To Spiked Dragon: I'd love to work on Shovels/shields and switch! S is just chock-full of fun things!
To Monkey999Boy: Awww D: And yes, it is serious. Honestly, do not do anything in the fight against the Plague of Shadows. Get yo' hands off the keyboard or controller. It'll say something and give up haha
Also, to clarify, since someone directly asked me a few days ago. In this AU(probably?), I mentioned the countries of France, Germany, and Japan. England probably does, too. However, medieval history does not necessarily apply. The religion is more or less a worship of the 'yacht gods' if you haven't picked that up yet… lol. The stories here are mostly set in the Kingdom of Pridemoor, a completely fictional country from the game. I'm welcome to questions and suggestions! 'Tis my divine duty to fix what is unclear for you, my dear readers.
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K is for king.
King Knight went out for a peaceful walk one day. Surveying his fiefs and sovereign was so relaxing for a true monarch like him. The day's military parade was already stressing him, even if the parade would be held later.
Little did he know that a certain specter with a penchant for stalking and learning potentially destructive information for his ever-growing need for tools in psychological warfare followed him closely in the bushes. King Knight had no care at all in the world as he took in the sight of wonderful land, all rightfully his to rule.
After some time, the usurper came across a gorgeous woman, whose light brown hair looked softer than the best silk and flew in the air like the flags of his kingdom. She was seated on the grass, hugging her knees and quietly enjoying the afternoon wind. Her dress was emerald green, decorated with gold embroidery at the hems of her sleeves and skirt. She looked like a noblewoman. She must be a duchess or a baroness, he thought.
I'll make you my queen, milady.
King Knight plotted. If he wooed a woman to be his queen, then he would be able to effectively fight back Propeller Knight's jeers at his unsuccessful flirting! That wine bastard! Always getting the ladies! And bragging about it all the time!
King Knight sauntered to the seated woman and snuck up on her. Her shoulders stiffened when he spoke to her lowly and, horrifyingly, seductive. "My lady, you are marvellous, even from here. I have fallen for your effortless beauty. Pray tell, what is thy name? I know it sounds like birds chirping lovely melodies in the trees!" He tried recalling one of the corny lines Propeller Knight always used with the ladies that worked all the time.
The lady put her hand up to her lips and giggled as quietly as she could. He beamed.
"Flattered, my lady?" King Knight proudly waved his wrist around. "I think I have enough charm like that French guy in my team."
"Oh, King Knight," 'she' turned 'her' head to see King Knight's horrified face at the sound of lilting voice and the sight of hazel eyes, sculpted face, and perfect white teeth in an all-too-familiar French grin, "do you really think I'm beautiful?"
He shut his gaping mouth and shook his head wildly. "Shut up, bedswerver!" King Knight cursed, shielding his ears from the Frenchman's annoying laugh, praying silently for the gods to let him just wither away to ashes then and there. When the yacht gods expressed disapproval at his fervent prayers and threw his pleas in a holy trash can, King Knight immediately hightailed out of there, tears of embarrassment running down his puffy cheeks.
"The très bien moi wants an embrace!" Propeller Knight jokingly said as he chased the sobbing monarch, his green tunic flapping in the wind much like a woman's skirt. "Come here!"
From the safety of the bushes, the apparition started to chuckle. As quiet as a mouse, he crawled away from the general area, leaves and twigs stuck on his cloak. Just imagine, when the time comes, he would cite this incident to everyone and make King Knight completely humiliated! How evil, how satisfying, how disturbing! 'There was a pretty girl, so King Knight hit on her. But then, it was Propeller Knight in a long tunic!' How amusing!
The apparition then thought of his next target: the growing insurrection's leaders. Just a way to stop being bored, more or less.
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K is for kneel.
The ghost didn't entirely expect that he would take a round trip to the nearby village then back to the castle. He also didn't expect they would mix in too well in the crowd of Pridemoor's citizens under King Knight's rule. The tight cluster of life forces in one place confused him, so he had to resort to joining the living.
