#start of chapter

[spark1star5]

"I know you know who I am..."

[ask-the-royals]

Upon leaving the two princes and the jester, it almost seemed to take a while to return to the world the anons and askers have grown to be a part of for so long. It was dark like an endless void and no one was in sight. The darkness was practically deafening and unnerving, unlike the calming atmosphere of Dearil’s shadows. 

The strange thing is that the view of the anons and askers didn’t brighten the longer they waited. There was a solid ground- something similar to stone- but it was impossible to see even just that.

However, there seemed to be a stone wall on either side of the askers and anons, as though they were in a hallway of sorts. There were no voices so it seemed the askers and anons were alone. Strange- that never happened before.

Perhaps a bit of light is necessary.

[spark1star5]

Well, aside from that weird dream Xander had, safe to say their lives went back to normal! Let's just hope it stays that way.

[ask-the-royals]

Treble flew all night and into the early morning. He didn't seem fatigued despite carrying so many passengers on his back. In fact, his eyes shone with determination while he flapped his wings, continuing forth.

Hubert had stayed up all night to make sure Right was okay. It was hard to tell why he was so inclined to help the king who had attacked Dmitri, though Hubert had his reasons.

King and Rose were still resting and Hubert was glad they could rest. The poor teenagers had been through so much, so the relaxation period was a well-deserved one.

And then, Treble chirped to Hubert to get his attention. When the prince turned to regard Treble's head, he instead stared at the scene before him.

A gigantic tree towered over the land below, its branches profound and glorious. Its white-barked trunk was incredibly large and impossible to break from the sheer size of the tree.

The land around the tree was flourishing with life. However, the grass was tinted blue which was quite peculiar, though given how streamers of spiritual blue magic circled the giant tree, it wasn't as odd as it may seem. Even the leaves of the Evertree were blue-tinted, filled with spiritual magic beyond what anyone could ever dream of.

Mountains also surrounded the massive area, just adding to the mystical charm. White snow covered the tops of the mountain range, reflecting the rising sun's light that peeked over the mountains.

"We're... here." Hubert breathed out in disbelief as though he wasn't sure that they'd actually make it in time. "We're actually here and it's gorgeous."

Treble cooed happily and began to make his descend. He slowly flew downwards so no one got too scared from any rapid descents. The griffin then landed on the semi-cold blue grass and hopped a few times upon landing to truly stop without any whiplash from an abrupt stop. He soon halted and shook out his fur and feathers slightly, having landed a distance away from the tree as to not alert anyone just yet.

King made a small tired noise when they landed and he opened his eyes reluctantly. He wiped at his eyes and pulled away from Hubert's warmth, only to stare at the new scenery and the fact that they were on the ground now.

Rose groaned when King moved over to lightly nudge her. "Five more minutes..." The red-haired individual groaned. When King didn't let up, Rose sighed and forced herself into a sitting position. She held her stuffed animal who she named Charlie, then rubbed her eyes. "What the fuck do you wa-" She would have finished her sentence, had it not been the fact that they were actually at the Evertree. She was clearly awestruck from the sheer size of the tree at the center of the paradise.

[ask-the-royals]

(I’m putting a “read more” thing so that it’s organized and you don’t scroll for an eternity. Also, trigger warning for blood and violence.)

(Finally got the confidence I needed to post this. I hope y’all enjoy the beginning of this massive arc!)

Since that meeting with Hubert’s father, King Dearil, it had been a couple of days. The tension ran thick among the others, especially the two princes, but nothing had happened as of late that was of importance. Despite that, Hubert had run out of the castle after sneaking past the guards to not alarm them. He had to get to the garden- and fast.

The sky was rich with black and dotted with silver specks of stars. Dark, ominous clouds prevented moonlight to shine through- no ray dared to trickle through the thick blanket of blackness. The atmosphere rang with silence that was deafening, where no birds or bugs dared to utter a sound. The only sound that echoed within Hubert’s ears were his pounding footsteps as he sprinted, his sword sheathed at his side. The ruby-red blade shimmered faintly whenever any light from a streetlight dared to flicker onto the vermillion sword.

