The Sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the winds are blowing, the leaves are rustling. He stands amidst it all. He basks in the sereneness of it all.
What the hell is going on? Why is everything getting more and more different? Why is this happening? Why can't I recall what it is that's changed in the real world that's made its way here?
He looks up.
There isn't a cloud in the sky
He sighs in gratitude at the relief that whatever, or whoever, is causing this change is bringing him.
Thank you
Then the voices begin calling out to him. And then, nothing.
What?!
He waits for it to begin again, again and again and again, like it always has, like it always does, like it always should. But nothing happens, and that nothing is more momentous than anything else that happens in this dream, these dreams, ever.
Thank you
Then the faces come to him, but do they not cause him pain, nor do they cause him anguish, nor do they cause him shame, nor do they cause him regret. In fact, they do not cause him anything. He says nothing, for he has nothing to say to them. As their faces flash before him he is as a statue, unmoving and silent. But, in fact, in does have something to say to them, something he's never said before, not just in this dream, these dreams, but ever.
"I am what I am."
At these words, this affirmation, the faces and the voices disperse into the ether. They are gone.
I won't apologise, but I still love you all
Then a face comes to him, her face.
Yours
But he does not feel what he's always felt, what he always feels, and what he should always feel. He then hears Amadeus' booming voice. even though he's never heard it and never will.
"My boy."
But he ignores it, he doesn't need his help, not anymore.
You've saved me a lot of times dad, but to end this I need to face it
The voice does not repeat it's call, content with the mental answer. He looks down to the ground and then looks back up, and she is there. Her motherly face is so still he can almost believe her a statue. Her auburn hair sways in the breeze, her tan fur glistens in the light of the Sun, and her blue eyes stare at him, something within them. He doesn't know what it is, maybe he never will. But that's okay. It's okay not to know. He recognises who she is, finally.
Mom...
But, although somewhat vaguely resembling her, the figure standing before him is not Rosemary Prower. No, it is her.
It's you, it's always been you...
He stands before her gaze, no longer helpless, no longer terrified, no longer weak. He is secure, he is determined, he is resolute.
I'm done running, I'm done hiding
Her mouth begins to move, but he does not flinch, he is not afraid of it, not anymore. He continues to stare into her beautiful blue eyes.
Say it
"Miles, you're my 'Little Soldier', right?"
For the first time in this dream, these dreams, he hears her voice. He didn't think he ever would hear it, but now he has. His face, opposite of hers, is firm, stolid, and stoic.
"No."
For the first time in this dream, these dreams, her face changes, contorting into an expression of shock and hurt.
The cycle is breaking
"Oh..."
The pain in her voice is apparent, unmistakable in its inflection, and it pains him to hear it. But regardless, he faces her. For the first time in this dream, in these dreams, he does not wake up.
"But you're still my 'Soldier', right?"
Can I say this? She's my everything
Her expecting expression hurts him worse than any blow from avians or Robotonik's machines ever had.
No, I can't say it, but I must nonetheless
"No."
Her eyes do not water nor do tears well in them, instead they burst out like a shattering dam. His heart sinks low, lower than it probably has ever had. He is going past a point of no return, his point, a terrible point, but one he must go to all the same. As she continues sobbing right in front of him, he offers no comfort to her, despite how terrible it makes him feel.
"I'm not your 'Soldier' anymore, I'm no one's soldier anymore. I'm no longer The Soldier. I'm Miles."
He now walks closer to her until they are but a hair's breadth apart. He strokes her auburn hair so softly that a sleeping baby wouldn't notice a thing, and then he kisses her forehead. He then says it aloud, for the first time in this dream, these dreams; but not the first time in the real world.
"I'm sorry, and I love you."
He wakes up, but he does not open his eyes. He gets up and opens them only once he's sitting up and facing to where the marshal will be. And he is there.
Him
He smiles, he's done it. He's broken this mental loop of torment that he's been going through for two years, maybe longer.
It didn't leave me, I left it
It's over, he's faced it, he's freed of it.
Thank you
"Mon garçon, did you sleep well?"
His eyes engross themselves in every detail of the grey renard, like a moth to the flame. He is going to say yes, but this time, for the first time this morning, these mornings, the words will not be a lie, not even the lie without deception. He's being honest and open, and he's free.
"Yes, I did."
