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Mickey Mouse

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On the first Monday of the month, the capital city of Arcadia seemed to be absolutely abuzz with revolution. Many citizens scurried about, gossiping about and preparing for the arrival of a much-anticipated foreign dignitary. Sweeping in and out of all the hustle and bustle were the cloth caps and adorned tunics of King Tyree VI’s musketeers, doing their level best to prep the defenses, tweak them even just a little bit more as the morning of the visitor’s arrival approached rather rapidly. Missing amongst them was the smallest member of their merry band, who’d spent the last several months in a sort of hesitant exile.

But as a tiny shadow crept over the horizon, the familiar blaring of trumpets signaled Mickey Mouse’s return to Arcadia.

Adjusting his cloth cap on his head, the mouseketeer breathed a sigh of relief as the only home he’d ever known finally began to take shape. Throughout his trek through the stuffy forests between the sorcerer’s tower—situated on a cliff-face overlooking a faraway sea—and his destination’s main gate, he’d lost track of time and of his distance from home. The journey seemed to be nigh neverending, and the gargantuan tome weighing down his pack only served to lengthen the struggle.

The trip from Yen Sid’s tower, had been exhausting, if not exactly treacherous. Throughout that time, Mickey had spared many a thought on why, exactly, the wizard had called him—of all King Tyree VI’s musketeers—to the tower. Many of the others seemed more eminently qualified to capture the old wizard’s attention; in fact, if he were being really honest, he was probably one of the worst musketeers ever employed in the king’s service.

Truth be told, though, the group wasn’t exactly made up of high caliber fighters to begin with. The troupe of musketeers served less as an official segment of the boy king’s guard and more as noble figureheads, pointing their rapiers at petty criminals and occasionally guarding an important political figure of some sort. Most were, at best, competent at their job; some, however, impressed the aristocrats greatly. Some of Arcadia’s finest lords and ladies had been known to specifically request a musketeer escort rather than a member of the city guard.

This trend had only increased since the unfortunate slaughter of the young king’s family. Public trust in the city’s highly-trained elite bodyguard force had waned as their monarch and much of the royal family had been ruthlessly murdered, leaving only an introverted, highly anxious teenager behind to rule the city, and in their place, the musketeers slipped in. They’d not yet found occasion to prove whether or not they deserved a spot amongst the most elite of the city’s watchmen, but nowadays you couldn’t look around Arcadia without spotting one of the brave, cap-sporting swordsmen puffing out his chest and holding his head high.

Yet, the man had seen something in him—someone very few people back home had ever considered special. Yen Sid called him across the countryside to test his natural abilities in the arcane arts, and then—much to the mouse’s surprise—he’d passed the original test.

The book in his pack was testament enough to his apparent success. Its pages filled with spells and magic of all kinds, the sorcerer had bestowed it upon Mickey to study intensely, and then hopefully return when he was ready to put things into action. Some had been able to learn the magic of the Spellbook without formal training, but suffice it to say, between his normal klutziness and almost destroying the wizard’s entire operation solely with some magicked cleaning supplies, confidence in Mickey’s abilities had waned slightly, despite his surprise aptitude in Yen Sid’s many tests.

A few more hours of walking, and finally, Arcadia’s magnificent gates swung open to greet the return of one of its trusty—if not necessarily trusted—musketeers, and Mickey Mouse stepped inside. The cobblestones of his home city’s streets had never felt so good beneath his feet.

The hustle and bustle of the city, it seemed, had not ceased in the mouse’s absence. Dim, orange lights illuminated the town even as the sky shifted to the deep purple of night, and the streets filled to the brim with people heading home from work or out to lavish evening events, the hour of night be darned. Mickey, for his part, felt his eyes and huge ears growing droopier and droopier after long hours of walking, and eventually made his way through the city’s winding streets and back to his flat.

He plopped down on his bed, his eyes immediately shutting as he buried his face in his pillow. A deep sigh elicited from the little guy as, without even changing into his PJ’s, he slowly slipped from consciousness, drifting into dreamland and away from the stresses of the world.

