Chapter Text
Sonic doesn’t try to make a habit of falling through the sky into lands unknown to him with two chilidogs. It’s unpleasant, first of all, and secondly, it’s often not through his own choice. Unfortunately for him, that seems to be exactly what he does today. He lands face-first onto the ground, and has only seconds to catch one of his chilidogs. He frowns, irritation starting to bubble in his chest and he gets ready to antagonize whoever tried to ruin his lunch. That irritation is immediately replaced by confusion at the strange land before him.
“Hey, where am I?” He wonders aloud. Lucky him, he doesn’t have to wonder long when a random hooded girl apologizes and gestures to her situation. Even more lucky, he has something to take his irritation out on in the form of the monstrous armored creatures behind her. Then he hears the sound of hooves on gravel, and turns his head. What he sees seems to be the general of this antagonistic group of creatures. They’re armored in something grand and king-like, but their face is shrouded save for their bright eyes. Their horse seems just as grand, though a bit intimidating. Typical of these types, truly.
Handling the nobodies takes less than a second, and he even got to eat one of his chilidogs too! Score! The armored figure watches, and Sonic can practically feel their judgemental stare. He lets the show of his power settle for a minute, a silent question in the air that asks if they really wanna do this after seeing him move faster than comprehension. Instead of running away, or explaining more, the armored entity meets his challenge with a steady gaze. He gets a better look at the figure. They’re a hedgehog, that’s for sure. Their quills are hidden under the metal that protects them, but that’s the only thing recognizable about them. Everything else is hidden under grand metal plates. Sonic hopes it’s not another look-a-like.
Sonic gets ready to run, then launches at the armored hedgehog.
Or, tries to launch. Turns out, you can’t really launch anywhere when a strangely strong girl is holding you in place. His confusion only grows as she stabs what looks like a staff into the ground and says an incantation. The winds begin to pick up around them, and thanks to how dazed he was, he loses his chilidog in the process. She holds firm on him, though, as he struggles in her grasp to try and catch it before it hits the floor.
They’re gone before he can even try.
—
As it turns out, the person who summoned him is apparently named Merlina the Wizard. Sonic guesses he was brought to some kind of Camelot dimension where Arthurian Legend became real. Man, he wishes he paid attention more to when Tails had a phase about this stuff, maybe he’d be able to connect some more dots. All he has, however, is that Merlina brought him to help her with the fact King Arthur is evil. On top of that, he also has to use a special sword to do it. Worse? King Arthur’s immortal. When Nimue gave Excalibur to Arthur, the scabbard of the sword corrupted him with its power of eternal life. So, actually, nothing out of the ordinary. He’ll probably get home by dinner given how fast he can handle it. First things first though, grab the special sword.
He and Merlina stare at the special sword in question—the sword named Caliburn. It’s been stabbed into the stone, though it looks more like it’s been seated upon its own throne. At the base of the tree’s roots, on top of a boulder. It looks like something from a fairytale movie that Sonic would watch. Only way more real, more ethereal feeling. On top of it, there’s a strange longing inside him that calls for the sword. Like it’s meant to be in his grasp, to be his weapon. Weird, since Sonic’s never shown much interest in weapons to begin with. First time for everything, though.
It’s not hard to jump up onto the boulder, and not at all hard to grip the hilt either. What is hard however, is convincing himself to pull it out of the stone. Whatever longing he was feeling has quickly turned into the feeling of something wrong. There’s a dread that makes his quills prickle and stand up, as though the sword mistook him for someone else. Merlina, however, mistakes the motivations behind his hesitation as she calls up to him.
“Are you ready?” She asks.
“Ready for what?” He replies.
“If you remove that sword and defeat King Arthur with it… You shall forever be the worst of knights, slayer of kings.” Her words sound grave, but all Sonic can think is that he’s been there, done that. You go against one government official, you go against all of them. He wisely chooses not to say that, and instead responds with:
“Guess I can’t be the hero every time!” He swallows down that horrible feeling and pulls upwards on the hilt with both his hands. The blade produces a radiant light, one that has Sonic squeezing his eyes closed. He ignores the metal scraping against the rock as he lifts Caliburn. As the sword finally begins to exit the stone, something forces its way into his mind.
—
“Morgan!” Sonic runs to catch his little brother. “Father said not to climb trees that high!”
“But I was curious about the birds,” Morgan says. “The babies are old enough, and I wanted to see how they learned to fly.”
“With their wings, duh!” Sonic puts Morgan down on the ground and makes a flapping motion with his hand. The little fox isn’t so pleased with the answer, though. He pouts and stares at the tree branches he nearly fell off just moments prior. “No, don’t tell me you’re thinking about climbing it again?”
