Etiquette of Hunting a Rainbow
L'Arachel sat attentively atop her steed, not quite with the resolute vigilance of a worn and worldly warrior woman, but rather with the perky hyper-alertness of a small animal, like a squirrel who had recently been on an electrifying and sensational adventure involving a half-empty jug of rum and a half-full bottle of wine, except that she considered herself a divine teetotaler and her teeth didn't grow continuously.
Believing herself to be a beacon of light and hope for all who fought nobly on the battlefield, she sat erect and composed to let her true glory shine. She was, of course, the stateliest figure on the battlefield, but due to the clinging fog that saturated her view, she was also the only maiden she saw on the battlefield. The princess did not let this mere detail get in the way of her helpful attitude, though; she simply doubled her already superb efforts.
Nothing escaped her sharp gaze, not even the Elder Bael that loomed subtly ahead at twice her height. As a woman of action and principle, she shrieked courageously, "EEEEK! Do-Dozla! Get that thing away from me!"
A short man charged to her side, his shaggy black mane whipping in the wind like an abnormally hairy lion hunting down an armadillo. He hefted his ax, ready to hack the gosh-darned demon thing into pieces. But the Elder Bael lashed out deftly, striking the dwarf-like man aside, and advancing in an enormous step toward the princess.
"DOZLA!" she screamed, then something collided with her and her vision went black; as black as the time when she was in the middle of writing a charming letter to one of her many secret admirers, explaining to him that she was a holy woman and therefore could not allow him and the rest of the masses to throw themselves worshipfully at her feet, but then as she went to sign her name her arm knocked the ink well and black liquid spilled and splattered all over the paper and soaked into the wood of her desk and dripped onto her nicest laced skirt, and, oh! — how irritated she had been. It was just that color of black.
When she came to, she found herself dizzily seated on the ground, a puff of green remains swirling around her. She coughed on the putrid fumes of exploded spider legs and peered through the muddled cloud theatrically, her eyebrows knotted in deep concern and lips drawn down into a pink pout. "Dozla? I can only pray to the heavens above that you survived that atrocious attack! Where are you, Dozla?"
There was no reply. The haze began to settle and the smoke dispersed. A figure formed in the foul, arachnid-guts cloud, lean and hidden in a robe of dark indigo.
She blinked. "Hey, you're not Dozla."
"No, not really."
"Oh!" she exclaimed as suddenly her lost vassal hurdled to her side, laughing and out of breath, "thank goodness you're safe!" The heavy man wiped a green smear from his face happily.
"Gwah ha ha! Is it you I have to thank for dispatching that beast, Princess? I never knew you to be so strapping and robust!"
She pointed to the silent newcomer, who hung his head so that lavender hair wilted in his eyes. "If it was not you or I who slew the beast, it must have been him."
Dozla sized the man up. "Well, I'll be a stuck pig — it's a dark mage! Gwah ha! So it appears we have him to thank for our lives, Beautiful Princess of Peerless Beauty! While you were perfecting your banshee scream and I was tripping over my own three feet, this honorable lad saved us!"
She gave the man before her a disgusted look. "With... black magic?" She wrinkled her nose and addressed the sad-eyed magician. "Do yourself good, sir, and abandon your dreadful ways. Stay true to the path of virtue, like Dozla here and I, and your soul will surely be saved."
The shaman's empty eyes searched the ground. "Uh... You're welcome." He stuffed his hands into the deep pockets of his robes and uncomfortably bore their watchful eyes. He shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. "Well, I must be on my way now." Avoiding all eye contact, he shambled away into the mist.
L'Arachel paused to stare after him, then turned to her companion, flustered. "Why, of all the nerve. He reminds me of a lame antelope, but that man has the manners of a, a, well, a wildebeest!" She sniffed distastefully, as though picking up the scent of wet dog hair, and crossed her arms tightly.
"Gwah ha ha! A wildebeest indeed, Princess!"
"I mean," she went on, "he didn't even ask for my name. How uncivilized! When any sane person saves another from certain death, doom, and destruction, it's only polite to make the proper introductions. Something must be done about this." She nodded with the self-righteousness of a preacher perched at the pulpit, proclaiming that the people unplug perversity in all places.
Dozla agreed. "Well, shall we be on our way now?"
"Yes," she declared, stepping daintily around the vanishing spider corpse and climbing onto her horse. "After all, there are innocents to be saved and it seems the two of us are the only heroes around with enough etiquette to do the job!"