* * *​

The next morning: back to work.

Mickey!

The boy mouse stood in the entrance hall of her rather lavish home, up and armored bright and early for his duty that day. It wasn’t every day he got to act as personal bodyguard to Lady Minnie Mouse, a minor noblewoman of Arcadia, and between the infrequency with which the Lady graced him with her presence and… their history, he wanted to look impressive.

His worries, however, were unfounded. The lady mouse bolted down the stairs from her chamber at first sight, running as fast as she could in her stuffy lady’s garb and wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. Mickey could feel her various servants averting their gaze at the sight, but he wasn’t complaining.

For her part, the Lady Minnie Mouse had become a… specific champion of the musketeers in recent times. Or, perhaps—Mickey dared not even hope for it, but… perhaps she was more a champion of a certain musketeer… though running off to some stuffy old tower right after saving her hadn’t exactly won him any points.

What could she say, though? Well, very carefully, and making sure to only express it as much as was appropriate with her favorite musketeer’s state, what she could say was that she missed him, and that she wanted him to come back home. And today, finally, after many months of waiting, it seemed the lady mouse had finally gotten her wish.

Mickey returned the hug gently and respectfully. “Good morning, milady.”

“Oh, please,” Lady Minnie said, breaking away from him, “it’s just Minnie, please! How many times do I have to tell you to quit with that nonsense?”

“Just a few more times, milady,” Mickey winked, and Minnie Mouse scowled.

“Whatever,” she shrugged, brushing past the male mouse. Mickey frowned. He hated to upset her, but what else was he supposed to do? She was a lady of noble parentage, and only about a year ago he’d been a simple street urchin, condemned to a life of poverty forever. His change in fortunes didn’t foretell some automatic change in station. He couldn’t afford to let his personal feelings about Minnie cloud his judgment.

…in truth, though, he thought of little else. Lady Minnie’s face had been burned into his mind the first time he’d seen it, and for the weeks he’d spent in veritable exile from his friends and his work while at the sorcerer’s tower, he longed to return to her and see her again. Now that he was here, though, he wasn’t sure exactly what he expected. Of course they’d go back to her being a paragon of beauty gliding through the upper echelons of society, and back to Mickey being nothing more than her occasional muscle.

They weren’t meant for anything more grand than that.

Mickey glanced over his shoulder and watched as Minnie Mouse’s effervescent form floated out of the main hall of her home and into the front gardens. With a sad sigh, he followed.
 

Mickey Mouse

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Mickey Mouse caught up to his charge just in time for the pair to hear the heralds announce the foreign dignitary’s arrival. From the lady mouse’s gardens the actual announcement was muffled, but the trumpet call was loud and clear.

“They gave me trumpets yesterday,” Mickey mused idly, not even really realizing he’d said it out loud.

“Well, of course they did,” Minnie shrugged, glancing back at him. “You’re a town hero, after all. You saved the most fabulous lady in Arcadia.” She grinned, and for a moment giggles eclipsed his sad expression. The pair of mice smiled at each other for a few moments before remembering their manners and hushing themselves, preparing to head off to the meet and greet for whoever Arcadia’s esteemed guest was.

They boarded Minnie’s carriage in relative silence. Inside the claustrophobic box, it was desperately humid, and made the already relatively awkward ride all the more uncomfortable. Mickey sat at attention, hand on his sword, sweat dripping down his face; Minnie did all she could to put her face outside the window and in the path of a light breeze, and waved her fan madly. None of it helped, though—the heat blared down on them, and their awkward reunion had soured any opportunity for polite conversation, so the pair of mice sat and suffered in silence.

The chocobo-drawn vehicle made the trip relatively quickly, thank goodness, and relatively immediately Minnie Mouse darted out of it and up into the lavish ballroom where the lords and ladies of Arcadia were meant to meet whomever this foreign person was. Mickey thought of hurrying behind her and, y’know, doing his job—protecting her and stuff—but he got the feeling she kind of wanted to remain at arm’s length from him, so he lingered behind.

