Chapter Forty-Five: The Wrong Guy
The rain pounded hard on the forest floor, turning the ground below into a large mud puddle. Hood Sickle ran through these woods, slipping and sliding through, but intent on pushing on despite how awful the burning sensation in his legs was. He could hear voices shouting after him, and decided not to look at the Trap Masters hunting him down. He couldn't let them catch him again. He couldn't go back to that horrible prison.
Hood Sickle found a cave in the side of a cliff, and quickly ran inside. He panted heavily, and was unable to silence himself no matter how much he wanted to. He looked outside, watching through the trees as the Trap Masters halted, looking for his tracks. One of them wailed in frustration, and a conversation followed.
"This rain is washing away any tracks he might have made," a short cloth man yelled. "He might as well have gotten away."
"Don't say that, mate," a blue crocagator argued. "We've been on the bloke's trail for days. He knows it, too, and he knows he can't run any farther. We'll catch 'im tomorrow, after this rain stops. He has to be around here somewhere, but it'll do us no good to fight against the elements as we search."
Hood Sickle watched them leave, waiting until they disappeared into the trees before he started moving again. His body shook in the cold, but he forced himself to trudge deeper into the cave. His aching feet felt heavier than bricks, his weak arms felt like limp logs, and his bloodshot eyes yearned to close at every second. After making it to the very back of the cave, Hood Sickle pressed his back to the wall, sliding down to the ground in exhaustion.
This is a good spot to catch my breath, Hood Sickle thought. Or a good place to die. It beats having those darned Trap Masters after me. They didn't even ask what I did. None of them asked.
He unclenched his right fist, an act which turned out to hurt more than he thought it would. A small gray crystal Trap was in the center of his palm, though he noticed that it was starting to turn dark. He wrapped his fingers around it again, giving an uneasy chuckle at his shaking hand. Hood Sickle could hardly recall the fight he had in order to get his Trap from those wardens. He could hardly recall anything from the past few days he spent on the run, trying to stay just one step ahead of the Trap Masters trying to send him back.
Hood Sickle wrapped his arms around his body, shivering. He felt like crying, though he was too weak to do so. He was cold, tired and hungry. He had no idea where he was, or even where he was going. Hood Sickle thought about what the crocagator had said, and wondered if he really couldn't go any farther. Surely he would die if he attempted it.
But he would not go back to Cloudcracker. He knew he didn't belong there. And he would not let anyone send him back.
Hood Sickle had spent years, maybe decades, within the Traptanium walls of Cloudcracker Prison.
It had started on a rather gloomy day on the surface Skylands, when it was cloudy but not yet rainy. Hood Sickle had already gained a reputation for being a frightening fellow. His freaky hood and large scythe gave him a menacing picture, and he usually popped up right in front of people. It was a different time back then, when ghouls had to be threatening when visiting the surface in order to survive. If Hood Sickle was good at one thing, it was surviving.
On that specific day, he had been wandering around near a small bakery when a crime in progress occurred. A large rat ran by, having stolen many goods. A few bystanders were around, shouting at the rat to drop the items he had, and the Trap Masters of the day hadn't yet arrived on the scene. Not usually one to be a hero, Hood Sickle decided to step in, teleporting up behind the rat and knocking him to the ground.
But then the Trap Masters came onto the scene, and Hood Sickle was the one they apprehended. To them, it had looked like Hood Sickle had assaulted a regular villager. He tried teleporting away, but one of the Trap Masters stunned him with blow darts to keep him in place. The bystanders were still around, but they looked away from the event, unwilling to dignify it, as if they were just used to having bad things happen around them. Or they just wanted a creep like him gone forever.
Well, he'd certainly watched his freedom vanish before his eyes.
Years passed, Trap Masters came and went. He'd gotten a lick of freedom two years ago when the old prison was destroyed, going with Pain-Yatta in order to try and hide from them. But the two of them had both been captured once more, held securely by the current Trap Masters even during the Rift Crisis. He figured that the piñata monster was still in their custody.
It had only been a chance moment when Hood Sickle had gotten a hold of his Trap. Cloudcracker Prison had been rebuilt, and they were preparing to lock up the inmates that hadn't reformed. They'd released him from his Trap just before putting him in a new cell. Thinking quickly, he tackled the warden down and stole the Trap away. He didn't focus on finding his weapon or any supplies, and simply ran away from the prison with a train of Trap Masters behind him.
