Aneko: Hello! I'm back again…and yet I have almost nothing to say this time…
Disclaimer: I don't own Princess Tutu.
Chapter 4-I Promise
"There is happiness for those who accept their fate. There is glory for those who deny their fate."
Fakir tensed, looking around suspiciously. Edel?!
But that should have been impossible. The puppet was dead and Drosselmeyer was gone.
Light from the open door behind Fakir illuminated the wall before him, and the puppet's silhouette suddenly appeared as a shadow. Fakir turned quickly, but no one stood in the door. He turned back, and the shadow was still there.
"Another page is being turned." The shadow pointed a finger at one of the shelves. Fakir turned to look, and a book fell off the shelf in question, landing open to a page near the middle.
Fakir walked slowly over and picked the book up. He looked at the pages and froze when a sentence caught his eye.
"While Drosselmeyer was known for creating unique, new stories and characters, there is one story where he borrowed a character, Princess Tutu, which he uses as a minor character in his story The Prince and The Raven, who is the main character in the story of a well-known writer, who Drosselmeyer admired."
"The page has been turned. Who should I worry about? A King and a Queen? A Kingdom? Ahiru? You, Fakir?"
"Oi, what does this-" Fakir looked up, but Edel's shadow was gone, "-mean?" He finished helplessly.
"What does what mean?" Aotoa asked, appearing behind Fakir.
"Ah…" Fakir handed the book to Aotoa, "this."
Aotoa's eyes widened.
"This is…" he muttered.
Fakir stood well back from Aotoa as the other young man pulled books off the shelves right and left, before putting them impatiently on the floor, almost throwing them.
"I've heard of that story before," he explained, "I think I saw it in the library before. It should be somewhere around here…ha! This one!"
He walked back over to Fakir triumphantly, holding out a book.
"It's called The Puppetmaster, by Edel Korvan."
"Edel?!" Fakir asked sharply.
"What's wrong?"
"Edel…is the name of one of Drosselmeyer's puppets."
Aotoa, while he had known about the story, had never met Edel.
Fakir was getting a strange feeling about all of this. The way everything was connected…almost like it was a continuation of the previous story.
"Oh great. Not here too…"
Aotoa's sigh brought Fakir out of his thoughts.
"What? What is it?"
Aotoa wordlessly held up the book and flipped to the back. A hefty chunk of pages was missing.
Fakir frowned and took the book. He flipped back to the beginning and began to read.
"Once upon a time, in the Kingdom of Rivervale, the King and Queen gave birth to their only child, Princess Hikari. She was a sweet girl, loved by all the people. She loved to dance ballet, and so she was called Princess Tutu."
This is it, Fakir thought. Despite the missing pages, he began skimming through the book.
"…and took the sword of Lohengrin…"
Fakir stopped and went back to the sentence he had just read.
Sword of Lohengrin? But that's…
Fakir thought of the sword he had used as a knight, the famed sword of Lohengrin. The sword of the knight in The Prince and the Raven.
"I know what to do," Fakir spoke slowly, as though in a trance.
"Really? What?"
'Come on."
Fakir ran out of the library.
"O-oi, wait!" Aotoa ran after him, "Don't run!"
Fakir ignored the comment.
I'm coming, Ahiru.
Fakir threw open the door to the house, striding in with Aotoa right behind.
"Fakir, what is it you're looking for?"
"This."
Reaching his bedroom, Fakir walked in and went over to a chest by his writing desk. Opening it, he looked at the sword lying there, still looking fresh and new after its bloody revival in the fountain.
"What is this?"
"Look at this sentence," Fakir said, standing and pointing it out to Aotoa.
"Lohengrin? You mean-"
"Aa. The same sword of the knight in The Prince and the Raven."
"Incredible," Aotoa said. He opened his mouth to speak again when his eyes slid to a point over Fakir's shoulder.
"What?" Fakir frowned, before turning to look for himself. His eyes widened as well.
Within the trunk, the sword was glowing an iridescent green. A slight ringing noise came behind it, easily heard, yet not obnoxious.
"W-what is that?" Aotoa asked.
Fakir didn't answer, but reached forward, inching his hand towards the weapon.
The moment he touched it, a bright light erupted. Aotoa stumbled backwards, falling to the floor, but Fakir just took a step back. Both teens put a hand protectively in front of their faces as it faded as quickly as it came. They blinked the spots from their eyes and saw something.
Curled up in a ball, a young boy lay on the floor, his eyes closed. Short blonde hair fell in messy curls across his head, making him look as though he had just gotten out of bed. He was very small, and wearing a tunic-like royal blue garment and loose black pants.
"Who is this?"
"Look, he's waking up!"
