Chapter Text
He remembers the night clearly. Fire melting the snowmen, blood seeping into the uncovered dirt, screams. So many. Even with the bright moon and blazing fires, never in his memory had he made out who the attackers were.
He remembers holding his dying mother. The last family he had. He remembers swinging wildly at someone trying to kill him . In his own mind, he says damage was done. It’s hard to remember behind the pain of loss…and having an arm ripped off.
He remembers the infection that followed from his bad attempt at a bandage. High from pain and loss, he barely lived that one year he wandered around the forest. When the snow was high enough, he made camp in the rubble of his village. Where he pretended that it was all okay.
He remembers blood in the snow. Knowing that the wound had opened back up. Once, he fell into the snow near his old home. Tired. Losing blood. He fainted.
He remembers waking up in a soft bed. Had he died? No. Someone leaned over him, somewhere around his own age, ears twitching curiously. This was not Evirwinter. Firbolgs didn’t live there. The child opened his mouth and—
“Kyborg!” Mudd threw a rock at him. “Dozing off?” He scowled at the guard, who sat up in a tree.
“No! No. Not at all.” Kyborg shook himself awake and hopped from the tree. “How was training?”
“I’m getting better at projectiles. Just so you know, I was going to throw water at you, but you broke the plating on your arm last week. And you haven’t fixed it.” A glare now.
“Uhhh yeah…Well, I do have to be guarding you, Prince Bramblecrack ,” he ignored the stream coming from Mudd’s ears, “So! I haven’t had time. Ready to go back?”
Mudd sighed, “Yeah. We’re already pushing the limits.” He reached into the log of a nearby fallen tree, retrieving the dazzling crown. Like always, he didn’t put it on and just started walking. Kybrog kept pace, scanning the horizon at all times.
“Kyborg, once we get back, I am relieving you of duty for the day. Stop by Henry’s shop to drop off your arm then go take a shower. Your hair’s getting scarily greasy. My mother can braid it for you again, since you loved it so much last time.”
“Yes your—Wait! I did not ‘love’ it! I liked it. All it was was a neat way to keep my hair up.” Lair.
“Then explain to me why multiple people saw you trying to recreate it.” Mudd didn’t wait for an answer, just giving a light laugh, “There’s no shame. She doesn’t mind anyway.”
Kybrog grumbles to himself. He did like the braid. It was practical for one thing. But it also reminded him of home. There weren’t many things in the BuhBayou let alone the Witherveins that could do that.
“Hey, what were you thinking about earlier?”
“Just…Just the usual.”
Madd lays a hand on his shoulder, “Are you okay? Was the last visit there too much?”
“No, it’s all fine,” he shakes the prince off. “The part that gets me the most nowadays is not knowing who .”
“Hm. Yes, that’s the type of mystery people don’t like.” Mudd gazed on ahead. Kyborg’s known him long enough to know he’s thinking about the king. Who lies in his bed, sick. No one knows how, no one knows who (if there even is a who). At least he can do some kingly work, Mudd already despises being prince.
They walk in silence for the rest of the trip back to the castle. Slinking through the normal, more hidden paths up to the gate. When they spy Shaman Suse in the distance, they start running. Though she’s Mudd’s mentor for the druidic arts, he doesn’t like the woman. Something about being ‘overbearing’. Five more minutes of mild stealth later and they calmly walk on into the castle.
Many pairs of shoes clacked over the worn stone floor. Tapestries and paintings decorated every inch of wall not replaced by wide windows. How enormous this place was will never cease to amaze Kyborg. He had been a curious ten-year-old and tried to explore the full building in his first few days, out of curiosity and the need for a distraction from his injury. Yet, in the past decade (and a little more), there are still some mystery corridors and rooms. Even Mudd admits he hasn’t seen it all (but mostly because he isn’t as sneaky or easy to miss).
A specific pair of shoes grow louder as the two head towards the main hall. Lady Sandra rounds the corner, head held high and half her hair wound into a bun.
She smiles at the pair. “Good afternoon, you two. Where did you come from?” She glances at the bow.
“Practice!” Mudd kindly smiles at his mother. “I wanted a walk around the garden and Kyborg wanted to do some shooting. He’s getting better at compromising.” There’s a cheeky smile and nudge. Kyborg just rolls his eyes.
