Chapter Text
Player moved away from the crowd. It was far too loud for their liking. They didn't really want to be here, but an invitation was an invitation. Turning that down would make them miss a chance they'd never get again.
They paused when they heard something crunch beneath their feet. Looking down, they saw a bunch of flowers. Player picked it up, examining the bouquet in the hands. Freshly picked, probably from a personal garden. They placed the flowers in their rightful place, at the foot of the statue.
The statue was of a bunch of figures, any unique features absent. They've passed here multiple times, but never truly looked at it.
An inscription glowed in the sunlight, mostly eligible. Beneath, multiple offerings and letters sat at the foot of the statue. As much as their curiosity grew, they surpressed it, that'd be beyond rude. Instead, they crouched down to read the plaque.
"In honor of the heroes who saved Robloxia..." - Roblox Corporation, 2012
They heard footsteps and looked up. A girl stood beside them, her brown hair waving in the light breeze. Her black hat, worn from years of exposure to the elements, casted a shadow over her face. Magenta eyes found Player, a few seconds passed before she spoke.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't think anyone else would be here..." Recognition gleamed in her eyes, before she turned away to continue observing the statue. "You looked like someone I knew."
Player motioned to the figures, she sighed, her amber eyes carrying a sense of longing.
"I knew them... let's just say that." She gave a soft smile.
There was silence, for a moment, they wondered if they should ask a few questions. Damn their curiosity, they wanted to know more, how did she know these people? Were they her friends? The questions went unsaid as they kept their mouth shut, opting to watch what she did instead. She pulled a few flowers from her bag, each of them was a different color. Slowly, she began to place them down at the foot of the marble statue with delicacy and care.
Her hand shook as she placed down the red one.
"It's nice that someone still thinks of the work they've done..." She commented. Player nodded, eyes locked on the flowers. The woman stood once she was finished.
"Are you going to the convention?" Player asked, trying to break the silence.
The woman shook her head, "Those kind of events aren't for me." She checked her watch, "It's about to start, you should go if you don't want to be late."
"What about you?"
"I've got places to be." She said simply, they nodded, not wanting to take up more of her time.
She bid them farewell, before walking off and disappearing into the crowd.
Her sister stood by the lamppost, a bag slung over her shoulder. She stood by her side for a moment. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Kyoko spoke.
"Was that...?" The question died in her throat, but Calypso answered regardless.
"No. It can't be." She shut the possibility down, they were dead. If there was a chance that they were alive, something would've happened by now, someone would've known. Plus, if it was them at the statue, she would've recognized them... or she thought she would. It's been over a decade.
Calypso huffed, "I'm getting tired of the noise here, you want to head to the hospital?"
"Yeah... I want to tell Brad about the new movies we watched."
"Which one?"
"Any, really." She frowned, "You think any of them will wake up anytime soon?"
"I don't know... it's been a long time..."
No one was supposed to hold the swords for that long, nor were the swords supposed to become one's only defense from death...
"I think they will." She smiled, "Come on, let's go, we can't leave them waiting, right?"
She shook her head, "Of course not."
Player lowered their wooden sword, watching as Cruel King collapsed, winded from the battle. Splinters on the handle pricked their skin, but they managed to ignore it. Blood dripped to the floor, a sound that caused them to shiver. The sight of the king was alarming, even with their sword merely being wood.
Blood ran down his face, staining the fur of his cape red. His eyelids fluttered as the king struggled to remain conscious. Player quickly pulled their coat off, wrapping it around him in an attempt to keep him warm. Cruel King stared at them, perplexed, what were they doing? They won, he should be dead.
Were they going to let him live to torture him with the fact that Blackrock's fall was inevitable?
No, that's impossible, he wasn't meant to survive. He was going to die without the dagger.
Were they trying to make his last moments more miserable? Rub it in that his kingdom was going to fall? This attempt to keep him from freezing was a ruse, surely.
"Your Majesty... I don't want to fight." Player tried to reason with the king, even if there were signs that it was far too late for that. "I just need the ice dagger- Shedletsky wanted me to collect the swords."
