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Lancelot was falling.
He had not been falling mere seconds ago- the open fields of Titanic Plain had laid out before him, and his fellow knights stood at his side, overlooking the fields with him.
Peace in Camelot had been mostly maintained, excluding a few skirmishes and one brawl between Sir Gawain and a rowdy innkeeper that Sir Lancelot wasn't fully convinced the echidna was ashamed of. He, Gawain and Sir Percival had been traveling as a group, scanning the closer reaches of Camelot's lands within days of the castle town.
The enemies of Camelot remained quiet, which both comforted and worried Lancelot. At one time, he would have been confident that the silence was due to his king's presence, a looming hero and protector that had proven himself not to be messed with whenever attempts at invasion had approached.
King Arthur, ruler of Camelot, defender of his people, knight of the wind, and the defeater of entire armies all on his own. His response to the awe of such a feat had always been a wide smile and a shrug, 'Eh, I did it all the time back home. No big deal.'
But it was a 'big deal.' Even after the king's departure for his own world, it had been quite some time since anyone had tried to overthrow the empire. Lancelot would be lying if he hadn't tried to prolong their ignorance of Sonic's departure for as long as he could. The longer the invaders thought the blue speedster of a king was there, just waiting for them to try something, the safer the people of Camelot would be.
It wouldn't last forever, however. Lancelot had already seen small patches on the outskirts be pulled from their grasp, and it wouldn't take much longer for them to realize Sonic wasn't coming to stop them... And then it might end in chaos.
This was what Lancelot had been thinking over in those open fields, when the fields were then gone, and he was tumbling. Any other time, he would have traveled to safety immediately, but the darkness that swallowed him was wide, and he had no reference to try and travel to.
And he knew better than to try and travel to a place he could not see or imagine.
His breaths echoed in the dark, his hands grasping for something and finding nothing but open air.
Lancelot, my knight!
Arondight's shrill voice called from his hilt, What is happening!?
"H-Hold on, my blade...!" Lancelot panted, looking around for something- anything.
And then, all at once, the darkness was replaced with a brightness that contrasted and scorched his eyes- and a hard, sudden floor that his armor clanked loudly on as they met.
Lancelot grunted, his eyes shut tight and every inch of his body stiff as the air in his chest escaped his lungs and refused to be replenished. He could hear his king's voice in his head, chuckling and his hand offered after throwing his knight on the ground in a similar manner during a sparring match. 'Get the wind knocked out of ya, Lance?'
Finally, the air returned, and he gasped before sitting up, wincing a bit and peering through his mask. Groans and grunts told him he was not alone, and he saw his fellow knights had also fallen into whatever this had been. Not surprising, considering they'd been beside him just before.
Where are we? Where are we!? Percival's blade peeped nervously.
"Hush, Lavatein..." Percival whispered, patting her hilt very gently.
Well, A soft, but tinny voice replied, That wasn't supposed to happen.
Yeah! Came another, I didn't even know they had a Knuckles back then!
"Quiet, you dolts!" Growled a third.
The knights looked up, and found themselves surrounded by a floor, walls and ceiling of metal. Sheer and practically unblemished, the entire room was armored, but they also weren't alone. Before them was a figure holding an ancient book and flipping through its pages, and at his ankles were two... automatons, one red, one yellow.
The figure himself was unlike those the knights were familiar. He towered over them- his legs alone would have reached their full height- and were slender before reaching a robust middle, accompanied by equally long arms and then a small head set atop it that was half-hidden by a mighty mustache that twitched as he grumbled and flipped through the pages of the tome.
"Argh... I couldn't have used the wrong spell, I don't make miscalculations like that!" He muttered, "Sacred sword, sacred sword...!"
I sense a darkness in this individual. Arondight warned, I would not trust him.
Lancelot had already come to the same conclusion. He had brought the knights here against their own wills, after all, and the way the two automatons seemed to cower in his presence- his servants bound to his will.
Lancelot's memory then pulled back a conversation he'd once had with his king. Arthur had spoken of a great adversary of his, a fiend back in his own world that matched this figure's description. Could this be some ancestor of him... Or... Could it be that-
The man waved a hand, and Lancelot gasped as he saw the dark, wispy figures of the Underworld's warriors appear at the edges of the space, "Disarm them and put them in the containment until I figure this out." His eyes flickered upwards towards Lancelot, "Especially him."
As the king would say, 'To hell with that!' Gawain's twin blades, Galatine, announced in unison.
