Destiny
Morning sunlight spilt in lazy, mote-laden streams through the canopy of branches and leaves above. It spread out like a warm, blanketing cloak over my brown fur as I walked. The previous day had been travelled in joyous celebration, but now it felt more like a forced march. Gone is the jubilation and the euphoria of yesterday, replaced by an odd melancholy.
By the time the sun was fully up, the sky was clear and the day was hot. The sun's rays pulled moisture from the ground and into the air. Heavy humidity matted fur and made bedraggled hair feel like a lead weight. We passed through a field of sunflowers with their golden faces turned upward, spreading a rich fragrance and providing ample shade, but the air beneath them was thick, still, and suffocating. I could barely see, my legs burned and I felt like I hadn't gotten a fulfilling breath of air in hours.
What certainly didn't help matters was that I hadn't had a full night's sleep in almost three days, and I was finding it difficult to maintain the pace set the previous day. The Pack wasn't faring much better. While most canids are by design capable of maintaining a jogging gait all day long, the Pack had not fully recovered from the ordeal of their captivity. Consequently, we were forced to slow down.
The group emerged at last from the sunflower forest and followed the winding trail up the stony crags leading to the old Tree Fort which guarded the singular pass to Knothole. Now that we were exposed, the sun beat down even more intensely against our necks, but a faint breeze touched sweat-moistened skin and provided some relief. As our destination grew nearer, the entrance narrowed and we were forced to pass single-file through a narrow gap between the granite peaks. I led the way.
"Halte" I heard a distinct Coyote observing from a turret lookout, granting him a commanding view of the cliff opening where our party had emerged
"It's me!" I exclaimed raising my arms-up and motioning for the rest to hold back.
"C'est toi! Eez the Princess!" Antoine exclaimed.
Geoffrey quickly emerged "Wait right there." he demanded as he slid down a creeper, jogging at a brisk pace and coming to a stop before me. He stared suspiciously drawing in in my scent with a deep breath. He tiptoed, peering over my shoulder. His eyes ran over the Pack, lingering on Snively a moment longer before returning to me. I felt the snort of his warm breath on my skin.
He brings his fists out while I raised my own. We pounded our fists together vertically and both ways. Then, we 'bro-fisted' extending our index fingers, twirling them around each other three times before wrapping our pinkies together. His gaze locks with mine as we bump our wrists together and we finished off by giving each other a thumbs up. The secret Knothole Freedom Fighter handshake.
Geoffrey smiled, embracing me and wrapping me whole with his arms. I felt like I belonged there. His lips press tightly into mine and I found myself reciprocating, but all too soon, that gratifying experience was brought to an end when Geoffrey parted his muzzle from mine, allowing me to draw a deep satisfying breath. The first I felt I had in hours. Then, I felt his arousal against my abdomen, a flutter of pheromones and desire made my knees wobble. Like tide washing footprints from the sand, my mind was blank.
Until like a rubber band, I snapped back into coherent awareness. I stepped back, smiling playfully "That was certainly very uncouth, Mr St. John."
"What happened?"
"I got caught, but I got away."
"Care to elaborate?" Geoffrey asked perplexed.
"Not right now."
"You know, you don't really strike me as the whole roguish hero, Sally," Geoffrey said, gesturing to the menagerie behind me.
"I never struck myself that way either…"
I assemble everyone in the courtyard of the fort where I assigned sentries to keep an eye on the Pack. Admittedly, I had developed suspicions over a few of them over the course of the journey and had to make sure none of them were in fact 'Auto-Automaton' robotic infiltrators. I convinced them the guards were alright and I assured them of my return when I would properly integrate them into the community.
Snively meanwhile, received a far less welcoming reception. To the tune of jeers and triumphant whoops of the Freedom Fighter recruits, he is unceremoniously dumped into an empty storeroom that was hastily converted into a makeshift prison cell.
Then, I searched for Bunnie.
"Princess!" Geoffrey called out. I ignored him.
"Sally, stop. I thought you were smarter than that." He began staring wide-eyed at the miniaturized Roboticizer stuffed into my boot pouch. "You stormed Robotnik's citadel all on your own!? As if I don't have enough to worry about," he growled; his voice betraying deep notes of concern.
"Is this really the best time?" I asked as I bounded my way through dense vegetation, weaving expertly through saplings as he tried to keep up through the prickly mess.
"Sally, stop! Listen to me!" Geoffrey shouted to me. I sighed and obeyed, waiting as he caught up. I crossed my arms, leaning against a tree. A position that so comfortable that I almost collapsed into a peaceful, narcoleptic stupor.
"What was all that about?" he asked. "We just spent the entire night and half of the morning cleaning up after a mess you caused, you! I know you're smarter than that and so do you. Tell me what that was about so I can trust you again." He demanded.
"It was about Bunnie, I was trying to find her medicine," I replied.
Geoffrey's fury seemed to abate "She's really that sick?" He asked.