Birds tweeted just outside of the cave, greeting the morning and saying goodbye to the night's storm. The night before, his mind had battled with his eyes to stay conscious- and his eyes had won. Hood Sickle found himself opening them, his sight blurry for a moment. His right hand wasn't clenched in a fist, and as his attention came into focus, he suddenly found himself scared. Hood Sickle was immediately on his feet, searching for the Trap, and unable to find it.
Oh no, oh no, it was gone! The Trap Masters hadn't found him, had they!? Oh, where was it!?
Chuckling was suddenly heard outside of the cave. Hood Sickle staggered out to find it, his body still aching. Though still weak and weary, maybe unable to carry out another trip, he decided that he felt better than he had last night. Exiting the cave to a wet and squishy forest, Hood Sickle spotted a purple desert sphinx directly next to the cave entrance. The sphinx was fiddling with something in his hands, smiling as the tiny crystal object glittered in the early morning sun. It was gray, though much more of it had turned dark. It was Hood Sickle's Trap!
"Most curious indeed," the sphinx mused. "It's rare for one to change Elements like that."
Hood Sickle tried shouting at him, but a hoarse cough came out instead. He suddenly remembered how thirsty he was as well. The cough seemed to get the sphinx's attention. He looked at Hood Sickle, the grin going away for a minute as his lips pursed in thought, though the sparkle in his eyes stayed where it was.
"Good morning, lost prisoner," the sphinx greeted him. "Guess how surprised I was to find you in there. It was very curious indeed. They're looking for you, you know. The Trap Masters. They called in last night for assistance."
Hood Sickle nodded.
"I can't do anything just yet. I'm on a scouting mission, and I was most displeased to be passed up to lead it. I can't do anything until i get the word from the mission leader about how to proceed. In another time, you might use this as an opportunity to escape, and I'd gladly let you get a head start. But this wet ground is perfect for tracking prints, and you, Sleeping Prince, don't look so hot."
"...Give it back," Hood Sickle whimpered weakly.
The sphinx looked at the Trap in his hand. "I can't do that either without mission leader's word. All I can do is ask questions, and you are in no position to refuse."
His legs wobbled beneath him, and he knelt to the ground.
"Look at you, formerly mighty Hood Sickle. You've fought so hard to get here, haven't you? Running as fast as you can, covering your tracks, holding onto this little token as if it holds your life in it. Maybe it does- and that's why you pushed yourself far past your limit. You seek your freedom, and you know in your heart that you don't belong in that shiny prison."
Hood Sickle's hand trembled feebly.
"I have a knack for these things, silly. It is a shame to see you like this, the goal just in sight, and unable to reach it."- the sphinx's ears perked up in alarm- "Alas, our chat must conclude. I believe the mission leader's coming back."
Hood Sickle felt nauseous, perhaps from physical illness, perhaps from the anger and depression building up within him. This overgrown cat was a Skylander, connected with the Trap Masters in some way. They were surely going to contact the Trap Masters about him. He'd lost. After trying so hard to get away from them, he'd lost.
A tall knight walked through the trees, coming up to the sphinx's side. The animal piece on his head looked to be that of a horned animal's maw, though his face was shrouded in darkness aside from glowing white eyes. He wore the same armor as the sphinx- black and gold with a belt tied around the waist. He carried a large blue-and-gold sword with the blade in two points at the tip, making him look pretty menacing.
"Alright, Mysticat, I've scoured the north and east ends of the woods and have come up with nothing to report," the knight told the sphinx. "What have you found on your search through the south and west ends?"
"Why, a fallen prince, a bruised soul, and an escaped prisoner lying at my feet, all encased in the same fractured body," the sphinx, Mysticat, replied.
The knight looked over Hood Sickle, eyes widened in shock and pity. "He's the one that the Trap Masters called us in about, right?"
"Just the same. I have his precious token with me as well- the Trap. What would be most morally sound- to send him back to prison, or to take him in until he's ready to go on his way to freedom?"
The knight kept his eyes on Hood Sickle, the look of pity growing even stronger. "What are you talking morality with me, for?" he asked. "I don't know anything about morality."
"So what are you thinking?"
"Let's convince the others not to call him in. If he's fought this hard for his freedom, I have a feeling it was a mistake to lock him up."
"My thoughts exactly."
The two of them helped Hood Sickle to his feet. Hood Sickle found himself wobbling as they went along, and the two Skylanders practically carried him. This act made him feel worse. While he didn't mind accepting help from others, he still grappled with the loss that had inevitably been handed to him as these Skylanders took him in. And then there was the fact that they were sticking their necks out for him. From past experience, it had gotten him into trouble when he went to do that.
