The early morning sunlight gleamed off Peach's metallic armour as she stood proudly on the stone steps at the castle entrance, sword sheathed and strapped to her side and the customary purple cape of the Koopa Kingdom military flowing gently in the cold breeze behind her. Surrounding her stood the most elite members of the kingdom's military force. Beside her, Bowser's righthand man and most trusted knight Sir Toadstool- although Peach would forever refer to him as Sir Toad, a term of affection she had coined about a year ago- explained the plan they had formed with Peach and Boo to the rest of the knights. They would form a wide line starting at the abandoned bandit camp, covering as much ground as possible while remaining as a singular group, looking for anything that could lead them to Prince Bowser or his captors. Peach glanced over her shoulder to see Toadette standing further up the steps towards the castle doors, their face etched with worry. Gently patting Sir Toad on the shoulder as he continued outlining the plan, Peach turned and made her way up the steps to her handmaid.
"Don't worry," Peach smiled reassuringly, reaching out and holding Toadette's cold hands in her own, "we'll be back before you know it and all will be well,"
"I hope so, my lady," Toadette nodded, their eyes shining with tears. Peach gave their hands a quick squeeze before letting go and walking back down the stairs, just as the other knights began mounting their horses. Swiftly, Peach pulled herself up onto the back of her own chestnut stallion. With a loud whistle, she called the knights forwards and began leading them across the courtyard and out of the castle's black main gates. Toadette watched in silence as they disappeared out of sight, their heart pounding in their chest. Suddenly, a feeling of eerie familiarity washed over them and they were reminded of a morning much warmer than this one just over two years ago, when Peach had been taken and Bowser and Boo had been the ones riding out on a rescue mission. Shivering and pulling her cloak closer about her shoulders, Toadette turned away and walked back into the castle knowing that, just like before, they would not be able to rest or find comfort until those they cared for had safely returned home.
Some hours and several miles later, Peach felt the icy cold wind biting at her bare face as she dismounted her horse. They had ridden steadily for a few hours, finally arriving at the bandit camp where Bowser had been taken. As they had expected, the camp itself had disappeared along with their fallen soldiers; only a few broken tents and the black soot from a campfire remained. One by one, the knights fanned out, leading their horses behind them; Sir Toad at the furthest left edge, Dame Wendy at the furthest right edge, and Peach in the middle. The princess remained determined, despite the complete lack of evidence surrounding the campsite to Bowser's whereabouts- no drag marks, no footprints in the wet mud, nothing. Slowly, the line moved forward as one, each knight scanning the area in front and behind them for any sign of their crowned prince.
Seconds past, nothing.
Minutes past, nothing.
Hours past... still nothing.
Peach could feel their collective focus fading, along with the light of the sun as it dipped dangerously close to the horizon despite still being in the early hours of the afternoon. Fear rose in her chest but she pushed it down, determination taking its place- she would not give in until they had found something, anything. Then, she saw it. A roughly dug out ridge in the mud, just big enough to be the heel mark from heavy boots. Calling out for the group to halt, she stepped forwards to look closer. And, sure enough, there was a boot print, and another, and another, with drag marks either side. Raising her head, Peach followed the tracks with her eyes and saw that they headed south.
"Good spot!" Sir Toad smiled, clapping her on the back as he came to stand beside her. She smiled back at him and the small flame of hope in her heart flickered into life once more. Together, in a tighter and more cohesive group, Peach and her knights followed the tracks and headed deeper into the forest.
Bowser spat another fibre from his mouth onto the cold, stone floor beneath him. As soon as his captor had left him alone in the darkness again, Bowser had set to work on freeing himself from his bindings. By a pure stroke of luck, the kidnapper had forgotten to put the rag back in Bowser's mouth. This had given Bowser an idea that seemed to actually work- or, at least, Bowser hoped it was working. Using his fangs, Bowser was slowly ripping away at the rope around his wrists. The room was dark, so he was pretty sure he had missed the mark on more than one occasion and could feel the light trickles of blood dripping down his hands. But he hardly noticed; he had to get out of here.
"I knew these accursed teeth had to be good for something," Bowser whispered to himself with a slight smile, twisting his wrists and feeling the rope loosening as he moved. Just a little bit longer and he would be able to pull himself free. Suddenly, he began to hear voices outside the door, quickly growing louder as they drew closer. Somewhere in his mind, Bowser registered the louder of the two voices as his kidnapper and the man who had come to taunt him earlier. The other one he distantly recognised, though he still couldn't place where he knew it from. From their tones, it sounded like the two were arguing about something but Bowser couldn't make out enough of the words to tell what it was about. He began to work at the bindings more frantically, catching the skin on his hands and causing an explosion of pain. But he didn't care, he couldn't have time to care. The door suddenly flung open with a loud crash, flooding the room with blinding light just like before. Bowser winced, turning his head and trying to shield his eyes with his still tied hands. Silence filled the room for a few moments, until a cold laugh echoed along the walls; Bowser knew at once that the man had seen what he had been trying to do.
"Trying to escape, monster?" the man sneered, so much malice and hatred pushed into that final word that it made Bowser shiver. Before Bowser could respond, the man- who Bowser could now see was dressed in some kind of dirty overalls- roughly grabbed the rag off the floor by Bowser's feet. But just as he leant down to Bowser's eye level, the prince flung his head sharply forwards and headbutted his captor. He heard a crack as the man stumbled backwards, clutching at his already bleeding nose.
"You'll pay for that, you wretch!" the man growled, giving a swift kick to the legs of the chair Bowser was bound to, knocking him sideways to the ground. But before his brain had the time to register the pain, he was pulled back up by his collar and the man threw a swift punch at his right cheek. Then, in a bout of rage, the man hurled himself at Bowser-a kick in the hip, a punch in the neck, fists collided with his chest, and knees and elbows smashed together. Bowser's mind was spinning after hitting his head hard on the brick wall he was pressed against. Blood was rushing in his ears and his vision blurred, barely holding on to consciousness.
"What are you doing?" another voice called out from the doorway.
"Teaching this creature a lesson in respect," the man spat, grabbing hold of Bowser's limp, bloodied arm.
"Brother, stop! Please," the voice begged and much to Bowser's surprise, after a few seconds the man actually let go, pushing him roughly back down to the ground. He heard footsteps draw away from him, then the door to his apparent cell slam closed. Pain screamed across his entire body, his ability to remain awake fading fast. But, just before all coherent thought was lost to him, Bowser realised why he had recognised the other man's voice; he had heard it before, recently, in his own home...