Disguising himself as human again, he followed the crowd of Pridemoor's coerced citizens, walking with the nobles. He did attract some attention with his flashy red garments - with a wide scarlet hat on his head, a fancy coat fit for a high noble like a duke, a height of six and a half feet, and sunshine gold hair neatly tied at the back of his head with a white band and some stray strands framing the face of an angel, who wouldn't notice? But then I am more of a demon, he told himself as a group of youthful ladies made their presence known to him by moving close to him and blushing. I am neither an angel nor an ideal Prince Charming.
He nonchalantly wedged himself away from them and refocused his mind on looking for the insurgency leaders. In the sea of peopl, he attempted to single out the two leaders' faces. The man and older sibling had thick brows, steel gray eyes, square jaw, a bit of five o'clock shadow, and dirty blond hair. He was supposed to be dressed in gray armor with a yellow cape indicating his high status within King Knight's forces. The younger sibling had brown eyes and matching dark brown hair. Knight inched to the outer edges of the stream of civilians, trying to find the man in the group of knights.
He immediately saw him leading a platoon of knights, and he smirked. The two-faced man, called Siegfried by name but One within the ranks of the rebels, rode his horse proudly. The apparition caught his gaze and noticed something hidden behind the windows of his soul.
They're planning something, he thought to himself.
He looked at the squads behind the man, and noticed the uneasy and impatient postures and expressions. Some frowned, some were sweating. He furrowed his brows.
"Excuse me," Specter Knight politely said to a peacock man, quite surprised at the sound of his human voice, "what is the exact occasion?"
"Today's the military parade. The major commanders of Pridemoor's army would have to take their oaths of allegiance again." The peacock gent answered.
Oh. He let out a small chuckle. Alright. "Thank you very much."
The crowd stopped. Specter Knight watched the parade of soldiers march proudly with their pikes, halberds, swords, and staffs. Horsemen boasted their lances. The entire battalion of knights went into formation before the covered bleachers.
Specter Knight eyed his teammate seated like a Roman emperor on the balcony. He looked like he had gotten over his mishap with Propeller Knight earlier that day, and seemed excited to look at his army. Sizeable, well-armed, about to swear allegiance to him. Ripe for the sacrificing.
As soon as everyone got in place, King Knight stood. When he walked to the edge of the balcony, the knights knelt in front of him. Specter Knight couldn't help but notice how every soldier behind Siegfried knelt with their right knee up and hand on the handles of their sheathed swords. He cast a projection of himself beside One immediately.
King Knight took a scroll from one of his slaves and read out its contents. "Repeat after me. I, state thy name, in order to establish…"
"Dammit Irma," He heard Siegfried whisper, "you conceived the plan, where's the signal?"
"Siegfried… and Irma…" Specter Knight whispered to himself. "What beautiful names."
He looked up at the roof over the balcony, and saw a figure there. A black hood, navy blue cape with gladiolus flowers, spear and sword crossed over it. The figure carried a small rock, and held it over the usurper.
Before he could string together a thought, he was cut off by the rising tension within the crowd of noblemen and commoners. In his view, literally every man with a coat reached into their breast pockets or belts. Every woman pushed their children away and formed a circle around their young. Everyone looked like they were preparing. He turned himself invisible to the living and reverted back to his phantom form. He floated up and to the balcony to see everything.
"... do swear to uphold this oath-"
The rock was dropped onto King Knight's shoulder plate. It created a small dent and smudge on his golden armor.
"What is that?" He looked up to the roof, only to be greeted by Five's malicious grin. She immediately stood and ran down the roof, avoiding the arrows shot at her. One of them grazed her cheek, and she dove behind cover.
Every soldier under One unsheathed their weapons in unison. Lancers and footmen alike surrounded the balcony area, entering into a riot with King Knight's partisans. Blood spilled on stone slabs, and shouts filled the air.
"Free the rightful king! Down with the pretentious usurper!"
