how do you feel about Medkit?? I imagine you're at least somewhat grateful towards the guy considering his relationship with Sword and all that he's done to help him -🌊
It's difficult to explain. I'm thankful he's being nice to Sword and helped him, especially since he taught him some first-aid but.. something about him kind of worries me. I've heard about the "church" he apparently belongs to, and I suppose I'm just worried about him possibly dragging Sword into it.
My apologies, but no. I am not currently looking to get married or to have a relationship in general, although I do hope you'll get someone else that wishes to marry you.
゛IN WHICH war threatens your kingdom, so you must decide what you value more: the safety of your kingdom and its people, or your own.
chapter includes ⸝⸝ royalty!au, ocs, war, and mentions of: death, weapons, and violence.
From the moment you took your first breath, you were destined to decide whether people lived or died.
Unfortunately, the reason for that wasn't because you were something special. You weren't a deity or anything of the like, but rather a single person with a thousand lives placed into your trembling hands all because you so happened to be spawned into a specific area.
You were a ruler—specifically the one of the Crossroads Kingdom.
When it came to rulers, the heir to the throne was decided by those who spawned. It was well-known that most Inphernals spawned with their own objects, but what they spawned with practically determined how well of a life they would live.
Some spawned with pickaxes or pitchforks, and some spawned with nothing.
And every two decades, one spawns with a crown on their head.
It was the unfortunate way of this world—to have your life be determined the day you spawn. Most couldn't even enjoy the fact that they were alive, for their attention was directed to whatever was in their hands.
But when you were spawned, your attention was directed to your head.
From the moment you took your first breath, you were destined to decide whether people lived or died.
And that fact weighed heavier than the crown on your head.
The sound of shouting below caught your attention, and you peered over the balustrade to eye the knights that appeared to be training. Along with the shouting was the harsh clashing of swords as they scraped against one another, and you could practically hear the metals threatening to spark upon meeting.
You were about to look away before a flash of red caught your eye, and you narrowed your gaze to focus on one specific knight.
He was moving with haste—you would give him that—but all you could notice was the red cape that was tucked into his armor. Perhaps he was one of the younger knights? That had to be the case, for you knew their commander would never allow it.
You let out an amused huff before stepping away from the balustrade, and you turned around to enter your chambers.
Rays of sunlight cascaded across the wooden floor beneath your shoes while you walked over to the low, wooden table in your room. You leaned down to wrap your hand around a glass that rested on top of the wood, but before you straightened yourself, you eyed the small portrait on the table. It was of you when you were younger, and you faintly smiled at it before standing tall with the glass in your hands.
You always found portraits sentimental, for they were seemingly moments frozen in layers of paint. The emotion the ones in the painting felt were trapped by swatches and smears of color.
Maybe that was why you weren't particularly fond of gazing at the portrait that resided above your hearth.
You took a sip from your cup while your eyes flickered to the side to stare at the painting, and you narrowed your gaze before looking away.
You don't know why you keep it up there—out of the respect you lacked, possibly, or maybe because it was of you and the former queen.
Your mother, you supposed.
A smile had been painted on her face in a way that expressed joy, though the indifference in her eyes contrasted the happiness the artist had attempted to capture. Her posture exhibited nothing but confidence with her straight back, relaxed shoulders, and folded hands in her lap. She was the epitome of royalty—of a Queen.
And then there was you.
You wished you could say you had looked at the painter with bright eyes and a grin that day—like any other young one would, but you hadn't. Instead, your stare was nothing but dull and observant, as if your focus had been elsewhere rather than the painting. A childish beam never met your lips that day, but rather only a partial smile that had felt so forced despite it being so small.
You directed your focus away from the portrait as you made your way over to the chair that was near the table, but as soon as you sat down, a knock echoed through your chamber.
You sighed before straightening yourself in your seat, and you called out to whoever had knocked.
"Yes?"
