And what is success?"

"Love!"

Teachers herded from the faculty lounge during their break hour to sign the petition, too. From Mrs. Swordshaw to Mr. Deming to Mr. Kingman, a separate sheet had been reserved for the administration. So far, Mr. Kingman's signature was the nineteenth out of 20. Just one more…

"What is what, and which is which?"

"Success is Love, and Love is Success!"

Signature, after signature, after signature…

And just after the final bell, Shadow and the others convened in the Student Council Room to compile their evidence and iron out their argument. A date for the trial was given: Friday—as in tomorrow. Shadow had closed his binder before feeling a hand on his shoulder.

"We've got this, Babe."

Then, another. "Yeah. You put your blood, sweat, and tears into this school." Rouge whined girlishly before giving him a just-as-girlish wink. "It'd be a real travesty if they dismissed this case!"

Wave put a hand on his back, close to Rouge's. "Even if they do, that won't stop our Student Council President, will it?" A sharp tilt of her glasses gave a dubious flicker.

"You bet, it won't!" Sonic grinned.

"Yeah, because we're friends, and we're all in this together!" Tails raised his hand, as if to make a pledge. "No matter how this ends, we're still Wilhelmshaven Academy's Student Council! And we're gonna come back stronger than ever!" He giggled sweetly.

Shadow made no sound or movements. A single tear strolled down his cheek…

"Yea-heah! That's the spirit," Sonic high-fived the fox.

"And on that note, this meeting is hereby adjourned!" Archivist Tails ended the morning meeting with a couple quick gavel claps.

Friday morning had arrived: Wilhelmshaven Academy's Student Council President and Vice-President were on their way to the Administrative Building. An official summons had made it into their dorm's mailbox the day before—an ultimatum, as well as their chance to profess the school's opposition. Dressed in formal attire, Sonic's complete suit was an unusual sight for the other students to witness. Sonic was one to rebel a bit, sporting a loose or absent tie and gym shoes instead of more traditional oxfords. Nonetheless, he held a professional air, albeit a slightly adolescent one. The tie felt like it was suffocating him; his shoes weren't comfortable in the least. He resisted every urge to rip them off with all his might.

But Shadow's aura was the very opposite of his: Just looking at him calmed Sonic down. He wore a reserved glare and said nothing of Sonic's failed attempts at composure. His uniform was also complete, and he didn't seem fazed by the girls' admiring sighs and the boys' brave affirmations.

A single umbrella shielded the Co-Presidents from the downpour. The Administration Building's bronze plaque curled in academic whimsy. Official oak doors welcomed them. Then, their backs disappeared.

Archivist Tails Prower stood in the midst of his seniors with hope in his heart. Anticipative sky-blue eyes moistened. "You can do it, guys. We believe in you."

Secretary Rouge the Bat hesitated to go to class, but was led away by Treasurer Wave the Swallow. The Tetrarch Chorus's Knuckles and Espio stayed until the very last of the seventeen-year-olds' backs had vanished behind those doors. "C'mon. They got this. Let's go to class, a'right?" Knuckles said, putting an arm around the chameleon's shoulders. A silent nod was returned, as Espio walked with the echidna. Hiding his blush.

Clap clap clap!—a very different gavel struck, this time.

"This trial may now come to order."

The courtroom wasn't too ostentatious or intimidating. Matters within the academic administration's authority had always been settled in that room—shy of 100 years. This one was simple, but with an underlying complexity and several students' futures hanging in the balance. Five judges assembled in front of the Co-Presidents. A table and chairs, the school's crest, and the judges' bench separated them.

Sonic and Shadow rose in unison.

"Please raise your right hands."

The female judge's voice was stern, yet kind. But without doubt or delay, both hedgehogs followed her instruction. Without missing a beat.

"Do you both solemnly swear that your testimony will be the whole, solitary truth to the best of your knowledge and ability before this academic justice panel?"

Both boys nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Excellent. Let us proceed."

A male judge spoke up this time. "Let's begin with introductions and this case's description." He flipped through a portfolio folder for a bit before finding what he needed. "This is an internal academic case, a challenge issued by the current Student Council of Wilhelmshaven Academy's high school branch in response to the termination of all extracurricular activities. It has been officially coined, 'Students v. Administration.' We've been provided copies of your academic profiles." He added in a merciful tone, "Your presences here have been recorded as excused absences, so no need to worry." Then, he darted his gaze at Sonic. "First, the young man on my left. State your name."

