To IndigoPuff: Yes, it was referencing Monty Python! And you are welcome, I initially started this just to make the joke in B-anana. And I agree, there tends to be an act of ignoring the darkest parts in this lighthearted game about a knight with a shovel. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing this :)
To Guest with the short af review: ayy tyvm
To Monkey999Boy: I'm wondering who's the real sadist here…
To Saturdaylemon: A lot of mistakes were made. HAHA! And the French and German noises part is my personal favorite in S.
Specter of Torment is going to have its levels Megaman style and have us players choose. Specter Knight's face is also fully exposed in the trailer. He looks cute. Anyhow, I did say I'll be ignoring the canon in SpoT, but I can't help but reference to it! It's going to be amazing, guys. I already love it. Happy holiday season!
Also, welcome our nice French translator, Lyxent! Now Propeller Knight and company get to say fancy French stuff!
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T is for tree.
"I want this tree down."
Treasure Knight side-glanced at the tiny engineer, lifting his helmet up.
"You want me to do what now?" The bounty hunter's voice cracked a bit.
The welding mask seemed to glow. Tinker Knight put the back of his hands on his hips. "I want to cut this tree down."
The colossal hoarder stared up at the decorated pine tree, all sorts of shiny things hanging on the branches. A red sash was wrapped around it, the flickering colorful lights illuminating the town, and on the top the symbol of the holy boat. Free presents were under the tree's trimmed leaves, and the Bard was standing near it conducting his magical winter songs. Multiple blue Liquid Samurai played their respective instruments obediently, their pinprick eyes carefully watching the Bard's orange arms. The possible-yacht-god magically produced wrapped free stuff with a riff of his lute. Who didn't like free stuff? It was all shimmering. It was all so beautiful. The Bard successfully brought everyone together.
Propeller Knight was gleefully tearing off his present from the taco hat minstrel, destroying the box and pulling out a lovely plush rose. He spun around like a ballerina while hugging his new toy. His crew received kitchenware, paint and paintbrushes, a whole stack of all kinds of books in three languages, and assorted paper fans.
Plague Knight and Mona received so much beakers and flasks, and when Mona counted, it was the exact same amount of glassware Shovel Knight broke. Both alchemists raised an eye to each other, before cackling in mirth. Shovel Knight himself got an odd knitted sweater, blue shovel and green wreath designs on stripes. A note from the gods was stuck on it.
Thanks for 1.5 million copies!
Shovel Knight shrugged away the cryptic note and watched Shield Knight pull out her toy shield from so many years before, worn with age, but she still loved it nonetheless. Shovel Knight stole a glance at Black Knight, who received a violin for his size. He watched his best friend hold the violin by the scroll and extend it to the side. As the black-clad knight rested his chin on the chin rest, his gaze flicked instinctively to Shovel Knight, who was barely stifling his giggling. Polar Knight picked the infuriated black shoveler up and hmphed.
Specter Knight hid in an unseen place within the tree, holding a small black stick for orchestral conductors to wave with. For some reason, his eyes started leaking tears and he wanted no one to see him in a pathetic vulnerable state.
Mole Knight got several warm quilts, and he gave it away to the departments staff he brought along. He personally liked the tiny yellow blanket he dug up from the mountain of blankets.
King Knight was hollering happily with his new crown, flinging his old crown away and putting on the more majestic one (with more fake diamonds on it) atop his helmet. He flounced about, showing off his magnificent new crown.
The Baz got new sparking rope. And this time it actually sparked when he whipped it. Glitter also scattered when he whirled it around. Phantom Striker hid his tiny present under his blue cape and endured having to breathe in sparkling dust. Mister Hat had the time of his life swimming in his pile of hats, laughing as he kissed each of his new hats. Reize got a little checkered handkerchief.
Everyone was happy.
"Why would you want the tree down?" Treasure Knight inquired again, to which the pissed engineer growled.
"I hate to see them all smile."
"Is it because you didn't get free stuff?"
"Hnnnngggh."
.
T is for terror.
Tinker Knight winced when the French captain screeched yet again. Where did he get the energy to yell at people constantly? The engineer could not help but think of the lung power Propeller Knight must have after a life in the heavens-
"NOW TELL ME 'O WAS COOKING EEN ZE ZHIRD FLOOR KEETCHEN! YOU SET MY MAGNEEFEECENT SHIP ON FIRE AND YOU WILL PAY FOR EET!"
Treasure Knight meekly held up his anchor arm. "I already paid for the damage and it was just a small part-"
"SHUT UP!"