His words, despite coming from the same voice and consisting of the same content as before, are completely different. Somehow, the marshal notices this and looks up from his work and to the boy. His eyes fall upon Miles, and in those strong, stern, and brown eyes, something shimmers within them. Miles doesn't know what it is, maybe he never will. But that's okay. It's okay not to know.
"Vraiment?"
"Yes, really. Everything is different now."
"Are vous différent now?"
He shakes his head.
"No, I was different before, now I'm who I always was, always am, and always will be. I am what I am."
The grey muzzle of the marshal sprouts a genial smile.
"I'm glad vous sleep well now. It is a terrible thing to not be able to truly rest."
Miles knows the marshal means more by that statement than is apparent. But he does not press it, for he knows it is not for him to press.
"Yea, like you'd know anything about rest! I swear, do you even sleep?"
It is a silly question, of course he sleeps. Not only is it obvious that he sleeps, Miles has seen him sleep. But the marshal doesn't need to know that. Let the grandiosity remain.
You'll always be grandiose in my eyes, always
The marshal gives a playful look
"I do."
Miles does not shake his head, he simply smiles.
"Never change, marshal."
"Not for the whole world, but maybe for Mercia..."
Thank you
Where the hell are you?
The princess walks the halls of the ship, for today is the day they will reach Downunda and the pink fury is nowhere to be found.
If I was an irate, fierce, impetuous, loving, sincere, and rowdy ball of pink energy on a massive warship with thousands of irate, fierce, impetuous, loving, sincere, and rowdy aviators, where would I be?
As she runs through locations, it dawns on her.
Of course
She begins walking towards where Amy obviously is. She feels almost foolish for not realising it immediately. As she approaches the ship's pub, she hears the sound of singing voices.
Now Playing: "Drunken Aviator"
(Based On "Drunken Sailor")
What will we do with a drunken aviator?!
What will we do with a drunken aviator?!
What will we do with a drunken aviator?!
Early in the morning!
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Early in the morning!
Of course, the one song they sing that isn't about conquering and killing, and it's about getting blackout drunk...
Shave his fur with a rusty razor!
Shave his fur with a rusty razor!
Shave his fur with a rusty razor!
Early in the morning!
She flinches at the jovial way they sing about such pointless cruelty.
Rusty?
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Early in the morning!
As she closes in, she hears a distinct voice. Amy's voice.
Tie him to a lifeship and let him hover!
Tie him to a lifeship and let him hover!
Tie him to a lifeship and let him hover!
Early in the morning!
Well at least she's having fun...
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Early in the morning!
As she walks into the pub, she sees plenty of sailors dancing and drinking, all eyes on the one figure who stands out most clear among the sea of white uniforms.
You
The pink blur is dancing on top of the counter, a drink in one hand and her other one making a fist as she gesticulates her dance moves.
Stick him in the vacuum chamber and flush right by him!
Stick him in the vacuum chamber and flush right by him!
Stick him in the vacuum chamber and flush right by him!
Early in the morning!
Blegh! Gross!
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Early in the morning!
Wait, who let her drink?
Put him in the bed with the captain's daughter!
Put him in the bed with the captain's daughter!
Put him in the bed with the captain's daughter!
Early in the morning!
She'd be disgusted if she wasn't already expecting such a thing from this song.
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Early in the morning!
That's what we do with a drunken aviator!
That's what we do with a drunken aviator!
That's what we do with a drunken aviator!
Early in the morning!
Despite her dislike for the song, she can't help but enjoy the fact that, for this brief moment, all eyes are not on her. She isn't the center of attention, no one here even knows she exists in this moment. It's oddly liberating. And she's happy that her friend, yes her friend, is having a helluva time.
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Early in the morning!
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Way hay and up she rises!
Early in the morning!
As the singing and dancing comes to an end, Amy bows as if she's just given a performance to the cream of the crop of high society. The crowd cheers and whistles in approval and she raises herself back up and jumps down, spilling her drink everywhere, and lets out a warm laugh.
"Boys, that was incredible! A toast, to you all, ya fabulous bastards!"
She raises her mostly empty glass and realises it's empty, but before she can go refill it an airman beside her pours part of his glass into hers.
"For Miss Rose, one of us!"
"HUZZAH!"
The hearty cheer reverberates through the metal walls and halls of the ship and various airmen quickly go to help in filling up Amy's glass.
"You're all too kind!"
An aviator responds with a matching tone.
"Only you could say that about this lot, Miss Rose!"