It felt as though his breathing remained as the only thing left in the dark forest. His chest rose and fell deeply, quickly. Hot breath spiraled up like dancing zombies. He opened his eyes and stared at the sky and a host of looming trees, a very few dull stars, and a great slate of shaded clouds, heaving a heavy sigh. That nightmare again.
Knoll sat up and buried his face in his hands, feeling the sweat roll down the sides of his palms and cling to his pale hair. When he was a child, he would have terrible recurring dreams about deranged, crazy things, like possessed donkeys and rabid vegetables. He even had this one dream where his mother, who had turned into a monstrous cantaloupe, accidentally ate him, and inside her fleshy fruit belly all sorts of gypsy fiends taunted him with Aloe Vera shampoo and conditioner.
But those were nothing compared to this dream.
The moment he fell asleep, all the wanly glowing spells in his memory jerked and twisted alive, mocking him all through the night with images of evil spirits and gloom. In his mind, a vast, murky temple took shape and was crowded with hundreds of bent scholars intent on research. At the head of the pack cringed Prince Lyon, and in the dream he croaked out commandingly, "Knoll, Knoll! I bid you come here!"
Though he felt sick and apprehensive at the sound of the prince's voice, like someone had tied his innards to the spokes of a wagon wheel and then proceeded to drive the vehicle away, he always came. "Yes, Prince Lyon?"
"I need to ask a favor of you. Well, two, actually. First, you must steal Lord Ephraim's prized sea shell collection."
Knoll winced. Talk about Mission Impossible.
"Secondly, I need you to clean the wax from my ears while I unleash the terrible beasts of death and darkness from within my country's Sacred Stone! Buahahahah!"
"NOOOOO!"
Knoll clutched his robes in fear as watery moonlight cast shadows across his features and his grimace tightened. There had to be some way to stop the madness growing in his mind. He was rattled, his body felt weary. Perhaps, all he needed was rest.
Rest and relaxation. He let himself fall back to the ground, eyes losing their horror and regaining their characteristic unresponsiveness. He just needed to unwind. His eyes closed. That was all there was to it…
"Hey you!"
His feet twitched. Knoll opened one eye. "Huh?"
"You!"
"What?" he asked the night.
A bright young face appeared beside his. "You're the one who saved us today." Her eyes flashed vibrantly, challenging. "Because or your" — she squeezed the phrase out with supreme difficulty — "most valiant efforts... I have come to say something to you."
"Is that so?"
"Of course. I have come to say..." Dramatically, she paused and bit her lip. "...that you never introduced yourself! What a dirty trick to play on a girl like me!"
Knoll frowned. "Oh, excuse me. I am Knoll."
The princess waited for a moment. Almost as though she expected him to burst out with some dark secret, like, I still sleep with a teddy bear! or, I read naughty magazines! "...Is that all?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Then, ah, allow me to introduce myself." She stood up and began her recitation with a flourish of her gloved arms. "I am called throughout the lands the illustrious 'Beautiful Princess of Peerless Beauty,' Princess L'Arachel of Rausten! My two sacred knights of goodness, Dozla the Kind and Rennac the Cranky, accompany me on my mission to purge the world of evil, allowing me to fight darkness without the slightest trouble. My gorgeousness is unmatched in all the lands — except maybe by Princess Eirika, and I really must speak to her about her beauty secrets... — and, anyway, my wonders know no bounds. I truly am the greatest girl you'll ever find."
She smiled in satisfaction, looking as though she expected him to fall to his knees in adoring worship.
"I see."
Looking only mildly disappointed, she asked, "Are you really just Knoll? There's nothing more to you? That sounds ever so dreary."
"I really am 'just Knoll.' I'm merely a druid, so I haven't a need for flamboyance."
"What a pity... You'd look much nicer if you just... you know, took better care of yourself."
Knoll raised an eyebrow. So said the girl with green hair.
"Rather than hide away in that ugly hood, I think you should get some sun. You have a lovely complexion, but it's so dry and pale! Given a little exposure, it would liven up nicely, so make sure you wear something less bulky in the morning."
He chuckled dryly, "I'd like to, Princess, but these are the standard robes of Grado researchers. And I don't think I really look that... bad..."
"Nonsense! You look terrible. Now you can just listen to me and do what I tell you to. By the way, I think you should have a better name. After all, a knoll is a little mound of dirt and you need something to make it interesting, something with pizzazz."
