badger1matt-blog - Tumblr blog

badger1matt-blog · 9 years

Text

GEOFF NOOOOOOOO!!!!

Fallen Kingdom (2/?)

I decided to write my own Achievement Hunter Minecraft Kings!AU. I drew a lot of inspiration from Rooferfeef’s Kings as well as my own vision. A lot of inspiration from the 8tracks list I made too.

A/N: I had a flurry of adrenaline and splattered it into words for the next chapter. Listened to Captain Sparkelz “Fallen Kingdom” Quite a bit for this one. Can you guess why?

CHARACTER DEATHS

Chapter 1

—

Michael, The Next King, woke to the smell of ash in the dead of night.

As he sat up in bed, he was met with a cloud of smoke that hovered in the air, thick and billowing through his open window. A faint orange glow danced around the edges of the shadows in his room.

Next he heard the screams. The wails and cries of the people of Achievement Kingdom far down below the castle. The Next King leaped from his bed, put on his glasses, and ran to the window. ignoring the smoke, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his nightie, he saw the nightmare that was before him.

The city was burning. His father’s kingdom was being overrun by creatures that had been ran out years before the Next King was even born. They were just fairy tales to him. Yet here they were, killing villagers, fighting the guards, and laying waste to his home.

The Next King had to force himself away from the window, too horrified to look any longer, though he knew he had to keep a leveled head. He ran to Gavin, The Heir of the Lost, in his bed. He shook the younger boy awake.

“Get up! Get up! The city is on fire, Gavin!” Michael yelled as loud as his little 5 year old lungs could manage.

The Heir rose from his pillow, rubbing his eyes, whining in his high pitched squeal of a voice. “No Micoo!” The tiny 3 year old had developed a strange accent, a speech impediment, that no one could place. The Next King rolled his eyes and yanked his younger brother from his bed and onto the floor. Only then did Gavin fully awake to see that what Michael had said was true. He gasped and pointed to the window, “Fire!” he squealed.

“C'mon, we gotta get Ray, and find Mom and Dad,” Michael pulled the Heir to his feet and toted him along to their youngest brother, Ray the Rose King, who slept peacefully in his crib. Michael climbed up the little steps so he could reach in and scoop the 1 year old out. He carefully wraps the Rose King up in his blankets, just like Mother did, and holds him tightly in his arms. “Take hold of my arm, Gavin, and don’t let go.” The Next King was rather resourceful for a toddler. Something he got from his Father most likely.

The halls of the castle were filled with soldiers, guards, servants, and hand maidens rushing around. Their voices loud and desperate. No one had been prepared for an attack such as this. Everybody had been caught off-guard. The Next King weaved through the bustling crowds with his brother in tow, while the Rose King slept throughout all of noise. It didn’t seem like whatever was outside had breached the castle just yet. Survivors from the village had begun to pour into the lower levels, seeking refuge. Villagers screamed and cried for their lost loved ones, hoping they’ll find them among the living… or the dead.

The Next King eventually made it to the throne room, where the King and Queen ran about, giving out orders and helping the people. The First King was talking with his soldiers while the Queen and her maidens sought to look after the wounded. Queen Griffon saw her three babies and rushed to them immediately.

“Michael, it’s not safe, you need to get to the safe room with your brothers!” She cried, gripping his shoulders tightly, the fear apparent in her eyes.

Michael had to shout to be heard above all the people, “No, I want to help Daddy fight!”

“Fight too!” Gavin chimed in.

Ray snored.

The Queen should have known better than to think that this would be an easy task. “Michael, you don’t understand. This isn’t play time. Daddy-” But the Next King didn’t hear anything after that. His eyes had wandered to the back of the room, where the First King stood behind his throne, staring at The Impossible Obsidian Armor.

The Next King had always loved looking at the armor. The First King had even let him try on the helmet once, though it was far too heavy, and much too big. When he was told of the story that his father had defeated the Mad King wearing that very armor, it made his heart swell with pride, and his mind with courage. He had hoped one day that the First King would pass down that armor and sword to him.