“Ah, how nice. Today does happen to be a lazy one. But don’t take it for granted.”
Mudd goes in to cover Kyborg’s ears but he’s swatted away. “Shhh don’t say that! I’m trying to get him to send the arm in to Henry and to shower.”
“Oh!” Lady Sandra beams, “Kyborg, dear, I’ve just perfected my fishtail braid-bun! May I test it on you?”
Kyborg blinks. “Ah. Sure, ma’am. You may.”
Her smile widens more. With a nod, her heels click off down the hall. Mudd gives him a strange smile before walking away. Kyborg ignores it and turns off into a thin door to one of the internal passages. Notes have been scrawled on the walls for directions to the maze, helping him to the small section of underground guard barracks.
Sometimes called ‘guest quarters’, most guards here either don’t have any place to go at the moment or just need a nap. Some do live down here, mainly the bodyguards or high personnel. The most people he’s seen occupying the beds was ten, including himself.
Kyborg had commandeered one bed in the corner when he was released from the medical ward and accepted as a guard-in-training, setting his few possessions onto the stand. Half a toy, some stones, scraps of clothes. By now, it had some medals and more photos. He’d fashioned himself drawers to add to the table, holding a few other pairs of clothes he owned.
Another one of the guards noticed Kyborg pulling his green tunic and loose pants, “Imma head over to help Lilia wash some stuff. Wanna throw your stuff in?”
“Let me wash up first,” he cracked the usual toothy smile and walked over to the washroom. Clothes under his real arm, he detached the metal one from its socket.
Some time later he’d passed off the clothes and went back to wandering. Walking with one arm sitting in an old satchel, he untangled his waist-length hair, passing by the family portraits. Year after year of Bramblecracks. Generations. Kyborg took a brief pause at the one with the vague shape of an elf in the corner. Lord Loamish hadn’t been the most supportive of including Kybrog as an honorary family member, bloodlines and all. Mudd had convinced the painter to add him into the corner, not to tell his father until the painting was varnished and hung up.
More meandering later and he lightly knocked on Lady Sandra’s door. She called for him and he went in. The room was grand, but sometimes felt quaint. Kyborg never paid much attention to it.
“Sit,” she patted a low stool situated in front of the vanity. He awkwardly sat on it, setting the bag at his feet. “Do you enjoy living here? And please, be honest.”
“I’d prefer if my family were alive, as always. But I do like this. Everyone’s always been nice to be and the like. I don’t know…It’s a life.” He shrugs.
“The same answer as always.” She hums and keeps working on his hair. It’s a light tug as more and more damp hair disappears from sight. Lady Sandra grabs a tie and some pins, finishing off the braid, and winding it into a low bun. “How nice! Miss Flynn has been asking me to help her with hair like this for ages. I think this will be perfect for her. Thanks for being the test subject.” She pats Kybrog’s shoulder.
He twists around in the seat, craning to see the back of his head. The mission isn’t too successful in the end. But he trusts her. “She has an eye for Miss Diamond, correct?”
“Yes. I think they’d be cute together.”
“Hm. I have to agree.” He stands and smiles at her, “Thank you, Lady Sandra.” With a small respectful dip of his head, Kyborg takes his bag and heads back out.
The BuhBayou is some mixture between swamp and river delta. Humid with reeds growing at every bank, but not entirely built precariously on stilts. Docks stretch out in all directions to the ocean, small hills growing inland. Kyborg passes through the bustling downtown, just another figure in the crowd. Merchants call out sales and goods, kids selling the daily news ring bells, people gossip on street corners, nowhere is silent. A nice change from the desolate nature of the castle.
He almost misses the shop and turns at the right moment, a bell jingling with the door. Inside the wooden shop is quiet, filled with faint sounds of machinery and clocks ticking. Henry, of older age and ‘average height’ tiefling stands at the counter. He smiles upon seeing Kyborg.
“Ayyy! There’s the Mighty one!” He sets down another project. “What’s been keeping ya away?”
“Just the normal duties. Thanks for the Longbow of Triumph, been shooting a lot better tricks with that thing.”
