Schlattbur Oneshots

the wicked king soot - SCHLATTBUR MEDIEVAL AU

As if timing could not be more perfect, a foreign sound echoes ever so faintly in the chambers, alerting his hearing senses.

"Wait." he commands with a whisper, halting to a stop as he holds out his arm, signalling for silence. Tubbo freezes where he is, slowly putting away his sharpener. The halls do not speak, and silence falls deaf on their ears.

He bites his lip, closing his eyes to exude more focus as he crouches, but he hears nothing. Lowering his voice to another whisper, he says after a pause, "Hey, kid... did you hear that?"

After a momentary delay, he answers back softly. "I... I think so."

Darkness still encapsulating his vision, Schlatt pays close attention to the distinction of any more sounds. For a few ephemeral seconds, there is nothing but pure, grim silence; until suddenly, there is an indistinct whirring noise, disturbing his hearing. He inches his fingers to his sheathed sword, feeling his apprehension grow as the whirring noise slowly becomes louder — until the whirring morphs into a hissing, as if something is whizzing across the air.

He feels the neutrons in his wiring brain travel at the speed of light, as his mind processes reality at double the speed it usually does. The sounds are more prominent in his left ear... Yes, it's definitely something flying at an incredible speed. Right in his direction.

As the whizzing grows unmistakably louder, he feels the world slow down a little, and his eyes snap open. He impulsively sways his head to the right, and sure enough, followed only milliseconds after is a dagger just skimming past his left cheekbone.

"Shit!" he yells, spinning around, "someone's fucking here! Wait, no. Not fucking, nobody's fucking here— "

Just in the nick of time, Tubbo swings up his sword, as the dagger collides into the steel, deflecting back and clanking onto the ground. Then, there's a slow singular applause.

"Congratulations on figuring such out."

While the voice didn't come from neither him nor Tubbo, the familiarity was undeniable. He can recognise that voice from anywhere — and knowing so makes his heart jump twenty beats.

"No..." His lip trembles, as pure shock ashens his face. "It can't be you. It... it just can't."

Tubbo catches the expression sprawled out on his face, and quickly pieces together that Schlatt obviously knows something he doesn't. Of course, Tubbo wasn't there at the time he was.

Slowly, the Knight turns around, and to his horror, his premonition was correct. It is him.

A menacing figure emerges from within the shadows of the tunnels, revealing his identity underneath the dim light of the candle-lit lanterns.

"Well, well. It has been a long time, hasn't it, Schlatt?" The distinguishable smirk enfolds along his recognisable, masculine face. Downright revelation twists the man's insides. He's more shocked than scared.

"Soot?"

≫≫≫

Locks of his tenebrous, chocolate hair falls over his face, and ragged past his shoulders. A worn-out, vintage trench coat clothes his body, and his arms are wrapped with layers of dirty bandages; a coal-black eyepatch conceals his left eye, leaving his ember right eye naked and defined underneath the overcast light. Even though most of his hair lays dangling over the side of his face with the eyepatch, Schlatt can notice the same hideous scar still vaguely visible from beneath it.