The accent sounded a million times more terrifying than it usually did. His voice had always been full of life's joys, but now it seemed like it was coming from the deepest and darkest crevices on the earth. Tinker Knight deemed himself lucky, as well as Polar Knight and Plague Knight. Polar Knight simply was out of the question. Even when infuriated, the captain correctly reasoned that the Order's dad figure just doesn't fit the suspect role. Plague Knight had literally just walked in the ship when the fire broke out. Always late to the gathering. Poor introvert. Tinker Knight himself was out fixing one of the major fans keeping the airship airborne, and the captain himself had been watching him work. He was so nice and kind as he talked to him about his silly crew, but the engineer swore he could see a glint in his hazel eyes that there was something more in his mind than a friendly conversation. Almost as if he was paying close attention to the repairs. But, well, he had decided to marry his airship instead of anyone…
"Zhe people 'o were in zhe keetchen were everyone aside from zhe zhree I have spared." He spoke in his thick accent, breathing in deeply. "Now tell me 'o was cooking and set my ship on fire." He abruptly pointed a finger at a certain gold knight. "KING KNIGHT, WAS EET YOU?"
"Don't you dare raise your voice at the king of Pridemoor! You are only a foreign nobleman and you have no power here!" King Knight stood up in defiance.
Fancy knight versus fancy knight.
A very bad idea if one of them happened to have the most terror-inspiring anger in the world. And a worse idea if said knight was furious beyond reason. And worst when said knight's omnipresent German subordinate handed him a skillet for the bashing.
Tinker Knight swore he saw Mole Knight fidget with his claws and Specter Knight glower at the monarch in intense hatred. Poor Plague Knight was having a mini-heart attack. His tiny green hands were shaking and sweating.
"King Knight, get down, damn it!" Tinker Knight whispered harshly, but the prideful knight stuck to his guns, even when the Frenchman was approaching ominously with a cooking pan.
The tiny engineer only noticed the height difference between the two fabulous men when Propeller Knight glared down. He stood straight and he kept his chin up, looking down at the shorter one with a slight frown. He clapped the skillet's circular pan on his hand. Tinker Knight swore he saw a burning soul behind those beautiful hazel eyes.
"What did you say?" The Frenchman softly spoke.
King Knight hurriedly sat back down, squeezing for some butt space between Specter Knight and Plague Knight. The phantom growled and inched away from the arsonist, muttering unintelligible curses about biscuits. And the Order of No Quarter's poor ears had to take in more of the airship captain's shrieking.
"YOU ARE STANDING EEN FRENCH TERRITORY AND ONE OF YOU BURNED PART OF EET DOWN! I AM ZHE MASTER HERE! And eef I find who ees responsible, I weell puneesh heem!" Propeller Knight angrily pointed to something to his right.
Tinker Knight stiffened. He glanced sideways to the left, and gulped down when he saw a giant turning fan. Everyone else gasped and trembled at the real threat from the French captain.
"Please spare our lives." Mole Knight begged meekly, almost kneeling in front of the captain. "Please don't kill us."
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T is for trauma.
Mole Knight entered the dim infirmary, his digging armor off of his large body. The underground clinic wasn't as hot as it was in the lowest excavation site as it was very close to the surface. Fresh air still flowed in the chamber. In his claws he clutched a large glass lamp shaped like a mole with shining tiny dots languidly bobbing and swaying in clear fluid. It glowed green and blue if it was shaken.
The students, still so young for the world despite being old enough to see war's horrors, were terrified of fire. The knight-archaeologist wondered if his handmade lamp made would work for them.
The floral fragrance of the medicinal antimony sticks wafted in the air. They still burned after three night straight, and he heard the sheets moving and shuffle.
"Hello, students, how are you?" He gently called out, holding the glass lamp up. "I want to show you something."
Mole Knight vigorously shook the mole-shaped lamp, and held it out. The young students watched it glow. Awe lit up on their scarred faces, and the knight entered to show them.
"I'm happy you enjoy my handiwork." Mole Knight smiled and set the glowing lamp on the middle of the room. "If it's dim, just move it a little."
"How did you make this, Mole Knight?"
"I went to the shore and harvested the bright glitter on the sand. Do you want your own?"
There was a gleeful and collective "yes". He wiped a tear off his face.
"I'll make you your little mole lamps, alright? Now, take your rest."
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T is for torture.
/*dungeons of Pridemoor Keep*/
Green, blue, and red fluids sloshed inside the bucket by the usurper's feet, multiple bodies of liquid men that lost the cohesiveness to be able to reform and yet still keeping themselves together. Dead Liquid Samurai, provided by the Enchantress, to force someone to scream and beg.
Ropes tied him to a cold and uncomfortable metal chair, needle-like spikes digging into his skin but not drawing blood. His swollen face, his black eye, and many deep cuts weren't fazing the commander, and he spat his bloody saliva on the golden feet of the pretender king.
