Story: Meanwhile... Fire and Oak

Bál walked through the castle slowly, his nails tapping on the stone with each step, as he worked his way to the solar. Tara had directed him to Alaric’s chambers, only for the little Spewpa that had greeted him earlier to tell him that the snake had moved himself to the solar earlier in the afternoon. The little bug had then escorted the queen to her study where a letter had been waiting for her, leaving Bál alone.
The little page had delivered him a letter as well - Matteo always knew how to find the best couriers, bless the little bugger - and Bál had taken a moment to read it to himself in private before he continued. Eventually, he came to stop in front of a partly opened door. He could see the long, thin shadow of the king before he did the actual snake, so he pushed the door open, soft and silent, and stepped inside.
Alaric himself was resting… maybe, Bál didn’t know much about snakes himself - he knew that their coiled to make themselves comfortable, but what Alaric’s body was doing looked almost painful. There were the remains a fire in the fireplace, but the snake’s face was directed at a bookshelf in the back of the solar. All and all, he didn’t look as awful as Nicholas had made him out to be, but Bál could sense several areas of concern.
: T’ought you’d be ‘n bed.
: Bal! You’re here!
: ‘Sure you’re exci’ed ‘bout t’at.
: (slithers closer to bal) Bál, I saw you die-
: ’m ‘live now, t’ough, so let’s go forwar’ wit’ t’at in mind.
: Y- (he looks down) you’re going to die… so many are…
: Not if I can help it. But I can’t star’ helpin’ it ‘less you work wit’ me, so, please, sit down… and try to bloody unwind - figuratively an’ literally, you look like you’re tyin’ yourself int’ se’eral knots.
: The knots help.
: (breathes deeply) Star’ tellin’ me w’at you wanted to talk to me ‘bout before th’ better part of my mind realizes t’at I should have left before I e’en entered t’is room.
: But try not to go stark ravin’ mad, Guinevere is still down at th’ orphanage an’ can’t help if you lose it.
Alaric nodded slowly, lethargic, as if his mind were dripping with pitch that slowed his thoughts. The snake quieted himself and thought, trying to sort out what he wanted to say. Bál hummed and crossed his arms, though not in displeasure. Quite the contrary, the gruff weasel approved greatly of Alaric’s attempt to sort through whatever madness plagued his thoughts - it would make the conversation easier for both of them.
TUMP TUMP TUMP TUMP TUMP- The sound of heavily footfalls drew Bál’s attention from Alaric, and caused Alaric to recoil in shock, curling inward on himself again. Bál sneered and exited the solar, whipping his head around for any sign of danger - he caught the last glimpses of several guards turning a corner, and could hear yelled words in the distance. Near the end of the hall, Bál could see Gaius, so the weasel approached the advisor and clasped him on the back, making the bug jump.
: W’at’s goin’ on?
: There’s a fight going on in the barracks’ prison!
Bál’s brow furrowed for a moment. He racked his brain, working it as fast as he did in battle, before realization struck him. He pushed past the mustached bug and ran after the guards.
: Where are you going?! The king needs you to-
But Bál was far enough from Gaius to pretend he couldn’t hear him.
The stone walls of the cell were cold and comfortable, Adil had come to learn several times in the past minute. He huffed and pushed himself back onto his feet, wincing at the pain on his thigh. For how skinny he was, the fox was surprisingly strong, but what was worse than his strength was his speed and accuracy. His claws and dagger rarely hit their marks, the pain in his thigh was a cruel reminder of that, and Adil desperately wished that he had his weapons with him.
He wouldn’t quit though, and the Krokorok open his mouth wide and charged the Zoroark. They’d done this before, and just as he had last time, Umbra danced backwards out of reach of Adil’s jaws before they snapped shut. This time, though, Adil wasn’t focused on doing damage, but gaining distance - he was already spinning him around when the fox lurched towards him, and his tail whipped around. Umbra realized his mistake and lifted up an arm to protect himself - Adil heard a satisfying crunch when his tail made contact with it.
Umbra growled in rage and lashed out at Adil with his clawed hand. Whatever those claw-things that the fox wore were, they hurt a lot, and Adil cursed both Umbra for possessing them and himself for not owning a pair. His shoulder burned with pain as he stumbled back further into his cell. This was a losing battle - they only thing that would win it for him would be his Anger Point, but Adil didn’t want to take the spectacular damage that was needed to activate it from the fox. Umbra seemed to read his mind and grinned wickedly at him. He advanced on the Krokorok.
 BUHCSSSSSSH 
A sudden crash makes Umbra jump, and Adil takes the moment to charge into the tall fox and shove him out of the cell. Umbra snarled as he hit the ground - the impact left a dull pain, but the sting he felt in his eyes from the sudden change in the light was almost more painful. A shadow loomed over him, allowing him to open his eyes again...