Instead, Michael watched as the First King tore the armor down from its display, and hung up his crown on his throne. Geoff lowered the helmet to his head as his servants helped him into the blackish purple gear. He yanked his sword out of its sheath and inspected it, the shiny stone as perfect as ever.

It was only then did the Next King put it together. His mouth fell open and the words tumbled out in a whisper. “The Mad King is back…”

The Queen had to bite her lip to hold back her tears as she saw followed her son’s gaze to her husband. She stared longingly at him, wishing to the divines that this was all a dream, and that it wasn’t really happening. She had hoped that armor would stay up on its display forever. Griffon looked back at Michael and shook him slightly to get his attention.

“You need to hide!” With the Rose King still in the Next King’s arm, she scooped him up in one arm, and Gavin in the other. She ran back to the First King with the children.

The First King looked on at his family, a pain tugging at his heart, knowing there was a good chance he’d never see these boys again. Fully geared up and sword placed back in its sheath upon his backside, he closed the gap between him and his family. Geoff smiled sadly as he cupped Griffon’s cheek before looking down upon his eldest son. He laid a hand upon his small shoulder and spoke to him quite seriously.

“Listen to me, Michael. The world is about to get really scary. But you’re going to be strong, aren’t you?” Geoff smiled when his son nodded obediently before continuing, “That’s why you’re going to do everything that I tell you to do.”

A loud explosion burst through the main doors to the castle. It shook the entire room, sending stone and dust to rain down on their heads. Smoke poured into the chambers as well as the shrieks of the survivors that had been too close to the blast. Everyone in the throne room looked to the doors that lead to that hall. All held their breath, everything silent except for the moans of the pained. Several soldiers ran to the door to keep it barricaded.

Nothing can keep out darkness.

Black shadowy smoke seeped through the cracks of the wooden doors. It consumed the soldiers, leaving nothing but their armor and bones. The darkness blew the doors right off their hinges, letting the light of the flames from outside cast a silhouette over the single figure standing in the doorways. The shadows danced around it, afraid yet obedient, shielding the figure from any harm that may come to it.

The First King pushed his wife and children behind his throne for shelter. He kept dead eye contact with the Next King as he spoke in a whispered rush. “You will take your brothers down the servants hall. At the end is that silly portrait of a Mooshroom that you and Gavin drew a mustache on. Remember that?” Geoff forces a smile for Michael’s benefit, “Press on the middle mushroom on its back. It will open up to a secret passage. Go in and let it close behind you. There’s a satchel of supplies waiting there. Follow the passage to the stables, take the first horse you see, and run. Put as much distance between you and this city, understand? You look after your brothers and mother.”

“But Dad-” Michael had begun to protest, but the First King had left from behind the throne, walking to the front.

Geoff stood proudly, tall and stiff, staring down the figure just across the room.

“Ryan.” The First King’s voice was gruff, angry, and maybe even a bit hurt.

The figure walked forward, slowly, the shadows retreating enough for everyone in the room to see his face. His crooked and black crown sat tilted upon his head, his kilted robs tight to his body, leather boots stepped heavy against the floor. The darkness sprawled out across the floor, latching on to anyone close enough, destroying their lives in the same fashion as the soldiers at the door until no one but the royal family was left.

The Mad King chuckled softly. “I haven’t heard that name in quite a while… How dare you use it so lightly?”

Michael peeked his head around the side of the throne to watch the showdown between his father and his arch enemy. The Next King was a little shocked when he saw the Mad King for the first time. He looked so normal compared to his imagination. It was almost a little disappointing. The Heir crawled under Michael to get a look as well. He had no idea the severity of the situation and merely saw it as a game. The Next King made sure to keep a tight grip on the back of his younger brother’s nightshirt so he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Thanks for keeping the kingdom warm for me, Geoff, but I’d like it back now. It’s far too… happy.” The Mad King spoke with an eerie smile. He was half way across the room now, the gap slowly closing between him and the First King. His fingers twitched nervously, black magic dancing around them, ready to strike at any sudden movement. The First King stood his ground solidly however.

