Chapter One: Celebrations
Written by Japs
The Ceremonial Hall was littered with sandstone pillars, fluted with the designs of owl-like faces, mouths open and eyes wide. These pillars stood in four great rows, travelling back as far as the burning torchlight allowed, a long corridor leading to the Hall itself, a great circle of sand-gold walls with their ancient designs of war and battle. They pictured a rivalry, a feud between two clans.
Knuckles sat kneeling, dressed in a brown-dyed woollen tunic. His dreadlocks hung down his back, brushed out of his face. Water was poured slowly from a jug onto his red forehead. Blessed water, apparently. Another echidna, white where he was red, held it while chanting the Memorants that spoke the same as the walls did. How the echidna tribe stole victory when they did not have the strength to battle, and never gave up, and fought with honour unlike their enemies. Knuckles kept his eyes shut and his face unreadable. It's not that I don't respect the honour, but I've heard this all before.
"...And when we had their bounty, this land was blessed upon us by the mighty Mobius", Shaman Zachary continued. "The land did quake, and then rose up, away from our enemy. For generations it has served us well, this Island of the Heavens, this Floating Island. And for each generation one has been chosen for the role of Guardian to what we have in memory of the lives we lost in battle. You, Knuckles, are so chosen, and on this day, the day of your coming of age, you are presented with the Silver Shawl."
Knuckles opened his eyes in politeness as his own metal shawl was taken from him. Then, Zachary slid the Silver Shawl of the Guardian upon his shoulders. It was cold, and heavier than the other shawl, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He looked up at Zachary. What was that look he had on his face? Was Zachary jealous towards him? But as soon as the shawl was fastened, the look was gone. Probably just due to the weight. He is getting older.
"Rise, Knuckles the Guardian." Zachary announced, with his arms raised up high. Knuckles did so and turned his back on him – turned to face his audience. The whole of the Echidna had turned up. At the front he could see his mother and father, and his little sister clinging onto his mother's shirt, hiding behind her but gazing in awe. He gave her a smile and a wave. The crowd broke quickly from silence to cheers and laughs. This was the time for Knuckles to make his Promises. He motioned for a hush, which came surprisingly swift.
"I will take your gift to me," he announced, "and all that comes with it. You have me elected as your Guardian, and I will do so. The Chaos Emeralds will be safe until the next generation of Echidna!"
The crowd's noise broke again. They lifted him above their heads, and the Halls of Ceremony echoed his name. "Knuckles, Knuckles, Knuckles!"
But something nagged him. How could he make such Promises when the land under the Floating Island was changing? Almost a quarter of Mobius was now no longer of grass or sand or water, but now metal. Smoke rose from it, and near it was fire. And war. What if the Island was detected by this metal menace? What if the Chaos Emeralds were known of down there, after so long, and the power they held became desired by whoever was causing the industrialisation of the world?
"Knuckles, Knuckles, Knuckles!"
He couldn't let them down. Not his people.
Tails grunted as he shut his eyes just in time to stop the oil that dripped onto his face from getting in them. He reached out for the rag by his side, and then saw the state of his gloved hand and his arm. Oil stains all over. He sat upright, to take a look at the rest of his body to see if it was in a similar state, and it was only until it was too late he remembered he was lying under his biplane.
Rubbing his head, he kicked himself out from under the plane on the wheel board he lay on. He stood up properly, and then looked at himself. His body was filthy from head to toe with clots of hair stuck together with oil and grease. Well, at least he had found where the fuel was leaking now. Looking away from his filthy, fury body, he looked up and smiled with a sense of achievement.
Before him sat the Tornado 3, his most recent biplane, now with an engine upgrade so that it could reach faster speeds in less time. The fox's ears twitched in delight. If there was one thing he loved more than mints, it was aeroplanes.
As he turned, his hands rubbing together and his famous twin tails rubbing together also, his ears twitched again. Someone was calling him.
But not by the name of Tails.
Manic peered around the open hanger door, flicking his green hair out of his eyes.
"Miles? Yo, Pixel Brain, you in here?" the hedgehog called.
Tail's plane was there, surrounded by various other bits and pieces of tools and odd metal components. The whole hanger looked like Tails had just been there, working on his plane, but he was nowhere to be seen.
"Oh," Manic chuckled, approaching the plane, "Playin' hard to get, huh? No biggie. I know you're in here, I asked some of the guys and they said you were here. I got news for ya man, big news." Manic tiptoed to the plane, lifting himself on one of the rungs at the side as silently as he could. "It would be a shame if you weren't here to... HEAR IT!" Manic leapt up, swooping his arms into the cockpit of the biplane to grab Tails, only the fox was not there. The green hedgehog ended up with his legs sticking obscurely out of the cockpit; waving like a clockwork toy's legs when it was wound up to it's tightest and then left upside down. After a struggle, he ended up sitting upright in the seat.
"Hey, not bad," he said, grinning. He put his hands on the steering wheel and turned it left to right. "Lotsa cool buttons. Pixel Brian's got some neat tricks up his sleeves."
"He sure does."
Manic looked up in shock, and he was met face-to-face with a water balloon filled as full as could be travelling down to him. It burst open with a crack and a sploosh, leaving the hedgehog soaked from spike-to-toe with a bit of blue rubber left over from the balloon hanging on his snout. Disgruntled, he looked up again. Tails hung midair, his twin namesakes working as one like a propeller, clutching his stomach and laughing uncontrollably.
"Not cool, little dude." The punk muttered, shoving his hand into one of his jacket pockets and producing a very worn out looking handkerchief. "You wait to my bro hears about this."
"He'd probably congratulate me fo–" Tails began, then nearly dropped out of the air as his mind clicked. "What do you mean?"
"That's what I came to tell ya, little dude," said Manic, grinning at the young fox's reaction. "My bro's comin' back. Today."
"Sonic!" Tails squeaked. This time he actually dropped out to the ground. Tails working, he used them to propel himself forward as he ran.
"Stoked, huh?"
Manic was running easily alongside Tail's pace.
"Yup!" chimed the fox. "It's been too long! Are you excited?"
"Oh yeah!" Manic replied, as if it was an obvious question. "He's my bro, ya know? We gotta stick together. Sonia went wild when she found out. And then of course Amy found out. There's gonna be a surprise party for Sonic and the guys that went with him."
"Is that a good idea?" Tails asked. "I mean, what if he comes back with bad news?"
"Bad news? What bad news could spoil the fact Sonic's coming home? 'Cept maybe the state you're in."
Tails squealed. "Oh no! I totally forgot I was all dirty!" A sharp left turn and the two were running towards the lakeside.
"I'll race ya there!" Manic chuckled, then increasing his pace. He wasn't going his full pace, to be fair to the eight-year-old fox. Tail's picked up his pace too.
"Last one there's a rotten Eggman!" Tails called back to Manic. The two ran off towards the lake.