He stood outside the carriage, knowing that as his charge entered the ballroom she probably wasted no time sharing cheek-kisses and gentle hugs with the various nobility of the city. Meanwhile, he stood out here, alone, adjusting his tunic and making sure his hat was on straight before even thinking of it. He checked his appearance using his reflection in a nearby fountain, and when he finally found himself satisfied with his effects, he turned to head to the ballroom and ran smack into someone.

The pair hit the ground with a plop, Mickey falling directly onto the young woman’s lap. Nearby, a strange-looking guard moved in, but the girl raised her hand and signaled him to halt.

“It’s alright, captain,” she chuckled, sitting up and helping the short mouse back onto his feet.

“I’m—I’m so sorry, ma’am,” Mickey stammered, taking one look at her beautiful green dress and knowing he was speaking with someone of a much higher state than he.

“Oh, it’s alright, little guy,” she smiled. Mickey couldn’t help but take slight offense at her calling him ‘little guy,’ but after running into her so clumsily, he felt like he definitely wasn’t afforded any opportunity to speak up about that now.

“Well, ma’am,” he squeaked nervously, “my apologies, nevertheless.”

He glanced up at her face, and suddenly was struck by just how much her smile glowed. The light of a thousand suns seemed to emanate from her visage, warmth and tenderness exuding from the red-haired woman effortlessly. She reached out a hand and her guard captain helped her to her feet; she stood at least three feet taller than Mickey, but somehow managed to make him feel on her level with just a quirk of her face.

“You’re a musketeer,” she noticed, gesturing toward his tunic. Mickey nodded sheepishly. “I can tell,” she nodded, “not only because of that, but because you’re very polite. Much more polite than any guards I know.” She shot a sarcastic look at her guard captain, who blustered just a bit at the young woman’s joke.

“Ma’am—” he protested.

“Oh, be quiet, captain,” she laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. “Owwww,” she groaned, shaking her hand off, “that armor hurts!”

The captain’s face was covered by his helmet, but both Mickey and the girl could tell that his face had contorted into a frown.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you, ma’am,” Mickey interjected into the brief silence, “I was just about to be heading inside—”

“Oh, into the ballroom?” she perked up, glancing down at the mouseketeer. “What a coincidence! That’s where I’m going too! Mind escorting me, Mr. Musketeer?”

For a moment, Mickey’s politely stern exterior gave way to a creeping smile. “Um, sure,” he said, “and it’s Mickey! The name, I mean. The name’s Mickey.” If he could’ve blushed, he might have done so a little bit over his incessant stuttering. She was so nice and cheery, something he’d missed while traveling to Yen Sid’s and something Minnie Mouse hadn’t really been able to be considering… everything.

“I’m Anna,” she replied.

Princess Anna,” the guard captain quickly corrected her.

“Oh, for the love of everything, captain,” she rolled her eyes. “Yes, Princess Anna of Arrendale, a small settlement on Inverxe, not that anyone freakin’ cares.” She placed her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at the guard captain, who remained stoic.

Mickey, for his part, became flabbergasted all over again.

Inverxe? As in, another whole world? In all his life, he’d never met anyone who wasn’t from Erde Nona. He’d heard lots about other planets and worlds and was sure that some of the many people bustling through Arcadia were foreigners, but he’d never come face to face with one of them himself.

Wait just a goshdarn second.

You’re the foreign dignitary?!”

Anna bristled. “Ugh,” she huffed, “please don’t act like that! I’m just… trying to have fun at this ball, y’know?” Her eyes grew wide and pleading with the mouseketeer. For a moment, he considered whether being friendly to a lady of Princess Anna’s importance was against his duty; but in the end, he decided to heck with it—it’d been too long since he’d had fun and this lady wasn’t even from Erde Nona! Why did it matter if he sacrificed a bit of professionalism so that they could both have a good time?

“Okey-dokey! Let’s go get you some fun, pal!” he smiled. Anna’s frown turned upside down and she held out a hand. Mickey placed his own gloved one on her palm, and began to lead her inside. Behind them, the guard captain scowled at the lack of decorum in the interaction, but he followed them nonetheless.