"Now let me just tell you something, a secret in the Society." Three laughed bitterly. "It goes a little something like this… 'go to hell, bastard'."
King Knight wasted no time to swing the heavy crowbar towards Three's skull. "I do not like to be called 'bastard', you pathetic general." He grabbed his rusty knife, caked with the prisoner's blood, and slashed at his arm. The man hissed softly.
"Oh, makes me think who's really pathetic here." Roman growled through clenched teeth.
"I have the power here. You don't." King Knight scooped liquid from inside the bucket and splashed it on the commander's wounds.
Nothing happened for a short moment.
Fresh and warm blood came into contact with the lifeless beings. The liquid warriors, stirred by life in fluid, crept their way to the source of the life… and swam towards the deep laceration.
Then, burning agony.
/*Lich Yard*/
"You heartless cur." Seven growled when the reaper approached his cell. His chains clinked on the stone floor. He desperately wanted to claw the smug phantom's eyes off if he still had them, but the chains restrained his shaking hands and feet to the wall. All he could do was glare up at the phantom.
"My heart was eaten by the creatures of the earth a long time ago… Arthur. I've come here to tell you about Irma." Specter Knight inched close to the prisoner, and the latter bolted up, his fists balled. But the chains were too short and the punch was stopped by the tense metal links. Arthur shrieked, his heart pounding. His sights were all on the apparition, and he pulled at the chains holding his wrists and feet, half-hoping they would break somehow and thrash his dreadful warden.
"What are you doing to her?!" The tears suddenly rolled down his face, his voice cracking. "What are you doing?!"
"Nothing of the sort you think of, Arthur. She is safe." He answered calmly.
"Liar! Do you think I will believe you? You say she's in the next cell, but I never hear her voice! Don't you dare!"
His chilly hand shot out to grip at the hysterical man's throat. He tightened his hold on his neck, a sadistic person taking over. "You would not like the worst death in the world, Arthur, for the sensation of being choked to death is most frightening." He chuckled darkly. "I know you have a fondness of the woman lying on her bed in the room to your right. I know everything about her. I know all about her, how she feels frustrated and alone every night, how much she loves her brother Siegfried, how much she fears being followed..."
"Don't… put Siegfried in… this." Arthur managed to choke out. His numbing hands grasped at the apparition's claws, but they only started to tighten more and puncture his skin.
"He is our greatest enemy at the moment, Arthur. Do you think I am petty and forgiving? If I have to take his little sister away, I will do it."
"Let… her go." His sight was beginning to be dotted in specks of white.
"As I said, she is safe. I have not harmed her in any way physically."
He sucked in air and whispered his next word. "Liar."
He let him go, and Seven fell to the floor, wheezing for air. "How boastful. What a show of pride. You did not even hit King Knight."
"What do you want?" He breathed out between coughs.
"All of what you know within the insurgency, dear Arthur. Answer my questions, and she goes. You will go as well, and I will personally see to it that you are together after death."
"Son of a whore!"
Specter Knight giggled bitterly. "So… you have decided in imprisoning yourselves for life… and the life after that." He waved his hand and hovered out of the room. "If Roman dies in Pridemoor, you shall be next, and if you die, she will awaken and will die as well."
"You snake!"
"Good night, Arthur."
He tuned out the anguished wails from the other prisoner and entered Five's cell. She was lying on her bed, tucked nicely under a comfortable blanket. Not a single bruise nor a single wound, except for the raw parts of her neck and throat. She was deep asleep, and he placed his glowing hand over her forehead, to see the permanent nightmare he caused.
She wept softly, embracing Arthur so tight and attempting to ward death away from him. Her coat was soaked with his blood. He weakly hugged back, resting his head on her shoulder.
"Get away… just run. Don't let… anyone get inside… this wretched and cursed castle…" He moaned to her, holding her quaking hand and sighing quietly.
"I'm not leaving you behind! Even if you're dead, I'll drag your bodies out and give you all a proper burial, and-"
"How will you... carry eleven bodies out of here? We're chased… by eight monsters prowling around the castle..."
"I'll find a way."
"You can't. They're too powerful… they're all around you." He brought his hand up to her face. "Run away… get to safety."
"I refuse!"
"Ssh. They'll… hear you."
"Is there a way for me to turn back time… to save all of you?"
"You'd have to live. Please… live for me."
"I can't lose the last person with me."
"You're not going to die."
"I'm afraid I am… so run away… before they get you."
She breathed out, the heavy load on her heart crushing her soul. She brushed his hair away from his face and embraced him tightly just to ease his untimely death. He let out a small and sad laugh.
"I really… liked that… so please, go away… save yourself for me."