The door creaked open, revealing your royal advisor—Quill. Typically, he would greet you with a smile and question how you were doing, but this time, he just held a blank expression as he remained in the doorframe.
Which promised you nothing but bad tidings from him.
"Are you in need of something, Quill?" You questioned while you started to rise from your chair, but Quill slightly raised his hand. Upon noticing his gesture, you sat back down, and your eyes flickered to the paper in his free hand.
From what you could see on the sheet, it was something formal—the curves of words and strokes of ink informed you of that much.
Your finger tapped on your glass, and the cup softly clinked while Quill spoke.
"You have a letter."
As he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. His shoulders were slightly slouched as if the weight of his news was physically resting on him, and you heard the paper crinkle in his grip while you looked up at him.
"And who might the letter be from?"
"I—" You furrowed your eyebrows in worry as Quill cut himself off, but he seemed to quickly compose himself enough to speak. "I'm not certain—I didn't get that far. The letter is about the other kingdom's."
Your shoulders slumped at the quiver in his voice.
"Your Majesty," he let out a shaky breath, "they have declared war."
Your stomach felt like it was twisting into a knot—a ribbon or noose, you couldn't quite tell. All you knew was that if you thought about the word any longer, you would reveal to Quill what you had eaten earlier that morning.
You remained silent as you lifted your glass to your lips, and you let the water pour down your throat as it attempted to soothe the burning sensation that coated your insides.
"...What for?" Upon hearing your question, Quill slowly held out the piece of paper, and you set your glass down on the table in front of you before taking the paper from him.
As soon as your eyes met the words written, it was all you were focused on. The things around you were a blur while the sounds became nothing but ringing in your ears.
"Ruler of Crossroads, greetings," you decided to skim over the formalities, and your grip on the paper tightened as you reached the later part of the letter.
"Due to the greed of the Lost Temple Kingdom and their prior offense to not only the Thieves' Den Kingdom, but as well as Playground for their Spawnpoint, we message to inform you that the Kingdom's have declared war on one another, including Crossroads."
The letter was signed by Blackrock.
The country wasn't terribly far from yours, but it was at least a two week voyage on seas along with a week on horseback before the messenger would reach your castle.
If you were to estimate, this letter had been written about a month ago.
You had been thriving in your castle for a month, oblivious to the hostilities foreboding your kingdom.
"Your Majesty?"
A short hum of addressment was your response.
"Shall I ready the knights? And what of your people?"
"What of them?" You questioned as you finally managed to tear your gaze from the paper, and when your eyes met Quill's, the only word you could use to define his expression was pity.
"Shall they evacuate, or will you let them continue to reside in their homes? In case we lose many of our knights, are you willing to have your people fight for you?"
His questions echoed in your head, chiming as a reminder of the potential loss that was at hand.
Throughout your whole reign, never once had you considered war a possibility. Serenity had inhabited your land ever since you were titled ruler, and you had hoped that it would forever stay that way.
How foolish you were to have such a hope.
"Have my people fight for me?" You repeated as you set the paper down on the table, and you stood from your seat to face Quill. "There is no need for us to resort to such measures, even in a hypothetical manner."
"Your Majesty, you have to consider what you'll do if the worst occurs. The other kingdoms—they have plethoras of knights!" Quill exclaimed. "It's not as if we're fighting a single kingdom! The whole Inpherno is at war, and who knows when each of them will attack?!"
"Calm yourself, Quill…"
"Calm myself?!" He repeated as he gaped at you, and you nodded to affirm him of your words. You understood his growing panic, for the world you had sculpted for so long was crumbling quicker than it had taken to make. Everything you loved and cherished was being threatened, and what announced that was a mere piece of paper. "We're practically at war, and you tell me to calm myself?!"
"Panicking will do nothing, now will it?"
"It will do more than you just standing there as if nothing is happening! What would your mother—..."