Fakir and Aotoa stood beside Fakir's bed, watching as the fair-headed boy began to stir.
Long thick eyelashes parted to reveal gorgeous, forest green eyes. He blinked a few times, before turning his head to look at Fakir.
"You're…knight-sama?"
His blank stare was rather disconcerting. In a way it was sort of like Uzura's, except that Uzura was more curious, where this kid was more…penetrating?
"No," Fakir shook his head, "I'm not a knight."
"You're not?" The boy tilted his head to the side. "Then who's going to rescue Hime-sama?"
Fakir's eyes narrowed. "Hime-sama?"
The little boy grinned widely. "Hime-sama is just like a duck!"
"Ahiru!" Fakir concluded immediately.
The boy jumped up.
"Duck duck duck!" He crowed.
There was a poof as he was swallowed by a cloud of smoke.
"Wha…?"
The smoke cleared away, and in its place was a small bluebird, flying around in circles.
"Duck duck duck duck-"
"Shut up and tell me how to find Ahiru!" Fakir growled impatiently.
The bird stopped singing and flying in circles, staying air borne around head height, staring blankly at Fakir.
"Do you really want to go after her?"
"Yes."
"It could be dangerous for you," He warned.
"I don't care," Fakir said without hesitation.
The little bird shrugged.
"Okay."
A large book appeared in his talons, and Fakir was surprised it didn't weigh him down too much to fly. It was rather plain looking, with some strange language on the front.
"Hold on, Fakir, you're not really going to do this, are you?" Aotoa's shocked voice broke into Fakir's thoughts.
"Yes, I am."
"It's suicide! What if you can't get back?"
'I made a promise," Fakir spoke quietly, picking up the sword of Lohengrin, "and I intend to keep it."
I won't let her be used again.
Fakir put on the belt, making sure his sword was within easy reach. Lastly, he put on his cloak. His old clothes felt strange- it had been so long since he had taken up the duty of being a knight, and for entirely different reasons. He never thought he would be picking up this sword again- he could almost still feel Kraehe's ravens attacking him.
Aotoa was standing silently beside Fakir. He seemed to have accepted Fakir's decision, despite his earlier objection.
The bluebird, watching Fakir, saw that he was ready, and with another cloud of smoke turned back into the boy, landing on the bed with the book in his hands. Opening it so that the pages faced Fakir, he flipped it to an illustration over a two page spread.
"Just place your hand on the illustration, and away we go!"
"Where is that, anyways?" Aotoa, the one still actually thinking rationally at this point, asked.
"This is the Kingdom of Rivervale, inside the book."
"Inside the boo-? Fakir, now hold on! You just slipped out of one story, now you're going willingly into another? Are you out of your mind?!" Aotoa tried again to persuade him.
"Aotoa!"
Aotoa's words died at Fakir's sharp call.
"That's why I have to go. She has suffered enough."
Suddenly, as Fakir spoke, he looked every inch the knight he was supposed to be,
Aotoa sighed in annoyance. "Fine, but you better get back alive."
Smiling a thank you, Fakir got closer to the book.
I wonder if all writers are insane like Drosselmeyer and Fakir, Aotoa wondered as he watched.
As soon as Fakir's finger gently rested on the page, a bright light swallowed him, much like the one which had taken Ahiru. When it cleared up, Fakir had disappeared.
As Aotoa was busy staring speechlessly, the boy spoke to him.
"Listen. Make sure nothing happens to this book. Do you hear me?"
His words brought the young musician back, and he nodded solemnly. Receiving his response, the boy jumped toward the book, as though he were jumping into a pool. He disappeared without a sound.
The only sensation Fakir could feel was falling. It felt as though he were falling through a sort of history itself, layer upon layer of years parting before his earthbound body.
I'll find you, Ahiru. I promise.
At her balcony, Ahiru froze, eyes widening as she looked at the sky. A gust of wind blew the hair out of her face.
"Just now…I felt…"
A marionette fell before the black stage, only to be suspended by it's silvery-white string, wooden parts clacking dully against each other.
This particular one had large blue eyes and a huge smile. Her clothes were all white. She hung there limply, smiling obliviously at the world.
A woman's voice came echoing out of the darkness.
"Now, the puppets have been chosen, the setting had been decided- let it begin!"
Aneko: Ta-dah!! Oh, where shall it go next? The next chappie may take a while, since I haven't finished writing it yet, but hang with me. I just realized that some of the info in the chapters are repetitive- please bear with me on that. I think this is the last chapter where that happens. Aotoa's role is basically over- he was simply meant to be the voice of reason Fakir was clearly ignoring.
I would like to invite everyone who is watching/who has watched Princess Tutu to join my forum, if you feel like it. There aren't many people who watch it. I think it might have something to do with the name…