"Maybe. If so, then a new cheer, to all US fabulous bastards!"
"HUZZAH!"
Once more the cry travels far through the ship and then they down their drinks. Sally is shocked at how quickly Amy does so with hers. She's sure that Amy's has never drank before and now here she is acting like so.
Oh my!
When she finishes drinking, her eyes look forward and spots Sally.
"Oh! Sal! So good to see you!"
At these words the whole room turns quickly to verify if what she just said is true. When their eyes confirm that, indeed, it is, they quickly sober up and try to make themselves look professional and orderly.
Ugh, now it begins...
"Ah, Your Royal Highness, I apologise for this, display. We had no idea you'd be coming her-"
She raises her hand.
"Please, don't apologise. You were just enjoying yourselves. Just keep going about as I'm not here, that's an order, okay?"
The airman's face fills with astonishment at these words but quickly recovers and delivers a salute, palm facing outward.
"Ma'am, yes ma'am."
Well, at least that's a start
The pink prima-donna strolls up to her.
"Hey Sal, everything okay?"
"Are you drinking?"
"Yup! Tastes like piss but it makes you feel funny and that's all they need. And if it's good enough for them, it's good enough for me."
"Amy, you're sixteen."
"Hey, last I checked that was the legal age in Acorn. Also, I'm actually seventeen, my birthday was a couple months ago, same days as yours."
Shit, she's right, sorry Amy
"Don't worry, I'm not mad you forgot. But back to my point, I'm really like twenty-three. Ring of Acorns, remember?"
She crosses her arms and looks to the side.
"You know what I mean..."
"Yea, but I like being technically correct. It's the best kind. So what did you want to talk about?"
"We're gonna be in Downunda in a few hours."
"Oh right! We gotta get ready. Let's go."
Sally's eyes return to Amy's face and she raises an eyebrow.
"Just like that?"
Amy is clearly confused by the question.
"Uh, what do you mean?"
She shrugs her shoulders.
"I don't know, I just thought you'd be a little more somber to leave all this fun and enjoyment you've been having behind."
"While I indeed will miss this ship and these fabulous bastards, I miss Tails even more. These guys?"
She gestures to the airmen who, although mostly relaxed, are still attempting to keep steady voices and act professional even though Sally had ordered them to go about their business as usual.
It's never going to leave me, is it?
"Buddies, friends, and maybe, if I stayed longer, comrades. But Miles?"
She points to her heart.
"Family. Nothing comes before that. Ever."
Sally arms uncross and she feels a slight watering in her eyes as a great smile comes across her face. She hugs Amy both because she loves what she just said but also to hide her eyes.
"Never change, Amy."
"Not for the whole world."
They end the hug and Amy turns around to the sailors.
"Hey! You stupid, glorious bastards."
They all turn to face her.
"Stay fabulous!"
They all cheer and raise their glasses.
"And you as well, Miss Rose."
She walks up the bar and refills her glass, downing it one go, leaving Sally slack-jawed.
"Hopefully the next time I'm here you'll get something better than this piss. You boys deserve it."
"Only you could say that about us, Miss Rose!"
Hopefully she'll stop swearing like an aviator by the time we meet the Dowunda locals...
The two ladies walk out of the pub but before Amy fully departs she turns around and blows an exaggerated kiss, and then they depart for their quarters.
"Amy, how much did you drink?"
"It doesn't matter, you're my designated driver."
And hopefully her drinking habit stays aboard this ship...
Before the two can reach their rooms, the halls of the vessel blare with alarms and bathe in red light.
"What the hell?"
While Sally's face is one you would expect to see in this scenario, one of concern and worry, Amy's is one of glee and excitement.
"Oh man! And here I thought this trip was going to be a boring one back in Mobotropolis. Time to see some real action!"
The figures within the armory finish dressing and arming themselves.
"Ready to find us an airbase?"
The jackal fixes his helmet, looks down to the ochre fox, and simply nods. The six squad leaders exit the room armory and head out to where the rest are waiting. Edouard and Miles convene with their squads while Chéreau, Landyn, and Remy do the same with theirs. Standing side by side, the jackal speaks first.
"All right men, allons-y. Ç'est a long way to Marves and we're not getting any closer."
The five men of Edouard's squad give salutes and begin following him out of the camp. Now the fox addresses his squad.
"You heard the Division General, let's get moving boys."