She knelt back down at his side, and he propped himself up, saying, "I appreciate the sentiment, but I rather like my name. It was given to me because it means 'to ring mournfully.' A special meaning I can't run from..."
"Oh, phooey. How about 'Knoll, the Watcher of Darkness'? No, that's too serious. 'Knoll, the Good Lookin' Cookin' Man of Eternal Beauty'? No, I don't want any competition. 'Knoll, the Fair and Glorious Enchanter'? Hmmm… I think that will do."
He coughed quietly. "Princess, I don't mean to spoil your fun—"
"And that's another thing! You are to call me L'Arachel, the Beautiful Princess of Peerless Beauty. After taking you under my wing, it's the least you could do for me. Is that clear?"
"...Umm, yes, O Beautiful Princess of Peerless Beauty..."
"Perfect! Then I shall be on my way. It was a pleasure to meet you, Knoll the Fair and Glorious Enchanter." She stood up, smiling in what Knoll thought looked an evil manner. "Oh, and the next time you run into a gorgeous princess, remember that it is courteous to introduce yourself. Sweet dreams!"
"Uh... right." He barely uttered a "good night" before the noblewoman vanished into impenetrable darkness. What an odd person... She rather reminded him of a small girl, cheery and talkative and bossy, but as innocent as a curious baby alligator after tearing out of its flimsy eggshell.
As she mounted her gallant steed, the ever-lovely Princess L'Arachel scoped the field for an audience and gave her best performance demonstrating the majesty and grandeur of a true princess. Rennac sulked around nearby, grumping about this and that, but oh no, she wouldn't let him ruin her poise, her dignity, her grace! She held her head proud and high, chin stuck out to remind her comrades of their lowly places.
And what a fine day to be a princess! Besides the battle ahead, life ambled on routinely, humming a little tune and often metaphorically kicking its heels. Across the land the air danced briskly in a field of blue, sheathes of grass swayed in dew-touched, supple ripples, and a wild Knoll roamed the meadows. L'Arachel targeted him with her keen radar and called most beguilingly, "Fair and Glorious Enchaaanteeeerr...!"
He continued to wander, seemingly ignoring her.
"H-how dare he! Why, you... KNOLL!"
Still the stooped, dark-coated man drifted on.
Princess L'Arachel folded her arms in irritation. "Hey, Rennac, why don't you go get his attention? Go pinch his arm or something, okay? Rennac? Rennac, where...?" She twisted furiously in her saddle, searching for her rogue. "You're gone, too? Well! Men are just so... so troublesome. But sometimes a marvelous lady such as myself must take matters into her own capable hands." She thumped her steed's side vigorously (so vigorously that the lively "taps" nearly knocked the wind out of the poor beast) and rode off into the field.
The shaman almost died of a heart attack when he saw her suddenly galloping straight toward him. She veered off before mowing him over, though, and responding to her amused grin, he said breathlessly, "This is the second time you've appeared out of nowhere. It's... rather unsettling..."
She tossed her head playfully. "But I've got to keep you in tip-top shape, Knoll!"
"Why's that?"
"Well," she said heavily, "I can't seem to find Dozla, and Rennac has abandoned this fair princess, so you are the best candidate for the job of protecting me." Her green eyes sparkled like the toxic, glowing, spinach-colored substances that thrive in haunted houses.
"Protecting you, huh..." He considered the proposition. "Well, you see, Beautiful Princess of Peerless Beauty, I think I'd rather spend time alone... I must think about certain matters."
"But no sane man would choose to fester by himself instead of basking in my presence! You obviously don't know what you're talking about. You must be delirious. Besides, if you sit around in a gloomy mood all the time, you'll turn into a wrinkly old man."
Knoll suppressed a smile. "It's troubling to hear that I am in danger of such a gruesome transformation."
"Oh yes," she continued seriously. "Divine inspiration has given me a theory connecting mind and body. You see, when there is trouble in a person's soul, it will affect their beauty. I am a refined and graceful lady of good taste, so that shows that my spirit is in excellent condition. You, on the other hand, seem very limp and droopy!"
"...Droopy..."
"Quite. Your hair is a very nice color, but it could be much more vibrant; likewise, your eyes could be just dazzling if you just smiled sometimes, and you definitely need more of a pink tint in your cheeks." She traced her fingers along the outline of her face to emphasize the point. "Get it? There must be something wrong with you." L'Arachel paused her lecture to notice the steady movement of troops across the plains, and made the necessary adjustments to follow them. "Come along, now."