“Grandfather said that to satisfy curiosity, you must take risks.” Morgan grins at Sonic. “This is a curiosity I wish to satisfy.”
“You and your curiosities.” Sonic shakes his head fondly. They’ve been through this conversation a hundred times. “Let’s do this: I’ll climb the tree and tell you how the birds fly so you don’t break your tails again this year.”
“Deal!” Morgan practically vibrates with excitement, and that’s Sonic’s cue to climb the tree. Hours later, father will find them and scold Sonic for climbing so high. Morgan’s guilt will try to make an explanation, but Sonic will speak over Morgan and give his own version of the events. The punishment that follows is worth getting to satisfy Morgan’s curiosity.
—
Sonic’s back in the present near immediately, and about to drop Caliburn from the shock of what just happened. It’s gone as fast as it came, but the lingering feelings of warmth, love, and happiness have left imprints in his chest. What sticks with him, however, is how both familiar and wrong those imprints feel. Merlina stares at him with barely concealed worry, and Sonic’s about to say something to reassure her when someone else speaks instead.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Sonic looks in the direction the voice came from, and nearly drops Caliburn again. This time for a far more understandable reason: the sword has sprouted eyes and a mouth. It’s as weird as you’d think it is. “You’re the chosen one? You’re but a squire!”
“Oh yeah? Says you.” Sonic immediately shoots back through his shock. Part of him immediately desires to stick this thing in the stone again and go fight King Arthur with nothing but his fists. That usually works out for all his other encounters with great evils. However, something keeps Caliburn in his grip.
“The sword has a mind of its own,” Merlina explains. Sonic bites back a sarcastic response. “It selects its own bearer.”
“It sure has a pretty smart mouth for a sword,” Sonic says.
“Hm!” Caliburn glares. “You’re quite uncouth as well, knave! Under my tutelage, you will be trained until worthy!”
Sonic wants to give a response, something to point out how many big words this sword wants to use to sound smart. However, the thundering of hooves takes his attention. In the sky, silent and observant, is Arthur on his horse. Sonic smiles, but it’s sharp on his face.
“Looks like you’ll get to work your magic then, Professor.” He readies himself. Something guides Sonic to hold Caliburn correctly, minor corrections made to his stance and grip. He knows it’s not himself, and he wonders if Caliburn has a particular ability that allows the sword to guide him. If so, he’s thankful for the edge.
Arthur doesn’t even bother stepping down from his horse, but he does wield a mighty sword that’s twice his size. Merlina flinches away as he raises it, and Sonic moves fast as he swings downwards. A slash of energy rips free from the sword on its downward swing and breaks into the ground. It hits Sonic’s sword instead, and Caliburn strains with the effort it takes to dispel what Sonic blocked from the blade. Arthur doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed. Though, Sonic would say he doesn’t look much of anything.
“Quick, rush at him and slash!” Caliburn’s instructions were already Sonic’s plan, so he follows them without question. He corrects his grip before he slashes all the way, allowing the momentum to crash Caliburn down and onto Arthur. It’s blocked with a loud TWANG!, and Sonic can see Arthur’s eyes up close. Though the rest of his face is still shrouded by the helmet, Sonic can see clouded eyes staring at him with fury. It is then that Sonic realizes that despite Arthur’s silent and cool exterior, he is livid under that armor. He wonders if this is his fastest record of pissing off a government official.
The fight after that, though, continues in a cycle. Sonic swings, Arthur parries. Arthur swings, Sonic parries. It’s repeated so much that Sonic can correct himself before Caliburn does it for him this time, the motions are almost rhythmic. Few times do they actually make any kind of contact with each other, and neither of them do much damage. He thinks he can almost understand why swordfighters love their blades, but he’d much prefer his own fights be more fast-paced and not repetitive. All he really has to do now is wear Arthur out, but given how stoic the king seems to be, it may be a while before such a thing happens.
Or… not? Strangely, Arthur begins to back off. He breathes heavily, as though Sonic did wear him out, and raises his sword once more. Sonic raises Caliburn to block as well, but the attack isn’t aimed at him. Instead, the energy dispels into the ground and kicks up dust. Sonic coughs at the sudden attack on his lungs, and when it all settles, Arthur is gone. He frowns.
“He didn’t even think you were worth finishing off!” Caliburn sounds offended at such a prospect. Sonic drops Caliburn immediately.
“That’d be your fault then,” Sonic doesn’t even blink at the fact Caliburn is seemingly standing on his own blade. “You’re supposed to be my teacher!”
“A good mentor can’t fix a poor apprentice.” Caliburn huffs. Sonic rolls his eyes.