“Not a chance, Ryan…” The First King practically growled out the last bit. He had to hold back a smirk when he visibly saw the Mad King twitch with annoyance.

“Stop saying that name. There is no Ryan anymore.” Ryan started to speed up his pace, “Only the Mad King remains.”

The First King laughed, “That title holds no power anymore. Ryan.”

The Mad King let out a crazed yell, the dark magic in his hands fizzled as he raised them, transforming itself into a shadow whip. He cracked it harshly against the ground as he ran the rest of the way up to the First King. “THERE IS NO RYAN!!!”

Geoff drew his sword just in time to catch the whip, watching as it curled around the blade, the two materials colliding caused sparks to fly. The First King held his stance as he looked back to the throne, shouting, “GO NOW!”

The Queen wrapped her arms around the children and guided them to the entrance to the servants quarters, using her body as a shield. The Mad King started to laugh again as another whip appeared in his free hand. He cracked in the direction of the Queen, the magic growing and reaching out, and wrapped itself around her neck. He yanked harshly, prying her away from the children, dragging her to him as he laughed and laughed and laughed…

“MOTHER!!” The Next King called out, and began to race back towards her.

“NO!” She called out, causing him to halt in his tracks, “GO! RUN!” It was all she could get out before the Mad King yanked on the magic whip once more, the shadows slicing into her throat. Crimson red spilled from the shadows and pooled to the floor.

The Queen was dead.

The First King screamed as he watched his wife’s limp body crumple to the floor, The Mad King turning both whips into swords. He swung both blades at Geoff, who deflected them with his own blade. More sparks rained down on the two, the First King’s enraged face lit up by them. The faces of the two Kings were only inches apart from each other.

“I’m going to enjoy letting your children see your demise…” The Mad King whispered.

The First King’s mind began to reel. Should he stay and fight for his people? Or run and protect his children? Both were equally important to him. Griffon would have known… With a loud yell, Geoff threw the Mad King off balance, giving himself enough time to run to his children. “Hold Ray tight!” He said as he picked Michael up, Gavin in the other arm, and ran.

The Mad King growled, “Where the fuck are you going, Geoff?! I WANT TO PLAY.” He lurched forward, swords dragging along the stone floor as he ran. “What kind of King abandons his subjects?!” The First King slammed the door shut and locked it, giving them a small amount of time to run.

- - -

Michael could hardly think as their father ran along the dark hallway with he and his brothers. It was difficult for a child so small to process so much death and destruction. Blissful Gavin still thought it a game as he excitedly bounced around in his fathers arms. The Rose King, amazingly, was still fast asleep against the First King.

“Shit!” The First King growled as he saw that the way to the servants hall was hopelessly on fire. The only other place the hall they were currently in went was to the sorcerer’s tower. They couldn’t go back, for the Mad King was just steps behind them. Geoff could hear the scraping of his swords against the stone floor still. In a panic, he began the climb up the stairs to the top of the tower, unable to go anywhere else.

At the top of the tower, there was another door the First King was able to close and lock behind them, giving him a few minutes more to figure out a plan. He stowed the kids away in the far end of the tower, inside a small cupboard, which he closed and barricaded with a nearby table he flipped. He ignored Michael’s pleas, knowing that it was for the best.

The Next King passed sleeping Ray to Gavin. He kicked and fought against the barricade his father had put between him and them. He knew what was going to happen and he wasn’t going to let Dad die like Mom. He pounded his little fists against the backside of the cupboard door. Just as he was able to get it open a crack, he heard the door to the towers stairs burst open, followed by maniacal laughter.

