Heroes of Dreamland Rewritten, Book 1: Stars Amidst Lightning

Chapter 7

Meta Knight|メタナイト

"Do you always get up this early? It's still dark outside," Kirby Dee yawns loudly as we walk through the door. It's rather strange that she can yawn even without a mouth, or so I think. Rolling her eyes a bit, she goes on to complain, "Even as a servant I don't usually get up this early. Except for when I'm on the baking squad or guard duty, I guess."

I ignore her complaints and instead order, "Get a sword ready." She begins to inhale one lying on a weapons rack, but I shake my head firmly, which makes her pause and squint at me a bit in confusion. "No, Kirby Dee. You may learn the other Copy Abilities, but the sword you will learn on its own. It will serve you well when there are no foes to swallow. Kirby has learned that lesson the hard way a few times, but he still refuses to learn the art of the sword in its own beauty, instead continuing to solely use the 'crutch' of the Copy Abilities."

That last bit I direct toward young Kirby, narrowing my eyes and letting a touch of sarcasm enter my voice. If he was truly strong, which he could be if he made himself, he would never use the Sword Ability again unless it was an emergency. If he was truly a warrior, he would let me teach him how to be strong without relying on his enemies, which is an idea that I find incredulous and somewhat troubling.

After making a face at me, Kirby shrugs at her and nods in mild assent. "Poyo."

"All right," she hesitantly agrees, putting her stubby little paws on the sword. Turning away, I look out the window and give her the dignity of not having an audience during her struggle, instead listening in bemusement.

Quickly, she discovers that handling a sword is indeed much more difficult when she isn't leaning on a Copy Ability, which makes me smirk to myself just a little bit. "The blade is quite a bit heavier now, isn't it, little one? Fret not; you will grow used to it soon, as long as you practice a great deal."

Frustrated, she grunts once in reply as she continues to try (and fail) to pick it up.

Still not turning around, I chuckle softly once. "Not as easy as it seems, is it?"

I can feel her resulting glare even if I can't actually see it. My slightly-mocking words are producing the exact symptoms I want them to cause. If she is angry or at least annoyed, she will fight harder. Experience has often taught me that going into a fight with your 'dander up,' as it were, really does make giving your all quite a bit easier.

"Quit laughing at me," she suddenly growls in irritation, her grumpy order immediately followed by the sound of metal scraping along the stone floor as she tries to drag the weapon up off the ground. Apparently forgetting her place, she suddenly challenges, "I might not be able to beat you, Sir Knight, but at least I managed to give you a fight for a bit last night. I'm not weak. I bet I could suck up this sword and do you at least some damage, if that was what I was actually trying for."

Although I scowl a bit at the snippet of truth in her words, I don't let my annoyance show in the least. Shaking my head, I turn around and instead assure her in an emotionless voice, "Not necessarily, little one. I was not expecting a Waddle Dee to have any fighting talent, so I went quite easy on you. After all, you were not really expecting me to end you, were you? Do not forget that I follow a code of honor. I would never actually harm anyone who had done nothing to deserve it."

Her irritated confidence instantly falters. "Oh. I... oh."

Walking over to another window, I let go of my cape, rest one glove on the sill, and then continue to teach her. "Let this be your first lesson, Kirby Dee. Whereas what I just said is quite true, you cannot always just take what an opponent says at face value. Listening to a foe's taunts will keep you from ever succeeding in battle. Remember this; it will serve you well in the future."

I glance at her out of the corner of my mask's eyepiece, watching as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, forcing herself into deep concentration. "Okay. I think I understand."

In the next instant, I draw Galaxia and spin around, my cape flaring out behind me as I do so. "Let us begin."

She opens her eyes, (which I now notice are a striking chestnut in color), and then narrows them. Looking at me in determination, she declares, "Bring it on, Sir Knight."

I nod once and begin to slowly circle her, and then suddenly, I swipe. She manages to duck the attack but not parry.

"How much does this thing weigh?" she mutters impatiently, barely managing to duck another strike as she continues her struggle to get the weapon up off of the ground.

"It is not anywhere near as heavy as a tub of laundry. Think of it as one of those," I suggest in terms that will be familiar to her as I swing at her again, not even breaking a sweat. Obviously, I would never actually strike or harm her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I now observe that Kirby sits on a wooden bench up against the wall, watching us both in awe and excitement. Well, at least one of the three of us is finding his time well-spent.

Turning my attention back to the 'battle,' if you can even call it such, I watch as she keeps fruitlessly trying to lift the sword. "Come now, Kirby Dee. Quit stalling the fight. You have many battles ahead of you and we have no time to waste. Find your strength; it is in there somewhere. You have only to find it and set it free."