“Thank goodness you’re okay!” Merlina runs up to them, seemingly unbothered by Caliburn’s current predicament. “Even with the mighty Caliburn as your blade, the King’s scabbard still renders him immortal. You would not have beaten him in a duel such as that one.”
“Then what do we do?” Sonic asks.
“We must ask the preceding owner of the scabbard how to hinder its power,” Caliburn responds.
“And who would that be?” Sonic turns his head to Caliburn.
“Nimue,” Merlina answers first. “The lady of the lake.”
“Huh.” Sonic supposes that makes sense, and he feels a little slow for not putting it together immediately. Didn’t Merlina explain that Nimue gave Arthur the sword anyway? Of course that’d include the scabbard. Not his brightest moment, admittedly. Even worse that Caliburn just witnessed it. “What’re we waiting for? Let’s go pay her a visit.”
“I fear it won’t be as simple as that,” Caliburn says. Sonic grabs Caliburn by the hilt to make travel faster.
“What do you mean?” He’s getting really tired of asking questions like this.
“You shall see, my young knave.”
“Stop calling me ‘knave’! I have a name!” Sonic is really considering placing Caliburn back in that stone. “Sonic the Hedgehog!”
“Very well, Knave the Hedgehog. Onwards.”
Sonic is absolutely putting Caliburn back into that stone, actually.
—
After a bit of walking towards where Nimue is generally supposed to be, Caliburn practically demanded that Sonic take him to a blacksmith before they see Nimue. Sonic wanted to roll his eyes then, and he still does now. Merlina left to hide somewhere, entrusting Sonic to continue his journey with Caliburn on their own now. Before leaving, though, she had plucked a flower from the ground, and asked a question.
“Why do flowers bloom, knowing they are destined to wither?”
Sonic didn’t have an answer for her at the time, especially not with her heavy gaze on the flower. He had decided she was best left to muse by herself for the moment. But as he enters the bustling town, it weighs on his mind. He wonders if what happened to Arthur bothers her more than she lets on. Sonic doesn’t know much about what her situation was like beforehand, if Arthur was a good person or not, but it’s the only explanation he has. If that is the case, then he’ll surely receive answers later. He walks on.
The town itself is at the base of Camelot Castle. Not quite upon it, but not so far that it would be a journey just to get an audience with King Arthur or his knights. He dodges around humans and mobians alike, moving through the crowd with practiced ease as he looks for what should be a smithy. At some point, he thinks he even sees Eggman among the crowd, but whoever it was is gone by the time Sonic gets a better look at the area. What he does see in that same area, however, is a sign that hangs from a building with an intricately designed hammer on it. Simple, kind of like a video game, but Sonic appreciates that quite a bit.
As he gets closer to the sign, he can make out familiar orange tail symbols. The sight of it sparks multiple conflicting emotions. Tails is here? Since when? He’s glad that he’ll get to see a familiar face at least, but how did Tails get here? How long has he been here to have his own smithy? Did this place mess with time as well? All the questions swirl inside his head, but he knows the only way he gets answers is if he walks through the door. When he does, he blinks owlishly at what he sees. He knows he expected to see Tails, but the sight still shocks him more than he’d admit. The fox is busy at the anvil with a red-hot sword, eyeballing it with his goggles over his eyes. He wears an apron, and one hand is fitted with what looks like an oven mitt to Sonic. He looks at home with the furnace behind him casting a warm glow in the room.
“Tails?” He asks. Tails jumps in response, and turns around with surprise on his face.
“Excuse me?” Tails says, confused. There’s a bit of wariness on his face, and Sonic hates to say he recognizes it from when they were kids. It was the same wariness he had when Sonic brought up how cool his tails were, the expectation that it would be some kind of disguised insult. But Tails knows Sonic wouldn’t ever insult them, he rarely ever sees that expression on Tails’s face now unless it was due to some rude stranger. So why would Tails be wearing it now? Then it hits him.
Sonic feels even more stupid than he did about Nimue. This isn’t Tails. The fox before him has sharper eyes, and a small scar on his arm that Tails doesn’t have. He regards Sonic with wariness because he doesn’t know Sonic, there’s no recognition to be found in his gaze. Sonic can’t hide his disappointment, but he laughs it off.
“Confused you for someone else, sorry.” Sonic rubs at the back of his head.
“Oh, that’s alright, Sir Knight.” Tails— no, The blacksmith is polite about it. He places the sword he had been working on into a pail of water. “What can I do for you?”
“He is no knight,” Caliburn is quick to speak. “At least not yet.”
“Says you.” Sonic pokes at Caliburn. In the corner of his eye, Sonic can see the blacksmith’s absolute shock at Caliburn.