: Well, look who it is. (cracks knuckles) I’m glad to finally have the chance to kill you.
: (smirks) All of your previous attempts suggest that you won’t even touch me.
: Onfroi, go and get as many of the guards as you can. I’m looking forward to putting this ill-bred nut-hook behind an executioner’s axe.
Although Umbra could hear the anger in the Chesnaught’s voice, he knew that none of it would work its way into his combat - the oversized rat was too disciplined for that. Umbra twisted himself so that he was on all fours and then pushed off of the ground, leaping further back into the hall, just in time to watch the Chesnaught’s fist swing widely overhead and land into one of the cells.
The iron of the cell bend inward, the warrior, however, showed no signs of pain; Umbra swore inwardly. Umbra pushed himself to his feet only to immediately bend low underneath another of the warrior’s swings. Moving like an eel in the currents, Umbra curled around the Chesnaught’s side, ranking his claws against their hide as he did. If it hurt him, Umbra couldn’t tell, because the warrior didn’t so much as grunt.
The Chesnaught turned in tow, bring both of his arms overhead in preparation. Umbra flung himself across the room, but, though he missed the full force of the both, even that wasn’t enough to get out of range of the debris that flew from the impacted stone ground. The Zoroark pushed himself back to his feet, looked back at the warrior, and gave him a cocky smirk before he flicked his earring and dashed out of the door.
The Chesnaught growled, low and predatory, and gave chase. The fox was nowhere to be seen in the barracks, but he expected that, so the knight ran out of the building and into the streets. It was mostly empty - the local guard had possessed the scene to make any citizens leave the area after they brought in their captured criminal - so the Chesnaught’s eyes easily fell on the only ‘mons in the area: Onfroi and about a dozen Aetherian guards he had found.
: Hit yourselves.
The Aetherian guards blink with surprise, and several of them regard the unfamiliar Chesnaught with doubtful looks. He snarls.
: You HEARD me! That bloody fox has transformed by now, so you need to prove to me that you’re all actually who you look like…
: Unless you want me to do the punching.
All of the ‘mons, save for Onfroi, look fearful at his words. They share glances with one another, and a few do lift their paws, claws, and arms as if they were going to nick themselves…
: Always so hasty.
Everyone turned towards the source of the new voice. Coming from the road that lead to the castle was Bál, flanked by members of the Free Swords. The Chesnaught’s eyes narrow at him, and he growls as the weasel approaches.
: Correct me if I’m wrong, but t’at one t’ere- (he motions to Onfroi) is yours? You t’ink your own guard f’rgot th’ very ‘mons he brough’ t’ aid you?
The moment the words have left his mouth, Bál shoots the warrior some side-eye, and Onfroi seems to squirm under his gaze. They look at the various ‘mons they picked up, and then back at the Chesnaught, nodding slowly.
: As I t’ough. None of t’em can be Umbra.
: Seems t’ me ‘hat since we last met, you’ve not only become more irrational but more untrustin’ to. Does Hilda approve?
: Be silent, skamelar! You think your words carry any weight here?
: …
: Silver and honey with you, as it always has been. You may be able to fool everyone around you, but you’ll never catch me unawares.
: By t’at logic, if if all of Avalon but you agrees wit’ me, who’s th’ insane ‘mon blatterin’ bloody nonsense an’ tryin’ t’ star’ problems?
: (growls) Three years away from you and yet I grow tired of your words already.
: (spikes spout along his arms) Let’s just skip to what we both know is coming.
: A poor decision on your part…(the flames around his neck turn blue) not t’at any of your recent ones have been e’en close t’ half-decent.
The members of the Free Swords and Aetherian guards alike step back and give the two space - whatever this is, they don’t want a part in it. The two ‘mons circle each other slowly, each leaving aggressive THUDS with every step. They get through a full rotation before Bál stops suddenly, the flames around his neck going out completely.
The Chesnaught raises a brow, but, at the sound of several ‘mons running coming from behind him, he catches on - though the spikes on his arms stay out. A few seconds later, several more member of the Aetherian guard show up, with Matteo accompanying them. Tucker walks forward and addresses the group.
: Good evening. We’re on behalf of…
The Chespin stops when they catch sight of the Chesnaught.
: Uncle Osmund? When did you get here?
The Chesnaught - Osmund - turns around to confirm his nephew’s suspicions. The spikes on his arms finally retract, and those ‘mons that had expected the most exciting battle of their lives breathe a sigh of relief and mild disappointment. Bál runs a hand through his scruffy fur.
: Right… Matteo did tell me he was your blood...
: Shit.
Category:Meanwhiles
Category:Arc 2
Category:Aether