Author's note: Sorry for the really long hiatus. I really, really can't bring myself to write at all. Just a few days ago, I was really close to suicide, but I wouldn't go into the nitty-gritty about it. I'm still here.
This one's quite short, but I promise that the last two chapters will be satisfying.
UPDATE 07 May 2019: This fic has been dormant for two years. I do NOT want any more messages asking me if I'm going to finish this. The answer is NOT LIKELY. I still want this done, but I really don't have the motivation for it. Wait in five years, maybe ten, maybe I'll do the next two chapters. I'm also not giving anyone my other reasons for not finishing this soon enough. I'm not letting anyone finish this fic for me, too. I won't answer further messages to any of my accounts about this. Hopefully you still enjoy what my past self used to write.
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X is for exterior.
"My lovely and talented engineers added something to my helmet!" Propeller Knight giddily said. "Look, mes amis, at the magnificent work they have done!"
"Can we just play cards already?" Plague Knight growled, smashing his cards face down on the table. "I was really looking forward for cards day. I want to play cards against the Order of No Quarter, too-"
"But, look! My engineers are the best in the world, so you better praise them!" The Frenchman stood up and reached for his Heli-Helmet's controller. The blades of the propeller spun around and he was lifted up in midair quickly. He flew around, laughing his irritating honhonhon laugh, and the Order of No Quarter gazed at the trail of glitter it left behind.
"You stupid Frenchman, the glitter's going to end up on the food! THE FOOD I COOKED!"
"The glitter dispensers dispense edible glitter, mon ami. My baker makes them." He waltzed around in midair and clasped his hands together, his voice dreamy and happy. "Aren't their works so beautiful?! Praise my crew! Togezher, my crew and I will make zhe best team in zhe monde!"
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X is for extra salty.
"I fold…" Specter Knight begrudgingly said, and instantly the usurper of Pridemoor's throne stood up. His chair toppled backwards, but the faux king paid no heed to it. He pumped his fists in the air in a not-so-regal way, and upon realizing that fact, he spun around as elegantly as he could, hands still up in the air.
"I win! And you tell me I'm dumb!"
"That is just luck, and nothing else, you dimwit." The apparition pouted, his awesome pride hurting and wanting to pierce the golden king's pride.
"Oh no, no no no. You're mostly mistaken, my red-hooded dead biggest loser. I've been battling people in card games for all my life! Now is my time to shine! My spotlight! Mine! Mine!"
"I am disappointed that I did not hurt your prid-"
"I'M THE BEST AT CARDS. SO YOU CAN ALL SHUT UP!"
King Knight yammered on, and the Order was half-expecting trumpets to just appear and spray confetti. The knights sighed in unison (in the case of Specter Knight, he shook his head in disapproval), and went on to their own activities.
"Say, who has the cards against us deck?" Mole Knight piped up.
Treasure Knight startled to wiggle his arm out of his armor. "Rts wrrth mrr. But frrst, srrmone hrrlp me grrt my rrm out."
"... this is now the time I prove to you all foolish cretins that I'm the best and-"
"Who got zhird place in Dig zhe Vote, King Knight? You aren't zhe best."
All eyes now gazed at Propeller Knight, whose fists were curled in rage. The Frenchman clenched and slightly bared his teeth at the monarch. He was close to shaking, his body unable to stop the flow of raw fury.
"Oh shit." "Language. We have a young baby boy here." "I am a reaper, an entity all of you should fear-" "Pshaw, everyone knows you played with a kitten earlier today, Dork Knight!" "Okay, I'm betting Propeller will win." "Should we keep them apart now?" "No fighting on the table! I cooked the food!" "Pass the salt." "Popcorn!" "Salt's here, you know. It's unfolding right before us." "I prefer edible salt."
Plague Knight pulled out a swirly straw and then a gourd-shaped flask materialized on his palm. He started to sip on the vital vitriol, intent on watching. A vat of popped corn sat on Specter Knight's lap, and he began scooping bowls of the food and passing them around for everyone else to consume.
"Me, of course." King Knight snickered. "Of course, who won fourth place, Propeller Knight? At least I was voted as the third favorite!"
"Va te faire foutre!" Propeller Knight took off, growling and cursing all the way. He scrambled onto the table, much to the foodlovers' horror. "Je vais te tuer espèce de bâtard!"
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X is for expression.
The little black kitten jumped up onto the table, tail swishing and green eyes scanning the room in a search. The hall was still empty, aside from the tiny cat child and Specter Knight. It would still be hours before the next knight would come for today's meeting, which may or may not end in a food fight and a shouting contest. Said shouting contest might not entirely be in English, too.