"This is not real!" King Knight cried, clawing his hands on his puffy face. His brows knitted together in fury and his cheeks turned red. "An insurgency of chaos! In my kingdom! Arrest all rebels, toss them into the dungeons and lose the keys!"
The apparition stayed invisible on the balcony. He watched the rebels quickly win their first skirmish, the peasants and the wealthy successfully repelling incoming loyalists to the usurper. He looked at the leaders of the rebel army, praising their competence and wits in his own mind. He relished in the sight of the bloody revolt below him, the rebels striking down every warrior, every noble, every man and woman bribed by the usurper. Screams of terror from the dishonest split the day, cheers from the noncombatants drove the liberators, and the fighters shouted their declaration of victory.
He tilted his head out of habit, immediately thinking of the Lich Yard. He would be their enemy, knowing that the Yard only existed because he had invaded and… murdered every single soul unlucky enough to stay behind the evacuating residents. Someday, he would face either One or Five.
One, whose name was Siegfried, the two-faced commander of the armed forces who revealed his true colors as a loyal soldier to the deposed king and as a rebel against King Knight. His sister, Five, whose name was Irma, the bringer of chaos that sparked the insurgency against the current monarchy.
They would one day face him, in a battle for his territory, if he would keep it or lose it. A battle of strength against One, and a game of wits with Five. Maybe a little bit of playing with the others.
In short, it is something to do!
A wide grin found its way to his lips.
It is a beautiful day, is it not?
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K is for kettle.
Day 6, in the middle of nowhere
The Order of No Quarter, somehow punished by the Enchantress for loss of teamwork, spent an eternity together on that fucking island. Actually, it was just for a couple of months, but it was already eternity for most of them.
The first one to lose it was, unsurprisingly but worryingly, Propeller Knight, as shown by his happy frog-hunting activities and rambling about his German subordinate who may or may not have mutinied in his airship. The first one to be lost is Plague Knight, and no one knows where the bird man went. Nobody cared. Everyone did care about King Knight's noisy complaints, Specter Knight's unsettling excitement, and Tinker Knight's overworking imagination.
A sharp peal split the otherwise tranquil morning. The knights rose from their slumber quite angrily, rushing out of their palm leaf tents to investigate the noise.
"What crap is making that sound?!" Treasure Knight bellowed while everyone emerged from their shelters. All but Propeller Knight stared at the odd contraption built on the shore. He had spotted a big frog hopping by the wild bushes near the palm trees. Silence ensued, except for the sharp whistle, the waves of the sea crashing down on the shore, the wind blowing, and a quiet 'ohonhonhon'.
"Tinker Knight." Polar Knight called out to the frozen inventor by the sea. Tinker Knight spun around happily. Dark circles were already under his eyes, making his grin look unsettling.
"Want fresh water?" He placed a leafy cup under a faucet and twisted the cross shaped thing above it. Water flowed from the faucet and into the cup. "I made a device that converts seawater into freshwater! I installed a filter made of palm wood…"
The rest of the knights tuned out the engineering jargon that came out of the inventor's mouth afterwards. Treasure Knight took it as an opportunity to fix the tangled chains in his anchor arm. Polar Knight gained a sudden interest in a nearby coconut tree. Specter Knight started to swish his cloak in an effort to make it billow a bit more. Mole Knight sat down on the sand and began drawing a couple of houses and seven stick people with the Order's distinct weapons. King Knight started whistling nonchalantly.
"... and voila! A giant kettle with a filter! Drink this! It's great!" He held out the cup of water
Polar Knight wordlessly took the cup, sipped from it, and thought about it. "Refreshing. Good work."
"Everyone will live!" King Knight dramatically declared, picking up the tiny man and squishing him in an embrace.
"Feed this to Propeller Knight." Polar Knight gestured pitifully to the Frenchman, who had somehow built a bonfire in the span of a few minutes and was already roasting a frog above it. "I think this will restore his sanity."
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K is for knit.
This room was the warmest place in the Stranded Ship. It was just a small chamber with a tiny fireplace. There was a big chair by the corner and an old drawer table stood beside it. The drawers were full of yarn with assorted colors. Polar Knight pulled one out and gathered a substantial amount of red and yellow yarn.
