King of Monkarts (OC insert)

Towards the Knight

A relentless tattoo of steel on steel vibrated through Silver's skull, dragging him from a restless sleep. He'd been on this train for what felt like an eternity. Groaning, he stretched, wincing as his muscles protested the cramped confines of the economy seat. He craned his neck to see the harsh red numerals of the clock mocking him: 7:30 AM.

Fatigue gnawed at him. Years of relentless training, brutal battles, and stolen nights of sleep had taken their toll. The constant drone of the engine, a low hum that resonated in his bones, did little to soothe his frayed nerves.

He reached into his well-worn satchel, pulling out a leather-bound journal that whispered of forgotten stories. Its worn pages held his faded dreams, victories etched in triumphant scrawl, and defeats marked by tear-stained ink. A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he traced the familiar grooves of the cover.

With a sigh, he flipped to a blank page and began to write.

"Hey, Journal," his pen scratched across the aged paper, the familiar greeting warming a forgotten corner of his heart. "Feels like ages since we last spoke..."

He paused, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. The act of writing, of reliving the memories trapped within these pages, was a balm to his weary soul. Some memories shimmered with the joy of youthful camaraderie, others were shrouded in the shadow of loss.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady the torrent of emotions. Focusing, he wrote,

"We're nearing Reflower Town. Easy win, hopefully. Been through their tournament a few times with..." his pen faltered, the name refusing to come.

Lyca, his loyal rock wolf, stirred at his feet, its brown fur catching the dim glow of the compartment. Beneath its placid exterior lay a formidable beast, a silent guardian sworn to protect its king.

"Wonder if the fabled Yggdrasil flower is still around," he murmured, a flicker of curiosity sparking in his amethyst eyes. "Wouldn't mind catching up with it."

A sudden jolt as the train lurched to a halt startled him, nearly sending the journal tumbling from his grasp. The compartment door hissed open, revealing a kaleidoscope of personalities. There was a young man with fiery red hair that defied gravity, his crimson Monsword, emblazoned with a snarling dragon, vibrating with a strange energy that sent a shiver down Silver's spine. He couldn't shake the feeling he'd seen that blade before, a memory flickering just out of reach.

Across from him sat another, his raven hair cascading down his back like a midnight waterfall, framing a flamboyant purple outfit. A ridiculously oversized scarf, the color of a bruised plum, draped over his broad shoulders, adding a touch of theatricality to his already striking appearance. Beside him, a wizened old man peered over spectacles perched comically on the bridge of his bulbous nose. His bushy eyebrows danced with curiosity as he scrutinized Silver. His unruly white hair, a tangled halo around his head, gave him the air of a mad scientist on the verge of a breakthrough.

A flicker of recognition sparked in Silver's steely gaze as he caught sight of the girl. Platinum blonde hair, the color of moonlight spun into a shimmering braid and cascaded down her back. Princess Sena. What on Chromatic was she doing on this rickety train, jostling through the twilight with a motley crew?

Intrigued, he stole another glance towards the red-haired kid. The crimson glow of his Monsword pulsed with an unsettling familiarity. It bore the emblem of two snarling dragon heads intertwined, a design that sent a tremor of unease through him. Where had he seen it before? A memory flickered at the edges of his mind, a half-forgotten battle shrouded in dust and despair. Sir Keit? No way could this newcomer wield the legendary Knight's blade.