The apparition stared at the cat as blankly as he could, trying not to just pet it right then and there. He tensed, doing the undead equivalent of holding his breath. It swished its tail left to right as if it was demanding to be pet while it made eye contact with him. It meowed, trying to get him to stop being a statue, then walked towards him hesitantly. It then positioned itself on Specter Knight's lap and then extended a paw to tap his chest a few times.
"Meow? Prr..."
After it mewed at him, Specter Knight carefully looked to the left.
He then looked to the right.
Then over his shoulder and behind his back.
He did a mental sweep of the place. Using his cool and awesome black magic of undeath, he found no living or undead beings immediately outside of the mess hall.
Good. Then we can do this, my little Cottonball. I love you.
Specter Knight's right hand glowed white with ribbons of black and red, and then two fake cat ears magically appeared on his hood in a bright light. The black kitty watched in awe at the magic happening before it. It looked down at its tiny paw. Sometimes, when it touched the cold human, bright things appear on his head somehow! But when the cold human was around other humans, he didn't even look at the kitty!
As it was examining and licking its paw, it was assaulted by friendly fingers that tickled it under its chin and belly. The kitten purred in happiness as Specter Knight stroked its fur on its head, back, tail, and belly. It flopped over, sticking all four of its paws up and meowing for more affectionate rubbing.
"Coochie coochie pew pew, belly rub for you!" The apparition squealed as awesomely as he could, unable to resist the cute kitten's appeal. He pulled out his hover plume and quickly tied a string on it. When he dangled the feather before its face, the gray feather immediately grabbed the kitten's attention. It stood and then jumped up, attempting to catch the feather between its paws.
"Oh, by yacht gods, Cottonball, you are so adorable! I love you, cutie kitty!" Specter Knight squeed out loud shortly afterwards.
Several minutes of the kitten batting its paws at his hover plume toy and intense cuddling and smooching passed.
"Um… Master Specter?" A young female voice called out. Recognizing the voice, Specter Knight suddenly reverted to a calm and collected state, as if the kitten did not exist. The playful kitten, sensing that something was wrong with its peculiar cold human friend, decided to climb on his sleeve and pull itself up to rest on a skull on his shoulder. Once there, it purred to Specter Knight, content with its giant red kitty friend that somehow didn't have a heartbeat and felt so cold to the touch. Oh well, at least Specter Knight had a soothing voice.
"Master, what were you doing?" Mitzi tried to stifle her giggling at the cat ears sticking out from his hood. He must have forgotten about them, she snickered to herself. She turned into smoke before zooming to a spot behind Specter Knight.
"Nothing in particular, servant." He hissed at the reforming ghost maiden. "Now leave me be. I am enjoying my time alone. You know that I hate being disturbed."
She burst out laughing. "Master Specter, you truly look so cute when you're pretending you're not giving the kitty a belly rub and playing with-!"
It was his turn to be flustered. He glowered at her. "I do not pet kittens. I am the reaper of souls and the one who passes final judgment-"
The kitten meowed cutely in response to his lie and cutting-edge edginess, and then rubbed its face on his hood.
"Aww, she is meowing! Rubbing her head against your hood! She likes you!"
Caving in, he let a hand go up to stroke its head. The kitten purred, and then curled up on top of the skull on his shoulder.
"She purred! She really loves you! You were petting her and rubbing her belly all the time! Don't deny it, I've actually peered in and saw you playing with her with a feather on a string!"
Specter Knight hung his head in shame. "Yes. I do love kittens-"
"I CALLED IT! YOU LOVE KITTIES! WHAT'S HER NAME?"
"Shush! I do not want anyone else to know! Watch it! By the way, servant, her name is Shadow, and most definitely not Cottonball."
She gasped. "SPECTER KNIGHT LO-"
"If you do not keep quiet, you dumb bagel, I will put you with the unemployed ghosts. Your benefits of an eternity of employment, rights to housing, and death insurance will be revoked."
"No! Not my death insurance!"
"Now, do you want to be reincarnated as a dung beetle, servant? Now, shush. And I love dogs, too, but there are no dogs wandering here..."
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X is for exploit.
Before the Wandering Travellers set off to the world and embarked on a grand quest to defeat as much evil beings as they could, Mister Hat and Reize decided to visit the shop of the eccentric man with a love for both hats and hoods… and cloaks and magic. It was not that deep in the woods, but if one knew the group of warriors, they would get lost halfway to this mage's abode.
Unfortunately, they did.
Baz, being the most sane person when it came to navigating areas, led the group. Reize tagged along his burly friend with smiles. As they walked, they shared life stories and gossip.
Mister Hat glanced shyly at Phantom Striker much like a schoolgirl with a crush, and when his eyes fell upon the magnificent helmet of spikes, a lovely aura of blue and yellow appeared around the stormbringer's head. He blushed hotly and tore his gaze away. The latter noticed his odd behavior, and raised a brow.