Both of their moods significantly brightened by each other’s presence, Mickey Mouse and Princess Anna darted up the stairs and cascaded through the open door and into the lavish party that awaited them.
 

Mickey Mouse

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The party truly was fabulous.

Princess Anna, as it turned out, wasn’t the only foreign dignitary visiting Arcadia that day, just the most famous one—and perhaps the only one from another planet. Many minor noblemen and women from the Hinterlands danced and mingled with Arcadia’s finest as Mickey Mouse and this new redheaded buddy leaned against the wall, sipping grape juice and gossiping and giggling to themselves. For a few moments, both of them sort of forgot that an outside world even existed, or that they both had very specific jobs to attend to.

The swish of Minnie Mouse’s pink dress twirling by the mouseketeer called his attention back to the matter at hand. She spun in the arms of a Moogle diplomat, probably from somewhere outside the city walls, and shot her would-be bodyguard a snide look as they passed, prompting Mickey’s carefree smile to droop into a frown as all the worries of his morning crept back into view.

For her part, Anna noticed the change in Mickey’s demeanor immediately. “What’s up, little guy?” she asked, squatting down to get on his level.

“Nothing,” he lied, but Anna’s eyes had already tracked his gaze to the Lady.

“Oh,” she nodded, catching Minnie’s stern glance, “you like her?”

Mickey straightened himself up, trying his best to hide his blushing face from the princess. “Uh, no—”

“Okay, cool, then,” the redhead nodded. “Let’s go get her attention, shall we?”

“I really don’t think that’s such a good idea—” Mickey attempted to protest, but Anna had already laced her fingers in his gloved ones and begun to drag him out onto the dance floor.

Above them, on a balcony of the ballroom, a string quartet laid into the last few notes of the fast-paced song that had taken so many lords and ladies for a jaunt around the room. Light applause bridged the gap between that and the deep cello notes that started the next one, which was slower, more romantic. Anna leaned down to be closer to Mickey’s level and placed one of his hands on her shoulder and one on her hip, and then pulled him as close as the height differences would allow and began to waltz.

Mickey Mouse could feel the entire room’s eyes focus in on him and the princess from Inverxe, and none of the gazes felt friendly. They stepped through the motions of the dance, Anna spinning him and helping him dip her at each crescendo of the music, but as easy as the dance itself became, something felt… especially off about the whole affair.

Who was this girl, anyway?

A princess from Inverxe. Mickey didn’t know much about the other planets in the Crossroads, but he had some basic knowledge of each one—Govermorne was real shiny, Kraw was real dangerous, and Inverxe…

…well, as far as he knew, Inverxe was basically uninhabitable. Yet Princess Anna claimed there was a whole settlement—Arrendale, was it?—sitting pretty on the world. How in the world did they even manage something like that? And how in the world were they involved in something so important that she had been sent here on some sort of diplomatic mission, or whatever it was she was supposed to be doing in Arcadia?

Mickey’s thought process was interrupted as Princess Anna received a gloved tap on her shoulder. The redhead looked down to find another mouse staring up at her with slightly vicious eyes.

“Mind if I cut in, miss?” Minnie Mouse said in her sweetest voice, trying her best—and failing astoundingly—at hiding the venom behind her eyes.

Anna didn’t mind. She simply smiled. “Of course,” she stepped out of the way, shooting Mickey a look and a wink and disappearing in the crowd. The mouse watched her go and then turned his gaze back to Minnie, who caused his stomach to immediately drop. Without a word, Minnie held up her hands in the skeleton of the waltz formation, and beckoned Mickey impatiently in. He slid into her arms quickly and they picked up dancing where he and Princess Anna had left off.

For what seemed like ages, they danced in silence, until at last Minnie broke it. “She seems sweet,” the lady mouse bit.

“She’s cool,” Mickey nodded, avoiding eye contact.

