Heroes of Dreamland Rewritten, Book 1: Stars Amidst Lightning

Chapter 20

Meta Knight|メタナイト

Early the next morning, I go to fetch Sakura, only to get to my secret library and quickly discover that she isn't there. Exhaling in frustration, I turn around and exit as speedily and determinedly as I entered, wondering just where in Dreamland she's gotten off to. Hopefully not too far off; the last thing I need is for Dreamland's newest foretold young hero to vanish off of the face of the planet. Rolling my eyes slightly as I exit the secret passage and begin to ponder where to go looking for her first, I find myself wondering once again how someone as qualified as myself to be the one to go around saving everybody has somehow ended up being the babysitter for all these less-qualified younglings who wind up saving everybody all the time all by themselves. Just for once, it'd be nice to get some recognition for being a hero of Dreamland myself. Most people think of me as being merely one of the King's lackeys (which I can assure you, I am not) or Kirby's mentor. No one ever thinks of me as being one of the soldiers who once defended this planet and the rest of the Galaxy. Then again, the war never came to this planet, so that's probably part of it. Popstar was very lucky— although honestly, its form of 'lucky' is the Fountain of Dreams. Nightmare always did fear it. At the time, no one ever knew why. Now, thanks to Kirby, a few do.

Pausing for a moment, I look incredulously out one of the castle windows at the sky outside. As soon as the sun began to rise, the storm gradually began to calm. While it is still very cloudy out, the clouds are now more of a normal gray, rather than the eerie black of yesterday. If I look out the windows at just the right angle, I can see the Star Warriors' Garden in the distance, where the Fountain of Dreams appears to be unharmed. Unfortunately, whether it looks fine or not, it certainly did not do its job last night. Both of the times I attempted to sleep for a short time, I quickly found myself awake again, shaking in terror from awful nightmares. I suppose the worst of it is that in my case, nightmares are always, always memories. Sighing, I turn back to my task of trying to find the Kirby Dee.

On a hunch, I return to my training room, wondering if perhaps she's woken at some point in the past half hour or so, wherever she was at, and gone there of her own accord. Sure enough, that's where I find her a few minutes later, pacing anxiously in front of my training room door.

Snapping up her gaze to me the second she can hear me approaching, she comments in mild frustration, "Well, there you are."

Mildly amused, I mutter quietly as I open the training room and go in, beckoning her to follow, "I could say the same thing to you, Sakura. Did you sleep well?"

Somewhat to my surprise, she shakes her head. "Not really. I grabbed a Maxim Tomato in the kitchen before heading here, so at least I've got energy, but last night was... a bad night for sleeping," she murmurs, nervously adjusting her sheathed sword at her side. "At first, I had a terrible nightmare before I woke up and came and found you last night. And then, even when I tried to sleep the rest of the night, I just kept tossing and turning. The few times I dozed off, the same nightmare started playing again, and I'd snap awake right away rather than go through it again."

Frowning to myself, I question her disbelievingly, "What in Dreamland would you have a nightmare about?"

Shuddering, she tells me quietly, "I'd really rather not talk about it." Before I can interject otherwise, she turns her eyes to me. "So. What now? The storm's over. What do we do?"

Giving her a dubious look, I assure her, "One storm is over. There will certainly be more."

"No, duh." She rolls her eyes, but the action is good natured. "Seriously, though. What do we do?"

Unsure of what to answer, having not had appropriate time to formulate a formal plan yet, I turn to a shelf of books and maps and busy myself working through them, giving an illusion of being in control of the situation. While I do that, apparently having satisfied her need to think I'm doing something, she wanders over to a shelf of 'souvenirs' from previous battles I've won sitting in one corner. The shelf bears, among other things, a jeweled bracelet from the friend whose life Galaxia claimed in one way, a locket from the friend who lost his life to my sword in another fashion, a plain, silver sword in a nondescript leather sheath, which belonged to an old friend whom I assume lost her life the same day most of my planet did, and a pink shield with a white cross emblazoned on it, which belonged to a foe I dueled once who claimed to be 'The Greatest Warrior in the Galaxy.' Kirby has since bested him as well.