The knights jumped to their feet, and searched for a place to break loose of the approaching horde. They needed to get out where they had space to fight if they were to engage in battle against this many foes at once. There appeared to be no doors to this room, but there had to be one somewhere!
But as Lancelot took a step, he felt a sense of space below him. There was a lower floor.
He unsheathed Arondight, and then he looked to his companions. "Hold tight. RAUGH!"
Arondight's enchantment of sharpest blade did him justice, and as Lancelot stabbed him into the floor, he cut through it like butter, and then with a quick movement, the knight carved a hole large enough for them to drop through.
"GET THEM! WHAT GOOD ARE YOU!?"
The knights hit the ground below, and this time, they found themselves not in a room, but a corridor- a corridor that suddenly became bathed in red as the light over them changed, and a loud, irritating sound blared like horns out of tune.
"Must be the alarm." Gawain looked to the hedgehog and cat, "What is our plan?"
"We must escape this fortress-" Percival replied, "Wherever it is. Once we are outside, we can find proper shelter and determine what step to take next."
"The fiend mentioned trying to attain the sacred swords." Lancelot looked to Arondight in his hand, and then returned him to his hilt. "We can't let him succeed. This way!"
The irritable sound and dim, red lighting continued as they began to flee. The limited light resulted in the walls appearing the same, and still, no doors. What kind of fortress had no doors? Or perhaps they blended in?
Finally, they caught sight of something other than metal walls or red light- a small window that shone in light from outside. "There!"
Gawain swung his fist and the tiny window shattered into pieces, exposing the knights to the open air of the exterior of the fortress. But they wouldn't be able to fit on their own.
"Blades." Lancelot pulled Arondight from his hilt and the others all pulled free from theirs as well, "Go on ahead and find shelter. We will locate you once it is safe."
You jest! Lavatein cried, We cannot leave you in peril!
"There is no time, Lavatein." Percival winced, "We will be alright."
Come, sisters! Arondight informed, Be reminded who our wielders are. They will find us.
The uneasiness and fear vibrated from the other blades, but a nudge from Arondight sent the other blades fleeing out of the window and into the sky. Within moments, they were far from the fortress, and the knights were already on the run again through the corridors. They must find a door, there had to be one somewhere.
Then they found one, but it was not on the outer wall, but rather to an inner chamber. The next door they found was the same.
"Let us hope this fortress is not surrounded by water on all sides." Percival huffed, "I am not much of a swimmer- Augh!"
"Percival!"
Lancelot turned back as the cat stumbled, the toe of her sabaton having caught in an uneven portion of the floor. She winced in pain as he helped her to stand, pulling her leg up under her. "Can you-"
"I can make it, Lancelot...!" She hissed, taking his support with one arm as they resumed their progress. The dark soldiers were gaining ground on them.
"Alas, these corridors are like a maze!" Gawain huffed, "We continue downward, but there are no windows, and no telling if we have passed the door and are making our way below ground!"
The trio gasped as the hall suddenly was cut short- a wall of sheer metal came slamming down from the ceiling in front of them. Their armor clanked as they ran into the new obstacle, and then looked back towards the army of dark warriors headed their way, their eyes glowing with that unnatural color.
Lancelot looked to Percival, her face twisted in pain from her wounds- and to Gawain, his eyes burning with the fire to defend both himself and his comrades to the bitter end if he had to.
They'd promised they would find their blades, and they would not be able to do so if they were slain here... They needed to go. Where, he did not know, and that would be a problem shortly, but for now, anywhere was better than this.
You will surrender immediately. One of the warriors replied, their voice seeming to vibrate and ring falsely in the knights' ears.
Lancelot's brows furrowed, and then he grasped the arms of each of his companions. "Nay... dimitte nos de loco isto!"
The fire of green washed over all three of them, and Lancelot felt his own strength being sapped from his limbs to fuel it. The corridor and their adversaries vanished, his arms and legs began to shake, but he shifted his position to keep from falling.
Take us somewhere... anywhere but here...
All at once, the fire was gone, replaced by a dark, dreary atmosphere that smelled intently of rain. The foul stench that had lingered in the air of the fortress was gone, and his ears picked up the sound of thunder rolling in the distance... before the darkness overcame his senses.
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Gawain had barely managed to settle Percival in the cool, soft grass before he had to catch Lancelot, preventing the hedgehog from fully hitting the ground. "Lancelot!"