He gestures for them to follow him and they begin the long walk, with Miles and Edouard leading the twelve man procession, side by side. Unbeknownst to any of them, Noël watches them leave from afar. He is alone and so he allows the continued existence of the look of worry on his face. When the scouting parties are out of sight, he lets out a slight sigh.
"Reviens, mon garçon..."
"Do you find it humourous to test my patience, St. John?"
"Yer Ma'esty, ov course not!"
"You say this, yet you ask me to further entangle Acorn into the 'Mercian Mire'."
"Yer Ma'esty, all that I reques' is a few briga'es ov Grenadiers. They will only be used ta defend tha' aircraft ya are sendin over. I can't trust any Mercian's ta guard them; who knows how they'll react once tha' true plan begins. An' I can't leave such valuable assets unguared. Surely ya can understand why I ask such a thing?"
The voice on the other end is silent for a moment. A sigh breaks the quiet.
"Very well, I will detach a brigade, a single brigade, of the Acorn Grenadiers. But I do not wish to see their corpses becoming international news, do I make myself clear?"
Although he did not yell, the fierceness of his voice delivers a similar effect.
"Ov course, yer Ma'esty."
"Good. I expect great things, St. John. You've yet to disappoint, don't start now."
He hangs up, leaving the skunk alone in the silence. He stands in it, unsure what to do next.
"Mine own friend."
Geoffrey turns around to face the hedgehog
"Wha' is it Em'ry?"
"Valorous news, I am joyous to saye. Our eff'rts to gath'r sufficient vocal data f'r thy ecce'tric d'vice art finished. Anon, we simply await f'r t to maketh the words we desire f'r our plan to commence f'rth."
He produces the small device and hands it to Geoffrey.
"Excelen'. Oi've got sum good news ov ma own."
"Do tell."
"Ma king has agreed ta sen' a briga'e ov elite soldiers, tha' Acorn Grenadiers. A couple thousan' ov Acorn's fines'."
"What purpose shalt they beest hath used f'r? St'rming the palace?"
"Nah, nothin' ov the sort."
Not yet anyways, sorry Em'ry
"I jus' wan' to ensure tha' planes that he's sendin us are well defended. We can't risk guardin them with Mercian's."
Emery gives an inquisitive look to Geoffrey at this statement.
"Prayeth bid, St. John?"
"It's simple. Either they will be agains' our plan an' so we can't trus' them ta keep such valuable assets safe. Or they are for our plan, an' we'll need them 'ere, in Marves."
The hedgehog rubs his chin.
"I supposeth that maketh senseth."
Geoffrey places a hand on Emery's shoulder.
"Ov course it does. We can't be doub'in each other when tha' odds are already stacked so high agains' us."
The hedgehog's face sprouts a smile.
"Most true, mine own friend!"
Geoffrey's blue orbs peer into Emery's hazel eyes, although on the surface his face betrays nothing, deep down the he feels a deep guilt.
I'm sorry Em'ry
"Now, this baby 'ere will have tha' confessions ov treason from tha' royal guard agains' glawious King Rob'rt' by tomawrah. Get ev'ryone ready, we'll be makin' our move inna few days."
Emery gives a nod and walks off to ensure that this "temporary constructive regency", as they've been planning to call it, will successfully come into being. But deep in the skunk's chest, he knows that isn't the true plan.
I'm sorry Em'ry
And then his thoughts drift towards the later steps and how a certain troublesome person, both the most important and probably least predictable part of his plan, wouldn't exactly be thrilled when she learns of what he had in plan for her.
You'll be Queen ov Mercia, whether ya wan' ta or not
The blue blur speeds across the vast verdant plains, the cool wind blasting into his face, the world around is silent save for his own movement, he is at peace. Once he reaches the top of a high hill he quickly comes to a stop. Emerald eyes survey the seemingly endless fields that stretch out to the horizon.
"Ugh! Another false lead! After this many no-shows, I'm starting to think that maybe these aren't just unlucky mistakes…"
I'm starting to think that they're just a bunch of red herrings...
He doesn't wish to vocalise his growing frustration with the state of affairs.
I'm the True Blue, after all
He's expected to be the plucky, spirited, and adventurous hero who never gives up and always saves the day.
That's what they all think. Well, sometimes I wish people understood that I'm just like everyone else...
He thinks to the few people who grant him such a courtesy. Well, maybe not thinking him like everyone else, but certainly not treating him like some hero sent from the heavens.