"Mister Hat. Is there something wrong with me? Please be honest. You have been looking at me in an odd manner."
"N-nothing. Don't mind me!" The hat lover shivered, cursing himself under his breath.
The party abruptly stopped. Baz and Reize stared at the pair, then glanced knowingly at each other. The two brotherly friends smiled stupidly at each other as they watched Mister Hat stutter and fumble at the cuffs of his sleeves.
"Mister Hat, are you alright? Look at me. Oh, no. You are red, much like a ripe tomato from Rome in the southeast, but you are no tomato. You are a human, I presume, as you look much like one. Are you fatigued? Must we stop to rest? Your fragile and older mortal body may not be able to handle having to walk so far. We may take time to set up camp. The powerful sorcerer's hats and cloaks can wait for us."
"No, no, I-I'm fine."
"JUST SPIT IT OUT, HAT." Baz impatiently bellowed.
"Why… must he spit out something? Has he eaten anything that has upset him? Is it… deadly nightshade?" Phantom Striker innocently asked, before gazing back at his hat-loving friend. "I have seen many plants of deadly nightshade in our trek, and he has expressed hunger many times. I… think I can help. I have mild emetic poison to help you vomit out whatev-"
"I… y-you're beautiful! I love you!" Mister Hat screamed, grabbing Phantom Striker's clothes and pulling him closer. "I LOVE YOU! PLEASE BE MY PARTNER! I HAVE LOVED YOU SINCE I SET EYES ON YOU!"
"Mother Orage!" The stormbringer yelped in utter surprise, reaching up to the skies. He never knew panic until that moment.
His mother decided to stay up in the heavens to watch over her half-human son while shaking her head and chortling at what was unfolding in a forest in Pridemoor. The goddess of the moon laughed along with her. Basically, the the sky above Pridemoor was filled to the brim with divine spirits and lesser gods all watching their cute nephew.
Gloved hands grabbed two of the spikes on his helmet, and yanked the helm off. Completely flabbergasted, he didn't immediately turn his head into a void. He actually used his cape to conceal his head and hair before it became a black cloud shrouding his true face in obscurity.
Three of the Wandering Travellers stared in shock at Mister Hat kissing and then proposing marriage to the spiky helmet. Reize and Baz shared a glance that only said, "I don't know what the fuck just happened and that's not what we thought would happen". Phantom Striker watched in horror. Apparently the helmet, which was an actual body part of the half-human, was going to be married in a few minutes.
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X is for experience.
"I cannot help but shiver." Phantom Striker squeezed his eyes shut, a few inches away from deciding to curl up into a ball. "Mother, please, help me."
"I think your mom's not in the mood…" Reize said, and awkwardly pat his friend's shoulder. Phantom Striker made a sound much like a sob and a sigh together.
Baz gasped. "His helmet just got engaged, Reize! He needs some emotional support!"
The stormbringer waved it off, and gestured to the general direction of Mister Hat. "It is not so horrible, but… the sensation… of kisses on my helmet..."
"You can feel the helmet." Baz said in a low voice.
"Of course. Did you not know?" He looked up, and for the rope-lasher, four eyes stared at him with curiosity.
"You can feel the helmet?!" Baz repeated, this time with his voice cracking by the last syllable.
"Yes. This… is a new experience… I feel a certain warmth on my cheeks."
"That's called blushing." Reize murmured.
"What does it mean?"
"Ehh… love or embarrassment."
"Well then, I am embarrassed, beyond the scale of human cognition."
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X is for extend.
"Le chevalier noir!" A Hover Meanie screeched. "Un intrus!"
Black Knight suddenly found himself surrounded by an entire squad of Hoverhafts, their sharp halberds pointed at him. The Hover Meanie he signed to had just flown away, yelling something in French, and suddenly Propeller Knight's soldiers encircled him.
"What's your business here?" One of the Hoverhafts snarled.
"I wanted to ask if Mona's here, and only that." Black Knight answered, a little intimidated. Even with the visible desecration of his body, even with his wings, they didn't let an ounce of fear slip through their voices and stances. "I need to get to her. Plague Knight needs her."
"Everyone back off. That man isn't going to hurt us." A woman shouted out, and he recognized that voice as Mona's. The Hoverhafts flew backwards, but still held their weapons.
"Mona. Plague Knight-"
"Tell him I don't need him if he doesn't need me." She hissed at him, her voice full of contempt.
"No, listen. I'm the one to blame here. You two are for each other, and it was really my fault for straining it." His words came out quickly afterwards. "Look, I'm sorry, but right now it's going to be really bad if you don't come with me."
"He can handle himself."