"Yes. Can I go to see her now? Do I really need your permission here, to see my best friend?"
"How is she?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
I sighed "Not good. I favour Bunnie. Perhaps too much." I began "I do not deny that I acted inappropriately, but I failed, and I will not repeat that mistake. Despite my failure, have I regained your trust?"
Geoffrey stared, mouth half open. "I…yeah, that explains it. Thanks. For telling me."
My trek to Knothole was short, but filled with indiscrete whispering:
She's alive!
What happened to her?
She looks like she's been through Tartarus.
That lying weasel; Sonic wouldn't do that.
I ignored them and continued to search for my friend. It wasn't hard to find Bunnie as she sat with her limbs still intact on a wheelchair within an open field, now idyllic and golden with sunlight, grass swaying like a stiff ocean in a breeze. She cuddled Tails in her lap as she whispered stories to him, much to the kit's delight.
The exhaustion of the hike. The mind-numbing terror and weakness I had felt when I nearly succumbed to Robotnik, the grotesque bloodshed I had witnessed and committed. The sight before me almost made me start weeping on the spot. How could something so pure and joyful still exist in a world full of such evil and hopelessness? How could I ruin this peaceful moment of innocence with what I had to say? As I approached, the farm bunny was all-smiles. Owing to her seated position, Bunnie eschewed a full-body hug in favour of a simple squeeze on the shoulders. Somehow, that gesture felt far more meaningful "So good to have ya back, yer won't believe some of the rumours goin on" she drawled.
"What rumours?" I asked.
"Mah big mouth, it doesn't matter now that yer still in one piece," Bunnie replied, brusque as ever.
"Aunt Sally!" Tails called as he toddled up to me. His legs were in casts, but he had a pair of tiny crutches that he used to propel himself along. I felt a stab of pain at the sight but swallowed it down.
"Hey, Tails how are you doing?" I asked in a contrite tone, crouching down to be level with him.
"They said Sonic killed you" he chocked, tightly embracing me.
What?
I look up at the bionic belle, "Bunnie?" I breathed, wondering what had transpired in my absence.
Bunnie let out a resigned sigh, "Sorry Tails, yer Aunt Bunny and Sally need a little gal-to-gal talk. We'll drop yer off with Doc Quack."
Getting to the clinic was slow, it took cajoling for Bunnie to accede to my offer to help. Tails, on the other hand, was clingy as though he needed constant reassurance that I was real and not an apparition. Disentangling myself from him was hard in more ways than one. The unfettered love he showered onto me was something I wanted, craved, yet I've done just fine without the need for affirmation. I gave him many hugs and 'funny kisses' (making up those I missed) before sending him off.
After that, Bunnie and I were left alone in her hut. She looked at me with downcast eyes, following my every movement as I folded her wheelchair, making sure to leave it within easy reach.
"So, what was all that about?" I asked when the two of us were alone.
"Well, when Fang, Nic, Nack or whatever new name that slimy weasel uses returned without either of ya he came up with quite the doozy of a story. He said Sugah hog killed yer over an argument. But ah suppose rumours of yer demise were greatly exaggerated, weren't they?" Bunnie smirked as she said this.
I ran a hand through my scruffy hair, shaking my head in disbelief. To be fair, that assumption wasn't entirely unfounded. Briefly, I wondered how Sonic would handle the blow to his reputation, but I guessed there was little to worry about, after all, he was always good at rolling with the punches. "Speaking of which, did you see Sonic? I didn't see him around" I asked.
"Well yeah, Sugah hog came up to me yesterday. He said he hurt ya feelings. He asked me how to make it up ta ya. So, ah told him to get yer a present. Yer a gal. All gals love presents. Then he took-off.
I face-palmed.
He's insufferable. We need him. I need him. He can't just get up and go as he fancies.
"Ah know what yer thinking. No need ta fret. He'll be back. Ah'm sure of it. Most important thing is yer home; all safe and sound" Bunnie remarked reassuringly.
"It's not all that simple, Bunnie." I said lackadaisically, levelling with the emerald-eyed belle "Do you want to know where I've been?"
"Somehow ah think that's not a good question ta ask," Bunnie said as she stared intently, igniting a certain queasy feeling in the gut.
"I was trying to get you medicine, in Robotropolis," I explained.
"Alone? Fer me? What were ya thinking? Ya could've been killed!" she exclaimed; she then groaned and clutched her head.
"I know, but I don't welch on promises, even those I make to myself," I stated.
"So, I take it yer didn't make it then," Bunnie commented.
"No, Bunnie, I failed," I replied, my reply echoing through my thoughts once more.
"Sally Girl, yer didn't fail. Ah can jus wait more," her tone was resigned, almost as though her merry cheer was draining out like a leaking faucet, but as she diverted the path of her eyes, the emotion which they expressed became something altogether different. Bunnie gazed now at the Mobile Roboticizer stuffed securely into my boot pocket. Her eyes glimmered with equal measures of amazement and revulsion. "The Roboticizer…" I could barely recognize the sound of her voice as she croaked that accursed word. "We actually have it!" Like a flicked switch, light flooded to eyes which blazed like emerald fire "Don't sweat it. It had ta happen sometime. As a matter of fact, Ah'm glad that it did."