She combed her fingers through his hair. It would be hard to the last person alive with her. She gently put him down to the cold floor. "I… will find a way to get back if I get out alive. I promise it."
Irma managed to tear her eyes away from her dying friend and sprint to the nearby castle doors. It was just around the corner, it was just guarded by the giant bearded man with fleece on his back and horns atop his head, armed with a large spiked mace that had Gil's blood and flesh on it.
She focused her thoughts on the exit, trying to forget the haunting deaths of the others. Crushed to death by a large white mace. Buried alive under rubble. Pushed off the highest tower. Vaporized by a well-aimed missile. Beheaded. Poisoned by a tempting feast. Hexed by an evil sorceress. Impaled with a blunt bar. Drowned in a pool with no escape.
Five bolted to the corridor that led into the entrance hallway, and she could get out from there. She ran as fast as she could, knowing that the monsters would not be able to follow her outside and she was safe.
The light of the sun flooded the hallway. Panting, she ran towards the light. Safety was-
"Where are you going?" A disembodied voice whispered. She did not stop running. The open doors were open wide, tempting her.
Threads of black swirled around just before the doors, a creature emerging from the black amorphous figure. It formed the tattered black robes of the ninth monster, the bone-white body under it covered almost completely in it. Its right hand clutched a large scythe, and she had no time to even think when the sharp blade was driven through her chest, piercing her heart. She let out a little pained yelp before her body went limp.
"Eleven or one… eleven or one… twelve for the first. Eleven or one for the next times…" The voice in the dark whispered, before she woke up in her bed, the morning sunlight hurting her sleepy eyes.
Specter Knight hummed to himself, satisfied with the loop of time in her dreams, and removed his hand from her head. Her skin had a sheen of sweat, and she was breathing hurriedly. Her brows were furrowed and her teeth grinding together.
"Good night, Irma."
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T is for tease.
She had her arms crossed, and she was glowering at the tiny flower he had given her. Irma didn't like flowers. At least, not anymore.
"Why are you so angry?" The older brother jokingly mocked a pout.
"I'm not a child anymore, brother. I am most capable of doing things on my own." She huffed and frowned at him. "We have so much work to do. We both have no time for anything else. We have a country to liberate."
You've grown so serious. He felt a verbal knife stab him right at the heart, but he bounced back with a big smile. "Am I not allowed to dote on my little sister?"
"I'm not little anymore."
Yes. I know. You aren't anymore. Siegfried snatched the flower in his sister's hand (he also stole a glance at the wiggling piece of supernatural cloth around her wrist and raised a brow) and put it on her long braided hair. A brief memory of him gleefully braiding her hair with pretty flowers he thought didn't have spiders anymore while she polished her knife flashed before his eyes. He sighed. At least having her complain to him that he should have checked for spiders before putting the things on her head was better than her not even saying anything close to excitement.
It was the time before Specter Knight started to terrorize the land, just before the Order of No Quarter was established.
And with his attacks her beautiful bright smile and knack for designing the prettiest winter coats and evening dresses faded away, replaced by cold and serious military wit and never-ending mountains of paperwork. Her needle and thread was replaced by sword and blood. While it was completely fine to see her know how to fight and rise on the ranks on her own without his intervention at all (except, of course, of the fact he taught her everything he knew after the reaper took everything away)… it was painful to see how war eroded her ability to feel any kind of happiness.
War was unforgiving. Cold. Empty. Vengeful. A double-edged sword. A disease of humanity.
He'd never forgive Specter Knight for taking away his sister's glimmering smile. The Order of No Quarter too. The entire Order was the reason she was having sleepless nights and no time for self-care.
"Where did the sister I know go?"
Irma glared at him, her brow raised. "I'm right here."
He sighed inwardly. She's gone. "What are you up to today?"
She looked down at her helmet with a relaxed but still emotionless expression and put it on. "I paid a visit to the eastern camp for you, brother. But my time is up. I have to go back to my area."
"We still have… five minutes left." Just a little more time with you, he didn't add. I'm so sick of seeing you so void of feelings. I love you so much.
She relented, and dropped her shoulders. "Okay."
"Wow, that was quick."
"Do you want me to leave?"
Siegfried felt his heart shatter. Her humor has gotten so jaded, too. What the fuck.
"No, no, come here. We're sitting on the softest grass on this uncultivated tract of crap so let's sit the hell out of it."
The corners of her mouth tugged, and she snorted for less than a second. There, he thought. A smile. She sat back down, this time right beside him.
"Can't we spend the rest of the day together as brother and sister?" He half-wished, half-requested, and she reverted to her stoic face again.
"Well… I think it would not be so bad."
He wrapped his arms around his armored sister, hugging her tight. Irma herself gasped in surprise. "Brother. You're too close to me."