"Sonic the Hedgehog, your Honor," the blue hedgehog iterated rather stiffly. He'd frozen up at his sudden mention.

"Our records here say the same, as well as your position of Vice-President of the Academy's Student Council."

"Yes, that's correct, sir."

"You've come a long way, Mr. Sonic. Your academic record shows a noticeable change…around Grades 7 and 8, and beyond. If I may, what was the catalyst for it?"

Sonic's back stiffened even more. His spines rose slightly, every hair of undergrowth standing on end. However, there was no shame or embarrassment in his answer: "Well, to be frank…my catalyst was the President, right here next to me."

"Ah, I see. Speaking of whom,"—the same male judge fixed his sights on Shadow, now—"Please state your name, young man."

"My name is Shadow the Hedgehog, your Honor. I am the current President of Wilhelmshaven Academy's Student Council. I am also the only son of the Academy's chief sponsor, Chairman Merlot Vermilion of the Blackswan Thespian Guild."

"Hmm…Our records here say the same."

A string of nervousness wove between each judges' search for reassurance.

Another female judge spoke up. "In going forward with these proceedings, you are challenging the highest authority on this Administrative Board—the Chairman, himself. We simply serve as intermediaries between the two of you, so his counterargument has been supplied to us, as well. However, we will make an independent judgment based on the evidence and testimony given." She tilted her glasses farther down her nose. "Do you both understand that?"

Sonic gave Shadow a sideward glance: In other words, he and Shadow were going against a motion made by the Chairman, himself—Shadow's father. In even shorter words, Shadow was rebelling against him. Using the school's internal law system seemed a bit odd, in Sonic's mind. Since a normal "No!" from his son usually incurred a slap across the face, it felt like an alternate, if not safer, form of recourse for Shadow to take. Just imagining Merlot's reaction was a terrifying endeavor.

And yet, an odd acceptance permeated from Shadow. It wasn't an "I give up" kind of acceptance; it chimed with a more "I'm ready for anything" tone. But was Shadow truly ready to confront his father after this? What if the motion failed? Would his father simply gloat and punish him? Or worse—what if it passed? How would he react? What would he say?

How much more terrifying could Shadow's father possibly be?

Regardless, Sonic felt his hand being clasped…Then, he gasped a little.

The cosmos had waved farewell.
His ghostly cape waved back.
That golden crown had cracked, having lost its jewels and power.
There was only a soft cry—pitiful sobbing—coming from within his arms' taut hold.
Vermilion ribbons turned to stardust, one by agonizing one…
The music box was white, but its gilt trims had dulled.
It sang a lonesome dirge. Of deep self-loathing. Hopelessness. Desperation.
But the White King murmured sweet-nothings to the music box.
He wanted it to remember that the night is always darkest before the dawn…
And that he'd be right there, awaiting the dawn of his Cosmic Queen.

"Yes, your Honor. We do."

Shadow's tone didn't waver. In fact, his hand tightened its hold.

All Sonic could do was grip it back.

Vermilion Terrace. Its grounds had been tended to. Gardeners inspected and quartered off the flowerbeds, shortly before lawn care commenced. Mower engines revved, and went off and around the premises.

Inside the mansion, Merlot's Head Maid gathered some supplies from a closet within the home's miniature sickbay. There with her was the new in-house doctor—Dr. Bernard Carrie. He assisted her, and they retreated to a different room.

Shadow's room.

After a knock on the door, a feeble "Come in…" allowed them entry. Upon her entering, Bernard warned, "Please, Desmona…what you're about to see isn't in your jurisdiction to deal with. Just keep back; I'll handle this."

On the bed laid Bernard's "master." The fellow hedgehog was on his stomach, lying flat and straight, atop a white sheet while covered by another. Bernard boldly and fearlessly approached the smaller male and pulled the top sheet back. Revealing numerous fresh, bleeding welts. Bernard had no choice but to bring up a hand towel and bottle of isopropyl alcohol.

The cart of medical supplies stayed beside Desmona. Her brown squirrel tail waved in nervous arcs, occasionally flinching and curling, at the other man's pained yelps. The pillow was clawed into; the underside sheet rustled and wrinkled as he cringed. "Please, Master, be still," he heard the much older hedgehog retort as softly as he could. "It hurts…" his own quibbles escaped.