Around them, eyes still gazed. Surprisingly, not as intensely as they had when he’d been dancing with Anna—Mickey supposed everyone else, too, shared the same curiosity about the ginger princess from Inverxe’s purpose at this ball right now.

“You don’t seem happy to see me,” Minnie interjected into his thoughts once again.

“You know that isn’t true,” Mickey frowned.

“Then look at me,” she commanded, grabbing the male mouse’s chin and forcing him to make eye contact with her. He bit his lip nervously. “Tell me you don’t absolutely hate me, Mickey Mouse. Tell me you didn’t decide you hated me while you were up in that tower.”

“Of course I don’t hate you, milady,” Mickey assured her.

“Well, it certainly seems like it when you insist on calling me milady instead of my actual name like I’ve asked you, Mickey,” she scowled.

Mickey’s face scrunched up. “It isn’t—” he started, and then stopped for a second, trying to figure out the best way to put this into words. “I’m just… not good enough for ya, pal,” he shrugged, “and you know that, too.”

Minnie paused and stepped back. “Not… good enough for me?”

She began to laugh, but the sounds of screams from across the ballroom caught her and the musketeer’s attention. They were coming from the direction the princess had disappeared in.

“Anna,” Mickey muttered, worriedly.

Minnie shoved him in the direction of the disturbance. “Go do your job, we’ll talk later!”

Begin World Quest: One of the King's Men
Quest Giver: King Tyree
Quest Length: 5,000 words
Quest Location: Arcadia/Erde Nona
Quest Prerequisites: Be in service of the King
Quest Description: King Tyree VI is a trouble young boy, known to see devils in shadows and ghosts in the twisted halls of Arcadia's grand palace. A charismatic and well-meaning youth before the attempted coup against his family, he still has enemies in many places. Some bits of intelligence seem to imply that a member of the knight's order of Arcadia may be feeding sensitive information to villainous sources. Investigate these leaks to determine their source. Once you find the source, neutralize it in whatever means you deem appropriate.

Current Word Count: 955/5000 according to Google Docs.
 

Mickey Mouse

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Mickey Mouse burst through the crowd just as a burst of wind knocked Princess Anna on the ground. She scrambled back away from her assailant, her normally cheery face going pale with fear. The mouseketeer jumped into action, rushing forward and placing himself between the princess and…

…some skeletons?

The mouse’s eyes went wide as they stared at the pair of skeletons shambling toward Princess Anna and himself. Their rickety formers lurched, like zombies, at the pair, with no words to accompany them but rather simply low, guttural growls.

Mickey stepped back, tripping over Anna’s outstretched leg and landed not-so-gracefully on the ground beside her.

The undead warriors closed in, eliciting screams and gasps from the line of gathered bystanders. Mickey clambered backwards with Anna, frantically glancing around for backup from her guard captain, or other musketeers, or… well, frankly, anyone! Nobody seemed to be nearby, or brave enough to face such a mysterious threat.

One of the skeletons swung his sword high into the air and let out a wild, maddened shout. Darkness burst forth from the tip of his blade and swept throughout the dance hall, squelching the light of each candle or lamp as it danced through the room. The wealthy onlookers huddled together, terrified, tripping and falling over each others’ capes and dresses as they scurried for safety. Minnie Mouse had almost reached the edge of the circle to see what was going on when several fancy ladies in even fancier, more poofy dresses than hers’ stumbled backward and fell on top of her.

Tha-thump. Tha-thump.

Mickey could feel his heartbeat quicken, but he gulped and pushed himself off the ground, unsheathing his rapier and lowering himself into a battle position. Anna rugged on his tunic.

“Mickey—” she cautioned, but the mouseketeer held up a gloved hand.

“No need to worry, princess,” he assured her with some trepidation apparent in his shaky decibels, “I’ll save you.”

And with that, he lunged forward, swiping his blade at the nearest skeleton. It brought its rusty sword up to parry Mickey’s blow, but he slipped underneath it, sliding onto his back and slamming a boot into the skeleton’s ankle. The bones of his leg split off from their foundation and he hopped forward in Anna’s direction, now missing one of his own feet.