Sally, always ready to chew me out for whatever stupid thing I say or do, and then to care for me like I care for her, I love you baby
He then thinks to a passionate pink lady.
Amy, sure you may be creepily obsessed with me, but you're never afraid to make me feel uncomfortable or voice your intent on whacking me whenever I ghost you. Although in my defense, you aren't my girlfriend
He then thinks to the robotic white brow and mustache of a certain hedgehog.
Uncle Chuck, so smart and wise, always happy to answer my silly questions and to impart your old yet ageless wisdom onto this thick blue head of mine
He then thinks to someone he really didn't want to start thinking about.
Tails...
He slows down his running, but doesn't stop. He can't stop, if he were to stop, he'd be forced to focus on nothing but his thoughts and he can't do that, not right now, not when they're all on his brother.
I'm sorry little guy, for not being who you needed me to be. I just hope that wherever the hell you are in this crazy world, you're safe and happy, and that you're with people who love you just as much as I do, or more even. But I also hope you come back, so I can ruffle your bangs one more time, I love you little guy
He feels a single water come to his eye but in that same instant it is blown to the wind by his incredible speed. He then thinks about where he's going.
"I hope Max isn't too mad when I tell him this is another bust..."
The two ladies reach the bridge and see Captain Grey rushing about to coordinate with various members of the crew staring at various monitors. They approach the red vulpine.
"Captain, what's going on?"
Grey suddenly looks up at the voice.
"Ah, Your Royal Highness! Our radar has picked up signs of two hostile warships, we believe them to be of the Battle Bird Armada."
"Those guys? What the heck are they doing this close to Downunda?"
"Not sure, Your Royal Highness. And as much I wish I could indulge my curiosity; my primary concern is getting you two to the safest section of the ship that there can be near the lifeships. I'm afraid I must inform you that the fight that is to come shall be rough."
Amy is perplexed.
"Why? A two v two sounds like pretty damn good odds for us considering how state-of-the-art these ships are."
Grey lets a smug look glow on his face for an instant, hearing his "girl" be described as state-of-the-art, which she is, gives him much joy.
"A fine observation, Miss Rose. Except for one complication. I'm not sure if you have had a look outside in the last four hours, for the HMS Sentinel is not with us at this moment."
The two ladies share equal levels of shock and vocalise it in unison.
"What?!"
"Engine issues in the ship forced them to make an emergency landing to carry out repairs. I just messaged them and even with the urgency of this situation, what with you, Your Royal Highness, being on board, they won't be able to get back into the air to us for another hour, which in that time means we'll probably be nothing more than an ash pile in the ocean. My hope is to do as much damage to these ships as possible so that the HMS Sentinel can mop up what remains."
"Wait, you mean you don't plan on beating them?"
"Well, Your Royal Highness, a captain should never plan for defeat, but always account for it. Right now, I'm doing much more accounting than planning. You two shall evacuate via a lifeship; only you two and around thirty-five men, pilots included."
Sally's face is one of total confusion.
"Why? There are over a hundred lifeships and they can each fit from thirty to forty people in them. We could save the majority of the people on the ship."
"That will only save us from dying with the ship, instead we shall find ourselves helplessly adrift in the air in and die after swiftly thereafter. If this ship evacuates then it will not be able to fight against theirs and they will be free to hound down our lifeships."
As much as Sally didn't like hearing that, she cannot deny that Grey has a point.
"Fine, I get not evacuating the entire ship, but why not at least a significant number? Even just a quarter would be better than just three dozen people."
"If we send out multiple lifeships the Battle Birds will have an easier time tracking them down and following you to Downunda. I cannot allow any harm to befall you, Your Royal Highness, and so I cannot allow more lifeships to depart than are necessary to save you and Miss Rose, and that number is one. One lifeship has a good chance of slipping by unnoticed and since the HMS Enduring will be operating at full capacity, we can give them a bloody nose to ensure they cannot pursue you."
Sally's confusion quickly turns into anger.
"You're gonna let over 4,000 people die just to save me?! What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Grey's face ensures that Amy and Sally understand he feels no guilt or doubt over this line of thinking.
"Of course, Your Royal Highness. We are sworn servants of Acorn, the house and the land. Both will suffer greatly if you, Your Royal Highness, perish here. What you suggest is to abandon our duty for the sake of our own well-being, we can do no such thing."