A tense quiet fell over the conversation, and you observed Quill's expression as he realized his mistake. His eyes widened while his lips pursed. Meanwhile, you merely peered at him before speaking.
"You dare speak to me in such a manner?"
"Your Majesty—"
"Leave at once." Your sudden stern tone caused Quill's eyes to widen, but he didn't dare attempt to argue. He merely nodded his head before walking out, and you heard the door click as it was shut.
Plethoras of knights. Your people fighting for you. War—you wanted to scoff at it all. You wanted to believe that this was some vile jest from Blackrock, but with how solemn the Inphernals were there, you were aware that wasn't the case.
You didn't know how long you stood in your chamber for—the sound of shouts and clashes outside echoing in your head, for you knew that soon, that wouldn't just be the sound of your knights training.
Eventually, you shifted and slumped back down into your seat, leaning forward so that your elbows dug into your thighs. You placed your hands over your face, peering at the letter on the table through the slits between your fingers.
"For deities sake…"
It wasn't until later that day you decided to take Quill's advice and ready the army.
The Inphernal—after much apologizing for his previous behavior—had told you that your people could be informed of the war tomorrow, for he would have a messenger knock on everyone's doors early in the morning so that the people would be gathered by the afternoon.
For now, your priority was to inform your knights, which were currently being lined up in front of you.
The sunset basked your back in warmth, but it wasn't a warmth you could cherish at the moment. All the sunset meant to you right now was that another day had passed, which meant tomorrow had the potential to be one filled with violence.
You tapped your thigh with your index finger while your eyes darted around, examining each knight until someone spoke behind you.
"A war, huh?"
Once you heard that familiar, gruff voice, your finger paused as you looked over your shoulder to meet the eyes of your knight's commander.
Mace stared down at you—her arms crossed as you turned around to properly face her. Her eyebrows slightly raised at your lack of a response, and she let out a short sigh before taking a step forward.
She slightly leaned down, whispering so that only you could hear her. "You know what you're doin', Your Majesty."
But did you?
You felt your body tense as she walked past you, and a command rang loud from her.
"GREET YOUR RULER!"
You whipped around to face the knights, and you watched as each and every one of them got down on one knee without hesitation. Their heads were bowed as they spoke.
"YOUR MAJESTY!"
It was like a chorus, but it couldn't be compared to a sweet melody. How could you hear it as something beautiful when something so hideous was on its way? Their greeting to you was nothing but a reminder that soon, their shouts would falter into screams, and that greeting you were given just then would shortly be quieter than it ever had been before.
You took in a deep breath before straightening your posture, and slowly, the knights raised their heads to meet your gaze through their steel helms. Mace examined you before motioning to the knights, and she held your stare until she walked behind you—leaving you in front of all the knights.
The only sound you could hear was your own racing heart until you spoke.
"A war threatens our home." You noticed how a few knights tensed at your announcement, and behind the helmet of some, their eyes widened. A part of you felt rued at the declaration, for you could have at least put it in lighter words.
But was there truly a way to announce war in a delicate approach? How gentle could one be when discussing something brutal?
"And it's not just us that will face war—all of the Kingdom's are currently against one another." You paused before quietly adding. "Against us."
It was pathetic how you couldn't even look at your knights as you spoke. You instead directed your attention to your shadow in front of you—the one that loomed over a few of the knights.
It was ironic that a shadow so big was casted whenever you felt so small.
"Know that I speak to you all with a heavy heart, and that what I am asking is worth far more than what I have given. I do hope you all understand, though, that I ask you for your fight not because you are my knights, but because I know you all have what it takes. I have seen you train various times, and every moment I witnessed was an affirmation that my kingdom is well protected."
Your finger twitched against your thigh, but you were quick to clench your first before gravely staring forward. "It is now that we start preparing, and it is here that I thank each and every one of you. May the deities protect you and grant us whatever mercy they can give."
As soon as the echo of your words died, there was nothing but quiet.
