Sonic Series Fan Fiction ❯ Frozen Embers ❯ Swirling Snowlit Memories ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
It’s time for the sequel to Inked In Flame. I started writing this to mark my 15th birthday- yup, I’m ancient. At any rate, it’s time to start. If you didn’t read Inked In Flame, please go back and read it, otherwise you won’t have too much of an idea what’s going on, although I will be briefly recapping the story. Still, there’s a lot of rich detail of character’s pasts in there. If you can get past the italics of the first few chapters, eheh… Okay, away we go!

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Chapter the first: Swirling Snowlit Memories

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Cream sighed, and looked out at the icy cloak masking her window. Just beyond this frosty pane, she could see snowflakes swirling in the fell north wind. This relatively small blizzard had been going on for at least three days now. Cream shivered. It had been warmer, but their central heating was on the fritz. She draped another blanket around her slim shoulders and continued staring out at the snow.
“Honey, I’m baking some nice fresh cookies! You want to help? You can lick the bowl afterwards…” Vanilla’s voice floated in from the kitchen.
“No thank you, Mother…” Cream sighed, unable to keep the petulance out of her voice. She knew it was wrong to be sulky, but what else could she do?
“I’ll ask again in half an hour. Give you time to cheer up.” Vanilla called back.
This made Cream feel even worse. Now she felt guilty as well. She continued her window side vigil of the snow. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought that Tails was messing around with weather machines again. But she did know better, and Tails was gone.
“You still miss him, huh? He’s only been gone like, a couple months.” Ai said, sidling up to her. Cream looked at the hare’s pretty brown coat. Cream had never said it, but back when she met Ai she was astounded at the state of her fur. It was tangled, greasy, untamed…Now, after living with Cream and Vanilla for a while, Ai’s fur had regained its natural beauty. Of course, given Ai’s previous lifestyle, it had taken time to settle in to city life, and in particular, the idea of ‘home’. At first, the streets of Station Square had proved a challenge for Ai. She’d never really bothered to look around the city properly, and even now would come back thirty minutes behind schedule because she had gotten lost along her way.
“Don’t worry about it, Cream. He’ll be back soon. After all, how many times has he blown that lab of his up already?” Ai laughed, her tinkling laughter warming the room.
“From what I can gather, it numbers in the region of forty. Of course, that’s just counting destruction of the whole building. The numbers of minor explosions could be ten times that.” Cream smiled, thinking of her slightly haphazard inventor friend. Although he didn’t seem it, Tails was often clumsy, and this sometimes led to him getting hurt. Still, no matter how big the explosion, he would always get up and dust himself off. Then run around screaming as soon as he realised his fur was on fire.
“Why don’t you call him? I mean, I can’t work that mobile phone doo-dah, but you seem to get on with it okay.” Ai winked.
“I just don’t feel like it.” Cream replied, her brow furrowed.
“‘I don’t feel like it. None of your business. Leave me alone, I can handle it. Touch me and I’ll yank out your intestines then make them into sausages.’ You sound like a regular Raze, you know that?” Ai laughed again.
“Hm.” Cream sighed. She continued to let things run over in her head. Tails was gone. Sonic had been paralysed. Knuckles had lost the Master Emerald. Rouge was on the run from the law for assaulting a police officer. Amy and Shadow were having their time taken up with each other. Ai was living at her house. Jecht was gone as well. Eleanor, the wandering knight and Sonic’s true love, was dead. And, at the centre of these chains of events, was Raze. Travelling mercenary fox, complete with battle-action and bad attitude. He had brought them all together, and, although it wasn’t his intention, he had forced them apart. And Arid, Raze’s arch nemesis. Responsible for Sonic’s paralysis, Eleanor’s death, Raze’s injuries, and, in effect, Tails’ absence. Raze and Arid had fought vehemently, but Raze had lost, and Arid had been prepared to strike down the city of Station Square. Sonic had stopped him, but at the cost of his movement. It was a terrible irony- the world’s fastest hedgehog (or second fastest, depending on whether you believed Shadow or not) couldn’t even walk. He spent most of his days depressed, or angry, or both. Whether it was because of Eleanor’s death or his own paralysis, no one knew.
“Hey! Cream! Are you spacing out on me?” Ai’s voice rang out from far away.
And then, after the battle for Station Square, Raze had left. He had gone to become stronger, he had said. Ai had been worried that he was out to get Arid again. Raze had said that he wasn’t stupid, and knew he would lose. He had left afterwards, nursing a set of scars over his right eye, a painful reminder of his loss in battle. He had told Ai to stay in Station Square, and, with nowhere else to go, had moved into Cream’s house.
“Fine. If you want to be that way, be that way. I’m going to the gym.” Ai said huffily, grabbing her coat from the chair. Cream watched her go, wanting to apologise, but knowing it would do no good.
“Cream! Honey! You sure you don’t wanna bake those cookies?” Vanilla’s voice asked again.
“I’m sure, mother. I’m feeling tired. I’m gonna try and get half an hour’s nap.” Cream replied.
“Alright. I’ll wake you when the cookies are done.” Vanilla answered back, sounding slightly concerned.
Cream sat down on her big, fluffy bed. She wished things would go back the way they were. Back when Raze and Shadow were waging open war on each other, when Sonic was terrified of Amy, when Tails had been so adorably desperate to invent something his eyes were practically popping out of his cranium…She wanted it back. It wasn’t fair, she thought, laying back onto her quilt. It wasn’t fair.