Hubert’s cerulean eyes glowed dimly like shining sapphires as he ran, unsurprised when he could’ve sworn he could hear his thundering heart beat against his chest.

“Damn it Dmitri!” Hubert hissed under his breath, worry creasing his facial expression. He was not one for cussing- he commonly voted against it. But at this moment, he didn’t care. He had to get to the garden, because as he found out, that’s where Dmitri was heading.

He also found out that’s where the intruder was last spotted.

Hubert slowed his sprinting, his breaths coming out as exasperated gasps and heavy, forced huffs. His eyes were sharpened like griffin’s eyes, where his pupils were sharpened into dangerous slits. His head whipped around constantly during his panic as he tried to slow his breaths, but that didn’t do much when he saw the crimson blood that was splattered across the cobblestone road.

Hubert emitted a loud, pained whine- the sound pitiful. His cerulean eyes, slitted like the blades of dual daggers, darted around towards the blood splatter. It was almost like there was a struggle, where the victim had either desperately crawled from the pursuer or was able to flee by foot or other means. Ice patches decorated parts of the cobble, reflecting the low light of the street lamps magnificently.

Hubert pushed onward once he got his second wind, following the path of blood that was laid out in front of him. There was a story of victimization held behind each droplet of blood and each trickle of vermillion that seeped into the cracks of the road, where small seedlings imprisoned the blood with their roots in the soil.

Hubert’s feet made no sound as he hurried forth, his movements as swift as a predator tracking prey. Despite his swiftness and agility, it didn’t take long for him to come to a sudden halt when his keen eye saw the black heap that laid in the middle of the road where no one dared tread. Another loud whisper escaped Hubert’s trembling lips as he sprinted forward and dropped to his knees beside the body that laid there, gasping for breath.

Hubert pulled the man onto his lap quickly, propping him up. His eyes met Dmitri’s as the slightly taller man huddled close to Hubert, his breaths coming out in a forced, pained fashion.

Hubert pressed his hand against Dmitri’s side where there was a deep gash made from a blade. Beautifully dangerous blood stained Hubert’s fingertips almost immediately as he applied pressure, then with his other hand he tugged the corvat from around Dmitri’s neck to firmly tie it over the wound. It was such pristine and perfect fabric of sapphire blue, but the blue was no match for the redness that soaked into the fabric.

“You’re.. you’re going to be alright, okay? You’ll be alright, Dmitri...” Hubert forced out, his cerulean eyes flickering in the darkness towards Dmitri’s response that only came out as a whine.

Hubert was so ready to pick Dmitri up and hurry to the medical ward, but his head abruptly perked towards the faint thrumming of a blade meeting cold air. In one swift movement, he unsheathes his blade with his dominant hand and lifted it while twisting his back. It wasn’t the most comfortable position but he easily met the dual katanas of the attacker. With his sheer strength alone, he shoved back against the downwards pressure of the dual weapons, allowing Hubert to hop to his feet in that split second of breathing space.

Hubert was the only thing standing between this black-cloaked individual from getting to the man Hubert loved. He couldn’t waste any time- Dmitri needed help! But this assassin clearly won’t let up easily.

Silently, the prince watched the assassin’s stance- firm and defining. The assassin was skilled, with their hands holding the two blades; two sides of the same weapon. There was a moment of silence that felt like it dragged on for all of eternity, and with light glinting off of the face of the chromium blades, the assassin struck forward.

Hubert pivoted skillfully on his feet with the swiftness of wind, countering the katanas with his singular blade of crimson. They struck back and forth endlessly, their feet sliding along the cobblestone pavement like two partners in dance. This was a dance of death- one wrong move and it could be over, and both of them knew that fact. Both of them attempted to strike whenever there was any kind o fopening but the other would counter flawlessly as if it was purely instinctual procedure.

