She woke late in the morning when the sun had cleared the mountain peaks, trickling streams of gold into the cavern. The brush of light tickled her face and soothed the sleep away. With a flutter of eyelashes and a long, stretching yawn she sat up, blinking in her surroundings. Bright happiness fixed over her face when their eyes met.
Knuckles chewed his lip and snorted, his day already spoiled by the hours lost watching her sleep. Waking for sunshine, but not his summons! Oblivious to his hostility, the girl threw away her blanket and scooted across the stone floor to sit and stare in his face with a curious smile. His eyes betrayed a small shock, then with a snaky hiss, the guardian inched himself up against the cavern wall to keep some distance. Today, he promised, would mark the end of his leniency – the island called for his attention and he would not let her consume any more of his time.
Meanwhile, the child countered his retreat by shuffling closer until their knees touched, and the strong echidna jerked at their proximity. The pinned guardian kept his back rigid against the wall as she leaned her young features forward. A cornered animal for all intents and purposes, Knuckles snorted and hissed in her face, causing the girl to dip back and blink. She regarded her scowling protector from their small separation, lips pursed and considering his actions. He had only a small reprieve. Something flickered in her eyes, and with a great smile, she dived into his face again, (their wet noses only a twitch apart!) and blew a puff of air back in return.
Knuckles finally creaked one eye open, daring to see if it was over. The girl gave one of her silent giggles, pleased that she had learned this game, and shuffled off to explore the mouth of the cave. The guardian remained like stone, befuddled by her oddness and wondering why his face felt hot and flush. From the cavern entrance, she sparkled in the new sun; her face was turned back with the look of optimism.
He scowled and straightened up, invincible once more. "We're leaving," he nodded, fending off the questions in her eyes. Before he joined her, he considered the sandals woven the other day, discarded in on cavern floor. With a grunt, he swept them aside. The guardian had intended that she wear her footwear this day, but all forceful arguments were lost on him. Like petals from a dandelion, his anger was exhaled on a stream of wind.
There came another straining climb with a squeaky satchel of curiosity wrapped around his neck; then the memorable sloppiness of the termite mounds. Knuckles muttered aloud that she would grow to be resourceful, though the question of when pestered him like a buzzing gnat with every pulse of blood that shot through his weary temples.
The travel to the old forest took a painful hour without the teleporter system and with the girl's distractible nature, but with a great sigh, they finally entered the mossy canopy, propped up above their heads by trees so exactly vertical they were a system of pillars above the spiky undergrowth. The bark on these ancient relics was so thick it seemed to be gouged in alternating canyons and cliffs, with roots crawling into the ground like bulging veins. Knuckles seized her hand and walked briskly, ever wary that to scamper off in the wrong direction would lead to a drop down the cliffs outside these trees.
No objections came to her restraint. In fact, her skipping and prancing suddenly dampened, and Knuckles felt the protective squeeze of his fist returned with a worried grasp. She too sensed a marked change in the scenery she so loved – something unnatural. The air had a heavy heat to it, and ahead the shady trees filtered a strong, white aura. Perhaps she took the cue to worry simply by reading his stern face – angered a touch more as they approached the light.
Then they entered a ring of hot sun where the mud was cracked dry and the thin leaves shriveled on curled branches. Here was the worrisome aura – the trees were dying.
The child squeezed his paw tight. Their leaves were meager and brown, scorched by disease while the branches twisted and bent like aged bones. Knuckles did not know the source of this infection, but he had watched this sickly halo spread as the mighty timbers wilted and bore holes through the jungle roof. The roots he'd torn out only added to the naked patches in the skyline.
Extraction – that was the only solution. So Knuckles sat his dazed companion on an uprooted log and (after repeated monologues insisting she stay put, because as soon as he turned, she would follow) the guardian returned to his earlier work of tearing out the invalids.
Bark splintered like shrapnel under the blows of his fists. He beat the old fellow savagely and, when he had hacked deep enough, pushed over the dying flora for a thundering crash that made the girl jump from her spot and step away. Knuckles took a few shaking pants of air, then crouched to seize the venous stump. Out it tore in one upward heave, dirt shaking loose from its woody tendrils. Knuckles threw it aside, pleased with this morning's warm-up.
He was watched with elevated eyebrows and a dismayed stare. Why he would tear up the tree was beyond the girl; her disheartened stare branded him criminal. So he beckoned her over to inspect the fallen timber. The saddened girl obeyed, but tread cautiously, moving to the corpse with the same unease shown to an expiring mammal. Perhaps, he mused, she could also sense the Controller, and the pained song it sang among these dying ancients.