"I do agree that there is something wrong with me," he intoned quietly, "But it surprises me that you can say it so boldly."
"People are lucky to have me around, aren't they? Days would just be dark and lonely otherwise..." She considered this with a contented sigh, imagining those close to her suffering and begging her to brighten their pathetic lives. She smiled prettily. "Anyway, according to my theory, you must have something weighing on your soul. As your keeper, it is my duty to command you to tell me what's wrong, so that I may call upon the powers of heaven to restore you to perfect happiness." That ought to show him her value as a benevolent and generous princess. Amused, she watched an expression of wonder grown on his face. At least, it looked like wonder.
Knoll shifted his gaze to the ground as they continued on their wildflower trail. "You do know that I was one of Princes Lyon's researchers, don't you?"
L'Arachel replied stoutly, "Of course." As well as beautiful, she was learned and informed.
"My fellow researchers and I worked with Prince Lyon in studying the Sacred Stone of Grado, and later the Dark Stone. The knowledge and unpleasant memories I gained in those days haunt me still... and as a result I carry a heavy burden on my heart."
"Like what?" she chirped.
The pain on his face, clearly visible, seemed to contort his soft, pasty skin. "Catastrophes... like none my homeland has ever seen. Our research allowed us to see into the future, which is a dark one of famine and distress. And what is a nation without fruit? And remnants of the Dark Stone torture me with nightmares."
"Nightmares, eh? Well, I know just the thing to help you! Stick by me and I'll keep evil away from you, okay? When you're in the presence of the Beautiful Princess of Peerless Beauty, not even a colossal, fire-spewing, wicked dragon will be able to hurt you."
He smiled a thin, lifeless smile; it made him look like a slab of roadkill that had just understood a hysterical joke the moment before its demise, its expression halfway between skepticism and laughter. "We shall see."
"You don't believe me? Watch! I'll cheer you up in no time at all. Now just let me think of something we can do..." She put her finger to her forehead, supposedly to stimulate thought. "Why, I know! You can help me practice."
"Practice... what?"
"Hunting, of course. You see, Princes Innes of Frelia and I have sort of this competition going on. I argue that Rausten is clearly the more wonderful of the two countries in every aspect, but he challenges me at every turn. To confront a lady so — the nerve! Oh, but one of our skirmishes was fought over the topic of hunting. With all of the hearty beasties that heaven has supplied us with, my country is obviously superior. However, I must say that I'm not too familiar with the actual practice of hunting..."
"..."
"Don't worry yourself about the details," she sang confidently. "After all, in previous practices Rennac has been my fox. If he can do it, you can too!"
In the silent, golden dawn a single note pierced the air. As it blasted from Dozla's horn, the clear sound echoed vigorously across the land. It swept across the fields as a giant axe of triumph, and when it reached Knoll's ears, he jumped in fear and began running as fast as he could. Without the bulk of his robes he found movement much easier, but the wind felt strange on his bare, skinny legs and he began to wonder just what in the world he was doing with a bushy tail flitting out the top of his pants.
He sprinted in giddy terror; the woes of his past wiped from his mind, its only function being to survive L'Arachel's no doubt frightening pursuit. Through the splintering of branches and mighty thwacks of leaves, he heard her voice yell gleefully after him.
"The heavens will guide me to you, Knoll! I'm going to find you and bring you to the light!"
"Gwah ha ha! Ah ha ha ha! HA HA HA HA HA! So you're saying you had a good time of it?" Dozla bellowed laughter and slapped his thick thighs like a percussionist. Tears of mirth ran from the corners of his jolly eyes into his beard, but he made no effort to wipe them away. "You put up a great chase, sir! Ha ha ha!"
Knoll almost blushed but did not, because it would have made him look like a rather alien carrot, with the springy, green leaves instead a sickly pale purple and the healthy orange a washed-out pink. Obviously, the color scheme wouldn't have worked. "At first, the idea was rather unnerving," he explained. "But Princess L'Arachel is a most extraordinary girl..."
"She certainly is!" Dozla chortled, dabbing his eyes and beginning to poke at their lively campfire with a stick. His face lit up in a blaze of red as he grinned. "That one's dearer to me than a daughter, she is. It does me good to see you getting along so well with her."
The dark mage nodded, his eyes bright with memories. "That is one event I won't soon forget..."