When he pulled out all of the red yarn, something came along with it. It was an unfinished scarf. He recalled that the scarf was his first attempt at one. Polar Knight let out a thoughtful "hmm".
He pulled out the scarf from tangled yarn. It was already intricately decorated with different golden snowflakes, and it was yet to be knitted to a proper length.
'Shovel Knight and I are going to this crummy old tower next month. The King of Pridemoor has enlisted us as champions, by the way. Isn't that lovely?'
The Stalwart chuckled at the letter. Shield Knight was still as chipper as ever even after going to several battles. He could actually hear her voice in his head. Her cheerfulness never waned in any situation, and he admired the lady for her strength.
'He says it's called the Tower of Fate. It's a nice name for a twisted tower. I wonder what my fate would be in there.'
"Ah, you little girl." Polar Knight smiled at the words. "Always curious. Always quirky."
'We would have to purge the tower of its evil. Like usual. I'm going on another adventure again. But before that, it's springtime here. It's pretty nice to see so much life, but I miss the snow. I'll probably be back for vacation sometime in the winter. I just hope Shovel Knight would be amicable for a short visit! Love, Shield Knight.'
"He will be happy to come back." Polar Knight put the letter down. He grabbed his favorite red yarn and looked for his needles. "Because you say so."
He sighed deeply at the memory. It was her last letter to him before he learned of her fate in the Tower. He sat down on the chair and continued working on the scarf.
'I'll probably be back for vacation sometime in the winter.'
"I'll get you out of there." He murmured quietly. "Black Knight is looking for a way. And then you'll have the vacation you want."
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K is for knuckle.
"Grrds. Darmmrrt." Treasure Knight cursed at his metal gauntlet, wiggling his hand out of it. "My krrckles! Strrck!"
"You need to have that fixed now." Tinker Knight flatly said.
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K is for kick.
"Plague Knight!" Mona called out with a smile on her face, rubbing her swollen tummy. Plague Knight burst off of the tall ladder he was on and landed in front of the pregnant woman. An odd thought crossed his mind as his feet touched the stone floor. I think I just went to bed a few minutes ago…
"Yes?"
"It's kicking." She beamed. He happily placed his hand on her belly, feeling a powerful foot kick. She winced a little, but chuckled lightly. She caressed her baby bump affectionately.
"We've got a healthy baby in there, hee!" He grinned at his crush for so many years. The grin disappeared when two arms draped over his shoulder.
"Oui, my child is healthy!"
"WHAT?!" He screeched, pushing the Frenchman off of him.
Plague Knight's eyes opened, only to see a Frenchman's face within inches from the tip of his nose, brows furrowed in concern for him. He snarled and proceeded to twist on his bed, flailing his arms and legs up violently. He clawed at Propeller Knight's neck, but the Frenchman grabbed him by his hips and held him away from him. Plague Knight's short arms could not reach the man's throat, so he settled on pounding his fists weakly on his arms.
"I knew something about you makes me uncomfortable around you!" He accused furiously. "You made Mona pregnant, you knave!"
"What on earth are you talking about, mon ami?" Propeller Knight gawked, glancing back to the tall woman by the door. His German underling's jaw almost fell off at the accusation.
"I don't know! Something about you doesn't sit in well for me, and you-"
"Plaguey." Mona's stern voice silenced the furious alchemist. She walked to his bedside and took the blabbering bird from their French acquaintance. She set him on her lap and wrapped him tightly in her arms. "I'm not pregnant."
"B-but-"
"It's a nightmare, sweetie." Mona ruffled his hair. "Nothing happened."
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K is for key.
The hedgehog pupil wept as he held the picture of his parents close to his chest. "Why did Plague Knight have to blow the house up?" He lamented, tears falling down his face. "He's so mean and… and not nice…"
He held the picture out again to look at his late mother and father. They had supported him and understood his affinity for alchemy, but they died in a carriage accident. His lips quivered at the sight of the charred edges of the portrait, but at least it wasn't blown up with the rest of the house. He examined the charred edges sadly, until he caught a bright gleam in the grass. He knelt to investigate it, and picked up the object.