Scarlet and rose, they crouched over the tree. "Look. Over here," he grunted with a tap of his paw, pointing out the sunken black cankers growing over the bark, the mark of the disease.
The delicate girl leaned closer, taking a thin paw and trailing it towards the mountain ash. Her fingers dipped into the rotting depression, touching the sticky, amber ooze that bled from these wounds. Knuckles observed her innocent eyes, and how they rose up with understanding – these black spots were the offenders. Her slow revelation revived the memory of his own discovery weeks ago, but she mirrored with the marked absence of anger. Instead, the girl grew upset with sorrow. So markedly touched was she by the loss of life, it seemed as though her eyes had darkened with black cankers of their own.
Then her eyes darted up at the grove of withering beauty, and to her protector. Knuckles nodded. All of them. In a small slump of the body, her spirit collapsed. Unaccustomed to the sight, Knuckles squinted oddly and shuffled nervously while the music of the Controller accompanied her breaking heart.
She got up and walked for the trees, compassion on her face and concern in her quick tread. Knuckles rose, eyeing her guardedly for escape, but she moved only as far as the nearest tree. They shared an equal height, but the guardian suddenly felt smaller to his gentle ward, back arched and glowing with a strong will. Where did she learn to move with such purpose? She reached around to the nearest marks of sickness, and pressed her palms into the bark.
A wave of energy split Knuckles through the brain. He screamed, hammered to the ground by an onslaught like ocean waves, drowning in a burst of incredible power! He had to clench his eyes shut, and even so his vision was blasted with the supernova of chaos energy.
It was like a pillar of viridian light racing up the tree, pouring through its branches and crackling into every sickened leaflet. The crystalline voice of Master Emerald trembled in altissimo range, ready to shatter. Its beauty was so intense, so present; the guardian was writhing at the power exploding his senses. He'd crawled with this same pain all his encounters with Chaos and with every concentrated burst of energy the monster commanded. Seven servers before, but now – The Controller itself was being warped – the energy it radiated twisting into tornado funnels, channeling into the mountain ash like electricity blasting into a lightning rod, overwhelming …
The show of power cut off. Knuckles bolted upright, wobbled and then staggered through the afterglow of chaos to grab the girl. He froze.
Her paper-thin palms released the tree, and she turned around with a deep, refreshing sigh. Her large eyes darted about excitedly, looking up and brightening with the new shade above.
The new shade. Knuckles squinted at the dark blot before the sun. The leaves – they had grown fresh! The branches pulled themselves taught and the trunk breathed a healthy shine. The tree was restored!
Knuckles would have stood there, dumbfounded behind a reflexive scowl, but the giddy jingle of emerald chimes roused his attention, praising the work of this rosy sprite. The guardian burst over to the bubbly nymph and took her tiny hands, examining the traces of chaos that still trickled through his emerald-vision. How is this possible? The day before she had returned her evergreen dress to new perfection; now she had restored life to this tree! She could control chaos energy!
"How do you do this?" Once more he gained no answer – his incarnation of joy merely danced out of reach and skipped around the mossy timber, delighting in its shade and the soft earth. Yes – truly this was a time of celebration, but as protector of these lands Knuckles could only find anger and irritation at this miracle beyond his understanding. While the girl twirled through the tree boughs, the stalwart guardian approached the site of transformation and meditated on the events transpired. The girl continued her merriment, skipping deeper into the forest.
The bands of energy were still uncoiling themselves – like ripples in a pond they'd been distorted under a guiding hand, but how? Chaos, that watery creation of the Controller could bend the Servers to his will, harnessing the power of one where others required all seven. Shadow, spawn of Gerald, could call forth similar powers, but that man-made immortal could still do pitiful little – a teleport, a lightning strike, a burst of speed. Knuckles himself – bathed in the light of the Controller since birth, had never known such ability, had never called on such power in such strength as his nameless child.
He tried to focus on her energies as she moved; surprising himself that he sensed both the grand tower of strength that healed the tree as well as that nuisance of blackness that had pestered him throughout the night. His eyes opened with alarm. It was never her.
The repercussions flooded his heart. Quickly, he shut out the world to concentrate once more.
All morning I could sense it… Flitting about his head like an insect, impossible to pin down, to catch. But not her. She was so familiar to me. And still… All this morning, that absence felt near. But not her… even though it pulsed so incredibly close to her energy, like some airborne scavenger waiting to dive down and…
He swore he heard the girl scream, but there was no way to confirm, for at the same moment the Master Emerald let loose a deafening shriek.
Knuckles bolted after the girl. He could sense that energy void as he sprinted – now a dark coil winding around a great power as a snake wrapped round its prey. A brief struggle came from the trees ahead, and Knuckles followed the filthy darkness and the filthy sound of that hated, frivolous laughter.