"So why on earth were you trying to pay me to get the Enchantress' essence? You didn't want him hurt, didn't you?" He half-yelled at her, and then he gestured to the Tower of Fate. "He's climbing up that Tower to do just that and if you don't come, he'll be seriously hurt!"
The fury in Mona's mind and heart died down. "Plaguey… going up to the Enchantress?"
"Exactly, and you have to stop him. He loves you, and he thinks that potion is the only way for you to love him!"
An image of Plague Knight's tiny body being crushed under a relentless stream of magic from the Enchantress flashed in her mind. She could hear her evil cackling as her beloved Plaguey screeched in the white-hot pain.
"Will explain it to you later, but I have wings, so I can fly you to the Tower of Fate in a matter of minutes, and I can defend you from the evil creeping in there."
She smirked. "It'll be nice having you as backup. I have many things that go boom anyway."
Upon hearing that, one of the Hoverhafts turned to his squad issue his orders. "Mona va bientôt s'en partir. Va chercher une des infirmières pour la remplacer." The squad leader faced the two. "He'll be alone, and he'll need someone to take care of him. Please get back here as soon as you could."
"No. He's not there." Mona muttered. "Albrecht's not there."
"What?!"
"He snuck off to the Tower of Fate to find your captain."
"Oh putain, maintenant on doit les secourir tous les deux. In that case, you two, please fly to the Tower. We will follow. If Plague Knight is going to fight the Enchantress, we need to recover our fellow crew members and our two captains."
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X is for xylophone.
"I have to leave now." Treasure Knight murmured. He took his sack and flung it over his shoulder. He walked towards the door, not sparing a look. "I have some people to meet tonight. See you." The Order of No Quarter, he didn't say. He didn't have the heart to say he was Treasure Knight. There was just something about the old bird person.
Darwin clucked in surprise, diverting his gaze from the gem he was polishing to look up at the burly man. "Anthony, when you leave, I'd hope you would be less surprising and would say things, well, somewhat in a more friendly way. I know you're cold and distant, though. It's fine. But I still hope."
Treasure Knight stopped in his tracks. He's right, a voice in his heart softly spoke, there's no real need to be a jerk to someone kind to you.
Darwin took note of his pause, and continued. "There wasn't any need for you to stick around, you know. And I pay you low wages. None of the young men I hired were of any help, until you came along. Can't really trust people who are able-bodied enough to fight for the revolution. Since the Enchantress took over the land, I figured I wouldn't be able to walk outside with her goons trying to steal my most precious treasures. I feel safe with a person around me. The least I can do for you is thank you, Anthony."
Anthony. The knight sighed. "I guess. Darwin, I will leave now."
"There's a revolution in Pridemoor right now. The castle is being stormed, but we're quite far. I'll be alright." The old bird man seemed to not care about the fact his companion never asked about his safety, yet he still uttered it.
"Be safe then."
"I have a small xylophone to play, it's from my travels! It has always given me good luck when I play it. Tonight, when I play a tune on it, I'll pray for your safety, too, wherever you go."
"Thank you. I'll return soon… hopefully." Treasure Knight hurriedly stepped out and carefully closed the door.
He could hear the melancholic, slightly off-key melody of a xylophone as he walked away, to the direction of his Iron Whale to put on his armor and travel to the Tower of Fate.
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X is for excalibur.
The revolutionaries, having torn through the gilded walls of Pridemoor's Keep, destroyed King Knight's corruption. They gladly ripped off every hint of his corruption inside the keep. The paintings, the curtains, the chandeliers, the murder holes-all of his creations were destroyed in their united rage. Bombs were thrown, the soldiers sang their anthems, walls fell, and servants shuffled out to help bring down the statues of the usurper.
Chaos reigned for that fateful night. The keep was blazed in the fires of a skirmish. Walls forcibly made into gold from granite almost melted in the heat. The halls of the king of Pridemoor were being cleansed with fresh pools of blood and burning flame.
From the high viewing point in the Tower of Fate, he could see his favorite shades of orange and yellow marring his favorite place in a very bad way.
As King Knight descended the steps of the Tower, shaking his head to sobriety, he raised his fist angrily. The Goldarmor that confirmed to him that urgent news was upstairs, heavily dented by a now-broken scepter. Years of torment of his past came back to him, being trampled on and ignored, finally taking what was his to begin with, and there would still be people who wish to step on him. His heart pounded in his ribs, and he doubled over against the wall, tears suddenly streaming down his face, eyes wide and staring at the emptiness of the damp stone bricks.
King Knight seethed, wishing that the snapped scepter he held was an Excalibur. The sword in the stone, the one only the true king can pull and lift. The Excalibur of legend granted power to anyone who can take it, and upon the king's death, it would be returned to the Lady of the Lake.