Raze walked through the storm of snowflakes, his deep blue coat and his grey muzzle and stomach softening his outline against the white canvas that was the winter air. His cloak flapped around him, torn and frayed at the edges from his last encounter. More than anything in the world, he hated hedgehogs. They were annoying, big headed, self righteous, and always needed someone bigger and stronger than them to bail them out of trouble. They were, in Raze’s world-weary eyes, a truly unnecessary distraction from the more important things in life. Like money, for example. He stole a glance at a sign which was leaning crookedly in a soft pile of slush.
“Tainteras. Town of the Winter Star.” Raze translated under his breath. Now, it became apparent than he was in a town. A medium sized one, cloaked effectively under the blankets of snow. But then again, it was to be expected. He was, after all, nearer the business end of the mountain. He saw another sign, painted in bright green letters.
“Piasitos. Hangman’s Haunt.” Raze muttered under his breath. He walked into the building it was pointing to, and sure enough, it was the local tavern. Immediately, Raze felt at home. This was a good tavern, he decided. Not too big, not too small, and the customers were all too busy bothering their friends to bother him- just the way he liked it. He walked up to the bar, and sat down.
“Hel…Er, hi there. What will you be having, big fella?” the barman spoke in his native tongue .
Raze didn’t answer straight away. He was deciding whether or not to set the barman straight about calling him a ‘big fella’. He decided against it, because although he was smaller than he had been a few months ago, he was still larger than most.
“I don’t know. Whatever’s good, I suppose.” Raze answered back in the same tongue as the barman had. Once again, Raze’s multilingual talents were coming in handy.
“Uh…I’ll get you the house special. Hangman’s Needle. They call it that because it’s as strong as any drug you might inject.” the barman said, pouring the beer.
“I see. Well, rest assured, I can handle my beer.” Raze retorted.
“Hmph. That’s what they all say.” the barman said, handing Raze his drink. Raze went across to a table, and sat down. Now, it was time to get to work. He sipped his beer slowly, watching and waiting for his next job.

Sonic grunted. Normally, he would have rolled over, and then grunted. He couldn’t roll over anymore, so the grunt would have to do. Knuckles grunted back, taking Sonic’s wheelchair into the kitchen. Knuckles had recently expanded his shack on Angel Island, and it now had cooking features. Sonic had taken up residence with Knuckles on account of the fact that Tails had kicked him out, saying that he was sick of hearing “What’s that do?”
“Got any coffee on this goddamn rock o’ yours? Sonic grumbled. He didn’t mention that coffee gave him the squits, but hey ho.
“No. And quit asking.” Knuckles grunted.
“Hey, is that a thong on that bush?” Sonic shouted. As Knuckles looked for the thong, Sonic nabbed his waffles, snarfed them down and went back to looking innocent.
“There is no thong!” Knuckles shouted, his predictable temper flaring.
“Well, there is no waffles, but there we go!” Sonic laughed.
“Gah! I should throw you offa this goddamn flying rock!” Knuckles shouted, smashing his brand new coffee table.
“Oopsy, baby Knucky had a tantrum and broke his toys! Don’t worry, Knuckles- IKEA loves you!” Sonic guffawed.
“Arghh! Why did I ever agree to take care of you in the first place?” Knuckles ranted.
“Because you’re ugly and lonely and stupid!” Sonic laughed.
“ARGHH!”