"Shedletsky?" Cruel King muttered, his eyes glazed over.
"Yeah..."
There was silence, before Cruel King broke it with a tired, amused laugh. Player blinked, what was so funny?! He was probably dying right now!
"How?"
Player blinked. Was he actually going to listen to them now that he might be standing at death's door?
"Your Majesty, I'll tell you later- you need to heal!" Player insisted, rummaging through their belongings to see if they had any remaining healing items. Their mouth formed a thin line when they realized that they used all of their healing items in the fight.
Shoot.
"I am fine, do not worry-" Player shook their head. He was bleeding! They looked around, trying to think of what to do. All of the guards were knocked out. Kitchen Wizard was... oh Telamon- Kitchen Wizard was dead because they screwed up simple instructions-
Don't think about it.
The king needs help.
They couldn't fail.
An idea sprang up, there were a few guards outside, maybe one of them would listen?
"Stay here, I'll be back with help." They ordered, despite Cruel King likely being decades older than them. The king stayed put, either from being too cold or simply being too weak to stand.
They ran through the hall, nearly stumbling when reaching the stairs. The citizens that their king so desperately wanted to save merely watched them with confused glances. In the lobby, the guards were still unconscious. Looking back on it... a chandelier might've been overkill...
They turned their attention to the trail of shattered glass. A chill reached them the moment they jumped out the window. Their shoes crunched the snow beneath their feet as they ran towards the ice cream stand. The guard running it- Derrick, they remembered- was currently giving strawberry ice cream to a citizen. Once the citizen walked away, they stepped forward.
"I need- doctor- in the- throne room-" They gasped out, each word taking a bit of energy. Derrick nodded without complaint, probably because he saw the blood. He ran off to get a competent guard. Player's legs finally gave out beneath them. They collapsed against the stand, their blood beginning to stain the snow red.
Vaguely, they heard a voice. Multiple of them. Before they slipped into unconscious, they saw a familiar figure being carried out. Another ran to them, putting a hand on their shoulder and yelling something they couldn't decipher.
When they awoke, they found themselves in a cell in the dungeons. The air was somewhat stuffy, but the place was clean. Shocking, considering what it was.
They expected this. They did break in after all.
Since they didn't want to be idle the entire time, they attempted to do something other than sit there and think.
They reached into their bag, which was somehow not taken from them, only to see that there was, again, nothing. Player frowned, reaching deeper so they finally reached the storage. How it was infinite was a burning question for them, but they shrugged it off. An infinite bag wasn't of much important right now.
Even then, all they had were a few worms and an ice storm. Guess that's where the chill in the room was coming from.
Irritation boiled in their gut, how could they have forgotten to pack more stuff? They could've gone to the Iron Cafe or Roadtown's inn! Sure, it'd mean travelling all the way back but they'd have something to fill their stomach!
Meanwhile, they didn't really have much of a use for the worms at the moment. Fishing? Maybe but where would they even find a good spot? The water in Blackrock was frozen over!
For a bit, they sat and pondered, trying to find an answer so they could find a use for the bait. Then, they remembered a potentially viable spot.
Vaguely, they recalled two people fishing by the lake in the meadows. It seemed like a nice place, with crisp, clean air and the smell of flowers unfiltered by the cold from the mountains.
They put a mental note to visit it later.
It felt like hours, sitting in that small cell. Eventually, a guard entered, his eyes scanning the room until he and Player were making eye contact. He walked up to their cell, examining them before letting out a sigh.
"The king wants to see you." The guard told them, shuffling through a ring of keys that all looked the same. What was it with Blackrock Kingdom and things looking the same? Maybe they had inscriptions that told what key the room was for, not that they had a way of knowing that.
He inserted one of the keys into the keyhole, turning it and opening the cell door.
"Don't try anything." The guard muttered to them. Player nodded, giving them a thumbs up to show they understood.
They were led through the castle, even managing to see areas that they didn't travel through. It didn't take them long before they reached the outside. The guard motioned for them to follow him into the lobby.
As they approached, Player paused. A familiar person stood at the castle gates eating a banana split.