“It’s nothing, my friend. I see you’ve done something to the ‘ol arm, eh?” He glances at the satchel with a smirk.
Kyborg pulls out the arm fashioned by Henry himself, “Between a certain bird pecking and a fall, some panels flew right off.” He sighs.
“Same old prince, eh? That boy doesn’t change.”
“Still the same hard shell,” Kyborg laughs. He loves Mudd, really. They are each other’s brothers. “So, how much do you need for that?” He starts reaching for the money pouch when Henry stops him.
“Nothin’ for you, old pal. And this is minor anyway. Come back in a few hours.” He takes the arm, “I heard that Jeremiah is still on the docks. Captain’s got some new stock. And new crew.”
The Jeremiah. A grand trading vessel, arriving in these docks every few months. Captain Marge and her crew go all over, bringing back tales.
Kybrog nods, “Alright. See you in a bit, Henry.” With a mock salute, he turns and leaves. Back to the bustle. He crosses along the docks, watching the sailors unload and load their ships. Captains set up small shops in front of their boats, selling items with mild charisma. It takes a good five minutes to walk all the way to the end of the port, where lowlands suddenly turned to thick grass and reeds.
The Jeremiah was tall and mighty. Covered in barnacles and dirty, but still a beast of the ocean. Sailors passed around boxes, shouting orders. Captain Marge ticked things off a list and stood near some half-opened boxes. Two…people sat on the dock next to the boxes. They both looked like children and adults at once. A stout halfling picked at a mostly-broken lute while the other (who could be half-orc because he was smaller than a normal orc or just a pre-maturity full-orc) stares intensely at a smooth rock.
“Captain Marrrrrrge!” Kyborg called out, smiling wider when the Captain turned.
“Aye matey! What brings ye to my here Jeremiah?”
“I got time off and got time to kill! Got any wares today?” He gave the woman a quick hug.
“A few, good friend! Special arrows, some food, weapons, clothes. What ya need?” She motioned to the crates. “A good deal, as always.”
“Arrows?”
“Yeah. Arrows dipped in potions. Poison, strength, moderate illusions, the like. One set bursts! A bundle of ten will cost ye five gold. Easy on your pay, eh?”
Kyborg scoffs, “Sure. Two sets of bursting arrows and one of poison.” He takes out the money pouch and holds it in his mouth, searching for fifteen gold. Captain Marge rifles through one of the crates and pulls out the sets. Kyborg tosses the money and Marge puts the arrows in the bag.
“Anything else?”
“What foods?”
“Some nuts and fruit from around. Something you’d like…” Marge taps her chin and spies over the list. “Give me a minute.”
Kyborg nods and scans the area. It’s less crowded at the end of the harbor, which makes talking easier. He squints at a figure at the edge of the crowd. Someone brushes past, where nothing seems to be, but visibly hits something. The figure seems to notice him and tenses up. A little more squinting later and he sighed. It was Mudd. Most definitely.
“Pal?” Marge asks.
“One sec, Captain. I gotta retrieve the little one.” He smirked and calmly walked off. Mudd tried to act calm and nonchalant, but visibly stiffened. “Great to see you.”
He had a charade of a generally smaller human. Pink hair, tan skin, dark eyes. “Hi?”
“Well, if you’re going to leave, might as well hang out with me. You can buy some fruit and weapons.” Kyborg patted his shoulder, visually hitting the air. He found Mudd’s sleeves and dragged him back to the Jeremiah.
“Hello…?” Marge held a few fruits in her arms.
“Sorry about that.” He smiled and looked to Mudd, “Drop it.”
“I’m not an animal .” Mudd groaned and returned to his normal self. He had his flowering cloak on and one of his mother’s large sun hats.
Captain Marge just laughed. “Anyway, we got…stuff. I can’t remember their names!” Another laugh. “But ya can taste these.”
Mudd reached for one when the halfling ran up, tugging on the Captain’s coat. “Marrrrrge…I thought the fruits were for us .”
“Not all of them. We got stuff to sell anyway.”
“Really? We usually get money from—“
“We’re sea merchants, Bucko Bart. The BuhBayou is our biggest port. And if we’re gonna fix the Jeremiah, we need the money!”