You didn't blame their silence. You weren't the one being asked to challenge the rage of war. You weren't the one being asked to face it head-on. Instead, you were merely a messenger—someone who would hide away later on all because you were a ruler.
But who was a ruler without their people? Without their knights, castle, and kingdom?
They were just a fool with a jewel on their head.
"I'LL DO MY BEST, YOUR MAJESTY!"
Your head turned at the sudden yell despite the sound of Mace groaning following after it, and the first thing you noticed was a standing knight with a red cape flapping in the wind, though the kneeled knight behind him was swatting at the cape with irritation.
The knight who had shouted had stepped out of line with the other knights, and was currently facing you. The sunset had made a golden glow gleam off his armor, but it also illuminated his face.
Upon seeing the beam in his eyes, you pondered if it was due to the sunlight or if it was his perseverance. You glanced at the small view of a scar below his right eye before you met his gaze, and neither of you spoke until Mace called out.
"SWORD, WHO TOLD YOU TO SPEAK?!"
The knight—Sword, as Mace called him—immediately went rigid, and he stepped back into line before saluting. "MY APOLOGIES, COMMANDER!"
"That kid…" You looked over to watch as Mace gripped her temples, and maybe if it had been another day, you would have laughed at her annoyance.
But as you turned your attention to the knights in front of you and the buildings far behind them—the buildings that housed your people—you could only think about your prior thoughts.
A ruler without their kingdom and those who live in it was merely a fool with a jewel on their head.
Without these people in front of you who were willing to fight for their home, you would be nothing.
And as you turned to walk off with the shouts of knights addressing their commander behind you, it was then that you made the one decision that you were certain of.
You wouldn't allow war to take anything or anyone from your kingdom.
Climbing down the side of your castle wasn't what you expected to be doing tonight—it wasn't what you had ever expected to do at all.
The chilling, night breeze cascaded across you, taunting your skin with goosebumps while you continued to descend. The stone scraped against your shoes while your hands ached from how tightly you were grasping the rope.
You didn't realize how high your room had been until you started your descent, but it was too late for you to back down now. You had already written a note to Quill and left it on your bed, and you had snuck into the kitchen once to grab enough supplies until you could get more. You would rather not test your luck and head back now just to put everything in its original place.
You slowly continued to go down the castle, keeping your focus on the stone in front of you so you weren't tempted to look down. Eventually, you felt grass yield beneath the weight of your shoes.
As soon as you released the rope, it wavered in the wind, and you situated the scrip that you had crossed over your chest before lifting your hood over your head. You grasped the strap over your chest, holding it right as you looked around.
Unfortunately, your castle wasn't surrounded by forests—those were more south—so that meant you had to attempt to sneak away through fields. But, there were a few fields of tall grass you could sneak through, so all you had to do was make it to one of those without getting caught.
From what you knew, there was about a ten minute break when the knights switched with others, which meant you had plenty of time to just walk over to a field without any worry.
Or so you had originally thought. You were only able to take a few steps towards a field before a shout rang out.
"Who goes there?!"
You tensed while you mentally questioned if you had assumed wrong about the timing, and you hastily turned around as you gripped the strap of your scrip tighter.
Oddly, your rigid state relaxed as soon as you noticed a red cape.
Your stare flickered to meet the recognized Inphernal's gaze, and he seemed surprised by your presence. It was only when his arm lowered that you realized he was wielding his sword, and upon spotting your eyes on his blade, he was quick to push it back into his scabbard.
"Deities—I apologize, Your Majesty." Before he could kneel, you raised a hand, and he instead gave you a quick bow of his head.
"It's quite alright—Sword, wasn't it?"
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Your eyes widened at his loud confirmation, and he quickly cleared his throat before repeating in a whisper. "Yes, Your Majesty."
A slight smile tugged at your lips. This one was amusing, wasn't he? It seemed he had a habit of catching your attention without meaning to.