Hubert’s eyes, glowing a bright gold instead of cerulean, were sharpened predatory like griffin’s keen eyes. He predicted the assassin’s chromium katanas with ease, even as they danced around each other and had to hop in different directs to avoid the teeth of the blade. For a moment, Hubert met the eyes of the masked assassin, where one eye blazed like a brilliant sapphire and held a sharp contrast to Hubert’s golden gaze.

In that split moment, Hubert hesitated towards the intense, feral glare his attacker gave him. That slight hesitation allowed the assassin to strike in a downwards, angled motion, where the blade met the flesh just beneath Hubert’s left eye. Hubert’s yelp of pain split through the silence of the lonely garden as the warmth of sanguine trickled down Hubert’s cheek from the clean cut. He pivoted swiftly on his feet in a quick recovery to avoid the singing blade of the assassin. In a counter strike, he danced to the side to avoid another slice and ignored the pain throbbing beneath his right eye, his sword soon meeting the assassin’s side.

Hubert briefly perked when he heard the inhuman yelp the assassin emitted. The attacker stumbled back and glanced towards their torn cloak along his side and the blood that fell like raindrops onto the cobble. They perked when Hubert lunged forward but Hubert’s blade met the air as blue light engulfed the assassin, lighting up the area briefly and vanished. The remnants of the teleportation dissipated into the air like white and blue smoke until there was nothing there.

Hubert panted and held his blade for a brief moment to make sure the assassin didn’t return. In that moment of silence, Dmitri’s quiet groan of pain snapped him out of his angry trance. His jaw was set and his teeth had been gritted but his head whipped around to face Dmitri, his slightly feral demeanor immediately softening. He hurried to Dmitri’s side and dropped to his knees after sheathing his sword. In one swift movement, he pulled Dmitri into his arms and held him close to his chest when he rose to his feet.

Hubert couldn’t think clearly but he could faintly feel his feet pounding the ground like thunder and his heavy breaths that escaped his lungs. His head screamed at him to slow down, as did his legs, but he pushed forward towards the direction of the castle. He had to save Dmitri- he had to! Once he knew Dmitri was alright, they could catch the assassin who dared to injure Dmitri.

Hubert’s right eye was closed tightly and instinctively as blood from the cut beneath it trickled down his cheek. The blood had a small chance at flying into his eye but the pain was enough to make him want to close it. He wasn’t thinking clearly either, especially as he stumbled and staggered over uneven cobblestone along the path. He was uncaring of the warm blood that soaked his hands from the crimson that soaked through the cloth pressed firmly against the gash. The gash almost seemed to emit some kind of blue and white smoke that trailed from beneath the cloth.

This was bad.

—————————————

.

.

.

Hubert found himself dozing on and off on the chair he was sitting in, dark circles prominent beneath his eyes. He lifted a shaky hand to his eyes and rubbed them slowly, also brushing some of his messy unkempt hair out of his face. He looked worse for wear and completely exhausted- given the fact that the window outside was bright, it was at least late morning. Whether mere hours or days have gone by, it was impossible to tell. A large bandaged patch was pressed against the cut just beneath his left eye, securely held there by medical tape that could easily be removed once it’s healed.

In front of the prince, Dmitri laid limply on the bed, his breathing slow but rhythmic. It at least wasn’t abnormal. Every time Dmitri inhaled, his bandaged chest would rise and slightly shift the blanket that was draped over him, until he exhaled and his chest lowered. His arms were also bandaged with a fresh wrap, expertly covering his limbs. He seemed unresponsive and Hubert was very clearly worried.

Doctors and medics scurried here and there in the private room they were using for Dmitri. One specific man was looking over Dmitri’s bed, checking his pulse regularly and seeming focused on where the wound was located. The man’s hand was pressed where Dmitri’s wound was covered by bandages before he glanced towards the other prince. “You should get rest, your highness.”