"You're…glad to see this horrible thing again?" I asked surprised.
Bunnie's face was solemn as she nodded, "Some inner demons ya jus have ta face." she explained, "And this lil devil-" she motioned to the device, "-is certainly one o' them. Ah see nothin fer me ta be afraid of. Its jus an ole machine, only as wicked as whoever uses it. Now that it's in our hands. Maybe, we can use our ole noggins ta save the poor souls who aren't fortunate enough ta have her best friends save her."
"Yeah maybe... Bunnie, there's a lot I need to go over, but first I'm going home to prepare. Gather everyone at my place after the speech. It's going to be big."
"Yer can count on me" Bunnie nodded. She hadn't addressed the proverbial elephant in the room, but I guess my place was as good a place as any. In any event, had no intention of forcing an answer from her.
Returning home, I peel off my body armour which had started to cling to me like a second skin. I took a well-deserved shower followed by combing my rat-nest hair till it was somewhere between scruffy and bed-hair. Sally may have been a bit of a tomboy, but no one would rightfully claim she neglected her coiffure. Not on my watch anyway. Then I collapsed in bed, diary in hand.
Dad, do you know how lucky you were?
You saw our home the way it was meant to be: a land of lush green and sparkling water; untouched, like a virgin. Her breath so pristine, her shiny hair singing lullaby to her offspring. You were adored, worshipped by a populace who saw you as their protector. I can't imagine how satisfying, how compelling it was to you to rise from bed each day and peer over the parapets over a sea of your adoring subjects. What other incentives could the Source Of All offer to compel you to devote your life to them? I can only imagine that kind of satisfaction, that kind of fullness.
Do you know how lucky you were?
You protected your people from a direct threat, and yes, you failed in the end, through no fault of your own, but for precious years before all that, you were innocent, ordinary. You were different, important, but not yet a necessity. The fate of the nation was not yet on your shoulders. You were permitted a childhood, to prepare, mature and become your own man.
Do you know how lucky you were?
I wonder if you ever realized just how blessed you were, how unique and irreplicable your situation was. Yes, you stood head and shoulders over the rest. Because you were monarch. But unlike most other Acorns cursed with this burden, you were not alone.
Do you know how lucky you were to have my mother who shared your intelligence? Someone you could communicate with, share intimate thoughts and feelings with, and understand on an implicit, complex, intellectual level? A beautiful girl whom you could love fell into your arms. From that day forward, neither of you were ever truly alone. You loved each other in your mutual struggles. She fought with you, by you. She insulted you and a part of you hated each other, but by the end of the day, you had each other and that was what mattered. You were never, ever alone.
You were very lucky. You don't know how many times I have had to tell your stories to my people who still view you will through the lenses of nostalgia. A monolithic paragon of justice. You cannot understand how much more I hate it every time I do. Now, with the newcomers, I am expected to retell your story a dozen more times. I don't know how to keep from slitting my wrists in rage.
And you.
You and I are blood. But I don't even understand you. Your reputation preceded you, casting a giant shadow over your offspring. Am I supposed to relate to you? Understand you? How can I understand you? You're a stranger to me.
You had the opportunity to pick me and you refused. If you had chosen General Armand or one of your ministers I could understand because you needed them, but you chose to secure some ceremonial trinkets. Why? Were they more valuable to you than me? Your blood, your kin and kith? You don't know how long I blamed your decision on myself. How long I thought I was deficient or broken in some way, how long I was sure you avoided me because I disgusted you, but I have grown since then, father. I have grown to learn that all fault in the world is not of my making, that there are some things which are truly out of my control, and though it gives me no peace, I know I cannot fix everything.
That was not my fault.
It was yours.
Was it the shame of defeat? Was it guilt? Did you feel bad about losing our war? Did you realize perhaps the coup was your fault? That some cascading series of decisions you made caused the demise of our people? Did you realize all this, and decide you couldn't face admitting all of it to me? That does not make me happy, but I can understand it.
I wish you were here. I wish Julayla, Rosie and Mom were here. Despite my dissatisfaction and disgust, despite my confusion. All of you. I wish I had some kind of guide or mentor through this, I wish I could talk to someone who's done this before. I wish now, more than ever, not only because this war gets worse every day, but because of Sonic. How do you love someone you can't relate to? How could you hold someone and love him, knowing his perception of the world would be so, so much narrower than yours? Knowing that though he was with you, he was nothing like you at all?
How would you do it?
How can I?
My people are celebrating my 'success' and they ask for my story. I should go appease them before someone else tells your story again. Sonic … why have you not yet returned? If only I could escape into your arms and away from my head. Lonely. I am so very lonely.