Gah! Duty! I hate that word…
"Captain, you'll be damned if you think I'm gonna board a lifeship while thousands don't."
"Your compliance is not required, Your Royal Highness. Neither is Miss Rose's. If need be, I will order my men to incapacitate and deliver you both to safety."
Sally appears so enraged it seems like she could start a fire. Amy looks at her with a bit of self-reflection.
Is that what I look like? Have to admit it looks good. Just more reason for me to keep being myself
"You can certainly try! I'll lay out anyone who tries and knock me out!"
Amy then decides to speak up and prevent this from turning into a full-on brawl.
"Well then, everyone, if that's the way it's gotta be, then the only way to make everyone here happy is to make it so we don't have to make such a choice."
Grey and Sally look at Amy with bewildered expressions. Before they can ask, she answers.
"It's simple you see, we just gotta beat the crap out of those damn Battle Bird bastards so hard they won't come calling till the Sun rises in the west! Captain, you won't have to get Princess and me outta here and princess, won't have to let thousands of aviators die. Win-win."
"Of course, Miss Rose. There's but one issue with your plan. Actually winning this battle."
"Hey I said I had a way, not a miracle."
Sally looks down in contemplation.
"She's right."
"Your Royal Highness, you can't be serious?! You and Miss Rose must get below deck, to the lifeships and safety, at once!"
Sally is about to respond but Amy does not let her do any such thing.
"Not gonna happen, Captain. We're not some helpless damsels in distress, Sally and I have been fighting and kicking the asses of serious threats for years on end. Either we go and fight with your help, or without it."
Sally simply gives a tilt of her head to Amy while her eyes lock with Grey's, signaling that she concurs with this statement. He lets out a heavy groan, showing he's clearly not happy with this, as if his face isn't enough.
"Miss Rose, has anyone ever told you tha-"
"That 'with an attitude and furor like that, you'd make a fine marine'? Yup!"
Sally gives a smug smile and looks to the vulpine.
"If I recall Captain, you did."
Grey rubs his forehead.
"I guess we'll pretend that was what I was going to say, for my own sake…"
"Now, Captain, what's the best course of action to mess these birdy boneheads up?"
"Although I would hate to see any harm befall you, as would I hate to see the Endurance, my girl, be utterly maimed, we will have to close the distance and get into knife-fight range."
Sally quickly jolts up in surprise.
"Wait, one minute you're saying you wish to keep us safe and delay the enemy and now you're saying we need to get as close as possible?"
Grey simply nods.
"Keeping our distance and slowly getting whittled down is a safe route to defeat, the outcomes are easy to predict and control, but it leads to defeat nonetheless. If you were to be cooperative with your evacuation, I would not mind taking such a course, but since you're not, I will need to readjust tactics. Closing the distance is a risky route to victory, the outcomes are difficult to predict and control, but it may lead to victory. Hopefully, we can maneuver ourselves close enough to mitigate their numeric advantage, for if we are in between them they can't exactly let loose all their firepower without abandon, and we definitely will be able to. I also hope that it will give us a chance to execute boarding actions. We may lack marines and it'll be likely a one-way trip but if they could get to either the bridge or the engine rooms, they could knock a ship out of the fight, and that would certainly make my day!"
Amy nods.
"Sounds like you got a good plan, Captain."
"Much appreciated, Miss Rose."
He turns to Sally.
"But Your Royal Highness, I must make myself clear. If the situation deteriorates to a point where I determine victory impossible, I will not hesitate to have you incapacitated and ferried to safety, along with Miss Rose here if possible. I refuse to have guests on my ship die under my watch. Doubly so if they are of the royal family"
Sally grumbles and storms away.
"It seems you are rubbing off on her, Miss Rose."
Amy looks to her departing figure. She is shocked by how furious Sally became and how calm she herself managed to remain calm in this tense situation.
"Maybe she's rubbing off on me too…"
"Thank you, Sonic. Your continued service to the Kingdom of Acorn against the menace of Jul-"
He stops himself to correct his mistake.
"Robotnik, is most appreciated. Even if your current search has borne no fruit, I am certain you will find him."
"Thanks. Hey, you don't happen to know where Sally is, do ya?"
"She is not here at the moment. She is undertaking a royal visit to Downunda. Although she did not say it, I presume she wishes to get away from it all and not be disturbed by anyone, yourself included; otherwise, she would've told you."
