Thank you Thank you Thank you to KMaDdNeSs64, ZiriaSilverOne, FoxyJosh, Jarkes, and Ri2 for continued awesomeness! Really, I appreciate the reviews guys : )
SO here you go, the next chapter:
-O-O-O-
-O-O-O-
The mad weasel roared, "Tell your goons to let me go so we can fight properly, ye coward! Ung…!" Arms still held firmly, Skipper fell forward with a grunt as the Floatzel's knee struck his stomach. "Cheap shot…" he gritted through his teeth.
"Quit your whining, boy!" he leered, "You think you can best me in a fight, eh?" The entire craft erupted with laughter at this statement.
The crew of the Seatunder watched in fear and pity, unable to do anything to help their Captain. Their voices were hoarse from yelling and their bodies burned from where they pulled against the chain. But Flint, undeterred, tried once more, "Oi, ye dirty, worthless seadog! Why doncha fight me, eh? My pops would like to settle a few things with ye in the Next World!"
Finally, Borius turned to him, and walked towards the group menacingly.
"Shut your mouth, Flint!" Skipper hissed, "Leave'em alone, scarface! Your business is with me!"
The Floatzel smiled contemptuously at the gator. "Ah, your father… After Aurora he was the first to die, wasn't he? Pity you weren't there to watch him… He was begging for mercy."
"Liar! He fought till the end fer all that was good! And yer lucky I wasn't there that day, scum bag!" He spat defiantly at the weasel's footpaws.
Borius only chuckled. "You should learn to watch your mouth, boy… On the other hand, what do you care? Your boldness comes from the fact that you have nothing left."
"I've got me friends! Untie me and I'll show ye how bold I am!"
His tail flicked across Flint's snout as he turned his back on him. "Your friends, how cute… Not for long."
-O-O-
A Poliwrath bowed low as it held out a familiar rapier. Borius took it in one paw and roughly hauled Skipper onto his feet with the other. The Buizel stumbled, one arm clenching his stomach.
"A good blade," the Floatzel said brusquely. A metallic hum was heard as the sword swung through the air. Skip caught it deftly and felt the worn leather binding against his paw; it was his rapier.
Borius drew a long, well-used scimitar from his sash, the blade singing as he ran a claw along its edge. Now it twirled in his paw, behind his back, into his other paw… Thnk! With effortless skill he brought down his arm and his sword, its tip sunk neatly in the plank wood. With a serious frown, he glared at the Buizel, who was breathing heavily, a dribble of blood lining his lips. "Forget the pain, boy! This is no time to be weak!"
Skipper growled low, trying his best to suppress the crippling hurt in his lower abdomen. He stood straight, his footpaws apart, his sword arm steady, and his rapier parallel to the ground, glinting tip pointed directly at his father.
The Floatzel grabbed his scimitar, a chunk of wood flying aside as he drew the weapon out of the deck. The deadly blade hummed once again as he twirled it slowly, sharp and ominous. He circled the younger beast with a hungry look in his eyes.
"And now, we fight."
The first strike came expectedly: a fast jab to the heart. The Buizel knocked it aside easily and swung downward. "Crude," Borius jeered as he stepped backwards, causing the rapier to cut through the air harmlessly.
Skipper said nothing, using the momentum from his previous attack to thrust his blade forward.
"Sloppy," the Floatzel noted, parrying it carelessly. "Come now, Skipper. I expected more from you."
The Buizel ground his teeth resolutely. It was hard, keeping both anger and pain in check at once. But if there was anything he knew, it was that neither could distract him from this. His life depended on it.
Back and forth the two beasts went, the cheering crowd adjusting themselves accordingly. They were evenly matched, with neither weasel overtaking the other. Sometimes it looked as though one would make a regrettable move, and the other would move in for the kill… But both seemed to just escape the other in the nick of time.
Skipper narrowed his eyes as he sidestepped the scimitar. "Why are you doing this?"
Feigning ignorance, the older one replied, "Whatever do you mean?"
The Buizel dodged yet another droll assault and sent a barrage of his own, all of which were countered just as lazily. "You're toying with me."
"Oh, do you think so?" He grinned dangerously. "How about this!"
Clang! Skip gasped as his rapier was knocked out of his paws by brute force. Such power!
"Too easy for you, boy?"
A look of disbelief was plastered on the Buizel's face, his paw trembling from the vibrations created when the blades met.