"...I'm sorry...," he coughed.
"Don't worry about it," the knight insisted.
Hood Sickle's eyes closed once again, despite the effort he'd had of keeping them open. When he next woke, he found himself in a bed someplace. The room he was in had blue tinted walls, and was rather empty save for a nightstand with a clock on it. He heard little snorts near him, and he craned his head to spot a dozing Mysticat draped on the bed by his feet.
The door creaked open, revealing the knight carrying a tray filled to the brim with food and drink. He let out a sigh when he saw Mysticat.
"C'mon, Mysty, don't tell me you're falling ill, too," the knight grumbled.
Mysticat stirred, rubbing an eye. "I'm afraid sleep is an inviting companion, no matter your level of health," he yawned. "I believe our dear friend has refused it for so long."
"The reason he's so exhausted is because he's hungry and thirsty. Believe me, I know what that feels like, and it's unpleasant. Now scoot over."
Mysticat did, and the knight set the tray on Hood Sickle's lap. "Let me see how much of that you can eat in thirty minutes, just to see how well you really are," he challenged him.
"Now, Wildstorm, you can't overload a starving person like that," Mysticat argued. "You'll pop the balloon if you fill it too quickly. Hood Sickle could get sick that way, all over your room, and that wouldn't be good at all for any of us."
Hood Sickle sat up a tiny bit. "This is your place?" he said in a scratchy voice.
"This is just the room where I sleep," Wildstorm insisted. "And I could sleep anywhere else if need be."
"You...you really don't have to-"
"All we ask is that you don't take up more time than needed in getting well."
Mysticat's tail flicked in the air. "You'll be happy to know that we convinced the others not to rat you out to the Trap Masters," he beamed. "The rest of the Senseis will protect you as a secret, hiding you away until it's necessary to let you go."
Hood Sickle rubbed an eye. "I haven't failed yet?"
"Our paths are in the stars, and the stars are always changing and rearranging themselves. We must change with them, or else we truly will fail."
Wildstorm leaned on the wall. "What he means is that you still have a chance at freedom," he explained. "We can try and help you get there, if you let us."
Mysticat grinned. "I hear the Lost Islands are nice this time of year."
Hood Sickle grabbed a glass of water from the tray, slowly drinking out of it. So he hadn't failed yet. He couldn't allow himself to fail. And he also couldn't allow himself to weaken like this again. He had a feeling that he would need a lot of their help in order to gain his freedom.
He spent the next few days at this Dojo of theirs, slowly recuperating. Soon he was able to walk without staggering around, and even carry a heavy war scythe around. The Senseis had allowed Hood Sickle to keep his trap, and the item had slowly changed until it had turned completely dark. For some odd reason, they seemed to believe him about being wrongfully imprisoned at Cloudcracker.
One day, Wildstorm took him out into the yard for training practice. Hood Sickle dodged every swing that the knight delivered. He thrust the war scythe at him, to which Wildstorm swiftly dodged. Hood Sickle teleported near him, knocking him off balance just a bit. Wildstorm quickly regained his center, however, and managed to knock Hood Sickle onto the ground.
Mysticat stood out there, watching their sparring session. "Right straight! Upper cut! Thrust!" he shouted at them.
"Those moves aren't even related to what we're doing," Wildstorm insisted.
"Right, but I'm not quite sure which moves you guys are doing."
Hood Sickle sat on the ground for a moment, his head swimming. He wasn't quite well enough for this much rigorous activity yet, but he was getting there. Wildstorm helped him up, grabbing him some water. "Not ready yet, huh?" he asked.
"I'm alright, but I think we should stop for now," Hood Sickle nodded.
"You fight well, though. I wonder how you'll fight once you're back to one hundred percent."
The knight gave a chuckle as he said this, and Mysticat was smiling as usual. Though he wasn't back to full health, Hood Sickle felt better around them. These Senseis asked questions. They wanted to know more about him. They didn't stamp labels on him and leave it at that. Hood Sickle knew that the Trap Masters were genuinely trying to do good, but he couldn't help but be mad at them for everything. Thinking about how they'd just hauled him away without a second thought...that made him feel sick.
Mysticat's smile vanished, his ears perked up. "Someone's coming this way," he said. "And it's not one of the Senseis."
"Is it a Trap Master?" Hood Sickle stammered, suddenly feeling nauseous.
"The presence feels rather...wispy. Like a ghost."
"Eon?" Wildstorm asked.
"I think so."