The slightest smile possible forms on the king's face. To know that Sally did not tell the blue buffoon of her trip makes him very happy.
Perhaps she's starting to grow tired of him, maybe she'll instead match with a strapping young and loyal lad, like St. Joh-
Sonic's voice interrupts his musings.
"Ah, I see. Well good to know she's getting out and about the world. Don't want her all cooped up in here. I gotta go, Max. See ya!"
As the blue hedgehog speedily departs from the throne room, Maximilian lets a wave of thoughts enter his mind.
Rowdy, reckless, rebellious, restive rascal...
He despises that hedgehog. The only reason he even tolerates his existence in his life and his relationship with his daughter-
My daughter ! With that rabble!
-Is because he saved his life, restored him to his rightful place on this throne, is Sir Charles' nephew, and fights against that damned traitor.
Julian ! I should've had you hanged and beheaded once I, not him , won the war and ejected those filthy Overlanders! Instead, I let my foolish mercy and naiveté lead my decision making. And look how such irresponsibility has cost the realm
The king is not a happy man. For, in his eyes, he is beset by an array of issues, a world of hard facts and unwinnable dilemmas, and, to make such an ordeal worse, a host of weak, feeble, and self-absorbed cowards, who's only concerns are their own self-aggrandisement, pleasure, and arbitrary whims. The only solace that he feels the world grants him is an incredibly small pool of capable and devoted servants, although that pool has grown steadily smaller over the many years of his life and he fears for the day it dries up entirely. He thinks to one such solace.
St. John, I have faith in you. Don't let me down, my boy
That and his family. But that is a fairly complicated one. He thinks to Alicia, his own love.
Dutiful. Faithful. Adaptable. Intelligent. Beautiful. A wife better than I could ever hope for. But she is too good. Too loving. Too innocent. If only she knew the truth about him . About what he had planned to do to us. Would you sing his praises so high then?! Would you speak of his son with the same esteem?!
Those words make him think of Elias, his own son.
Nervous. Unsure. Indecisive. Impulsive
He looks down and thinks about himself.
Sorry son, that last one's from me. Maybe you'll learn to control it as I have, mostly at least, done so?
A brief chuckle releases from his chest.
He has a good heart, but even this strength is made into a weakness, for that heart of his is most vulnerable to childish ideals and childish love. He'd be a fine example of man if he was anyone else's son. But he's not, he is my son. And so, he is a sad excuse of a man, all thanks to something he never had any choice in determining. I thank the Source every day that you and your mother did not perish in that crash, but I wish it had also made you into the man you needed to be. Not for me, but for the realm. You are not fit to wear the crown resting on my head
His thoughts then drift to Sally, his own daughter.
Strong. Confident. Determined. Intelligent. Adaptable. Beautiful. All of your mother's good traits and then some
He lets out a groan.
Save for one...
He gets up from his throne and begins walking the halls, so that he may engage some other muscle of his body than just his mind, so that he may have some outlet to release his stress, his frustration, his disappointment, his fatigue, and his exhaustion, that will not cause alarm. The last time he had no appropriate outlet, he shattered the jeweled metallic armrests of his throne and had to suffer through nearly a week's worth of coddling and worrying from his hand servants. He would not endure such annoyances again. His thoughts return to Sally.
A proven leader in war and I'm sure in peace as well. She would most assuredly make an excellent heir. The first female but that matters not if she is as competent as she surely is. She is hard as well, not some squeamish and fainting weakling. I can only thank my decision to not send you with your brother and mother. That I spared you from Alicia's corrosive coddling is a blessing I thank the Source for. She would keep Acorn strong. Keep the realm at peace. Keep our enemies at bay. Give the commoners the chance to live out their simple and insignificant lives, free from the terrible machinations of some madman or revolutionary. But the one good trait you lack from your mother may just be your most damning one...
He stops and looks up; he sees several individuals staring at him with worried faces.
"What the hell are you all gawking at?! Is there an issue that requires my attention?"
They quickly scatter about at the sound of his words. He looks down to the floor and realises he is stamping noticeable imprints into the rugs of the floor with how hard his footsteps are.
"Hm, I see. To the gardens then."
He begins the walk to the gardens and his thoughts return to Sally.
The one trait you lack. The most essential one. The one which I could forgive the rest of your faults and flaws for. The one I would see myself killed in the most painful manner in a heartbeat if I was assured you would learn to embody that quality within yourself
He steps out into the sweet air and the verdant scenery.