“Oh, what happened?” Kyborg peered around, trying to gauge any damage.
Captain Marge shook her head, “The storm hit us hard! Mast’s all cracked and the hull’s been punched. Sea’s a beast all right!” She managed to laugh. The halfling made an odd face. “Dry dock’s nearby, right?”
“With a little work, this is a dry dock! Most are on the other end but the poles can be fastened in for ease. You’re in good hands,” Kyborg smiled. “Rate probably won’t be too much, but if you sell some wares to the mechanics, you can get a small discount.”
Captain Marge nodded slowly, but kept glancing at Mudd. He rolled his eyes, “Bargaining isn’t a crime, mate.”
“Great! Hey! Sally! Go get a crew to set up the dry dock!” Marge called over her shoulder at one sailor. The sailor nodded and scurried off down the harbor. “We’re gonna be here a while…”
“More time to sell!”
“Yes. Always.” Marge looked to the sky for a moment, “Agh. That’ll be more ‘morrow. Storm’s a brewin’ quickly.” She dumped the fruits back into a crate and set the lid. Another holler to the crew and some sailors started to set up a tent around unloaded cargo. She settles on a crate and the halfling (‘Bart’) finally goes back to sit with his friend. “I was gonna ask how the family was but I can guess. Word of mouth bein’ King’s still sick. Ya hair’s nice, pal, so Queen Sandra’s alright. And the little prince is still up to his antics.” She flashes a toothy smile at Mudd, who keeps frowning.
“I come here often,” Kyborg directs to Mudd. He looks back to the Captain. “Yeah, you’re the one with the interesting life. How’s it been?”
“Eh. Merchant stuff. I found these two recently,” she points to the maybe-kids. “Been troublesome since. Bucko can spin a fine song however. GG is also gettin’ better at the ol axe.”
“And magic!” ‘GG’ adds, holding up the rock. “I can feel it.”
Bart groaned, “But he can’t control it. He got angry the other day and the whole ship erupted in flashing lights.”
“I could…assist in control,” Mudd’s expression was not promising. “There would be a trade—“
Kyborg shuts him up, “You are staying on land, Mudd! My job is to protect you and neither of us are very good on the ocean. AND! You have responsibilities here.”
“Cut it out, Kyborg! I’d be a lousy king, everyone knows it. Father doesn’t trust me and I hate diplomacy . Practicing druidic arts and explorations sounds better.” He holds his head high.
“Your family would still miss you if you left.” Kyborg clenches and unclenches his one fist. “Right now, you may not realize it, but you’ll miss them too. No matter how annoying they are. Or—Or how much you hate them.”
“Your projecting.”
“Can’t you have a little sympathy?”
Mudd just stared at him. There was nothing on his face but that blank stare. Kybrog knew he always had some trouble voicing emotions and had gotten better at reading his face for some clue. Now, nothing. Either he’s gotten good at hiding it or he truly feels nothing. Mudd turns and he leaves without another word.
Captain Marge looks as if she’s about to say something when that sailor comes back with some mechanics. She rushes over to them to help set up.
Thunder rolls in the distance.
“You lost your family?” Bart’s voice redirects Kyborg. “We did too. Well, that’s what’s assumed. All Gum-Gum and I can remember is living in the Orchardnage together.”
“Then Captain came along and we’re off to the ocean!” Gum-Gum smiles.
“Exactly true! So, uh, what happened to yours?”
“My entire village was murdered. Don’t know who, don’t know why.”
“And your arm was lost there?”
“Yes.”
“So you just don’t have an arm?”
“The Bramblecracks gave me a replacement metal arm when I became a guard for them. Speaking of that, I have to pick it up from the shop.” He starts to leave.
“Can we come with you?” Gum-Gum calls out. He doesn’t wait for an answer and rushes up, Bart on his shoulders. “Are there magic shops here?”
“What?”
“I may not know my papa, but he must be a wizard! And when I grow up, I want to be a great wizard. Gum-Gum: Best Flower Wizard in Faeza!”
Kyborg stares at him warily for a moment but then turns and keeps walking. They push through the reduced crowds, occasionally stopping as one spots something shiny. Eventually they make it to Henry’s shop and enter back to the quiet.