He desperately willed for it to become one.
"Become the Excalibur of eons past…" His voice cracked, shaking as he commanded. He wished for an unknown magic in the world to do it, a benevolent spirit to take pity on his farce of a life. "Give me the power I seek from you!"
Alas, nothing happened.
His anger boiled over, and he let out a defeated scream.
If only that divine sword truly existed, but he already turned himself into a servant of an evil demoness from hell.
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X is for xyst.
The slave boy put down the bucket by the well, breathing heavily. He bent and rested his hands on his knees, letting his head hang down. The xyst was a quiet place. A maze of trees and bushes was around the poor abused boy. He heard no rustling of grass or leaves, and so he slowly sat down, resting his back against the stone well.
He sighed in relief. The feeling of the cold stone pressing against his tired back felt so relieving, as if the pain and fatigue left his body through his skin and to the unfeeling slabs of rock. When he opened his golden eyes, the soughing of wind greeted him, and cooled his flushed face. He breathed in deliciously fresh air. He had always noticed this about trees. Air moving around their mighty forms was always rejuvenating in a sort of way.
The xyst was part of a grove, and he closed his eyes again. Never mind them, he told himself, I'm peaceful here and I'm better than them all anyway. One day I'll get the peace I need.
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X is for excavators.
For the sorcerer, the world seemed to be distant, yet somehow… clear. It was devoid of bad fog for the first time in more than a decade.
It was like something out of a sweet dream. The sun rising out of its slumber under the sea, painting the sea stark oranges, light violets, and night's blues. The breeze of the dawn blowing on his face and cloak. The sand was beginning to cool down from under his feet. In as far as his astral eye could see, he could see a flying airship full of fineries cruised in the skies towards the north. A small smile was on his face, uncorrupted by loneliness. The seashore was a good home of a water mage like Anart.
Just like how it was before she trapped me, Anart thought, and then his lips curled into a smile. It looks awfully normal, somehow. I wonder where my forest fairy friends are? I've never seen them until some time after then. But I miss my old friends. I miss the spirit of all water, Undine, I miss the mermaids, I miss the Crab Lord… damn, his minions are tasty… wonder if I can still cook his son, though… holy shit why did I want to eat the Crab Prince?!
Anart felt water flow and swirl languidly around his body. It was cold, but not too cold. Gentle chills soothed the ache all over his body. His arms felt numb. While drifting in and out of lucidity, he willed his limbs to wiggle a bit just to check if they were there.
"I think he's waking up."
"I thought he wasn't gonna wake up. I saw bone there… I thought he really was gonna die..."
"He's waking up…"
"Who's that…?" His vision blurred again, and the color of overcast skies clouded his sight. There were more hushed whispers, and he could only make out the phrase, 'he's still alive'.
Wind caressed his face and singed hair. He breathed in and out, still noting the cool water from his neck downwards. His natural silver-gray eyes cracked open, and in his spotty vision, he saw the unclear haze of trees and water.
Water?
He blinked, and then realized he was sitting in a chair inside a large tub of water. He breathed in deeply, and the water immediately around him slightly glowed. The burns on his body caused by the unholy flame that attacked him began to glow white, and heal. The minions and students watched with slight morbid fascination at how the flesh that had been scorched almost down to the bone started to regenerate. Flesh and skin slowly reappeared, water replacing the parts lost to fire. And with the process of healing, Anart was finally able to open his eyes wide. And with his return, the slight shakiness and the odd multicolored lights floating all around returned to his vision. He sighed. I feel insane again. I was enjoying my time being sane. Oh well.
"What happened?" Anart asked just before the memory of the firestorm surrounding him came back. "Oh. Well, I fixed that already, haha!"
"Sorcerer, you just woke up from being fatally burned and you're laughing." Mole Knight sighed, partly out of of relief and partly out of puzzlement. "I think this means you're okay, though. Thank the yacht gods..."
Anart grinned, inwardly grimacing at the intense pain. "Well, I'm clearly the best magic user in these parts. I'm alive! Haha! Eat my living toasted asshole, you demon snake!" He cackled, but it didn't last. He started hacking out his lungs, coughing out globules of blood and flesh mixed together. All of them stared in shock at the red blood mixing with the water.
"You need to heal. Tonight's the mourning dinner in the Tower of Fate, so I'll be gone. Tinker Knight's also-"
"What? A dinner? Why am I not invited?!"
"Well, in your terms, Anart, the entire Order of No Quarter lost to one knight. I would love to take notes how he digs better than I do!" Mole Knight shrugged, smiling under his helmet. "I also know Tinker Knight is plotting to shoot missiles at the Enchantress. I told him I wanted to help him do just that." He faced his excavation team with a wistful grin. "Can't let myself see you all in danger again, so I'll fight now."