It was a small rod with a circular end. It was silver in color, but red rust had marred its beautiful luster. The rod had teeth, intricately carved and filed for locks protecting against lockpicks.
Then it hit him hard with the subtle grace of a yacht.
"Holy ship…" he gasped. He looked back at his smiling parents and wept harder. "Mom, Dad, I'm so sorry!"
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K is for kiss.
"Oh, mademoiselle, you are radiant today." Propeller Knight once again tried to flirt with Mona. He bowed and took her hand in his. Magenta dusted Mona's cheeks.
Cue violent explosion in 3…
"Oh, how charming." Mona grinned from ear to ear, glancing to the two men behind him. The smaller one started trembling and shaking, and the other was happily anticipating what would happen next.
2…
"It's a pleasure to meet you again." Propeller Knight kissed her hand softly. His lithe hands ghosted from her arm and to her hot cheeks.
1…
"Get off of her, you!" Plague Knight screeched, aiming for the beak of his staff to hit and smash the Frenchman's skull in and hopefully get him six feet under. Albrecht silently cheered for the jealous bird.
Propeller Knight dropped Mona's delicate hand and jumped back with a gasp when the little angry alchemist swung his cane at him. The sheer surprise of the Spin Controller sent him tumbling down to the polished floor. The furious bird hopped over and sat on the Frenchman's hip, smacking the latter repeatedly and rapidly. And Propeller Knight could not do anything but accept the punishment and curl into an overdramatic crying ball on the ground.
"Staff! Of! Striking!" Plague Knight hollered as he ruthlessly bashed his friend. "Stop! Hitting! On! My! Girl-"
"Désolé! Désolé!" Propeller Knight cried, summoning sparkling tears to roll down his face. "Aidez-moi! Albrecht!"
"Haha, how about nein. Plague Knight!" The Hoverhaft with schadenfreude aimed at only the Frenchman called out gleefully. "Do zhis for me, alright? Shove zhat stick up his a-"
"Non!" Propeller Knight screamed in pain. "Don't do what he says!"
Plague Knight slapped his cheek with an open hand. "Hnn!"
"Arrête!"
Thus, history was written when a flirtatious French noble cried shimmering tears of pain while a small bird man brutally smacked him with his staff, and in the scene stood an overjoyed German knight laughing hard at the plight of his best friend and a tall statuesque stunner dismissing the entire ordeal as harmless bickering.
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K is for knife.
Once upon a time, Treasure Knight and Mole Knight teamed up to drill to an underwater cavern that was marked as a treasure trove. Instead of a treasure trove, however, it was a ruins of a metropolis that had no true name. It was a very large cave with its own peculiar climate – there was a cold area, waterfall, a patch of land that was several degrees hotter, and a grand castle at the heart of the city. The castle extended upwards to the ceiling of the cave. The two knights went on.
Despite the ruins' lack of life, the two started feeling very uneasy when they found several big piles of dust in the most odd of places. They found clumps of dust on tables and chairs, in libraries, in laboratories (especially the largest laboratory, where the dust moved like slime), in beds, beside unreadable signs on the walls. In the last grand hallway before what looked like the throne room was a single cluster of ashes drenched in sweet-smelling red substance. The hallway's pillars were littered with single marks of something sharp, and some of the pillars seem like being blasted away violently. Only the digging team's voices could be heard, but at least they remedied that creepy atmosphere of the entire place.
On the topmost floor was a single relic. Bones of a young child lying on his or her back, a worn dagger clasped in the right hand and a pretty metal pendant tied around the neck. It wore a striped yellow and green shirt, somehow still clean despite the area's dirtiness.
"I don't think we should touch that thing!" Mole Knight exclaimed. "I've been to a particularly unsettling archaeological find," the anthropologist winced at the memory of the eight mutilated bodies, "and this one feels bad!"