“A talking sword?!” The blacksmith hurries over to Caliburn, awe in his gaze. “And such a magnificent one too!”
“Oh, he talks alright.” Sonic looks at the blacksmith fondly. “Not as magnificent as you think though.”
“Are you crazy?!” The blacksmith whips his head around to look at Sonic as if he said the most blasphemous thing to date. “The craftsmanship of… of… What’s your name, Sir?”
“Caliburn,” Caliburn says. He’s basically preening at the blacksmith’s admiration.
“The craftsmanship of Sir Caliburn looks exceptional!” The blacksmith lets Caliburn hop into his hands. “So much so that I can tell it from a glance!”
“If you’re able to tell that from a glance, then can you sharpen his blade while you’re looking?” Sonic takes the chance to observe his surroundings. There’s a shelf near the back wall with pots and vases in it. Above it are two swords. He’s no blacksmith, and the only metal he works with is doing simple mechanic work on the Tornado, which means not much, but both of those swords look sturdy and of good quality. No wonder that the Tails lookalike has a way with metal, though.
“Of course.” The blacksmith walks over to a table and grabs a whetstone that sat on its surface, then sits on a stool. “Say, are you famous by any chance?”
“Shouldn’t be,” Sonic replies. “Why?”
“I don’t know, I just feel like… I’ve heard of Caliburn before.” The blacksmith frowns a little as he pushes the whetstone against Caliburn’s blade. “And I feel like I’ve seen you before too.”
“Huh.” Sonic shrugs. “Can’t answer that one, I’ve never been here in my life.”
“Really?” The blacksmith looks surprised. “Welcome to Camelot then!”
“Thanks.” Sonic tunes the rest of the conversation out while he inspects the rest of the shop. He wanders over by the two swords on the wall, staring at them curiously. As he noticed before, they looked sturdy, but each sword had a small difference. One had a red jewel in the golden looking hilt, and inscribed in the metal was a name: Ambrosius. The other carried a blue jewel in its silver looking hilt, similarly to the other, and the name inscribed on it was Agravain. Were either of them important to the blacksmith? Was he one of them? Neither of the gems looked to be his color, though. He looks over to the blacksmith to ask, but Caliburn has entranced the blacksmith with some grand, fake-sounding tale. He rolls his eyes and continues to look around. By the time the blacksmith is done, Sonic has pretty much looked all over the place for something else that was interesting.
“There! All done. How do you feel, Sir Caliburn?” The blacksmith lets Caliburn hop out of his hands. Caliburn does a few more testing hops.
“Splendid, young blacksmith!” Caliburn praises. “You must be the pride of your family!”
“Thank you,” The blacksmith says. He looks away, bashful. Sonic grins and grabs Caliburn by the hilt. “Don’t worry about payment either. It’s an honor enough getting to work with a talking sword.”
“Thank you, that’s a huge help.” Sonic’s a bit ashamed to say he completely forgot about payment. He pauses, then adds. “What’s your name? I’d figure I’d ask since I called you by the wrong one earlier.”
“Oh, um, I’m Mordred.” The name the blacksmith gives makes Sonic stiffen. He may not have paid enough attention to Tails’s phase with Arthurian Legend, but this is a name he knows from various sparknotes of the story. Caliburn tenses in his hand. Mordred looks between both of them oddly.. “Is everything alright?”
“Uh, yeah.” Sonic says. It’s hard to come to terms with the fact that someone who looks and sounds so much like Tails is supposedly Arthur’s power-hungry murderer. “We’ll be seeing you around, Mordred!”
“Oh.. Kay?” Mordred waves. “Safe travels! Oh, and come back to me for touch-ups!”
—
Exiting the village is a quick affair, though Caliburn remains tense all throughout. It’s not until they’re outside of the village and in the forest does Sonic ask why.
“That name…” Caliburn mutters. “Something about it…”
“Yeah, I get the feeling.” Sonic sighs. “But he seems to be a good ki—“
“I have found you,” a deep voice announces in front of Sonic. “Apprentice knight, enemy of my king.”
He looks up, and sees a hedgehog with an all too familiar silhouette. Sonic blinks at the figure.
“Who the heck are you? Shadow?” He asks. If anybody would get trapped in an alternate dimension and somehow join the dark side in his attempts to do good, it’d be Shadow. He can fully believe that Arthur manipulated Shadow, or that something is afoot and Shadow’s about to give him a painful lesson about why he just did something horrendously wrong. Either or worked, it was usually one of the two anyway.
“No, you fool!” Caliburn’s tense nerves turn into barely disguised panic. “That’s Sir Lancelot!”
Or it’s neither! He’s certainly on a roll of getting things wrong consistently today, and he’s blaming the fact he fell on his face that morning.