"PICK IT UP!" Borius roared. "Don't you dare dishonor my name!"
Skipper did so, gripping the hilt firmer than before. Again he rose and made to strike the Floatzel.
Clang! He fell backwards this time, as his blade once again clattered harmlessly on the deck.
"Are you tired, Skipper? Would you like me to end it now?"
Once more, Skip picked up his trusty weapon, now scarred with two notches where the scimitar had struck. Grimacing, he held on to the rapier with both paws. He could not match the Floatzel's strength but… I've got to try.
Skipper's own war cry rang in his ears as he charged forward. Like a wild animal he swung downwards with all the force he could muster. His paws numbed as Borius's blade met his own in a horizontal block. Time slowed, and for a split second the Buizel thought he saw fear in his father's eyes… Nothing else mattered. He felt nothing, heard nothing. There was nothing but those eyes.
For a second there might have been fear. But even so, it was gone in a wink. What Skipper saw now was that merciless, frigid glare, and that deadly smile on his lips. Shards of steel were swept about his as the rapier succumbed to its wielder's might. He didn't hear the feverish crowd or the cries of his friends as cold steel slashed across his chest.
"You're a disgrace, boy."
The world was a blur, and suddenly Skipper felt very tired. His paws sought the rail for support as a large, orange shaped loomed over him.
"Aurora, here is the son you tried so hard to keep. He's all your now."
There was a force to his stomach and then he was flying… falling… gone.
-O-O-
-O-O-
"No…" Torq licked away a salty droplet on her cheek and steadied her voice, "Your own son, Borius… how could you?"
"He was my son, once. And now he's no more," said the winking weasel, turning to his cheering crew, "Avast, maties! Who's the fiercest scalawag to sail the briny blue?" His scimitar glittered in the emerging sunlight as he swung it in the air and the horde chanted, "BORIUS! BORIUS! BORIUS!"
The cheering spiraled into a heated frenzy before it stopped, as quickly as it started, as the point of its Captain's blade stopped on the chained crew of the Seatunder.
"And now, my friends, the party is over."
They pondered this in their minds as a burly Machamp stepped in front of them, cracking its knuckles portentously. And suddenly, it became all too clear what the sadistic weasel had in store for them.
"Goodbye."
With a resounding splash, the anchor plunged into the ocean. The five of them were adept water creatures, but they still lived on land. They needed air. They sank rapidly as shining, writhing bodies with glowing eyes flashed by them this way and that. Were they all allies to the Aurora Borealis….why? But there was no time for that now. Bubbles escaped from their mouths as they tried to hold their breaths. The waters became darker, colder, ever silent… They could not raise the anchor. Even with their combined strength, they could not resurface. And so they were ready to die in this watery grave, their senses numbed by the crushing pressure and the lack of oxygen. Though even as all hope was drowned, they still found each other's paws and held on tight…
One by one, consciousness slipped away mercifully. They were all alone, somewhere deep, deep down, where only the boldest and the loneliest creatures lived. None of them knew, at that point, that thick, muscular arms wrapped around them whole, or that giant wings beat against the water, propelling the beast, and the crew of the Seatunder, up to the surface.
-O-O-
-O-O-
"What shel we do wit de ship, sah?" asked a gnarled looking Feraligatr, fondling a torch in her claws.
The Floatzel turned away from the Seatunder and replied brusquely, "Cut her loose. Let all who come across it see what happens to anybeast who dare cross our path."
"Not gonna burn de ship, wer not, Cap'n?"
A playful glint danced in his eyes. "You can burn it if you wish… And then you can stick that torch down your oversized gullet."
So, torch forgotten, the crocodile sauntered over to the rail and with a quick snap, set the Seatunder free. It drifted lonesomely in the tide as the Aurora Borealis drew further away. And on its deck laid its proud Captain, spread eagle and fading fast. His chest was matted red as a small creek of blood poured from where the scimitar had touched him, a clean cut that opened up his skin and flesh down to the bone. Life was flowing out of him. It ebbed like the tide, and the soft, humming whispers in his head.
"Skipper, it is not your time to die."
-O-O-O-O
-O-O-O-O
I can just kill everyone off right now, can't I? But I won't, the story's not over yet ; D I'm going to go and think long and hard about the next chapter now…. See ya!
-Canyx