Anart couldn't find the words to say. His expression darkened, the scowl on his face contrasting his usual happy demeanor. He jabbed a finger on Mole Knight's chestplate. "You're going to die. That's the Enchantress. I almost died to her. You're not even a magic user."
A student, the shortest one out of the rescued bunch, walked up to the anthropologist-knight, and hugged his clawed hands. "I don't want you dead..."
"I might be." He ruffled the teen's hair. "You all. Take care of yourselves, oka-"
"No, no." He lifted his hand up to his mouth to wipe away the blood. "Damn it, you idiot. You realize I'm here? You're insulting a fine gentleman for not recognizing his skills."
"Anart, you need to heal. I can do this on my own. Your power will be-"
"Piss in a glass and cross my heart. I'll do my best. On second thought, no need to piss in a glass, there's plenty of water here." He heaved, pulling himself upright and on his feet. The water still healing his burnt flesh still clung to him.
The excavators all watched as Anart's eyes glowed green, auras of green and yellow appearing around his entire body.
"I call upon you, magical power that is always at my side. Bring the fat man in fiery red armor to the lair of the demoness and may he and his allies never be struck with her lethal spells!"
Mole Knight didn't use his time to slap a palm to his head at Anart calling him fat. Instead he hurried to shield his eyes from the bright white light emanating from the sorcerer.
And Mole Knight was gone in seconds, teleported to the Tower of Fate. He fell over, and watched as tiny specks of yellow, green, blue, and red floated languidly around him, before zooming to many directions at once. He sat on the ground for a while, eyes wide.
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X is for extinction.
"He's gone." The shortest student brought his hand up to his wet eyes. "I don't want Mole Knight to die. I hope he doesn't die."
"Me, too." "He's like our big brother." "He took care of us while underground."
"Hey! Don't be afraid, I'm here! No one's going to die tonight! I swear it!" Anart yelled while coughing out more blood. Red liquid trickled down from the sides of his mouth, and his knees almost gave out under his weight. Drops of water floated to him and entered his body through his newly-healed flesh, desperately trying to heal his rapidly deteriorating lungs. He laughed bitterly, eyes flashing back to his natural silver-gray once more. Yet he resisted doubling over. He raised his hands to the sky, facing north. He yelled out his last spell, and this time, there were no no bright lights, no magical streams, nothing. Only his hammy proclamations served as his theatric.
"One of my most powerful mystic magical artes, trap the demons in the Tower! I call upon the inevitable extinction of demons in this land!"
Nothing happened for the next few seconds. Anart sighed.
"Well, if I die tonight, then so be it." He sighed, and turned north to gaze at the Tower. "I really hate looking at you, so I hope that the fog and black clouds don't destroy the scenery anymore, when I'm dead. Hahaha! Good night, folks! And fuck you, Enchantress! My last spell for tonight is called 'go fuck yourself'!"
Steam suddenly formed, dissipating into the air as thick smoke. After a short while, the crowd found that the sorcerer had disappeared. Tattered fancy clothes and the remnants of a hooded cloak floated in the water, now tainted red.
The team of anthropologists found themselves alone, and they retreated to their digging site to pray for the safety of all.
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X is for exhaustion.
He felt the cold floor on his cheek. His entire body felt so sore. His arms were twisted behind his back and bound by rope. His legs felt cold and bare, and he could feel the tight rope on his ankles.
Propeller Knight tried to open his eyes against the blindfold. His thoughts went back to his best friend, and then suddenly panicked. He writhed on the floor. The last he remembered of Albrecht was that he was somehow in the Tower of Fate when he gave orders not to let him out of his room-
"Oh, he's avake. Get his blindfold and gag off. I vant to see his pazhetic eyes and hear his stupid voice vhile he pleads."
Propeller Knight's heart was crushed. Albrecht's voice was seething with poison and pure rage. Pathetic…? Did… he call my eyes pathetic… and my voice…? What's happening… he always told me I look nice and I have a light voice.
Two hands ripped the cloth covering his mouth and eyes. Someone grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and yanked him up for him to kneel before… Albrecht.
The German's arms were crossed. His furious gaze was different. When Propeller Knight looked at his blue eyes, all he could see was the blue fire of passionate hatred and not the usual vigilant glare. Looking around, the bound knight saw several of his Hoverhafts sneering at him. He could name all of them. He could sense from their souls the contempt they felt for him. It all broke his heart.
"What's happening? Why are you angry at me? I… you were in the Tower of Fate with me, Al-"
His crew laughed at him, the captain. Even his second-in-command cackled at him cruelly. Propeller Knight looked around, and called them all by their names. "Laurent… Marcus… Pierre… Henri…. Philippe… why are you all laughing at me? Answer me now! I'm your captain!"