Anna scrambled back, melding into the crowd as the peg legged skeleton clumsily approached. Meanwhile, the second skeleton had swung his blade at the mouse’s head, barely clipping the end of the feather in his cap. Mickey leapt up and pressed a palm to the back of the monster’s skull, shoving him into his partner. The pair collided frustratedly, becoming twisted and tangled in each other’s meatless forms, and Mickey Mouse lifted a hand.

Gosh, I hope this actually works.

Abracadabra!” he shouted, and a burst of transparent energy shot forth from his palm and slammed into the skeletal attackers, scattering their bones into the crowd. Bystanders gasped as the pieces of the assailants flew into them, and then grew eerily silent.

After finally wrenching herself free of the pristine pile-up that had trapped her, Minnie Mouse burst forth from the crowd and stood, staring at her would-be bodyguard. The point of his rapier clinked against the ground as he let himself relax for just a moment. It seemed the enemies had been defeated.

Somewhere in the crowd, a small flitter of applause emerged. Minnie glanced back at the red-headed princess who’d begun the clapping, then glanced at her sometimes-paramour and joined in the clapping. Soon, it was raucous, with the rich people yelping, hooting, and hollering in the little mouse man’s honor. If Mickey could have blushed, he would have.

He’d never been the world’s greatest musketeer—far from it, in fact. Sure, one time he’d saved Minnie from some nasty bandits, but for the most part, his betters has regulated him to janitorial duties or symbolic assignments instead of allowing him any legitimate opportunities to show ‘em what he was made of.

And now, the entirety of the Arcadian wealthy elite had watched him tackle the creepy skeleton dudes, and win. He focused in on the crowd, scanning it and finding Princess Anna’s face. She winked at him.

Within seconds, however, a low rumbling began beneath the mouse’s feet and the applause faded, falling off and being instantly replaced by images of fear and dread, the color being sucked right out of the upper crust’s faces as they all stared up at something probably huge standing behind him. Mickey Mouse not his lip; what could it be? Some sort of hideous undead monster? A zombie dragon maybe? Something fearsome, for certain.

He spun around and looked up—but he didn’t see a dragon at all.

The mouse’s eyes went wide as they stared up at the translucent little girl staring down at them. Her entire self—skin, hair, clothes, and all—was a stark, snowy shade of white, save for her eyes, which glowed a furious electric blue. Alabaster pigtails danced freely around her head, the deep scowl plastered on her face a stark contrast to her innocent-looking demeanor.

At the sight of Mickey, she recoiled, shrieking a terrible, two-toned shriek, her high-pitched little girl voice offset by a deep, bass growl. As she screamed, the various rich folk crowded behind Mickey were knocked back onto their bottoms, once again taking Minnie and Princess Anna with them to the floor.

The ghost girl zoomed through the air, coming to a sudden halt maybe an inch before Mickey Mouse’s nose.

You,” she boomed.

The force of her voice pushed Mickey back; he fell to the ground and scrambled away from her, but the specter’s attention now focused fully on the mouseketeer. Her glare cut through him, and he turned away, unsure exactly what significance he bore to the ghost but feeling his stomach twisting and turning mysteriously at the very sight of her.

“For years I have wandered the realm of spirits,” she hissed, “searching high and low for one person. And now… at last… I’ve found you.”

She reached forward with a pale, white hand, and Mickey felt his throat close up as she tightened her grip on the air in front of her. He choked, and she approached, edging ever closer until something unknown pulled her attention away.

“What?!” she boomed to no one in particular. “But I have him!”

Frustratedly, she loosened her grip on his throat and whipped towards him, closing the gap between them. “I will find you again,” she warned, “Mickey Mouse.”

And she spun into nothingness, disappearing in a puff of snow-colored smoke.