"Ah! Player! There you are! Are you okay? I tried to help when you collapsed but the guards stopped me and you were bleeding so I thought-" Cluemer stopped his rambling when a guard gave him an irritated look. He chuckled, "We should probably talk about this later, eh?"
"Yeah... I'm fine, by the way." Player told him, hoping to clear his worries even though they didn't know each other that well. "I'll see you later, then?"
Cluemer nodded as one of the guards escorted them inside. Player looked over their shoulder to see their... acquaintance? Friend? Friend was pretty accurate they supposed... watching them leave, he gave a wave before returning to his meal.
The castle lobby was still being repaired. Glass shards were being swept by a citizen, who gave a polite nod towards the guards.
Stepping over rubble and traversing through the halls, they eventually reached the infirmary. Player entered first, followed by the guards.
The king was bedridden, his wounds sustained from the battle now treated. His icy blue eyes found Player, widening in surprise, like he didn't expect they'd actually be there. Immediately, he turned to the guards, who were standing there, preparing to pull out their swords.
"Leave us be." The king ordered, "They are not a threat anymore." The guards were hesitant, before finally relenting after Cruel King reassured them. They left the room swiftly. As they did, nervous glances were cast Player's way.
It's fine. They were used to it.
Now that the guards were gone, it was just them and the king.
They couldn't look at him, they almost killed him. Even if he had no ounce of care for his wellbeing, he was still dying. It was concerning how he denied their help.
It reminded them of themselves in a way.
The king shifted, sitting up with a tired, warm expression. Why was he looking at them like that?
Now that they could see him, they were taken aback by the extent of their battle. While they were injured, yes, it wasn't too much. All it took was a cup of hot chocolate to melt the cold that lingered. The wounds would take a bit to heal, especially after they fell unconscious, but they were fine... for the most part.
Cruel King on the other hand, had the lower half of his left arm wrapped in bandages. The dressing was already beginning to freeze over. With him no longer in any royal attire and instead in a simple shirt and pants, it was easier to see the damage their sword inflicted. They didn't want to see it, but they let their gaze linger anyway. Seeing the dried blood reinforced the knowledge that they did this.
Everyone else they had come across was merely knocked out with no major injuries. It was just a few cuts and bruises, never heavy bleeding. During their fight with the King, they became desperate the moment they ran out of items. They swung... and swung...
"Child?" Player flinched, hands going for their sword. Cruel King held his hands up, "At ease, there is no danger that'll come to you. I just want to talk."
Talk. He just wanted to talk... they could do that.
A chill settled in the room, a reminder of what sat at his bedside.
The Ice Dagger.
Player nearly grabbed it, their hand freezing up when Cruel King's gloved hand grasped it first. It glowed in his hold, almost obsessively. With a sigh, he set the dagger in his lap.
The cold in the air only brought them back to the fight. All they saw in front of them was someone rumored to bring harm to those around them. It was the opposite... it always was the opposite.
Every strike from the Ice Dagger sent a chill down their spine. Their hearing muffled to whatever the King was shouting. It hurt... a lot.
"I appreciate it." Player jumped, the voice of the king alerted them to where they stood. Right. They were in Blackrock's infirmary, not in the throne room. "Your efforts to try and heal me, you're a good soul, young one."
The hero couldn't bring themselves to refute his words. Let him believe what he says.
"Ah, my apologies, we should've done this earlier." Player blinked, Cruel King gave a soft smile unfitting of his title, "Your name, child. We have never properly introduced each other due to my... poor state of mind."
"Player..." They hesitated for a moment, but he seemed nice enough.
"Player." He hummed to himself, as if trying to commit the name to memory. "I'm sorry that we couldn't talk about this beforehand, Player... I was acting irrationally."
Player nodded, they didn't fully trust him, considering he tried to kill them, but it was a start.
According to the citizens, he was a nice guy... they'd take their word for it.
"Is it true, child?" Player tilted their head, "You with Shedletsky's quest. Surely, he wouldn't send someone out unprepared like that."
