Heroes of Dreamland Rewritten, Book 3: Stars Amidst Darkness

Chapter 9

Meta Knight | メタナイト

For a long moment, I only stare after the door that Sakura has just stormed through, not entirely sure how to react. A tiny part of me wants to be angry, but that part is so weak compared to everything else I'm currently feeling that it has no real effect. I have no right to be angry with her at the moment. She's trying to help me, bless her soul. She's trying to help me feel better, to be happy, even. After everything I've done, after the way I've been cold and even cruel to her in the past, after the way I've flat-out avoided her for weeks, she's still trying to save me.

She still believes she can save me.

Finally, a bit numb, I shake my head. I make sure the door is locked (I still have no idea how she managed to get through it), and then cross the room to my bed. Yanking my mask off rather roughly, I set it down on the bedside table next to the lantern, and flop backwards onto the bed to stare at the ceiling.

You should just tell her the truth, some part of my subconscious murmurs. All of it.

I shake my head fiercely. I didn't even remind her, and yet memories of Halflings' poor treatment and perception are already leaking through. I can't do that to her. I can't in good conscience remind her of the horrible things they did and said to her.

So you can, in good conscience, ignore her and leave her feeling as if she's upset you? I wince at the biting reality check. You went ahead and told her that you're avoiding her because she reminds you of an old friend you've lost. Can you even begin to imagine how horrible she must feel right now because of you?

I groan and reach out for my pillow, holding it over my face. For a long moment, I just sit there, before giving a low growl directed at myself.

"You certainly have a delicate way with discussing deeply emotional topics, Lieutenant General Sir Meta Knight of the Star Warrior Army, Swordsman First Class, Goldenheart Warrior of the Seventeenth Degree, Medal of Ultimate Bravery Twelve-Time Recipient, and so on and so forth," I grunt into the pillow, placing as much sarcasm as I possibly can into every word of every title. Fake recognitions developed by Arthur to get people on his side and to desperately try and keep up morale as things steadily, forever went from bad to worse. 'Swordsman First Class?' I was high ranking and used a sword. 'Goldenheart Warrior?' I saved a high-ranking officer from certain death or immediate peril (eight of those seventeen times, it was Falspar). 'Medal of Ultimate Bravery?'

I give a particularly derisive snort.

I finished a mission, even though the soldier who was sent to accompany me passed away before we completed our assigned task.

One of those times was when I was sent to fetch Galaxia for Sir Arthur. Imagine his thinly-veiled disgust when he discovered that the sword had selected me as its wielder, as the 'rightful King of the Realm,' as it were, the one who 'removed the Sword from the Stone' (or, in this case, from the back of the beast). Imagine my completely-unveiled disgust when he was more upset by the fact that the sacred star sword had selected me as its wielder than by the fact that we had lost a good and faithful soldier in the process of obtaining it.

Although, honestly, Airwoman Sergeant Garlude was the one who 'pulled the Sword from the Stone.' She just wasn't the one chosen for it, and she paid the horrible, horrible price for it.

She should have been the one who received the Medal of Ultimate Bravery, I think to myself, not for the first time and certainly not for the last. All twelve of those soldiers should have received those awards, not me. But they died, and all their families had to show for it was a form letter and a folded up, mass-produced flag handmade in some Halcandran sweatshop, probably by children who couldn't even breathe the air outside or in without a filter scarf.