"You're not the captain anymore." Pierre laughed even more, clutching his stomach. "Look at you. You're just so pitiful."
"Vhat an idiot…" Albrecht stepped forward, and delivered a strong backhanded slap on the bound Frenchman's face. "I am captain now. I led the mutiny. I've conquered the Valley now. The Enchantress is gone. I am the lord of this land."
Hazel eyes started to flood with tears. Albrecht's icy glare pierced into his soul, injecting burning poison into his heart. "No… you're… only possessed… Albrecht, you'll never do this. You're a morally good person! I don't even remember a mutiny! I remember getting drunk in the Tower of Fate!"
"I did it. Doesn't matter vhat you remember. I remember zhat."
"No… why? Why would you? I thought that all you wanted was my happiness." His tears finally fell. He tried to plead to his former crew with his tears and his voice.
A voice similar to Albrecht's softly spoke to him.
I do. Please hear me.
Albrecht scoffed, and then lifted his former superior upwards by the front of his now-torn and dirty jacket. He forced the ex-captain face-to-face with him, and spoke his next words with all the disgust in the world. "Vhen ve all told you ve vanted to go home, you decided to stay. Stay, because you hate your family. Ve don't hate our families. We miss home. We miss zhe freedom of zhe wind. It was somezhing you told us vas vhat ve deserved. Freedom. Zhen you keep us in zhat hell of an Order!"
"N-no… I didn't want you to… this isn't real! This is just an illusion, isn't it?"
"Hypocrite. No more. I don't want to listen to you anymore." Albrecht gestured for everyone to file out of the cell. Once everyone was out, he picked the bound man up, looked into his eyes for one fleeting moment, threw him to the floor, and then fished out a dirty rag from his pocket to tie around the other man's mouth. Propeller Knight shook his head violently, weeping and begging. He protested as loud as he could, kicked at his friend's ankles, and thrashed. The thought of it all being just a nightmare manifested in his intense fear of mutiny was muted by the stinging slaps and kicks his body endured.
A hard punch to the temple stunned the captive. He fell to the floor with a thud, and then he was suddenly yanked upright. He was forced to look up at the dead eyes of his "friend".
Albrecht's eyes were devoid of expression, almost as if he was exhausted of the former captain. Once tied, he turned to leave, but looked at the sobbing knight one last time. "Ve von't open zhis door anymore. There will be food delivered to you once a day through zhat hole. Zhis vill be your coffin. Goodbye, and see you in hell."
No, the prisoner tried to scream out, but the gag stopped his words from coming out.
Albrecht sighed. "It's such a pity. I loved you…"
The door closed, leaving Propeller Knight inside the dark room.
.
X is for xanthic.
"You are finally dying of my poison. You are going to die in a few minutes." The Enchantress' voice echoed inside his mind.
"I have to…" Albrecht looked up at his superior. Propeller Knight was still encased in a levitating cocoon of sparkling turquoise magic. He could clearly see the figure of the airship captain curled up inside and shuddering, and could clearly hear the frightened and broken-hearted whimpering. Albrecht knew. Propeller Knight had a slightly different way of crying when feeling happy, sad, or frightened. He could tell his emotions, and whether they were real or not.
He trudged towards the hovering shell, his knees and back screaming in torment. Never did a few steps seem so far for the Hoverhaft. Every tiny twitch was like pulling a carriage of forty fat men, and every time his soles touched the floor it seemed like stone had turned into quicksand. Still, he willed his body to move. He clawed his way to him, ignoring the sickly yellow on his body?
"Albrecht… you'll never do this…" Propeller Knight abruptly wailed.
Albrecht hissed through his teeth, finally realizing what was happening. "I'm here… it's me. Vhatever zhat vitch makes you see isn't real..."
As he forced himself to get closer, his vision slowly blurred and yellowed.
"I thought that all you wanted was my happiness…" Propeller Knight continued to cry, and he started to thrash in his confines. Sadly, the darkness swirling around him was too much.
"I do. Please hear me." The agony was starting to overwhelm him. He tilted his head up to see only dark yellows and blues whirling around in place of the turquoise haze that surrounded his dear friend. He felt the hard stone hit him.
I'm sorry, my Käsekuchen… I can't save you. Maybe we'll see each other again soon. I'm dying, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I love you.
And then, without warning, lavender and purple saturated his vision, before everything faded.
The Enchantress cackled, shattering the pitch black. "You love him? So pitiful. He loves you too."
Albrecht couldn't answer. He could only groan out, and will himself into defiance. Pain assaulted his nerves, shooting through his legs and arms like blunt sticks being rammed into his flesh and drilling into bones.