Player didn't see anything odd with that. The admin was injured for Telamon's sake! They were plenty capable of collecting these swords, they didn't need preparation!
"It's... true."
They swiftly recapped their journey so far. Cruel King listened quietly, only giving nods to show that he was paying attention. Once they reached the end, Cruel King hummed to himself, looking down at the dagger in his lap.
"If Shedletsky asked you, then I suppose I should've assisted rather than jump to conclusions..." Cruel King smiled, "You've earned it, child."
A searing cold overwhelmed their senses, the source of which was forced into their hand with such haste that it made Player flinch. Forcing their eyes open in spite of the pain radiating from the cold, they saw the Ice Dagger in their hand. Cracks littered the surface of it, mixed with small icicles that pricked their hand.
"I wouldn't recommend holding it for long." Their gaze was torn from the dagger as they were reminded of Cruel King's presence.
Quickly, they set the dagger in their bag. One out of seven. The others shouldn't be too difficult at this rate. Player checked their wallet, they could purchase more supplies and be at the Roblox HQ by tomorrow morning.
"Now, do rest. I'll arrange a better room for you." Player blinked, Cruel King paused, "Is something wrong?"
The kid merely shook their head, eyes shifting to stare at something else.
Cruel King frowned, was something troubling them? Did they feel guilt over hurting him? It was his fault the fight started...
Those damned swords... their voices and their visions...
The wooden sword that hung on their belt caught his eye. Why did they not have a proper sword? Scratch that, they didn't even have any training! The way they swung their sword wildly, merely aiming to do damage instead of planning during their turn...
Did Shedletsky even care about their wellbeing when he sent them to get the swords?
Cruel King crushed his suspicions, but even then, they continued to fester within his gut. Why would Shedletsky send a young one to collect the swords without any preparation?
He wouldn't. That wasn't something he'd do.
"You're still injured." He stated, "You are in no state to be leaving to get the next sword. Shedletsky is a patient man, he can wait a little longer."
Thankfully, they finally relented and nodded. Cruel King smiled.
"Good. I'll get someone to arrange a guest room for you." They nodded again and left without another word.
It was still cold... perhaps, it'd forever be that way for the rest of his days. If it was, he'd be okay with that. The kid was alive, they both were. The battle didn't end with either of them dead on the floor. Now, he needed to create a plan moving forward. Player was going to be on a long journey, considering how scattered the swords were. Maybe, if they accepted, he could aid them in someway.
That... was something to worry about in the future, as much as it pained him to say it.
First things first, before everything else, he needed to tell Shedletsky about the situation.
Cruel King took a seat at his desk, pulling a blank paper from the stack.
Slowly, he made progress on it, even with his failure to word it correctly. The candle on the desk flickered, the heat reaching him and enveloping him. It was still cold, less so, but it provided miniscule comfort.
Without the voices in his head, their chatter breaking any concentration he had, it was much easier to write. He couldn't help but feel worry for the child sleeping in the adjacent room. Sure, they weren't a teenager, but he was still older than them.
Their eyes... they were too troubled... too quick to flick at any signal of danger.
Something one would learn to survive.
He gripped the quill tighter.
This child, they didn't want to fight him, they tried everything but he refused to listen. His guards weren't dead, just unconscious. They... they were a good soul.
So, the thought of them seeming surprised by him allowing them to stay in the castle... it was alarming.
Why did they act like they didn't deserve care?
He's seen a lot of things, especially since he dealt with these sorts of situations before... even then, it still hurt the same.
He'd need to ask them about it later- if they wanted to talk about it.
Cruel King let his thoughts drift after that, trying to think of anything else now that the voices were gone. His mind was quiet for the first time in years. He should be happy.
Yet, the heavy feeling in his chest still refused to disappear.
Whether it'd be the fate of his kingdom, or the fate of the young one he'd only known for a day... he didn't know.
That scared him most of all.
His hand seemed to be on autopilot, trying to get something down before he sunk back into a paranoid spiral.
Eventually, he managed to finish writing the letter.
It was short, but it got the job done.