"Echidna." The poisonous charms smiled as he ploughed on to the scene. "You found another girl? Really, I'm hurt!"
His breath was hot, his fangs were clenched and his eyes were drowning with murderous flecks of red. Seething fiery anger, he hissed out "Thief!"
Rouge the Bat raised a smug face and blew him a kiss. "Treasure hunter, sweetie. You should know I'm first-class." From between the coveting embrace of her arms squirmed the girl, terrified and pleading for help. The Master Emerald shook the air with terror.
"Isn't she sweet?" The bat nuzzled her nose into the child's hair, cuddling the girl in some twisted perversion of motherhood and making him jerk. "Maybe I'll keep her?"
Knuckles didn't bother to listen. The Thief! Why had he been so stupid as to ignore the signals? Rage zeroed his vision on the smarmy white bat and he stomped forward with murder on his mind.
The bat dropped the games and drew her body up. "Stop it, echidna!" She clutched the girl like a shield. The thief had more to say – warnings to keep distance, but the guardian stopped only to scoop a rock from the ground. The silent mewling of his charge filled his mind with righteous anger.
The Controller screamed again! Muscles clenched – sharing the pain of the great power, Knuckles staggered and fell to the forest floor. The bat held her captive's arm, ready to twist again.
"You stay there," she ordered, feminine sweetness cast aside to show her true self. The bat ran her filthy claw down the girl's hair, reaching the end of the ponytail. "Such a delicate little thing," she purred, yanking back the child's head; sending another blast through the Controller's energy field.
The thief hissed viciously. "It would be a shame if I broke her!"
Threats only challenged his temper. Knuckles snarled and ground the dirt in his paws, advancing on the invader that dared to touch the child he protected.
Another wrench of the arm forced Knuckles to stop – the pain, the chaos was overwhelming! He'd nearly blacked out with each quick shattering of the Master. Now, he felt as though the great crystal were being hammered with a nail that was this child – slowly, painfully splintering!
Where once joy smiled, Knuckles found confusion and fear. She wasn't supposed to be this way; he needed to move forward and correct this wrong; restore her smile. But her altered face now held an even greater power over his will.
The bat-devil smiled at the obedience rendered. "You'll give me back my emerald, echidna! I'll take good care of her until you do." Rouge stroked the girl with her claws, scaring her, pressing her in, making her chest pant and eyes water for release. Her eyes begged for him…
That crossed the threshold. Feral light in his eyes, Knuckles charged with a scream. Before the snarling beast of an echidna could bite, Rouge crushed the girl to her chest and bolted. He snapped at her heels, screaming and clumsy in his rage. Light quickly approached from beyond the trees. Knuckles knew what lay beyond.
Rouge snapped her wings open and pumped off the cliff. Knuckles skidded and wobbled through the pebbles, nabbing a tree trunk to stop his tumble. Debris dribbled down the sheer drop, into the maw, into the mushroom hills far below. The seething guardian held his life by a few branches and a footing of roots while the kidnapper glided over the valleys, wings stretched to the length of an albatross. She didn't need to flap much, but every pump of her leathery glider propelled her farther and higher than his slowed descents could possibly compete against.
Knuckles flung himself into the woods and exploded. He tore into the trees, smashed his fists into everything solid that resembled the thief. He destroyed the forest until his gloves were torn and his fists were bleeding. Then he collapsed to his knees: face hot, chest choking down the emotions that threatened to consume him. He clenched his eyes, coughing and gasping. A meek whimper gurgled from his jaw. I failed. Still he could see her; still he could hear the shared catastrophe of the Master Emerald. One hand shoved into his mouth, biting back the pain; the other slammed the ground while his heart beat like a war drum.
Enough, his mind snapped at the peak the tribal beat. Jaw locked, he looked at his hands, disgusted by this weakness, by these seconds of inaction. That girl was under his protection – he knew what had to be done.
I am guardian of Angel Island: Protector of the Controller and all under its realm. I will not be shaken!
That winged Siren was back. He knew his duty: Wage war upon all invaders. Retrieve the Master from the lava reef? He would die before she set her claws upon the Controller once more. And she will kill the girl unless I obey.
That weak, fragile burden of a girl…
He suddenly didn't care how mute or blind or lame she was. He didn't care how many times he had to correct her, how many instances he would have to protect her; he didn't care how much of his life he had to bleed away to keep her alive.
She was his burden, and no one would remove the joy she pained him with.
Knuckles dived into the trees, searching for the proper bush. He found the thick cluster he sought and waded to the ruby teleporter lens concealed beneath. He had the duty of heritage and love to fulfill.
He set the dials and vanished to the armories of Sandopolis …