"Hrr drr." Treasure Knight mocked as he stepped over to take the pendant. As soon as his hand came in contact with the heart-shaped pendant, two pinprick red eyes glowed from the skeleton's eye sockets. And both of them noticed. Then they scrambled for the exit when it started gaining flesh. The remains of the child bolted upright, the flesh of the face showing a permanently curled up mouth. Its cheeks were pink, and its expression unsettlingly sunny. The hand holding the worn dagger shot up towards the ceiling.
"Greetings."
"I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH THAT THING!"
"RRRM SURRY!"
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K is for knight.
"Oof!" The blue-eyed child yelped when he landed on the snow on his butt. His lips quivered as his brown eyed friend laughed at him. His cackle was squeaky and annoying, but he offered his hand to his fallen friend.
"I have you, buddy!" He proudly beamed his cheerful smile.
Something knocked at the back of his mind. A memory, perhaps?
"You aren't going to be accepted if you sleep around and doze!" The Stalwart, or maybe the Worst Drill Sergeant Ever, barked at the young disciples of his art. He paced around the training room, hands on the small of his back. He observed the trainees sparring against each other with dummy shovels and leather armor.
"YOU!" He shouted at the two young and short trainees who seemed to have fallen in love with the concept of distance. "Spar closer! The enemy is a dirty being, for he will never think of courtesy in the skirmishes! War is uncivilized!"
The two, almost identical in height and drive for entering the Order of Shovelry, paused and bowed in front of the Stalwart. He let out a thoughtful 'hmph' when those two students immediately followed his order, crossing shovels with their feet and bodies closer.
Shovel Knight awoke in the middle of the night, feeling a heavy object on his shoulder. He roused and yawned a bit, stretching his tired arms up.
Just a few hours ago, he had planted the last shovel drop on the enemy's top. He remembered shouting for his partner to follow him through an escape route. He remembered being shot down by magic, remembered exactly how searing heat and icy cold mixed together with sweet pain and agonizing tenderness. Colors flooded his vision in streams. It was the most confusing and the most frightening moment of his life.
When he tried to move his left arm, he couldn't. The shovelrous knight cracked tired eyes open. He was immediately greeted with the friendly sight of a tall red helmet snugly strapped to a woman's head.
"Today, we test how ready you are to enter the Order of Shovelry." The Worst Drill Sergeant Ever turned Best Fatherly Teacher In World History announced. The novices gasped, exclaiming their discontent and surprise.
"The enemy strikes at unpredictable times." A short student, his leather armor red with obsidian highlights, stated firmly. He shut up the entire class with his firm statement. "Victory comes when you are mentally and physically prepared."
The teacher nodded silently. "Look at him. He is ready."
"I'm not." He shrank in his chair and sulked, earning a disappointed glare from the Stalwart.
"You are an idiot." The short student's best friend and rival in sparring whispered from behind him. He wore blue leather armor, matching his eyes. His cerulean orbs twinkled with friendly mischief, while the other disciple wanted to smack him in the face.
"Shield Knight?"
The lady in red stirred awake, as peacefully as a fish rippling pond water. "Hmm?"
"Is this… are you real?"
"Tower's down." She sleepily replied. "I want to sleep."
Her simple words warmly tugged at the long-strained strings of his heart. It was her firm yet tender voice that confirmed to him that it really was her lying beside him. He snuggled closer in content.
"Hey, Shovel Knight!"
The entire class turned around to face the dwarfish teen 'knight' in red and black armor with a curious glance. The zealous brilliance in brown eyes disappeared as he felt the gazes of his classmates on him.
"Sorry, I meant him." He gestured ineptly at his friend, who was in front of a mirror and vainly posing in his new blue and gold armor. The new recruit that was just called 'Shovel Knight' glowered.
"Hello."
His creamy brown eyes gleamed happily. He raised his pinky up. "Can we make a promise, buddy?"
His brow raised. "What's that?"