"Am I not allowed to hug my baby sister?"
"Please. We're adults."
"But I miss the times when we were so young."
The time she and her awkward blond boy friend were being too dramatic and they were crying because she accidentally fell on him and he was 'flat' and he charged into the playground with a magic sword, looking for bandits that dared hurt his baby sister and her friend. The time she was having difficulty carrying a claymore and preferred a light saber and cutlass instead. The time she was hit by a cannonball's debris and he risked his life to pull her out of the battle. The time when she was showing him admittedly crappy drawings of two stick figures, one big and carrying a big as fuck sword and the other small and holding a small toy knife.
"I miss the times when things are peaceful." He admitted, wiping away the single tear that threatened to shatter his image of invincibility.
"Me too." She replied softly, pushing her big brother off her as gently as she could. "I think we should work on getting back that peace."
"But do you think things will be the same as before?"
"Don't be naive. You know that after war, the order that comes is different than the order preceding it."
"True. But don't forget I still love seeing you draw."
"I might get back to it someday. But for now, I would have to get the state of peace back. Why don't you do the bitter work, like me?"
Oh. So she's… just shouldering the hard stuff.
"It might help. You're One. You're the head of it all. If you were just like me I think we might have taken down Polar Knight by today. Tomorrow, we could have just easily coerced Propeller Knight. He is very easy to take down. And then, the Enchantress. With our numbers and magic-"
"Now hold you horses, are you planning to murder me and take over the revolts? Because even if you're my sister, I'm not really willing to give it up." He laughed mirthfully.
"No, I was only stating fact."
Ouch. He sulked quietly on his spot. "Get plenty of rest and charge your magic. You will need those. I order you to get plenty of sleep before the invasion starts."
"As One, or as Siegfried?"
He looked up at her. Her eyes were soft in their gaze, but her statement challenged him. He almost broke down. She won't be taking orders from Siegfried anymore, for sure.
"As One. I order you to sleep tonight."
"You're just using your position to basically put me to bed."
Wow, she can read minds. Holy ship. I did not teach her this. Did Anart give her telepathy or something? Because by gods that is both useful and terrifying.
Irma chuckled softly again. "I see your point. I've been feeling sick for the past year. I can't eat without the lump in my throat. But you taught me how to walk over needles, so I'll be fine."
"You can't eat, too? I order you to eat some healthy food! Get the Gastronomer! He's in the village square-"
"Of course, my lord. Or big brother. Whatever."
"Irma, I beg you. Don't…"
"Don't what?"
He bit his lip. Don't stop smiling. "Don't stress yourself out. I want everyone's minds healthy for our advances. This will all take some more time."
"You mean years. I'm ready to take on it."
He sighed. But you're so young and full of life, I'd really want you to be happy, or get married, I'll dress up in a fluffy pink dress if you want and I'll spew rainbows out of my hands, I'll give you the world if you want. You're the only family left to me. But he said none of those things aching his heart.
"I'm all grown up. I'm a knight now. I can plan good strategies and take over so much territory."
"I know. You've become so competent. Possibly more than I will ever be. I just want you to… be ready for the next steps."
"I'm excited to fight the Enchantress at the moment."
"Let's… not be too hasty."
She smiled mischievously. "I'm just excited."
.
T is for torment.
He'll never forgive Specter Knight. Forever and ever. Even if he turns out to be a close friend of his, he will strike him down. He had taken away his sister's smile.
Siegfried's heart pounded so hard in his chest, fighting back tears and inhaling short breaths. His hands were shaking. It was so hot. So fucking hot. And still he felt so cold. So fucking cold.
The report sitting in front of him was full of bad news. Undead plaguing north and west. Survivors numbering only two hundred twenty out of the combined sixteen thousand troops of the north and west. One hundred sixty-seven, mortally wounded. The remaining fifty-three, still fit for battle. South's troops diminished from eleven thousand to a meager two thousand ready for deployment. Some of the victims, still alive, but missing at least one leg. Some dead, vaporized by landmines. Some dead, reanimated. Some injured men died in anguish. Many names were ticked off as missing.
A drastic loss.
The rebellion had lost its morale and invincibility.
He clenched his fist, his nails digging into skin and drawing blood. He couldn't stop his tears.
The north was literally obliterated. The cannon fire from the Keep had destroyed too much for anything to salvage. Soldiers that had once been stationed there were just mindless lackeys for the specter bastard. The west soldiers had responded but they had all gone from the face of the earth. Two's army had retreated and started to lick its wounds.
The east… left intact.
That wasn't it.
He choked back a pathetic wail, the names of important people crossed off.
Three. Roman. Reported to have been heavily wounded. Presumably captured. Most likely dead.