“I don’t want to sleep in case Dmitri needs me, Drogo.” Hubert murmured quietly, lifting his head to focus on Drogo. The unfamiliar man was quite fancy, wearing a full-on tuxedo with dress pants clad in black. His light blue hair was brushed to perfection with a fluffy demeanor and his enchanting ruby-red eyes focused upon Hubert, meeting his gaze.

“I respect that.” Drogo murmured and refocused on Dmitri. “He’s stable.”

Neither of them seemed to notice the askers and anons finally materializing into existence, taking the forms of their previous embodiments. Neither of them seemed to notice how the askers and anons both knew exactly what happened, but hasn’t been able to do a thing.

(Drogo is now available for asks.)

[ask-the-royals]

Deciding he was tired, Hubert had stood up from the side of the bed. He spoke to Charles about sleeping in his bed while Hubert grabbed a sleeping bag and, with a little bit of protesting from Charles’ end about it being Hubert’s bed, Hubert insisted Charles slept in it. The prince merely smiled warmly at the young teenager as he pulled out one of the sleeping bags. He was too large to fit on the sleeping bag itself so he laid on it and pulled a blanket over himself instead. He didn’t bother changing out of his royal attire- he felt too exhausted to do that- so he just laid there like that.

Charles was very hesitant but eventually slipped under the sheets of the bed. He snuggled in the blankets and sighed in contentment, not remembering the last time he had been in a decent, soft bed. He giggled slightly when Treble curled up against his hip, underneath the blanket. The young teenager sat his earmuffs on the nightstand so he wouldn’t crush them and he did the same for his stress ball, the two items sitting there idly. Eventually, after exchanging good nights, the two inevitably drifted off into a light slumber. Hubert took the longest to sleep, though.

———————

When you all ‘reconnect’, the environment was unfamiliar. The castle was not as grand in size but clearly more expensive; white quartz flooring stretched across the room and the walls were as black as obsidian. Light trickled in from the window and casted a warm rays upon two unfamiliar people.

The tallest of the men was sitting with the shorter man on the couch. They both wore royal clothing, with the shortest wearing more of a fancier outlook. He had his short brown hair brushed to perfection and his thin mustache fixed so it was presentable. Spiral designs trailed over his clothing in different patterns and over the cloak that hugged his hips and swayed down to his knees. He had a golden belt that went around his waist that had an “S” mark on it. Most of his designs possessed more of a gold, red, or hazel color- bright colors.

The taller man had a bushier and larger mustache than the shorter man, his natural ginger hair tied back in a ponytail held by a gold ribbon. He had a much longer cloak than the shorter man, the cloak going down to his feet and probably would drag behind him. Half of his face was covered by a hood and some of the hair that was side-swept over the left side of his face. For his royal attire, decorative fur- blue in color- was placed along his shoulders and attached somewhat to his belt. His clothing hugged his body closely to the point his muscles were practically visible, lightly protruding along his abs and arms. A necklace dangled from his neck with a peculiar fox-head design.

The taller man was talking to the shorter, his voice etched in a minor accent. What he was saying was hard to determine at first, but the shorter man didn’t respond verbally to what he said. It was clear the fancier man was signing with his hands, each gesture as quick and fluent as the last. He was smiling.

(??? and ??? are available for asks!)

[ask-the-royals]

Connor bugs Reg ‘Take care of yourself, Reg... because if I get word you’d hurt yourself.... let’s just say...... right would be on the ground and whoever hurt you... dead.’ He pulled back, standing with the other anons ‘Tell right that I say hi, alright?’((⚙️.))

Reginald hugged Soul and Connor back, sighing softly towards them. He smirked at Connor, signed a quick ‘O-K’ as he found it amusing that Connor would do anything for him. He... decided to ignore the mention of Right on the ground. He also signed a quick ‘I love you too’ to Soul.