"She taught me this is how people make a promise." His happy face faded. "And if we break it, the breaker-"
"The one who broke the promise…" He corrected. He swooned inwardly at the thought of just who 'she' referred to.
"... will have to cut his pinky off."
The 'knight' in blue shook his head in disappointment. "After all these years of friendship… you only learned of that now… you know you're an idiot, right?"
"I just want to be friends with you until our last moments!"
"That, I can promise." He put his pinky up. With that gesture, the brown-eyed initiate curled his own pinky finger around the other's in a death grip.
"What happened?"
She raised a hand languidly. "Enchantress blew you up."
"I'm sure I'm not in bloody pieces."
"Hah. You win."
As both ranked up in the Order of Shovelry, the little blue knight could sense his friend's general aura changing drastically.
The knight in black had changed so much that he basically turned into a different person. His constantly cheerful demeanor got lost in the flow of time, becoming an overly serious individual. It came to a point that any ghost of a smile never appeared, or if anything tugged at the corners of his lips he turned and stormed away.
His once friendly brown eyes became dull and fiery, inviting terror in other students. His sparring tactics became ruthless and unforgiving, following the code of training literally, word for word. The other students of shovelry were understandably frightened to the bones when they had picked his name from the drawlots bowl. It came to a point that disciples dropped out not in dislike of the art and teachings of Shovelry, but in fear of who they called 'the Black Knight'.
"What happened to you?" He asked the infamous disciple. After letting his guard down for him to get struck down, he uttered those words. His former friend only glowered at his 'friend' on the floor.
"I'm going to be the best in the Order." He crossed his arms. "Don't get in my way."
"I'm not in the heavenly care of the gods, right?"
"I think we're both alive." She chuckled. "My arm hurts."
Too sleepy to realize what she actually meant with her last sentence, he decided to just close his eyes. "You saved me?"
As expected but not looked forward to, Shovel Knight found him already before the Tower's entrance door, shovel firmly within his grasp. Black Knight's midnight colored helmet barely concealed the hostile snarl marring his face. The cerulean helmet of the other hid shock, sorrow, and fury.
Before anyone spoke, each knight had the same thought in their minds.
'I thought we would be friends until the end of our lives.'
However, they had different reasons.
'You idiot… how can you abandon your honor like that?'
'You fool, can't you see your efforts are futile?'
'If you truly love her like how I do, you will let me pass and find her!'
'If you truly love her like how I do, you will wait until we find a way to get her out!'
"No."
"Who saved me?"
Blue eyes met the gaze of creamy brown eyes as she lifted her head up and smiled sweetly, yet wistfully.
"Black Knight."
"Promise me you'll save him!" Shield Knight desperately cried out, her metal shield cracking from the force of evil magic pouring out in streams of purple. Black Knight immediately swooped in, diving and jumping away from rogue orbs of darkness. His heart pounded and he broke a sweat in urgency for the first time in ages. When he reached his former friend, he almost doubled over in exhaustion.
"Shovel Knight." He panted, immediately grabbing the other's arm and carrying his fallen friend on his back. "I have you… buddy."
He cast a last glance at Shield Knight before running out the exit.
Shovel Knight's mouth hung open at the mention of his rival's title.
He looked at his partner, and then smiled. A very faint memory came to him as he snuggled even closer.
Black Knight carefully trudged through the trail, making sure the blue knight he carried was still alive and comfortable. Shovel Knight let out a small moan and sucked in a deep breath. The lordless warrior sighed, the first traces of a smile appearing on his face for the first time in years.
"I'm still your friend, Shovel Knight." He muttered, looking at the direction of where the Tower of Fate was. "I haven't forgotten that pinky promise." He turned away and continued walking. "Even if we are tossed into the unforgiving jaws of fate, I'm still your best friend."
"Black Knight, you idiot." He chuckled happily, staring up to the stars. "Of course we are still best friends."
Up next: L is for love.
Translations, and if anyone knows fluent French please aidez moi:
Désolé! – sorry
Aidez-moi – help me
Arrête! – stop