Six. Gil. Driven to a trap by Specter Knight and executed by decapitation.
Seven. Arthur. Captured by King Knight while he led his surviving soldiers to the east around the booby trapped area. Some soldiers were able to escape and tell the west camp's story. And also the cheesy names King Knight named the commanders. Creative, but really damn cheesy...
He felt a pang of terror and fury when the most important name in his life was also there.
Five. Irma. Reported to have been wrung by the neck after landing successful hits on Specter Knight. Presumably captured, but most likely dead.
Siegfried could imagine the dreadful reaper's claws around her neck, choking her and squeezing the life out of her. What other horrors could he do to her? Had he taken her soul? Did he know they were brother and sister? He pulled at his short dirty blond hair, pitifully crying as quietly as he could. His little sister, maybe dead and forced to serve the enemy, or alive and subjected to torture.
So appropriate for a big brother that once entered a playground with a sword and looking for outlaws that dare harm children. I failed as One and as Siegfried.
Specter Knight took my sister away!
"Siegfried, I'll take over." Two's soft voice snapped him back to reality. Her hand had been on his shoulder. "I learned of Five-"
"I want you to take over the organization for the meantime." He growled, and stood up. His chair toppled backward.
"What-"
"In this state… I lost my sister. I can't function recklessly. Accept it now, or I'll change my mind and cause our own downfall!"
He could see Two's hesitation fade away from her face and she relented. "I accept the duties."
Siegfried took off his suddenly heavy mantle and dropped it on his chair. "Until I get my wits back."
"You need to take a break… I'll arrange for your leave." Two's tone was barely toeing the line of command and request.
"I appreciate it."
"Don't be so reckless, alright? I… I'll get Irma, Roman, and Arthur back."
He angrily wiped away a tear and sniffed. "I wish they'd come back."
"Let's work on it."
"I'll never forgive the Order of No Quarter for this."
.
T is for treatment.
The unconscious halberdier coughed in his sleep, and Propeller Knight wiped off the blood leaking from his friend's lips.
"How is he, mademoiselle?" The airship's captain shyly asked, twiddling his thumbs. Mona waved her antimony stick around, the aromatic smoke diffusing in the air. The odor of liquor was rapidly going away, overwhelmed by the sweet smell.
"When did this cough first start?" She kept her aloof expression on, trying not to gaze at his pretty face.
"Uhh, well, I think it started a few weeks ago, after we attended an Order meeting. The Enchantress arrived and suddenly he was coughing a little harder than usual…" He trailed off to silence, idly fumbling with his hands and the bloody tissue before speaking up again. "He had been coughing before, but we thought it was an allergy to all the flowers we both bought. I made a joke that flowers make Germans so constipated and he was just laughing it off… but I don't know if that was made in good taste in hindsight…"
"Oh, don't really worry-"
"What if I told him that he might run out of the fuel in his back and then he suddenly actually loses it one day and he falls to his death?"
"Hey. Don't be so paranoid over this. It's alright. None of it is your fault." Mona let herself smile a little to calm the panicked captain.
"We insult each other at other times, and can be weirdly affectionate, so what if he actually catches the flu after I tell him to get a cold?"
"Hey. Hold it. He'll be fine, alright? Antimony," she pointed to the stick in her hand, "of this grade is able to help the body repair itself. It's medicinal in alchemy." Mona flicked her wrist and an entire sack of antimony sticks appeared by her feet in a puff of green smoke.
"Alright…" He breathed in deeply.
"Don't keep the sticks too close to his face, don't even think of fanning the fumes to his face. Medicine doesn't work that way." She sternly lectured. "Don't let it go too far, he might not even get the correct dosage."
"How far should I put it?" He asked, gesturing at Albrecht.
She tapped a finger on her chin. "By the post there." She pointed at the bedpost by the patient's feet. "That works. And don't panic when you're giving him treatment, alright?"
"I might just leave this job to the other Hoverhafts… I might not have sufficient time or even sufficient mental stability..."
"If it makes you feel better, then alright." She stood up and smoothed her skirt. "I must leave. If you need any help, contact me through our mail minions, alright?"
Propeller Knight nodded obediently. She smiled at him to reassure, before disappearing in a cloud of dark blue smoke. The captain looked back at his subordinate's face, his brows knit together.
Why didn't you tell me it's serious?
He let his shoulders drop. He would have to ask the other crew members about his illness. If they knew about it, I am going to feel disappointed and hurt. Does he even trust me after what happened in the first meeting in the Tower?
.
T is for test.