The two start poking at things while Henry exits his back room. “Ah, Kyborg. Right on time? Did you bring friends?”
“From the Jeremiah.” He shrugs, “They’re just bored.”
“Well, either way, here’s your arm. Good as new,” Henry smiled brightly and held out the arm.
Kyborg gently took it attached it back into the socket, “For all you’ve done—“
“You are not paying me.”
He stood there, conflicted between morals and actually being okay with not paying. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”
“Just come back to chat with an old man sometime.” Henry nods and looks to the other two, “Anything for you two?”
“No, thank you, sir!” Bart flashes a bright smile. “Captain Marrrge would never trust us with such advanced weapons such as these!”
“You flatter me! Everyone should head home with this storm I hear approaching.” He shooed the three out of the store with a smile.
Wind had picked up recently, thunder rumbling more often. “Give the Captain my best wishes,” Kyborg nods and calmly walks off to the castle.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Shaman Suse says from her place at the door.
It’s been just under a week and things haven’t really changed. Kyborg and Mudd still wander around the castle grounds once a day, practicing their skills. Otherwise, Mudd is doing something lame like reading or talking to animals. Kyborg does cool things like train and hang out with the other guards. Today is a royal parade. And Mudd knows that he can’t sit still and look pretty for long. It doesn’t help that the Jeremiah is still at the dock.
Mudd stares at himself in the mirror, and gently fixes a floral bow tie. “No. I have to do this.” He glances at the crown, heavy set with jewels and made to balance on his head perfectly.
Suse looks to Kyborg, standing in the corner. Hair in a simple braid, wearing some guard’s armor at his important joints. He stiffens, tightening the grip on his bow.
“He said that, didn’t he?” The Shaman spits. “You little guard, spitting his options every few moments. Evirwinter, you know your place, correct?”
“Do not talk to my brother like that,” Mudd spat back. “He has said those things, but I still know my duties.”
“Some say those things, but they lie. Manipulation and the like. He is just like your parents, stifling your possibilities. You could be a great druid—“
“I can still be one, I’ll have time. And no. Kyborg sits by me when I train, training with me. The only thing he stifles is my mood. But that’s okay, he’s my little brother.” Mudd keeps his chin up and scowls. “Sues, if you have nothing else to say, leave.”
“Now, how dare—“
Kyborg took a step forward, “Shaman Sues, you heard the Prince. You know your place, right?”
She scowled deeply, turning around and slamming the door as she left. Mudd watches her go and looks back to Kyborg. He smiles then starts laughing. Kyborg cracks up just a little, but doesn’t laugh fully so his abdomen won’t be sore when doing his job. Mudd gives him a small punch to the shoulder before taking deep breaths, calming down. His face is tinged red but calming.
“Thanks for defending my honor,” Kyborg says while Mudd gently places the crown on his head.
“No problem. Are you ready to go?” He pulls on the usual flowering cloak.
“As always.”
Wind stirs the humid summer air, making the event a little more enjoyable. A large number of BuhBayou citizens and a handful of the visitors stand on the castle grasses. The parade had circled around various parts of the port-side city, meeting people and talking to them. Mudd clearly knew a few, but no one but Kyborg seemed to notice. Another circle back to the castle and it was time for a speech. Spoken by Lord Loamish, sickly but able to project. They had dug out a wheelchair for him.
Scruffy beard, fluffed hair. Heavy crown. He held papers in shaking hands. Mudd stood tall to his left, Kyborg far off to the left of him. Lady Sandra put a hand on the king’s shoulder, assuring and soft.
“Lovely citizens,” his voice was hoarse but carried far. “Thank you for coming out today. You have all been great people, great citizens of the Witherveins. But we are here to confront the future of our home. As people know, I have been suffering from an unknown illness for some time. I will likely recover from this with the advances in medicine known to Faeza. Yet there has always been the chance that I am reduced to a state where I cannot lead you people. This kingdom has seen rulers far past their prime make bad decisions on the throne. Some take generations to undo. I do not wish for this to happen again.”
Murmurs rise through the crowd. ‘What?’ ‘What’s he going to do?’ ‘How?’ Voices rise as they do. Mudd looks over, panic forming. Lady Sandra’s face does the same, but in response to the crowd. Shouts from her and the king don’t quiet them.