Hood Sickle backed away, his body trembling in fear. It was one thing to confront the Trap Masters, to interact with them after everything that had happened. But to go up against a Portal Master, and feel his judging presence, that was somehow worse. He felt Wildstorm drag him away, leading him to a nearby barrel and hiding him inside. The space was cramped, but it felt safe to him.
"Are you alright in there?" Wildstorm asked.
"Yeah," Hood Sickle replied.
The knight set the lid on the barrel, closing him in there. The barrel had a tiny hole in the side, from which Hood Sickle could see the yard. Wildstorm and Mysticat stood next to one another, watching as a figure came into the yard. The figure in question was a floating spirit, depicted in a blue robe and long white beard. It was Eon. He was much...different than the last time Hood Sickle had seen him.
"Greetings, Senseis," Eon said to them. "It's been a while since I've come around here, hasn't it?"
"At least a few cycles of the moon," Mysticat shrugged. "Was there something you needed?"
"Actually...yes there was. Is King Pen here, by chance?"
"He went out this morning with Ambush on a scouting mission," Wildstorm explained. "Chain Reaction is here, if you need to talk to him."
Eon stroked his beard in thought for a moment. "Since this concerns all of you, I might as well pass along the message," he decided. "This is about Hood Sickle. It has been several days since the Trap Masters located him in the area, and we thought you might've been able to find him much sooner."
Mysticat rubbed an arm. "Perhaps he fled the area that night after the Trap Masters gave up the chase. It didn't stop raining for several hours."
"Snap Shot reported that his state had weakened an awful lot. I'm not sure he could've made it far on his own without collapsing. It's imperative that we find him for his sake. Not because he's an escaped prisoner, but because his life may be in danger if we don't."
"What's going to happen to him once we find him?"
"First, we give him the necessary medical attention that he needs. After that...well, that depends on what I find out."
"Maybe he's not a criminal like you said he was. Did you ever think about that?"
"I've thought about that a lot, Mysticat. But that shouldn't be any of your concern."
"I can read the thoughts and emotions of people from their eyes alone. I can figure out what their plights are. It is my concern."
"Then let your first concern be finding him. We'll determine his innocence at a later time, but right now..."
The old Portal Master trailed off, looking in the direction of the barrel. Hood Sickle's heart nearly stopped. He didn't notice him in there, did he?
"What is it, Master?" Wildstorm asked.
"Nothing," Eon insisted. "I was just thinking that I might like King Pen's word in this. I'll be in the nearby village, waiting for him. When he comes back, let him know that."
And so the old Portal Master slowly floated away, leaving them all behind. The two Senseis waited for a while, and then walked over and opened the barrel. Wildstorm helped Hood Sickle out, setting him on the grass. Hood Sickle still felt his nerves shaking. The Portal Master hadn't noticed him, had he?
"Don't blame the Trap Masters too much," Wildstorm told him. "They have stronger regulations than the other teams. They can't afford to be wrong about stuff like that."
"I know," Hood Sickle nodded.
He noticed that tears were streaming from Mysticat's eyes. The sphinx's fists were clenched at his sides, and his teeth were gritted in irritation. "If I can see those sorts of things in people, then it is my concern," he hissed. "No one gets that. Not even King Pen."
"I'm sure they do," Wildstorm insisted. "There's just more on the line, is all."
That awful feeling came back to Hood Sickle again. He was going to get them in trouble. If Eon knew that they had hidden him there for the past few days, who knew what would happen? Hood Sickle just couldn't stand it to watch them get in trouble for sticking their necks out for him. They'd already done enough. Now it was time for his leave.
His destiny was tied with the Skylanders. That much he knew. And no matter how hard he tried to change that, he somehow always fell back with them. But if the stars were always changing, Hood Sickle had to find a way to change with them. That was what Mysticat had said, right?
Hood Sickle snuck away from the Dojo, keeping away from the Sensei's peering eyes. He made his way to the village nearby, noticing a crowd near a card shack. The people were chattering excitedly, noting the presence of the Portal Master there. All Hood Sickle had to do was walk through, and people timidly shifted away from him so he could pass. That was always a neat trick of his.
The card shack had many tables set up, where people were playing some version of Skystones. Master Eon was seated at an empty table, waiting around in case King Pen showed up. Hood Sickle walked in there, right up to the table. The old Portal Master looked surprised to see him there- surprised and relieved.
"I hear you've been looking for me," Hood Sickle spat, tossing the trap over to him. "Well here I am. Now what?"