"She always has that effect on people. Some may find her blunt, but she is a magical girl! Gah ha ha!" The buff man put down his twig and reclined on the earth. "What a day!" He closed his eyes and heaved pleased sigh.
"Indeed," Knoll agreed. "And she fulfilled her mission." Then he fell silent, imagining a deep sleep not of nightmares, but dreams of a merry chase through thick and intricate woods. Her happy cries and steed's pounding pursuit filled his ears and he tasted dirt in his mouth when he fell; he didn't care, though, with excitement and fear pumping through his body, he felt as though he had just been born into a new life. Her horse charged up beside him and she leaned out, leaned over, and smacked him one on the head. ...He fell to the ground, landing in a bed of crackling yellow leaves. In the dream, he opened his eyes and she stood over him, a satisfied smirk of victory parading on her face.
"Gotcha!"
Knoll shook himself. It certainly had been an interesting day. However, he couldn't let himself forget the calamity of the past. As an angst-ridden shaman, it was his duty to be as emo and tragic as possible. He only needed time to thin... L'Arachel was determined to push him into the present, but he still had one foot planted firmly in the past. That foot couldn't stop him from appreciating her, though, could it? After all, it was only a limb; the worst it could do was foul up the past with unpleasant odors and athlete's foot.
"Dozla."
The burly man had been dozing; now he snorted and coughed awake. "Huh? Yeah?"
"I'd like to thank Princess L'Arachel for her efforts... Could you suggest an appropriate gift?"
Dozla strained to sit up, chuckling under his breath. When fully upright, he began to stroke his beard thoughtfully. "I'd have to say... Gwah hah, give her a kiss!"
"Wh-what...!"
"Ha ha ha! Don't worry, nothing serious! Just a peck on the cheek, sir! She might slap you, but she really would enjoy it!"
"B-but, I haven't really done anything like that since I was a boy..." Knoll ducked his head, imagining what the other researchers in Grado would say. Nothing appropriate for the ears of young children, of course...
"Gwah ha ha! Knoll, you have to remember that she is a girl!"
"I-I know that!" he sputtered.
"Then treat her like one. She'll like it, really!" Dozla laughed to himself as he turned away, curling back up into a hairy clump of sleeping man. "Her meeting with Princess Eirika and Prince Ephraim will be finishing soon, so maybe you can catch her when she comes back to camp... zzzz..."
"But..." Knoll shrugged into his bulky cloak to hide, fighting the urge to assume in a fetal position.
"...You might want to... zzz... practice on your arm... gwah... ha... zzz..."
Footsteps began to echo through the quiet camp. Alerted, Knoll sat up straight and shoved his arm back into his broad pocket, a blush fading on his cheeks. He peered into the darkness, his stomach twisted up not with fear of phantoms and Prince Lyon and nail polish, but rather with a rather adolescent fear of girl. Fires sprouted in the ground as little gems around the encampment; a shadow passed in front of one.
He gulped. It was imperative that he keep his cool. He whispered, his voice hoarse, "Does the Beautiful Princess of Peerless Beauty cross this way?"
"It is I," she called imperiously and a little too loud. "Who summons this messenger of divine authority?"
"A tired fox, milady."
She stumbled past a few sleeping figures, conjuring up mystical responses such as, "Watch where you're going, ya bum," and eventually coming to crouch beside her newest vassal, her eyes intense in the firelight. "Ah! It is Knoll. You should be asleep, O Fair and Glorious Enchanter; according to the twins we're to battle tomorrow."
"I wanted to speak with you," he said earnestly.
"Oh, with little old me? Well, out with it."
"I have been thinking about the theory you told me. About strong souls and bodies. In return, I have an idea to present to you..."
She nodded. Her face was vivid and dramatic. Like a sparring match between rainbow seahorses. "Go on, O Wildebeest of the Dark Night."
"..." He blinked, but accepted the strange title. "...As I was saying, I have a theory on souls. I believe that every person has a crystal in his or her heart," he said, holding a fist to his chest, "and every facet of that crystal represents a human characteristic. There exists the same emotion in every person, yet in varying degrees. You and I both may experience self-confidence, but at different times in different amounts, so we have that similarity as humans. But the most important principle of my belief — is the color of a person's heart."
The princess listened with a thoughtful expression, processing his words and comparing them to her own version of the soul. "The color, you say?"
"Yes. This color is reflected from the crystal into every aspect of the person's life. It's sort of like an underlying theme to life." He sighed deeply and continued, "Until recently, I felt my color was black: the shade of death and emptiness, of knowledge and betrayal. But then, I met you."