Plague Knight dropped a rainbow-colored feather of a rare bird only found in a specific kind of tree made of silver bark. That thing was hard to get. Said bird sang its song, and if anyone heard it it would lull then to sleep. And the odd bird would shit magical crap on the sleeping person's head and petrify them. Luckily nitroglycerin-cluster bombs were louder than said birdsong…
He shrugged when the green liquid started to simmer as the magic in it mixed, and then jumped down the ladder.
"Plaguey, did you blow up the tree?" Mona's tired eyes still retained the usual mad glee when there was science to be done, but three sleepless nights just cannot be masked behind a euphoric smile.
"I… did?" He tilted his head. "Why?"
"Well, I really wanted to see how it looked like…" She trailed off to silence and sighed. Her bluish hair veiled the light pink that dusted her cheeks.
"It was really ugly. It didn't really have leaves. I bet that tree is made of stone. The birds you told of have poop that turn stuff into stone."
"I still want to see it."
The little bird man twiddled his fingers. "I'm sorry I blew it up."
"Did you have to blow up the bird, too?"
"... yes."
"Plague Knight. That is a rare bird."
He sank in his spot.
"I'm pretty sure those guys are immortal anyway. So! We seem to be close to getting the Serum Supernus!" She lit up again.
"Yeah! Hee hee! I'm excited!"
"And then we just need nine strong essences. And then it's complete! You'll rule the world!"
"I… don't really want the world-"
"What do you mean you don't want it? Make the world obey us alchemists!"
"Hey, you're probably getting mad over the lack of sleep." Plague Knight didn't really want to point out the dark circles under her eyes. "I think you need some rest. Get to sleep."
She banged her fist on the table. "But we're so close! When we get the perfect mixture that we need, we really just have to insert the stabilized essences into the liquid, brew it, put it through the decanter-"
"I still haven't raided the Lich Yard for ghost pee…"
"What?! That is one of our vital catalysts!"
"And that's why you should get some rest." His poor heart was about to explode with all the pumping it was doing. "Mona. I'm going to drink that. But you said exactly three years, two months and five days ago that we should be patient."
She groaned.
"I promise that tomorrow, when you wake up, we'll do all the testing! Hee hee!"
"Well, alright then, Plaguey. Thanks for letting me sleep."
.
T is for tinker.
Tinker Knight looked up at the confusing encrypted blueprint, tacked on the board firmly, his brows knit in angry thoughts. Whenever he looked down from atop his tower he could still see the messy heap of useless machines he had carefully designed before a little bit to the mountain's base. Those machines were thrown away in fear. The townspeople were acting on their emotions, and so they couldn't be blamed.
Who is to blame?
Her.
Enough is enough.
The engineer hopped off his stool and dashed out of his workshop. A Cogslotter and a Gear Wizzem were chatting by with ice-cold drinks in their hands. Tinker Knight bellowed as loud as he could to catch their attention. The poor Cogslotter spilled his drink on his apron, boots,and part of his Wizzen friend's left shoe in surprise.
"You two! Call them all right now! We are to build a huge machine before midwinter! So we all better start with doing this!"
.
T is for treason.
King Knight sat alone in his throneroom, reading his manual, deeply engrossed in it.
"Chapter Twenty-Seven. How to maintain status."
His eyes quickly scanned over the next paragraph.
"The masses are truly the ones with power. They represent the collective entity that determine a nation's survival. Their sentiments are the most important in the field of politics."
The usurper shrugged. I guess that is true… but where do I get in?
His fingers drifted down the page.
"Turn their loyalty for you, and they will remain steadfast in their faith in you. Cause them to turn their loyalties against each other, it will result in bloody conflict. Turn their loyalty against you, they will take over you. Your absolute power means nothing compared to the anger of the nation."
"Okay…?" He raised a brow.
"Even if you are a totalitarian ruler, the dissatisfaction of the collective nation will always prevail over social hierarchy. Humanity survives by getting what they wish. All beings live to survive. Do what pleases your subjects. If you do not, defeat looms over you."
The usurper blinked, his thoughts briefly going back to his prisoners of war.
What does it take to rule? Why are they fighting me?
/**/
Mole Knight stood before the terrible mural of the giant demoness, the unsightly drawings of innocent people running away, the armed knights protecting those who had been fleeing with their lives, and of eight monsters chasing after. His infuriated glare was on the image of the Enchantress-figure, thinking of the running shapes as the helpless students caught in a trap that shouldn't have been in.
He looked down at the pit where crushed and mutilated bones had once been, deliberating in his mind. He then idly moved his claws towards the mural, hissing through his teeth and his arm trembling. Mole Knight almost screamed in his bubbling rage.
No mercy for those who harm those who are like me.