Dutiful
He shakes his head in a futile attempt to shake the thoughts out of his mind. He walks over to and kneels beside a flowerbed. His flowerbed. He frowns at the first thing he sees in it.
"Abatinas again. I despise you senseless things. You hold no constancy. You're not even a flower, not really. You're just every flower that I don't want in here that I don't know. You change every time I come here. Today you are orange, but yesterday you were blue, and tomorrow you may be pink. I tire of removing you, I cannot keep doing it, and yet I must nonetheless."
He reaches out and rips them out, root and stem. He then looks to the left of where they were. A smile makes itself apparent on his face and his eyes grow soft with happiness.
"Ah, Edelweisses. You are a sight for these sore eyes. So many deride you as unpleasant, but I know the truth. The truth is that they see in you what they hate about themselves. You persist in dire conditions. You are strong. You are devoted. You may be an acquired taste, but to not acquire you is to be incomplete."
His eyes begin scanning the flowerbed, a beautiful canvass of vibrancy.
"Hyssops, so lovely. You are so useful to us. You make yourself as such knowing it will lead to your death. But you know that in your demise you will show us that you are useful and we will repay that kindness by planting your seeds, again and again. You sacrifice yourself so that everything that matters, everything but yourself, may be the better. You may be a useful thing, but to not use you is so splendid."
His royal blue eyes continue to dart back and forth across.
"Oh, Nasturtiums. So many decry and denounce what you represent, for they are so used to seeing it when they are the loser, when they are the conquered, when they are the vanquished. But when you are the victor, the conqueror, the vanquisher, then the sight of you can bring a stone soldier to tears."
His smile fades away as another unpleasant thing comes into view
"Hm, Daisies. Even this old and grouchy man cannot deny your beauty, your purity, and even now a part of me wishes to love you. But as old and grouchy as I am, I am also wise and experienced. I know what you represent, but it is not really what everyone else thinks you do. You do not actually represent innocence and purity, but I can forgive everyone for making such a mistake, I made it myself as a young man. What you truly represent, is desire devising delusion. People wish for purity and innocence and so often they are disappointed by how often what they think possess such things turn out to be nothing more than deception and tricks. So, when they see something that is honest in its lying, the lie without deception, that says 'I am not what I look like', they ignore it. I wish I could ignore it too. I cannot continue ridding myself of you, and yet I must nonetheless."
He reaches in and pulls them out as he did the Abatinas.
"The task may be thankless and without end, but all good men and women must see to it all the same."
His bout of melancholy comes to an end when he sees the mauve blossoms.
"Ah, Violets. So beautiful, but you always take a backseat to others, even when you don't need to. You understand that the world has places. You understand where yours lies, always. You stand true to what you are sworn to. And those facts make you much greater than your betters."
At last, the final ones. The amethyst perennials sway peacefully in the breeze.
"Sages. You are a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. You are that divine and ethereal aspect of the heavens that seeps a shadow of themselves into this flawed and chaotic world. You are life and knowledge. But they are but shadows, and all peoples, Man and Mobian, have long ago learned that we would never be satisfied with just the shadows. We chase your absolute form but in a final cruel irony, the closer we come to it the more we understand that we can never reach it, we never could, and we never shall. But that's okay. It's okay not to know. Wisdom is the destination of a never-ending path. It's okay not to last. Immortality is only a temporary stop on an inevitable road. A thing isn't beautiful because it lasts, nor is it because it ends. It is simply beautiful because it is."
He leans back and sits on the soft grass, viewing his sad excuse for a therapist.
"If only all of Mobius' fields and plains and forests held no other flowers but you five. Then this world may be just a bit better."
He looks up to the sky, blue gazing upon blue.
"I must be going mad if I'm talking to my flowers more than to my family…"
He thinks of the one thing in his life that is currently in progress that he has hope for.
"St. John, I have faith in you. Don't let me down, my boy."
He shuts his eyes and remains there. He enjoys the nothing that he is experiencing. This bliss is soon to be interrupted.
"Your Majesty!"
It's never going to leave me...
"The detachment of Grenadiers that are to be leaving await your farewell speech."
He opens his eyes, blue orbs facing blue sky, and sighs.
"Of course."
He stands himself up.
"Let's see to it."
It's okay that it won't leave me. One day, I'll leave it