There were so many welts. Open wounds—made by impacts and friction cuts. Desmona knew what Bernard's master was going through.

Merlot was punishing him. What she couldn't fathom was why.

Bernard had tied back his wavy, auburn tresses to better his scope of vision. The younger hedgehog's injuries weren't life-threatening, but posed as vulnerable to infection if left untreated. The hand towel bloodied quickly to a cut so wide it would require stitches. As soon as he figured this, he asked without looking back, "Desmona, I need a bedpan. Could you fetch one for me?"

"Ah…Yes, just one moment."

After said moment, Desmona handed him the bedpan and watched him for a little while. Instead of its intended use, Bernard used it to hold a shallow pool of alcohol. In it sat a needle and a pair of tiny hooks. Out of a separate, personal, satchel came a spool of special thread. Resembling dental floss, Bernard unwound the first yard before bringing it through the needle's eye. Wearing latex gloves made everything cleaner, as well as a bit easier.

"Dinner will be ready soon, Dr. Carrie. Shall I prepare dishes for you and your master?"

"Yes, please." The conversation failed to deter him from his work. "Also, if you will, do not knock. I will come to the door when I am able. I'll listen for your arrival."

The squirrel's distress response had reached its peak, but the auburn hedgehog expressed nothing but composure. Despite the stifled screams Bernard sewed the longest wound with tender, careful hands. Despite those enduring tears, he whispered brave sweet-nothings into the younger man's ear.

Desmona was amazed, as well as disturbed, by the middle-aged hedgehog. Without anything else to say or do, she departed from the bedroom as quietly as possible.

The room fell into silence. Bernard's grueling ordeal hushed down, while his master's pants and groans kept his thoughts from straying too far. Everything was closed up, cleared out, and put away. Tools, cleaned and sanitized; blood-spotted sheets, piled into a plastic bag like they were a completely separate entity. His master's recovery was expedited by a special balm he'd applied a bit after the stitches were finished. To protect them even further, he'd dressed him in gauze and wrapped a light robe around him.

"Can you sit up?"

"I don't think I can."

"Would you like me to assist you?"

"…Yes. Please."

Evening passed smoothly over the rainfall. Springtime flowers delighted in the crisp drink, looking forward to shining brighter in the morrow. Leaves cupped what they could hold; birds of a feather took small gulps from them before they lost their chance.

Bernard captured that moment in his sights. That was when a small moan made its way into his ear. His eyes captured his master's face next. That midnight fur glistened, evaporated sweat still clinging to it. Fairly long eyelashes flinched and squinted to the soreness that throbbed in succession on his back.

Those injuries that'd been dealt were done the old-fashioned way.

Bernard's memories burned just like those welts: Deep in a private cellar, Bernard was handcuffed to a support beam. His master, not too far off, was forced down on his hands and knees by a kick to the back. Unable to crawl away, Bernard's master huffed in panic. Merlot's cruelty shined like a ray of insidious light. One hand had slapped a pair of weighted cuffs on his victim's wrists; the other brandished a bullwhip. Before he knew it, lacerations had appeared on the other hedgehog's back, buttocks, and thighs. Clothes shredded from each strike. Screams could not be heard, even as Merlot's hired homemakers worked a mere floor above them.

"No one can hear you scream down here," Merlot retorted in pure cruelty to the shuddering man. "Except for your precious professor. This is the spoil I've been waiting for in this battle…I have won, at long last. You, my dear, will be dragged towards death…ever so slowly."

Lash!—"Aaaaghh!"

"First, I will make you bleed…just like her."

Whip!—"Haaaah!"

A madness entered Merlot's gleaming ebonies. "I will wring every ounce of blood out of you before you can beg for your precious 'God' to deliver you from your suffering!" With an intent skin-shy of murderous, Merlot tossed the bullwhip away and picked up something…a bit more solid.

Bernard watched in desperation and terror as Merlot stomped down on his master's head. "Bow only to me, vermin." Slowly, he unharnessed a fencing foil—a practice sword he'd allowed Shadow to use against him during training. It was a bit rusty, but still in usable condition—for this occasion, unfortunately. "Your 'God' had forsaken you. Now, you must bow to me." A sinister smirk curled a corner of his lips. "I can easily replace your 'God'…!"