She beamed proudly. "And how has your life changed magnificently for the better?"
Knoll twiddled his thumbs. "Now... I feel that I am a very peculiar shade of green..."
A snort sounded from the dark form of Dozla. It sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
L'Arachel giggled, also. "Green? How come? And tell me, what color am I?"
"Uh... Well, I believe myself to be green because... before I felt loneliness was destroying me, but now I see that one can interact but still be comfortable and pensive. Like the trees of the forest you hunted me in, for example... I can grow in unison with you and still be me."
"Yes, yes, yes, but what color am I?"
He smiled a little and said, "Yellow."
"Really?" she gasped in fascination.
"When I look at you, I see a pretty, bold, and exciting person. I think, 'Princess L'Arachel is unafraid to serve the light and has dedicated her life to a journey.' It suffices to say that you are the most intriguing girl I have ever met..."
"I'm pleased that you appreciate me," she exclaimed. "Most people don't understand my potential."
Shifting uneasily, Knoll murmured, "Princess L'Arachel?"
"Yes?"
He pulled at the collar of his cloak nervously. "I don't know how to go about this... But I would like to say thank you for hunting me down today. It helped to focus my mind on other things, and... to speak the truth, Princess, I find your brashness rather endearing..." He laughed quietly, thunderbolts slamming through his body. Which is not too bad, because dark magic is strong against anima. "So..."
Knoll clasped and unclasped his hands, glancing sideways at her. He put one hand on the ground between them and leaned over on the weight of his arm, cheeks as red as cherry tomatoes. The dark mage coughed a little, studied the gently illumined ground, and kissed her on the cheek.
Tee hee.
Then L'Arachel, of course, jumped about fifteen feet in the air, screaming, "SEXUAL HARRASSMENT!" with the lungs of the Demon King on steroids.
"U-uhh... umm..."
Dozla pretended to be asleep, faking a snore to cover his laughter.
"AAAAIIEEE! He just touched me!"
"Princess... would you please... could you..."
"KNOLL! I can imagine other men attempting such an appalling act, but I never suspected you! YOU, of all people!"
"Oh..."
"Princess L'Arachel, please allow me to explain..."
By now, half the camp was up and looking around in a frenzied half-consciousness for a criminal or murderer; chaos burst from tents like exploding melons and people were trampled in the commotion to catch the culprit. L'Arachel continued on her tirade unaffected.
"You used all of that profound talk about souls and emotion to lure me over to you," the princess jabbered hysterically, "so you could take advantage of me in such a crude manner!"
"You see, I just wanted to thank you for being considerate..."
"Thank me...? But... but... you just... how improper..."
Knoll scooted away, thoroughly frightened. "I'm sorry, my princess..."
"H-hold on!" She caught the hood of his cloak, twisting the fabric between her fingers anxiously. It felt like the fur of a dead cat. "It's just that... I mean, back in the forest your robes were gone... and you were rather... attractive..." She sniffled. "...Even if you have skinny legs..."
He hesitated.
"I... I'm..." She laughed softly. "I'm normally more eloquent than this... You seem to have caught me off guard, Knoll. But... you don't need to leave...!"
It was then that Princess Eirika stumbled into their area of the camp, holding a torch. Concern flickered across her face in short flashes of firelight as others scrambled around and crashed into each other in the deep night. "Did you hear that scream? Is everyone fine? Are you okay?"
The two of them stood up, both finding something captivating on the ground to look out. L'Arachel initially tried to convey her explanation through a series of desperate hand gestures, but she finally said in exasperation, "No, I'm not fine."
"What happened? Are you hurt?"
She shook her head solemnly, green locks bouncing on her shoulders. Turning to clasp Knoll's thin and fearfully shaking body, she cried emotionally, "Eirika... I think... that this is the wildebeest for me!"
Knoll fainted dead away in her arms.
"Zzz... gwah ha ha... zzzz... ha ha!"
The End.
Heh... So that's it. This is an entry for the little contest that Holyknightsteve, Hoshiko Shinomori, and I are holding. It's going to end the last day of July, so if you'd like to take a stab at your own crack one-shot, please hurry. I advise that you do try, because 1) it's super fun and really cracked out, and 2) there's nothing better than a little Vaida x Lucius action.
If you'd like to read the entry rules, please see Holyknightsteve's story, Emblem of Hearts, or my profile.
Have a nice day!