"Well, Sword," you spoke quietly, "you can drop the title. As of a few moments ago, I'm no one but another Inphernal."
He tilted his head in bewilderment, raising an eyebrow at you while you tugged at the hood over your head to fix it. After a moment, Sword seemed to understand what you meant, and his eyes darted to examine your attire before they widened.
"Are you sneaking away?" You could tell that he wanted to exclaim his question, but luckily for you, he managed to subdue his shock into a quickened whisper.
You gave him a nod. "Yes, I am, and I would appreciate it if you didn't mention this encounter to anyone…"
You had hoped that you would receive some confirmation that he would keep this a secret, but instead, he asked you another question.
"Why?"
The logical thing to do would be to ignore his query, or to possibly fib since the look in his eyes informed you that he was practically bubbling with curiosity.
But it was that same gleam in his eyes that made the truth spill from your tongue.
"I plan to try to converse with the other kingdoms in hopes that they'll make peace."
You grimaced, realizing how idiotic your plan sounded now that you said it out loud. Despite your expression, Sword beamed before asking yet another question. "And you're going alone?"
Hesitantly, you nodded.
"Well, that won't do. I'm going with you." Your eyes widened at his statement, and you were quick to shake your head to express your disagreement.
"I can't allow you to do that. As I said, I'm going to other kingdoms—there's no telling how they'll react to my presence, let alone the reason for it."
"That's more the reason for me to come, is it not? Surely, you'll need protection." Sword grinned as he slightly puffed out his chest, "And as a knight, that's my duty."
You could only gape at Sword, struggling to find a response. He wasn't wrong, necessarily, but a part of you wasn't keen on the idea of him joining you. The whole reason you were doing this was to prevent any death among your people.
"...Why do you wish to help me? Aren't you aware of what may occur?"
"Because I told you I would do my best, didn't I? It would be rather hard to prove that to you with you away."
You now understood Mace's earlier mutter—"that kid…"—it resonated in your mind, but you didn't feel the irritation she had. More than anything, his tenacity pleased you.
A hum of thought buzzed in your throat before you sighed, "I can't disagree with that, now can I?"
The Inphernal practically beamed at your words, and you turned around as you gestured for him to follow. "Come along, now. Our cover is wasting away as we speak."
"Right!" He said before clearing his throat, "Right…"
A smile tempted your lips, but you remained firm as you started walking.
Though, once you realized you were only hearing your footsteps, you paused as you peered over your shoulder.
Sword lingered in the area where you had once stood, fidgeting with the cape behind him before he spoke. "May I ask a question?"
"If you can do so while walking, yes."
He quickly nodded, following after you as you started to head towards a field of tall grass. It was only until you were about to step into hiding when he asked his question.
Subspace was the most obnoxious little shit before the incident
She would have 2018 Redditor humour and would play the ussr anthem in class thinking she’s so funny and would unironically say “thank you for the gold kind stranger!” And other dumb shit like that
No one really wanted to be friends with her because of that (and because she wholeheartedly believed that her grades are the only thing that makes her worth anything which bled into the way she acts), so medkit ended up befriending her out of pity. (Med didn’t really have any friends either at that time)
predisaster sub reminds me of Berdly kind of
ohhhh my God predisaster Sub having the Berdly personality is such a diabolical idea I love it.
I think Berdly is not as cruel though. Like. Subspace would not only be hella annoying and purposefully obnoxious but deliberately cause problems and be kinda mean. Mod is a certified Berdly fan btw.
Medkit befriended her out of pity awww today we are ignoring the fact that they canonically never got along yay!
I do think Medkit is a nonchalant no-friends-haver and is at least still on decent terms with people. Subspace is just a Little Shit. She thinks she’s hilarious. She isn’t. She’s detestable.
oooooohhhh I wanna pitch her out a window. I have to put up with people like her all the time you see.