The First King drew his sword once more and took a defensive stance.

“You’ve become weak, Geoff,” The Mad King taunted as he, once more, threw himself forward at the First King. Their blackened blades crossed once more, “Where I have grown stronger… You cast me out into the wastelands where there was nothing but darkness and shadows… I fed on it and mastered it. Your undoing of me will be your end.”

“Go to hell…” The First King growled. And with that, the Mad King brought down one of his swords and stabbed it right through an exposed portion of Geoff’s neck. Michael had to hold his hands over his mouth to keep himself from screaming as he watched his father’s blood drip down on his perfect black armor…

“That’s the plan.” The Mad King laughed as he withdrew his sword. The First King stumbled instead of dropping to the floor. He stumbled backwards to a window’s ledge. The Mad King watched, amused by his attempts to fight for life. He merely walked up to the First King, and with a light push against his chest, sent him tumbling out of the window and down to the hard earth below. The Mad King watched gleefully as the First King made contact with ground.

The Next King could hardly figure out how to react as the table in front of the cupboard was thrown across the room, the doors flying open. Ray woke with a scream as Gavin and Michael were yanked from their hiding place by the backs of their nightshirts, leaving the crying little bundle behind. It was only then did the Heir finally begin to fear the man before them. He realized it was no longer a game.

Michael thrashed violently against the Mad King’s hold, kicking and screaming, becoming wild like an animal. “GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!” He cried. The Mad King only released him when Michael bit his wrist deeply, breaking the skin.

“LITTLE BRAT!” The Mad King threw the Heir behind him, causing the young one to smack the back of his head against the wall, and fall unconscious. “GET BACK HERE.”

The Next King scooped up his crying baby brother and ran to the door. He had no time to rouse Gavin and save him. He had to run as fast as his legs could carry him. Skipping two steps at a time, he jumped down the tower steps, back down into the hallway and into the now burning throne room. Monsters of all kinds were flooding into through the castle doors. Michael had to double back to the hall he had just come from. His only chance was to navigate through the burning servants quarters to find the hidden passage.

Just as he ducked into the charred hall, Michael heard the distinct sound of the Mad King’s swords, scraping and thudding against the steps of the sorcerer’s tower. The Next King tucked his bundled brother against his chest and ran through the wild flames, dodging them to the best of his abilities. The nipped and burned at his feet and legs, but he couldn’t stop. To stop would mean to die. Fortunately, the hallway wasn’t very long, and they were soon staring at the blackened frame of what was once the mooshroom painting. Michael passed through, remembered to pick up the little satchel his father had mentioned, and ran down the unburnt passage way.

Once he reached the stables, it wasn’t hard for the Next King to pick a horse. There was only one left. It was a tiny thing, which was probably why it was left by the soldiers. It had a bit, a harness, but no saddle. There was no time left, Michael had to go now. The little prince climbed up (with the aid of a step ladder) the little horse, gripped the reins and the Rose King tightly, and kicked off.

Smoke clogged his vision, fire burned at his cheeks, and bodies of the dead littered the streets beneath the Next King. Arrows whizzed passed and zombie groans pierced his ears. Loud hisses and explosions erupted all around him as Creepers detonated. Michael urged the horse on as Ray cried against his shoulder. The world flew by, familiar streets now ghosts, charred by fire and spoiled in blood.

Soon, they were clear of the city, and speeding through the surrounding forest. The night made the woods seem that much darker and terrifying. Yet Michael knew the way like the back of his hand. The forest was no stranger to him, even in the dark. He lead the horse through expertly, focused on his fathers words playing over and over in his head.

“…Put as much distance between you and this city, understand? You look after your brothers and mother…”

“Mother…” Michael whined.

It was only then did the Next King finally allow himself to cry. His heart was breaking, his fear was multiplying, and his mind was racing.

What was he going to do? Where would he go? How long would they survive? The Next King did not know.

48 notes · View notes