"I'll torture you two first before you have your wedding in hell, so you wouldn't be star-crossed."
.
X is for excellence.
"The unnatural storm to the north grows stronger." Phantom Striker mumbled to himself, frowning. "It is borne of dark magic, and one of the reasons I came here is to expunge the disease that is the demoness that haunts this land."
"The Tower of Fate creeps me out." Reize fidgeted on his gloves. "Striker, gotta tell you. I got stuck in there once. It hurt so bad. I don't want to go back there ever."
"Ah, Reize." He turned his head to the warrior-in-training, holding his hand out to invite the young man to step closer. "Did you not go there years ago in search of your father?"
"Probably. I mean, I don't remember what happened, just that there was a lot of pain."
He noted the dazed look in Reize's eyes. "Let us not dwell on it. You must sleep with the others. Mister Hat waits for us inside, and Baz is already asleep."
"But didn't the Order of No Quarter and Shovel Knight get in there? There are rumors around, Striker, and Shovel Knight has actually been a good knight all this time! We should help him! Maybe he's alone! Maybe he's fighting the scary red Apparition! He's scary..."
Phantom Striker hissed, his blood boiling at the mention of Specter Knight. "Dishonorable coward… I will send him to hell, the place where his vile self belongs."
"We should help them! I'm scared, I might pee, but we should help people in need!" Reize grabbed his new friend's cape and tugged hard, much to the stormbringer's chagrin. "Come on! Knight's Code!"
"The tenets of the sky are power and honor… I suppose we should help…"
.
X is for extra.
"Good thing I have a contingency plan." Tinker Knight murmured to himself, brushing off the dirt on his arms and internally grumbling at the bruises and wounds from the earlier drunken duking.
While striding towards his quarters in the Tower of Fate, he blinked and blinked some more, expecting some kind of headache to grace him with its annoying presence, but when it didn't come, he bolted into a sprint.
No time to lose, he told himself. Plague Knight and Mole Knight, my accompli-
"Woah!"
It was too late. Tinker Knight bumped face-first into red metal with a clang, and bounced backward. He landed gracelessly onto the stone floor, and that was the moment the headache arrived.
"Oh, Tinker, sorry! I was looking for you. Are you alright?"
The engineer growled under his breath half-wishing that it was socially acceptable to say one was hurt by that kind of impact. A migraine was the worst thing to have at any time, let alone in a middle of a plot to overthrow their boss.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Help me up." Tinker Knight held his arm up, and Mole Knight carefully grabbed the tiny man's hand between two of his claws. With enough force to grip his friend's hand, he pulled him up. The engineer dusted himself off again, and huffed.
"Plague Knight stole our essences, but I'm still going to stick with our plot to get us out of this hell." The anthropologist spoke up. "We don't exactly have a plan right now."
"Our plan is to have you and me pilot the Destroyer."
"And we'll empty it all on the Enchantress? Is that even a plan? Well, I mean, I hired a sorce-"
"Empty what on the Enchantress?" A third voice interrupted. "A plan?"
Both doctors of their fields turned their heads to see Treasure Knight now standing a few paces away from the two of them, helmet up and exposing his scarred face. His face betrayed no emotion.
"Mole Knight and Tinker Knight, are you planning to overthrow the Enchantress?"
.
X is for expel.
"Rr…" The green Liquid Samurai hunched over, its bow losing cohesion and disappearing in its body. It held its throbbing head, touching the gem, while screaming in pain. It fell, becoming an inert blob to shield itself from pain, but it still shrieked. The gem on its forehead glowed, and then suddenly shook wildly in place.
"Midori!"
Several other samurai approached their comrade, alarmed by its sudden pain. One of the blue shifters picked up its friend, petting the blob and holding it close to its chest and swaying a little bit to try mitigating its agony. Ao cooed and shushed its whimpering friend.
No one expected it when another one, a swordsman, began to screech and hold its face and neck. The jewel on his forehead also glowed and trembled, a dark thrumming emanating from it.
"Aka!"
Suddenly, every samurai around it fell to their knees, hands clutching the purple gems stuck on their head. Moans of pain filled the hall. The Tower rumbled. Bricks began to fall down, the glass of the windows shattered. The poor blue Ao samurai gathered their screaming friends and began to pull them towards the now-open windows where they can safely fall to the ground.
Up next: Y is for yesterday.
Va te faire foutre! Je vais te tuer espèce de bâtard! - Kiss my arse! I'll kill you, you bastard!
Mona va bientôt s'en partir. Va chercher une des infirmières pour la remplacer. - Mona is going to leave. Go get one of the nurses to replace her.
Oh putain, maintenant on doit les secourir tous les deux. - Oh fuck, now we have to rescue them both.