He cradled the knight as he went limp, lifting his visor to overlook him closer. He did not see any wounds or physical marks, but he remembered the knight's words once- his magics had a limit, and crossing long distances was a significant drain even when he was at full-strength.
He pressed his ear to the hedgehog's chestplate just the same, relieved to hear his heartbeat was steady. "...Rest, friend. You did us a great favor this day..."
"Gawain..."
The echidna looked to Percival as she spoke, and he saw her looking ahead with wide eyes. He looked back, and his eyes also widened.
Beyond the field where they rested stood the edges of a town, sparse structures leading their way towards denser streets and roads that wound inward, and twisted rods of metal that glowed with light at their ends despite there not being any visible flame to ignite them. It was not like any town or village they had come across in Camelot, which could only tell them that this was not Camelot.
"...We are free of our captor for now, but we must seek shelter."
Gawain adjusted his grasp on Lancelot, holding him up on his left side and then aiding Percival to lean on him against his right side. "Let us hope the townsfolk are friendly and will grant us a place to hide until we can gain our bearings..."
The echidna trudged his way towards the town, doing his best to not jostle Lancelot too much or move a pace too quick for Percival to hobble along easily- which unfortunately was not a quick pace. By the time they reached the edge of the town, the gray, looming clouds had broken open into a light shower, and he had a feeling it would only grow worse.
They would catch their deaths if they didn't find shelter from the rain soon.
"Gawain, look."
Percival pointed ahead, and the echidna searched the streets until he saw what had caught her eye. A mural had been painted on a nearby wall, brightly colored and with decorative lettering, but it was not the words that caught their attention, but the figure that was depicted beside them.
A blue hedgehog, with green eyes and a smile as wide as the Titanic Plain.
"We have reached the realm of our king..." Percival whispered softly, looking around the square with a renewed smile of relief.
"Oh..." Gawain's shoulders slumped a bit as he smiled as well, "...Such words are the sweetest to rest on my ears this day..."
"Perhaps he is here in this town, or someone knows where we might find him."
"Agreed... Pardon my interruption." He addressed a pair walking down the street, "We are looking for someone. Sonic?"
The pair paused, looking the trio up and down with curiosity, before one of them answered. "Erm... Yes! Yes, this is his hometown. He's probably at home at this point- maybe, he does like to wander..."
"Oh, we are aware..." Percival hummed with a smile, remembering all the times they had to search for their king during his time in Camelot when he got tired of sitting in the castle and just left its walls for the afternoon.
She jumped as a loud crash of thunder shook the street, "C-Could you direct us to him home? We are in a bit of a hurry."
"It's right down that street a few miles."
"Thank you..."
Gawain sighed, "A few miles... Here, Percival."
He motioned for her to lean against the wall of the building they stood by, and then shifted his position to be holding Lancelot with both arms, "Now, wrap your arms around my shoulders."
Percival gave him the mildest of smirks, "This will look quite unusual to passersby."
"I am not worried for dignity as this point, but rather speed."
The cat carefully situated herself up onto his back- rather awkwardly due to their armor- and the echidna stood up straighter again. "Are you certain you can sustain this, Gawain?"
"We will have to see, won't we...?"
The pace was greatly increased, though Gawain had a feeling he'd be feeling it in the morning. Still, he was a knight of the Round Table, and it was his task to serve the people of Camelot, and that included his fellow knights.
He hoped- prayed- that he would know the house when he saw it, that somehow Arthur would make it distinguishable amongst the others forged in straight lines along the road. Fortunately, even in the dull, fading light of an evening thunderstorm, he caught sight of one such distinguishable structure. "Percival."
"Hmm?"
"That one there... What does it remind you of?"
Percival lifted her head, and then was quiet a moment- probably trying to look through the downpour and her mask. "...It... Resembles the castletown's blacksmith."
"Whom Arthur often stated resembled someone he knew. Someone is present in the home accompanying it."
"Thank the spirits..." Percival whispered.
The rain soaked their garments, dripped down in their faces from their armor, but finally, they'd found sanctuary. Gawain made his way up the steps before bending down to let Percival off of his back and return to supporting both her and Lancelot, who remained unresponsive other than a soft whine as Gawain moved him.
Percival was the one to knock, both of Gawain's hands being full, and then they waited.
After a few moments, the door opened, and a familiar face appeared. A fox with golden fur and wide, blue eyes that looked back at them.
Before Gawain could utter a word, the fox turned back to the interior of the house.
"Erm... Sonic? You uh... You might want to come and see this-"