Tails sighed, and put down his spanner. He picked up the greasy rag beside him, and mopped his brow. His fur was black with oil, and his hands ached.
“Hey, newbie! Pick that GODDAMN spanner back up, and get to frickin’ WORK!” an angry voice yelled down at him. Grunting, Tails picked up the spanner again. He’d been working here for at least three months now, and they still called him newbie. Not only that, but e got all the worst jobs. There was just no creative scope. It was like being an artist, but having to paint exactly the same thing over and over again, in exactly the same colours, even though you could plainly see that it would look SO much better if you added just a teensy bit of red. That was exactly how Tails felt. His engineering was his art, and turbocharged motors, heat-seeking missiles and nitrous oxide were his red. Or something to that effect. Either way, he was bored to within an inch of his life, toiling away in some back-end mechanic shop in Metal City, doing nothing more challenging than fixing trucks, lorries, more trucks, cars, and the occasional Extreme Gear. Where were the rockets? Where were the explosives? Where was the button that sent you at such an alarming speed that your insides gradually started to turn into a fine sludge whilst screaming in pain?
“Are you done yet, ya good for nothin’ rube?”
Tails stopped daydreaming, and put his mind to the task. Immediately, he saw what was wrong. He got straight to the root of the problem. It was a faulty fuel pump that had some diesel still left inside it. Using all his mechanical knowledge, he found the perfect solution. Picking his mark carefully, he whacked the offending part as hard as he could with the spanner. Unfortunately, as he sighed with satisfaction, he spied a spark that had come loose from the impact. He swore gently to himself just before the vehicle exploded.

“Cream! Amy’s here to see you!”
Cream woke up immediately. Amy’s visits were now few and far between. Her and Shadow had really hit it off. Naturally, Amy had been spending more time with Shadow than she had with Cream.
“Ok, mother! I’m coming!” Cream shouted, literally bouncing to the kitchen. Amy was sitting at the table, nibbling on what appeared to be a three day old piece of shortcake that had been nestled in the nether regions of Cream’s fridge.
“Amy!” Cream squeaked adorably, before plonking herself gracefully into the nearest chair.
Amy took a last nibble of the shortcake, then placed in gently upon the table. She took a long sip of the tea that Vanilla had placed in front of her. She opened her mouth to speak.
“SHADOW AND ME BROKE UP! THAT SONNUVABITCH DUMPED ME! BY PHONE! THAT SPINELESS, COWARDLY…WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Amy screamed at the top of her lungs.
Cream sat back, bemused, until Amy had finished her long lament. Then, after Amy had head butted Cream’s shoulder and started sobbing profusely, Cream gently patted her on the back. Vanilla wisely decided to busy herself with baking another batch of cookies, leaving the two girls to figure it out.
“Umm…Amy? Why did Mr. Shadow break up with you?” Cream asked sensitively.
“He..He…He…said I was fat! He said I’d been drinking too many milkshakes and I wasn’t the woman he had fallen in love with!” Amy wailed, making the newly acquired potted plants (Ai still had difficulty with the definition of ‘groceries’) quiver. Although she didn’t want to admit it, Cream could see Shadow’s point. Amy, after finally bagging a hedgehog lover, had given up the keep fit regime- and gone up three dress sizes. Even now, Amy was far bigger than Cream, who was fairly svelte. As Amy slowly but surely ruined her dress, Cream could find no way to console her, short of lying barefacedly. So, in absence of any better plan, Cream just kept patting Amy on the back, condemning her dress to the charity shop.