/**/
The flying crew chattered and laughed as they flew up to pin the decorations to the walls of the grand hall. Tables were assembled and gold covers and blue runners were draped expertly over them. Glazed vases with green floral designs were placed carefully on top of the tables, and then filled with fragrant tulips. Streamers of white were tied to the ceiling beams. Propeller Knight watched his crew with a smile on his face, and tried to not think of the party.
The anniversary of the Order of No Quarter's founding was going to be held in the Flying Machine.
How stupid, he thought to himself. To hold the anniversary celebration in a place where the Enchantress had her sights on all of the time? What's there to celebrate for? Another year of inciting terror upon innocent people? Needless massacres? Another year of living in fear of her sudden anger, and she might start to kill my subordinates? The captain holds responsibility over his ship's crew!
He almost chuckled sourly to himself. His heart ached in his chest.
Responsabilité. Pour échapper à celle-ci, je suis devenu ce que je suis aujourd'hui; mais je me battrai tout de même pour ceux que j'aime.
Responsibility. I became who I am now to run away from exactly that. But still, I will fight for those I love.
/**/
"Do you need anything, Polar Knight?" Her violet eyes looked down from above down to the old knight standing on the ground.
"I need to talk to Shield Knight." He firmly stated, wishing that it would work like the one time she managed to break out.
"Help me." Her soft voice called out weakly, and the Stalwart's heart was crushed. The voice of a helpless girl… the voice of his little daughter…
"I will help you get out." He replied with a confident smile. "I will."
There was a brief moment of silence before the witch spoke again, as if the unified entity forgot all of what happened a moment ago.
"Shield Knight?"
"She is dead, Polar Knight. If you truly want to talk to her, consult Specter Knight. He may be willing to bring up her ghost."
He clenched his teeth and his hand balled into a fist before he begrudgingly exited. Shield Knight… wasn't emerging at all.
Oh how much he yearned to hear her true voice again, even just for one last time in his life.
I will get my daughter back. Whatever it takes. I want my daughter back.
/**/
The bounty hunter's eyes opened. He stirred, standing up from the corner in his Iron Whale. He had been sitting as he slept. He stretched his sore back and shoulders. His dream of a memory… was peculiar.
The little rascal laughed for the first time in weeks. The tiny puppy licked his face over and over again, the crooked tail wagging happily as the dog panted and licked the boy. He stroked its dark fur and hugged his new friend. The puppy was a stray like him. Both left in the muddy and dirty streets to rot.
"You really are so fond of me." He smiled and pet the puppy's back and neck. He was answered with a cute little bark and more cuddling. "So cute... I'm naming you Anthony!"
Treasure Knight sighed as he scooped a handful of gold pieces in his hand.
What is the greatest treasure in the world?
/**/
"Plaguey, look at this!"
The bird alchemist almost jumped out of his skin when Mona called him. Her tone was so excited and jubilant that he sprinted towards the direction of her Dynamo Decanter. She was almost jumping up and down, her research journal in her hand. The notebook was opened to a specific page in which pictures and notes about the stages for the development of the Serum Supernus was scrawled on.
"Yes, M-mona?" He stuttered at her face. A bright gleaming smile.
"Eureka, Plague Knight! Eureka!"
She pointed at the glowing green liquid. His bird mask almost dropped.
"The Ultimate Potion is almost ready! We did it!"
"We only need nine strong essences!" She closed her eyes and grinned so widely. "We've come through so far together!"
Plague Knight twiddled his fingers. "Yes, Mona. We did it together…"
I only want to be with the person I love with all my heart.
/**/
"That's so huge." The Cogslotter looked up at the titanic machine with awe. "I think it's the biggest we have made in all our lives."
"It is not the greatest, but it has so much firepower." Tinker Knight couldn't hide his excited smile. The hundreds of hours of sweat, tears, and a little blood was all worth the beautiful giant. He wiped his face with a cool towel before marvelling at his newest creation.
A soon-to-be reinforced cockpit that as for now was just an exposed chair with switches, buttons, levers, and target screens. The missile launchers were wired to his screens. The tank's rolling caterpillar tracks could help it move on most terrain, and its intricate system of cogs and wires enabled it the same self-sustaining generator of power in the entire Clockwork Tower that would let it function for a whole month turned on. The incendiary chemicals inside were carefully measured and tested according to destructive power, and it was als armed with four bombs capable of levelling castles.
Tinker Knight dubbed it The Destroyer.
To liberty and truth.
/**/
Specter Knight let the loving memories in his Phase Locket stream from his palm, up his arm, and towards his heart. The gentle warmth of the good memories of his life spread throughout his soul, calming his conflicting thoughts of murder and mercy.
He closed the locket and closed his eyes. The moaning souls of his victims echoed in the ruins of the village he had taken over so many years ago.
Do I still deserve redemption?
Up next: U is for undead.