Eon picked up the trap, noting the change in color. "It seems that your Element has changed," he noted. "Strange. I never pegged you to be a candidate for that sort of thing. Usually one goes through a sort of metamorphosis in order for that to happen, and you seemed incapable of it."
No comment.
"Why don't you take a seat so we can talk?"
Hood Sickle pulled up a chair, sitting down.
"You're looking well. It appears that the Senseis found you and neglected to tell me."
"I coerced the cat into it," Hood Sickle lied. "I might've been sick, but not sick enough to keep from being threatening. I scared them all into helping me hide. I figured once you came around that the jig was up. So whatever you do, don't hurt them because of me."
"Are you worried about that?"
"What does it matter? I'm not going to see them again, am I?"
Eon fiddled with the trap. "That depends on what I find out," he insisted. "Skylands is in the middle of repairing and reconfiguring itself, you know. I figured the Skylanders could try it out as well, starting with some of the inmates we have locked up. We've been working with some of the Doom Raiders, for starters."
"Ugh, what are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that no one is entirely good or evil, and that is something that Cloudcracker Prison has failed to represent. I'm thinking that it wasn't Kaos that destroyed it the first time, but the restrictions I placed on the Trap Masters. If I'd allowed them to be as free as the Swap Force and Senseis and Superchargers, they might've allowed themselves to keep a loose watch on the prisoners and make sure that the prison itself stayed safe. They were all preoccupied inside when Kaos planted that resonator there."
"I'm sure the Rift Crisis would've destroyed it as well. You couldn't have predicted that."
"And I was also thinking that we gave up on reforming the inmates as well, branding them as villains without a second thought. Most people do that, but...I thought we knew better. And every time I visited that prison, looking at you and Pain-yatta and everyone else, and I wondered who all really needed to be in there."
Did he really believe that? Did he really think those things? "Don't you dare lie to me."
Eon placed both hands on the table. "I am being one hundred percent honest with you," he promised.
Could he have his freedom, then?
"I was looking over your old files, and none of them pegged you out to be a criminal of any kind. Mysticat seemed to think you were innocent, and I know the way he can read people is incredible. So tell me, what was it like for you in there?"
His eyes welled up. "It was a mistake. I shouldn't have tried to stop that thief, but I got in the middle of it," he pouted. "They didn't even hold a trial, they just...locked me up. No one ever did a review or something to see if I belonged there. I spent my days looking out a barred window, wanting to find my way to freedom. The Trap Masters were constantly on patrol, giving all of us wary glances, as if we were always planning something. They'd decided that we were monsters and left it at that. I knew I didn't belong there, but I sometimes felt that I deserved it somehow. Just for being me."
He felt Eon pull him into a hug, and all Hood Sickle could do was cry. Everything he'd felt in the past few weeks just presented itself in front of the old Portal Master. Crying in the cave might've been more appropriate, but he felt less lonely there.
"Oh my. And the last thing I wanted was for anyone to feel ashamed of who they are," Eon gasped. "I'm so sorry, Hood Sickle. We'll make this up to you somehow, I swear."
Eon released him, holding the trap tightly. Hood Sickle watched as it lit up in a bright light. That light quickly vanished, and the trap fell apart in millions of tiny pieces. Hood Sickle felt a twinge of pain in his chest, but a kind of weight left with it.
"You are no longer bound to a trap, and you are no longer bound to the prison," Eon explained. "You can go wherever you want without worrying about the Trap Masters. If you want, we can help you find a place to settle down."
Hood Sickle wiped the tears from his face. He could go if he wanted. He'd finally won his freedom, and he could go anywhere he wanted to. But somehow, he was sure that it wasn't meant for him. His destiny was tied with the Skylanders, a group that was always changing and rearranging itself just as the stars did. He had to change with them, and if he didn't, the universe wouldn't let him forget it and just send more of them out to meet him.
"No," he decided. "I want to become a Skylander. I want to keep this from happening to anyone else."
"Are you sure?" Eon gasped. "I almost thought you would've given up on us."
"I still believe in what you're trying to do. I know you're not bad people. I need to lend a hand in that."
A commotion suddenly occurred at the entrance to the card shack. Mysticat had made his way there, the penguin Sensei King Pen just behind him. They watched warily as Hood Sickle sat with Eon, though the fear was mostly toward the old Portal Master.
"You know, I don't think the Senseis want to be done with you just yet," Eon decided. "Train with them, and become a teacher that can lead others onto the right path. And if need be, help give the Trap Masters a hand every now and then."
"I think that sounds perfect," Hood Sickle agreed.