4Title: Vergessen Sei
Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: Action/Adventure, Mystery
Rating: 15+ for mild violence and language... not mild language of course.
Summary: After an accident, Kraehe seems to be much less of a problem, but no writer could leave their story without a proper antagonist, would they?
Disclaimer: Yeah, these things get annoying don't they? Well, I don't own Princess Tutu, but I do own a gymnastics uniform. It's from eight years ago, so I doubt it fits anymore, but at least it's mine!
Author's Note: Yes, I haven't written for a long, long time. I apologise if my style is sort of a bit flat and stiff. I have been forced to dumb down everything I wrote for the past four years so idiot high school teachers could understand it and it will take a while to shake the habit. Also, the titles are in German for anyone who wants to use an translator on them, and are there for a lack of a better title.
Akt 1: Unten Angeschlagen
Once upon a time, there were two friends who both cared for a prince. They were not too fond of each other, but not at odds either. One day, something happened and one of them decided to keep the prince all to themselves. This act angered the other who drew sword again them. At the same time, who also admired the prince and wished to protect him came into the fray who simply wanted both to stop. Through all the fighting, at least one voice claimed: "You are better to forget this accursed tale." And from the darkness, there was a chuckle. "What a splendid idea!"
Damn crows. They were everywhere. Fakir wondered where the hell Kraehe pulled them all out of. With as many as he slaughtered, he'd expect them to have gone locally extinct by now, but he wasn't that lucky. It seemed that with every one he killed, five replaced it! At least he didn't get blood all of his clothes. He was glad that the crows seemed to dissolve instead of spraying gore and black feathers everywhere when he cut through them. It was easier on his clothes, but he would have liked the satisfaction of knowing he was getting somewhere by counting their feathery little bodies spewed over the grass. Of course, it would have been more satisfying to see that crazy, obsessive bitch gone for good, or at least that was what Fakir thought.
'At least Tutu is keeping Kraehe distracted,' thought Fakir as he slashed through a few more of the aggravating feathered shit-machines. He still believe that blackbird bitch had sent that one bird to drop a bomb on his pizza after school. He glanced over at the other annoyance, Princess Tutu, who was just barely deflecting Kraehe's dagger-like throwing feathers with... a folding fan. You'd figure someone with magical powers would fight with something better than a fan. Of course, he'd had it used on him to block a sword, but there was a large difference there. A sword was one single blade. The projectiles Kraehe was using were dozens and stretched over a perimeter of at least ten feet. Quantity over quality in his opinion. Those damn feathers hurt like hell, though.
A scream. Fakir snapped his head to the side just in time to see a blur of pink, white and yellow come flying at him. He barely had time to put up his arms before Tutu careened into him and sent him flying back a few feet as a massive gust of wind bowled both of them over. Fakir skidded a bit in the grass, barely a foot short of the cobblestone path that snaked around the white, tiered pagoda they were beating each other around in the middle of the night. The knight glared up at the raven princess as she seemed to float there, cackling.
Mythos was kneeled at the back of the pagoda, clinging to one of the pillars like a scared child, having just come out of a daze and still trying to shake off the heavy curtain of sleep from his senses and was still disoriented, not knowing exactly where he was. He remembered walking somewhere with Rue and sitting down on a bench and... he dozed off he guessed. But now he was scared. Rue wasn't there, but Princess Tutu was. Tutu was kind to him and so was Fakir, but... Kraehe was there. The raven princess terrified him. If she wasn't so obsessive, manipulative, and downright sadistic, he would probably have felt sorry for her and given her a hug in spite of everything she did, but that wasn't exactly the case, as it would probably encourage her even more. Then again, it was probably impossible to encourage Princess Kraehe even more than she already was. He shuddered, but looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Mythos..."
"K-Kraehe!" Mythos stammered as he shrunk back from her, shutting his eyes tightly and shaking as a slave shies away from a whip. What could be seen as a hurt look crossed Kraehe's face as she pulled her hand away from him. He was terrified of her. It was the same as that day watching the practice for Sleeping Beauty when Mythos has first been given the shard of fear, how Fakir had to carry him outside as he cried and shook like some poor, beaten animal, except this time she was the cause. No... it was Princess Tutu's fault. Mythos had been fine before she had given him that shard. He was never terrified of her. The Prince never questioned her. He never looked at her like that before that bitch had come along.
"Kraehe, please..." speak of the feather devil, "Please stop, Kraehe." Princess Tutu stood there on point, hands clasped together, sparkling blue eyes pleading crimson red to stop.
"Stop giving Mythos back his heart."
"I... I can't do that-"
"Then get out of my sight!" Kraehe shrieked, another gust of wind startling the other princess, causing her to leap back. The raven lunged after her, more feathers appearing between her fingers as she tossed them like throwing knives at the swan. The other danced gracefully away, already half-expecting the black-clothed one to react unpleasantly. "And don't think I forgot about you, cowardly knight!" she shouted as she gusted a charging Fakir back with another blast of cold wind. Fakir braced himself against the gale, slowly forcing himself forward, or at least not allowing himself to get pushed back any farther. He glanced out of the corner of his eyes at Princess Tutu who seemed to be in about the same position. The wind probably was worse on her, being dressed like that and being so much lighter, but he had to admit, Kraehe won the gold for most skin showing.
"KRAEHE, STOP!"
The raven princess jerked her head back as Mythos stood back on the pagoda, eyes still glazed with terror. "Mythos? What are you-" With her concentration broken, the wind holding Fakir and Tutu abruptly stopped, sending both careening forward... or more correctly, Fakir just short of Kraehe, but sent the extra two feet by Tutu in his back which in turn sent the raven princess falling back onto the grass... or at least up to the shoulders on the grass and her head right into the marble steps of the pagoda, resulting in a sickening crack.
Everyone stopped silent. Fakir just stared in shock at the girl lying there in front of him, scarcely even noticing the other propped on his back, peeking her head just high enough to see over his. "Is she..." Tutu gasped.
"I don't think-" but he didn't get to finish as Kraehe groaned softly, rolling over onto her front, propped up on her elbows, half-lidded eyes unfocused at the ground. She looked up at Mythos who had ventured closer before another wind blew, causing everyone to recoil back. When it died down again moments later, she was gone, the only thing left was a few black feathers... and a thick, red stain glistening on the marble.
"Y-You think she'll be okay...?" Tutu ventured nervously.
"Probably back to being a pain in my ass in no time... just like you."
"Oh."
"Tutu?"
"Yes?"
"Get off my back."
"Yes Fakir!"