Garden Knight

Part 8

Nosferatu stood over him, her grin steadily widening as she licked her lips. "You know sweet Caro," She began talking as she stung the stinger towards him, only for it to be deflected by the blade. "If you had just died, we wouldn't even be here," She stabbed towards him, being deflected again by the blade as her second sword, a needle, and thread she had named Fisherman, dug into his shoulder as she pulled the thread dragging him to the ground. Her wings opened as she took to the sky dragging the beetle upwards. He looked down at the fading world, shrinking, shrinking, fading, He reached for his dangling sword as Fisherman started loosening up, the blade started sliding, his blood dripped down his arm.

Then his headache, his mask fell and his head throbbed as he opened his eyes, he noticed his pincer-like horns shining, he noticed yellow in his stabbed arm as it raised on its own and suddenly. A sudden explosion of light rip through his arm, he felt everything in his right arm shatter, his blade broke in two as his pincer broke and dropped to the floor, his hand and arm exploded in a mess of blood and bone as he shielded his eyes and looked down.

A snail might've called it a firework and had much to write about it. "Fireworks cut through the black like they're superimposed on the night, like the stars behind are only a backdrop brought in for the occasion. Every streak bares a curve of sorts, brilliant lines with a living feel, organic in the way they grow."

Caro closed his eyes falling to the ground, For a full half-minute, he went downward at a speed that constricted his throat so that he could hardly draw breath. Everything was a blur, a blur that swirled out of existence. Suspended in the air, he closed his eyes and surrendered himself into the infinite sky above. He crashed into the ground, his body was beaten and broken as he looked up and saw Nosferatu still flying above him, her arm, chest, face, and wings were burnt as she reached up to feel her face she landed and took a step. Where there had been smooth skin was torn muscle and blood, as raw as any carcass at the butchers. She pointed to him before starting to fly again. "I-I..." She suddenly coughed up blood. "I'll kill you, Caro!" She said. "I'll end you!" She threw her sword towards him.

He ran on the spot, stamping his feet for a few seconds, and then jogged halfway down the lane and back, still thumping, and finally, he threw himself to the ground, clutching his arm, and rolling first one way, and then the other, in agony. The pain was deep within his arm, stinging and burning, almost as if the humerus bone was smoldering, and in the far distance, though he'd heard an evil laughing. When he turned she was gone.

He walked to the garden, his arm was shattered, his left pincer broken off and on the ground as he slowly walked past the snails who seemed worried for him. His mask was burned, he seemed different something about him was off, he was hiding the pain in his arm, in his head. That magic blast wasn't something he thought about, it was something instinctual. He walked to Willy and his house moving to open the door before stopping and turning to the growing crowd of Snails. He realized they were staring at his arm. Slowly, achingly slow, he raised his arm and smiled to them. "Nothing to worry about....I will come to the celebration soon..." He said before walking inside.

He touched his face before looking at Willy, sitting in his chair with a pen in his hand. "I spoke," Caro said quietly. "Willy," He walked over as Willy turned and hugged him. "I spoke, I can talk, I-" He stopped. "How is this possible?"

"Gaulin told me," He let go. "The snails consider us royalty and when she gave you two percent of her magic it activated your ability to speak. You and I are the kings to the snails." He said before frowning. "Your horn, it's broken..." He then inspected the smaller knight. "Your arm shattered...what happened?"

Caro told him everything while Willy cut and made a small sling for the other's arm, then a cast. "If you'd like we can call off the celebration, let you rest and recuperate?" Caro was silent as he shook his head. "Still going?"

"You guys spent too much time on such a lil' knight like me, Of course, I'm going," He said standing from his seat and smiling. He went to the door and went to open it before turning. "You coming? I hope so," He said walking out and looking at the festival the snails had made for the knight.

He looked around amazed. It was the festival of lights. Along the usually dark wintry lane shone hundreds of lamps; illuminating with their flickering candles. The light was cast every color by the tinted panes and Tina couldn't help but be reminded of candy. It was as if the lane was iced by the baker on the high-street, and even better than the cake she had last birthday. Everywhere there were folks in their winter garb, thick woolen jackets, mitts, and scarfs. To add to the gaiety most children carried a lamp of their own making, their gentle puffs of steaming breath made visible by the glow, only to disappear into the inkiness. At the stroke of eight on the old town clock would come the first wave of songs, songs of thanks to echoing into the homes of even the curmudgeons. Tonight the windows of the hospital would be open despite the cold, the doctors believed the multitude of voices from young and old alike to have a stronger effect on their patients than any medicine they had to offer.

Caro was happy, Gaulin was Happy, Willy was happy.