Raze looked up as he sensed footsteps approaching his table.
“Hey, are you a…well, a mercenary?” the stranger asked confidently.
“Hey, are you, uh…always that good at spotting the obvious?” Raze spat, not looking at the person he was speaking to.
“Uh…” the voice came back, sounding taken aback.
“Well? Are you going tell me what the hell you want, or are you gonna admire my drinking technique?” Raze asked.
“Um, ah, well, uh…I need to be escorted, see, and…” the voice came back, taken down a peg or nine.
“Fantastic. Now why don’t you siddown and tell me about it.” Raze invited, satisfied that he wasn’t going to have to take any more lip. He watched the figure as it sat down.
“So, uh, well…”
“What do you think you are, a cowboy? I wasn’t aware that there was still work for ranch-hands around here.” Raze mocked, gesturing at the client’s attire. He was wearing a Stetson hat, which was perched jauntily on his head. A pair of rabbit ears poked out of the sides, and fell to the client’s shoulders. He was wearing a musty brown three-quarter length coat, which was obviously made out of leather. Black leather trousers completed the outfit.
“Shut up! You’re a mercenary, you’re no better!” the client said, finally finding a spine.
“Oh, please. The whole ‘mercenaries are the scum of Mobius’ jibe. You forget, sunshine, that even if I am scum, I’m perfectly capable of kicking your ass here and now, then just taking the money from your corpse.” Raze smiled.
“T-that’s disgusting!”
“And? I’m the scum of the Mobius, remember? Now, why don’t you simmer down and tell me where you wanna be escorted to. After all, whether you employ me or not, I’m walking away with the contents of your wallet.” Raze said, his voice dusky and threatening.
“Gah! What have gotten myself into?” the client lamented, knocking over Raze’s beer. Raze fixed him with a steely glare, and smiled just enough to show his fierce teeth. Immediately, the stranger sat down.
“You have until three to tell where you’re going, or else the only place you’ll be going is underground.” Raze growled, his eyes flashing with a malevolent sheen.
“Station Square!” the rabbit yelled. At once, the whole tavern looked at them, searching for the source of the disturbance. Raze stood up, waiting until the inevitable happened.
“Hey…Isn’t that the guy on the wanted poster? You know, the one who they said-”
“Nah, couldn’t be…Hmm…Wait…Blue fur, hooded cloak…”
“It is! We have to get out of here, now, or he might do the same to us!”
“Never! If we bring his head to the cops, it’ll get a pretty penny!”
“You, take him?!?!? Not before me you don’t!”
“Now you’ve done it. I guess I’ll have to demonstrate what you’re buying when you pay for my combat skills.” Raze sighed, unsheathing his long, vicious claws. They shone dangerously in the dimly-lit tavern, casting an angry glare over the fox’s face. A smile flickered onto his face as he started his work.

“Hmm. That certainly was a good haul. I might be on the run, but I sure haven’t lost my talents!” Rouge cackled, admiring her newly acquired treasures. Two rubies, as big as her fists. They radiated beauty- like her, she thought with a smile. She stowed them in here suitcase, then walked out from the alley where she’d been hiding. A crowd passed by, and she melted into it like chocolate into a cake. Spying some sizable rings on a passing hand, she gently plucked them from their rightful owner.
“This is so easy!”, she snickered to herself. “Why didn’t I go on the run earlier? I could have gotten so many more gems!”
Then, she felt a pang of guilt. Knuckles. She’d gotten carried away. Even though she was on the run, she’d been searching for the pieces of the Master Emerald. To bring them back, so she could steal them. She wondered, for a second, why she didn’t just collect them, and then keep them. Those glittering green shards of brilliance, which men (well, Knuckles) were willing to die for…But no. Not only was it not right, but she’d rather steal them with her own skill. She enjoyed the sport- and the expression on that dim-witted echidna’s mug! Laughing, she ghosted away from the crowd, and into a back alley. She needed to find those shards- but how?