“I don’t know if I want this,” Mudd hisses in Elvish. “Kyborg I—“
“Kyborg, love,” Lady Sandra calls, “can you quiet them?”
He nods. Although he hasn’t gotten to using any new arrows, a passing with Marge told him that they all hit to hit something to activate. Kyborg shoots one normal arrow high into the sky and quickly nocks the explosive one. Some expert calculations later and it goes flying. Both hard to see again the sun—
BOOM!
They all quiet. Kyborg blinks but turns to Lady Sandra and bows his head. She gives a wary smile. Mudd’s breathing is less even and less calm.
Lord Loamish clears his throat, “As I was saying. I do not wish for this to happen again. So, as a precaution, my son, Prince Mudd Bramblecrack will be crowned early.” Mutters rise, this time shushed with the king’s hand. “In one month, he will take my place at the throne. Prince Mudd is a capable young man who will have the assistance of his parents for as long as he needs it. I trust him with this power. Thank you, citizens.” He dips his head then looks at his son.
Mudd lightly smiles and bows. But he is not doing well. Panicked. Scared. Ready to run.
Citizens seem satisfied and with waves from other royal guards, they are ushered from the grounds. Kyborg is giving small orders to them, not hearing whatever words are being exchanged between family members. One guard comes over to assist Lady Sandra and Lord Loamish. It is just Mudd and Kyborg on the makeshift wooden stage.
“They should’ve told me.” Mudd is shaking.
“They knew you would run.” Kyborg slings his bow over his torso and moves to gently put his hands on Mudd’s shoulders.
“I can’t do this.”
“Take a deep breath, Mudd.”
He shakes his head. He is breathing quicker and unsteadily.
Kyborg furrows his eyebrows and scans the horizon. He needs to get Mudd out somewhere better, but somewhat discreetly. And without the jewels. A certain Miss Herman, kind and a grandmother of five, passes by. “Miss Herman!” He waves her over.
She is worried, “Sir? Your Majesty? What’s wrong.”
“Nothing that a walk won’t fix!” He laughs. It’s uneasy and unconvincing. “Ma’am, will you do us a quick favor?”
“Of course. What is it?”
Kyborg swiftly takes the crown from Mudd, gently placing it in the arms of Miss Herman. “Please put this in the prince’s bedroom. And, uh, don’t mention this to the king or queen. It is best of Prince Bramblecrack is alone at the moment.”
“Of course, Kyborg of Evirwinter.” She pauses. “Get him some water and something sweet to eat. Eases nerves.” With a small wink she scurries off into the castle.
Luckily, Mudd is still standing there by the time he turns back and Kyborg takes his wrist. They run out of the grounds and through the narrow side streets. Deserted, thankfully. Into a small patch of forest at the edge of the city, following the winding rivers and lowlands until the ground threatens to soak their shoes. Kyborg guides Mudd to a rock and sits him down.
“Oh, shoot. I shouldn’t’ve made you run. Sorry about that.”
“Talk.”
“What?”
“Just—talk.” Mudd leans against him slightly, still shaking. Still breathing heavily. He’s keeping his eyes shut tight.
“Oh. Uh. Alright. Well, the thing is, I can remember so much about my family.” And he starts rambling on and on about his old life. He hadn’t had it for long but it had an impact. He talked about his mother who taught him how to shoot a bow and would braid his father’s hair before hunting trips. He talked about his father who always played hide-and-seek with them and taught him how to gut a fish. He talked about his sister who’d instigate fights every few days but also helped bandage wounds. There was a lot to mention. Neighbors with funny stories, seasonal festivals, the beauty of the forest.
He talks, slowly noticing a calm in Mudd. Deep breaths, no shaking. Kyborg looks off to the shallow water at their feet, “I do miss them. They were some of the best family and friends I could’ve asked for. Not saying that you guys aren’t cool but—“
A wave of fatigue hits him. Mudd seems to feel it too, blinking his eyes open only halfway.
Mudd yawns, “What was—“ Neither of them reach the end of that sentence, sleep pulling over them like a warm blanket.