Reginald nodded slightly towards Nev and the anon. He wrote in his notepad steadily, then showed it to them. “Everyone matters.” He said to the anon specifically, flashing a warm smile.

Reginald took the pin and gently ran his thumb over it. He attached it to his clothing, right beside the Bisexual pin he had been wearing this entire time. He offered a bright smile and stepped closer, lightly patting Show on the head. He checked Show briefly, observing them for a moment as if to check if they were alright after the mishap, then nodded to himself. He stepped back until he was beside Larisa and waved to the askers and anons.

Larisa lowered her large head until her horn was pointed towards the askers. It hummed with magic that glowed a vibrant gold and blue that swirled around her horn, bouncing along its surface. It was a magnificent light show that lit up the dark ends of the stables as she charged up her magic. She stepped forward in the slightest with a slight tap of her hoof and watched as the light enveloped the askers and anons. The magic swirled around them all, coating them with pristine excellency that was completely harmless. And, on cue, they disappeared in a flash of light that dematerialized them with the strong spell. The last thing the askers saw was Reginald waving to them.

—————————————

When the askers and anons teleported, they reappeared somewhere familiar. The hall was lit and showed the perfectly-kept hall of the Galeforce’s side of the castle, where vases of flowers occasionally were resting on small tables aligning the sides of the hall.

Dmitri Petrov was walking down the hall alone, with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He held a vase with those Forget-Me-Not flowers and red roses, carefully making his way down the hall. There was no water in the vase so it’d be easier to carry without worrying about spilling and the vase itself wasn’t glass- he didn’t want to accidentally shatter it.

Dmitri seemed content and even humming softly to himself, seeming in a particularly good mood. His cloak whipped behind him as he walked- he didn’t seem to notice the askers and anons.

——————

(Mod Moni note: Decided to put these in the same post to make it more convenient cuz my iPad is being weird when trying to make a normal post.)

[ask-the-royals]

Hubert wandered down the cobble path that led through the garden outlined in trimmed hedges, early in the morning so he didn’t run into anyone. He was so lost in thought that the only thing he paid attention to was walking, his gaze downcast and unbeknownst to any voices within his consciousness. He wore his normal royal attire and his hair was neatly kept, although it was slightly dampened by rain that trickled from the cloudy, dreary sky above.

The Prince held a bouquet of Forget-Me-Nots and roses in his hands, freshly picked and bunched together by a purple ribbon. His expression was solemn and he said not a word to the lingering voices or to himself. He wore nothing to protect him from the rain or the chilly winds besides just his normal clothing, which was somewhat acceptable but didn’t offer too much protection.

He stayed on the cobble road that led up to a hill decorated in the Forget-Me-Not flowers of many colors that added light to the darkness of the world. Hubert was unaccompanied by Dmitri as he strode up the smell, amateurly-made chiseled stone steps that led up to the Weeping Willow tree that overhung the grand hill.

Hubert soon reached the top of the hill and knelt down before a rounded stone in the shape of a tombstone, unbothered by the mud of the ground. The name on the tombstone was covered with amaterly-trimmed vines and the hanging branches of the Weeping Willow. With a quiet sniff, Hubert gently laid the bouquet before the grave that was cracked and partially eroded from weather over time. Prince Galeforce shivered from the cold that blew against his dampened body.

Hubert sighed solemnly as he brushed some of the vines out of the way, although not enough to reveal the name. It was almost as if he wanted it to remain hidden.

“Happy birthday...” Hubert mumbled quietly, his own words snapping him out of his thought process previously. It seemed he was paying attention to his surroundings now that his thoughts weren’t swarming him. He seemed to slightly be trembling and began to fidget with the purple Forget-Me-Not necklace around his neck. He seemed to gently sing a melody.

“Leaves from the vines...

Falling so slow,

Like fragile, tiny shells,

Drifting in the foam.

Little soldier boy,

Come marching home.

Little soldier boy,

Come marching hone.”