Raze dusted off his gloves on his jeans. The bar looked like a rhino had barged through it. Chairs lay broken, picked up and used by the bounty hunters, to little effect. Raze relied on his fists, claws, teeth and tail as his only weapons. In the corner of the bar, each and every bounty hunter who’d tested their luck against the mercenary fox lay broken. Raze sighed, and sheathed his claws.
“Humans. What can you do with them?” Raze asked his client with a knowing smile. He knelt down by the pile of bounty hunters, and began to rifle through their possessions. After pocketing the contents of a few wallets, he stood up, the timbers of the floorboards giving an agonising creak. He tossed a coin to the bartender, who caught it with surprise.
“You’ve got a nice tavern. Pity about the clientele.” Raze said coolly, his tail swishing behind him as he walked. His client followed, glad to be away from the scene.
“Wait.” Raze said, his voice dark again.
“Why?” his client asked, only to have Raze’s hand clamped firmly over his mouth.
The waiting continued a minute more. No one moved, even the terrified bartender. After a while, Raze walked over to the wall of the bar. He placed his ear to it for a second, then smiled in that sweetly sadistic way that he had long perfected.
“I’d get the pipes in that wall checked out. They keep making strange noises.” the mercenary fox remarked loudly. He turned to walk away, his boots clunking loudly on the wooden floor. He stopped for a moment, his sleek tail flicking. Then, he turned quietly, taking care not to clunk his boots, and casually rammed his hand through the wall. The bartender groaned, thinking of how much it would cost to fix this random act of vandalism.
“What the hell do you think you’re- hey, what’s that sound?” his client hissed, as a strange banging sounded from the other side of the wall.
“That would be our would-be ambusher choking.” Raze growled darkly. Then, with a monumental wrench, he brought his arm back through the wall again- and with it, a massive foe. Raze let go as his arm reached the furthest point of it’s curve, flinging the enemy across the room. The cold winter wind howled through the yawning hole in the wall, spreading snowflakes onto the tavern floor.
The assailant stood up, and didn’t know whether to smile or groan. It was Malakov, the town’s strongest man. He stood a full 7 foot tall, his massive frame dwarfing the form of the lithe mercenary. Malakov, with his huge strength. was sure to remove the mercenary form his tavern. However, what kind of damage would ensue?
“Hmph. What are you doing in a tavern? They don’t sell protein shakes.” Raze growled to the giant. Fox and man eyed each other up, gauging their chances. Raze’s eyes, made expert by experience and training, scoured the huge man’s form for weaknesses, taking in everything, from the man’s gigantic bulging muscles to his ruddy complexion, his massive tree trunk legs to the cords sticking out of his huge neck. The fox smiled as he found what wasn’t the most spectacular or ethic way of taking the giant down, but it’d work, and since when did he care if his enemies lived or not?
“So, are you just going to stand there , or are you going to buy me a drink?” Raze taunted.
“You. You will not leave here alive. I will crush the life from your very body!” the giant roared, lumbering towards Raze. Raze stood his ground, and made to grapple. The monstrous opponent saw the move, and clasped hands with the fox, pushing with all his might. Raze responded with equal force, certain in his plan. Malakov pushed harder, grunting and straining, really throwing his considerable weight into it. Raze didn’t budge. The man may have been bigger, but the fox was all muscle- lean, wiry, efficient muscle. Raze could have broken the grapple at any second, and tossed the man like garbage. But, instead, he carefully measured his force, waiting for something. Soon enough, it came. The man gave a shudder, and Raze smiled once again. He wondered how long it would take to give out. The man gasped. He gasped again, still trying to push against the fox. His eyes dilated, and a cold sweat ran over his massive brow. Then, he collapsed. Raze supported the prone body, then threw the man off of him. His plan had worked perfectly.
“W-w…What have you done to Malakov?” the bartender asked, a quaver of terror in his voice.
“What do you mean, what have I done? I did nothing.” Raze laughed, characteristically cold.
“But you…!” the barkeeper spluttered, watching the now-spasming form of Malakov.
“Hah. Don’t you know? Humans aren’t meant to get that big. It reduces circulation, and puts a strain on the heart. Too big in this instance.” Raze explained, his tone uncaring as always.
“You induced a heart attack? When you could have just knocked him out? You’re a monster!” the barkeeper yelled, forgetting just how dangerous yelling at the fox could be.
“I might be a monster. But at least I’m good at it.” Raze sniffed. Then, he turned effortlessly and left the tavern, his client following at a safe distance.

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Well, there you go! One chapter of the sequel to Inked In Flame! Hope you enjoyed it!