Thwack!—"Haaaaagh!"

"Where is your deliverance, bastard?"

Thwack!

"Merlot! Stop it! Please!"

"Where is your mercy? Where are your blessings? Did the angels finally lose interest? Did your 'divine protection' finally wear off?"

Thwack! Smack! Ka-swack!

"He's insane…! Merlot! Merlot, listen to me—!"

"Silence!"

He pointed the foil in Bernard's direction, but kept his eyes pinned on his target. A distinct coldness had frozen over them. Contradictory to his irate seething. The older hedgehog looked on helplessly; he was so unworthy of Merlot's gaze, it seemed.

"An old man has no business butting into my affairs! I am keeping you here simply to make you suffer alongside him…Now, wait your turn, Dr. Carrie," he spat in derision. Raising the foil over his head, he hissed, "I want to see if forty lashes is what it'll take…for his 'God' to come down from his pedestal and save His child."

"Merlot, please stop, I beg of you!"

But Bernard's words went ignored.

Ka-slap!

A nearly inhuman scream forced its way out of his victim's windpipes. To Bernard, it was as if an actual angel had screamed, instead. It brought forth tears. Rushing tears. Gushing tears.

And voracious laughter. "Where is your 'God' now, wretched fool?! Where is your salvation?! Your mercy?! Your faith?!" Anger traced under Merlot's madness. "Has it finally abandoned you?! Good riddance! Now, I hold your life in the palm of my hand—just like hers! Bow to me—bow to me, and no other! I will become your 'God,' and save you from your suffering…by drawing out every single ounce of blood out of you before you die!"

Bernard couldn't believe what he was hearing or seeing anymore. His body slumped, and his mind shut down. His energy leaked out total shock and weakness. He couldn't save his charge. He couldn't stop his oppressor. He couldn't do anything at all.

Reluctant, now, to leave his side the auburn hedgehog held his master in his arms on the bed. Clues of a boy's room stood out to him, but there was something odd about it. Without giving it too much thought, he retreated back into his self-loathing.

"Forgive me, Master."

Midnight eyelashes peeped open.

"I couldn't do anything to stop him. He senselessly beat you, and not even my words could halt him…I have failed you. Even as I have treated your wounds and am holding you close, I feel useless. Please, Master, forgive me."

A single tear fell from Bernard's eye. It landed atop a palm reaching towards his face. Shocked, Bernard couldn't believe the face his master had made.

There was a shy, yet genuine, smile there. "Don't cry, Bernard. You saved me. And I thank you…from the bottom of my heart."

Lithe arms embraced the sixty-year-old man's neck, nuzzled his neck, and purred lovingly. In spite of his tears the auburn hedgehog blushed lightly. Careful hands weren't sure where to go, what to hold, or how close they should be. "M-Master…" a flustered grumble escaped. To another sweetheart's purr, he surrendered and held him closer. A lover's kiss went to his master's forehead; to it, he let out a small chuckle.

Suddenly, it quieted to a sad hum.

Bernard saw the new expression almost instantly. "Are you alright, Master?"

"I…I don't know…if my suffering is helping in any way at all." Clear-cut eyes misted with insecurity. "Is all of this…helping? Is my pain and torture…enough for her to forgive me? Much more…?"

The next kiss was shared by Bernard silencing the younger man with his own lips. A love-sparked dive made the midnight hedgehog forget about any pain or insecurity he'd felt. It faded to black as he returned the older man's kiss. By simply shutting his eyes he heard a voiceless reply.

"I will never give you more than you can bear."

A single tear of his own ran down.

There was still hope. There was still time.

"Épisode VIII" Set…

Jun Yabriel: Greetings, friends. Forgive me if I sound like Starfire, but I have returned! After waiting for nearly 3 months, I still do not have the Wi-Fi. I have updated all 4 of my Sonic-related projects, so this note sums up for all of them. Not only MonCor, but Wind Chronicles, Hymnals, and Picturesque have been updated! If you're a fan of any of these, go ahead and check 'em out.

Okay, that's enough Starfire-ing outta me! Triple 7, signing off! (Hopefully not for 3 months again!) It's been a while, so remember: Reviews make a happy Jun! So be that awesome reviewer I know you can be!