Cruel King left the room, his legs still shaking due to his weakened state. He wasn't fully healed still, some of his body still protested when he stood. The doctors recommended bedrest, but as much as it sounded nice, he had things to do. An entire kingdom was under his care and he had only harmed them by taking the sword that he was supposed to guard. He's tried to work on reversing much of the stuff he put in place during that time, like the curfew.
His people didn't hate him, he didn't understand why.
Maybe it was for the best.
Wandering through the halls felt liberating in a way. After being confined to both the throne room and his bedroom, getting the chance to walk around now that his paranoia has lessened was... it was nice. He didn't know how much the dagger had affected him until that moment.
He didn't believe their whispers at first, after protecting it for decades, he thought he knew what it was capable of. How wrong he was...
Out of everything, he expected the voices, the changes to him physically and mentally... he didn't expect the visions.
The voices showed him what the future would bring. Someone would infiltrate his castle during his reign and leave Blackrock Kingdom a ruin, faded with time like everything else. He became paranoid, lashing out at people who simply wanted to help him. Kitchen Wizard was the only one who he felt he could trust once he banished his most loyal knight...
Now, Kitchen Wizard was missing.
That was another thing he needed to talk to Player about.
Either way, even if they forgave him, he still hurt them. He needed to issue a formal apology still, mostly for his own peace of mind. The issue wasn't getting it out, it was whether he'd be truly forgiven by everyone around Blackrock.
Heck, he wasn't sure if Monty would accept the apology, they weren't close, even if he was at him and Kamilla's wedding. Monty had tried once, to break the daggers hold on his mind, it failed. He didn't try again after that, sticking to his town while the weather grew colder.
It took him nearly dying to realize that he messed up. The experience still lingered in the back of his mind, cold and foreboding.
It was over now. Everything would be fine.
As long as no one was seriously harmed. He was still shocked, but greatly relieved that the chandelier hadn't killed anyone.
Speaking of the chandelier, there was the whole matter of Player trashing the castle. It could be fixed, how quickly was another question entirely. As for the guards, injuries were treated swiftly, leaving only bruises and small cuts. People were already working on the cleanup process though, so it shouldn't take too long.
Eventually, he reached the dining room and went over to where the messengers sat. He ignored how the whole room went silent at his entrance, he'd deal with that later on.
He handed the sealed letter to one of the messengers. "Please do send this to Shedletsky." She nodded, beginning to make her way out before he stopped her, "One more thing, do tell Mayor Monty that I'll be allowing passage to Blackrock again, since I assume you'll be passing through. Tell him to contact me so we can arrange a meeting as well."
The messenger gave a thumbs up and scurried off.
An employee entered the room, a letter gripped tightly in their hand. "From the King of Blackrock." They said simply, opening the letter and setting it on the desk.
Surely enough, it was his trusted guardian. The seal of Blackrock Kingdom gleamed in the buzzing, bright lights.
His eyes scanned the words.
Greetings, Shedletsky. I know it's been a while since we've last talked, with both of our lives growing busier. First... and I'm sure the information you'll be most joyous about: Player is safe. They have obtained the Ice Dagger... though our first interaction was less than pleasant. If requested, I will tell you later, there is far too much to discuss that can't be done with a single paper.
Second. Player will be staying at Blackrock Kingdom for the time being. They are far too injured to return to the HQ. I'm sure you understand. I've pondered this for the past few hours and have decided it is the best option. If you need anything, send a message.
I wish you a swift recovery, friend.
He hummed, so that's why they weren't back yet.
"Thank you. Can you draft up a response... given my... unfortunate circumstances?" He lifted a hand, covered in bandages like the rest of his body. The employee nodded, taking the letter and exiting the room.
This would take a lot longer than he thought... not that he expected it to take a mere month. Things like this took time and expertise.
He was glad the kiddo was okay, though. If they died while grabbing the first sword, he wasn't sure if he could forgive himself.
Shedletsky leaned back in his wheelchair, wincing at the pain in his side.
It's fine. This was fine. He'd adapt. That's what he was good at.
It was just a change in plans, what could go wrong?