This Post: 1101 words (according to Google Docs)
Total Quest Words: 2056/5000
 

Mickey Mouse

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After the pair of zombie skeletons and ghost girl crashed the party, any sort of hype vibe began to dissuade. To replace it, a distinct, shady paranoia crept over the guests, the kind that seemed to populate every affluent social gathering since the royal family had been ruthlessly murder and King Tyree VI left to rule on his own.

For his part, Mickey Mouse’s brief moment of heroism had been fleeting. Cheers and looks of admirations over how he’d absolutely trounced those skeleton dudes had quickly faded in favor of side-eye and gossipy whispers as he passed. The ghost girl’s fixation on the mouse, who’d just been a normal musketeer not a half hour ago, had become the party’s social focal point, and for once, the young swordsman found himself not at all inclined to be the subject of conversation.

He slipped quietly out of the party and into an adjacent hall, close enough to hear if anything else dastardly started to happen but far enough away that he could be alone.

“For years I have wandered the spirit realm, searching for one person.”

The ghost girl’s thoughts echoed in his little, mouse-sized cranium.

“I will find you again… Mickey Mouse.”

How had she known his name? Or who he was at all? He didn’t recognize her one bit. How was it that she not only seemed to know exactly who he was, but also had been ‘searching’ for him for ‘years’? And what did she even mean by ‘spirit realm’? Mickey’s head spun with questions, and finding himself altogether exhausted thinking about it, he plopped down in a plush chair in the hallway and shut his eyes for a moment, trying his best to re-calibrate himself.

He wasn’t even that important of a musketeer. Most of the time he was a janitor. He just so happened to have been assigned to guard the Lady Minnie today, of all days, at this important party, and happened to be caught dancing with the mysterious foreign dignitary.

Of course -- there was always the possibility it had something to do with Yen Sid’s training. But how many people even knew about that? The musketeers and Minnie knew he’d been away, but he’d followed orders carefully, not revealing to anyone the exact nature of the things he’d studied and learned in his time with the wizard in the tower. Of course, if this spectre somehow had access to some sort of dimension beyond the one they lived in, could they have found out about it… some other way?

A door creaked open, and Mickey jumped. “It’s okay, little guy,” the soothing voice of Princess Anna piped up, “it’s just me.”

“Princess,” Mickey sighed, placing a hand on his chest. His heart was pounding. “You kinda scared me there.”

The princess giggled. “Oh, please,” she smiled, “after how you handled those skeletons? I doubt a measly princess like myself could do anything remotely scary to you. You’re quite the impressive musketeer, Mickey.”

If the mousketeer could’ve blushed, he would have.

“Thanks,” he grinned, curling into himself a bit. For a moment, Anna leaned against the wall opposite, just watching the mouse as he stared off down the hallway. Her expression quickly shifted from relief at seeing him to intense worry.

“Thinking about that strange ghost?” she said, approaching him and dropping into a crouch, getting on his level.

“I just…” he started, glancing back at Anna and making eye contact with her. “I’m nobody, Anna. What could she want with me?”

“Well, I would tell you not to worry,” the redhead shrugged, “…but she seemed to imply that you’d find out sooner or later.” Mickey huffed in frustration. That much was certain.

This Post: 607 words, according to Google Docs.
Total Quest Words: 2663/5000.
 

Mickey Mouse

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Two weeks later, and life in Arcadia clipped along at the normal pace. The occasional incident popped up and called for the musketeers’ attention, but for the most part, nothing too out of the ordinary. No ghost girls, no zombie skeletons…

Well, none in plain sight, anyway. Mickey Mouse had been kept up almost every night, plagued by nightmares of that girl’s face. Who was she? What did she want with him? He tossed and turned in his smaller-than-normal bunk, trying to find some peace but never being able to burn the image of the girl’s tortured visage from his mind. She’d seemed… oddly familiar to him, in a way he couldn’t quite explain, but he knew he’d never seen the likes of her before. Heck, he’d never even seen a ghost in general before, let alone that specific one!

The sleepless nights were beginning to have an effect on his work, too. He’d been assigned to be Lady Minnie Mouse’s personal bodyguard for the past few weeks -- something-something she felt especially in danger with the weird zombie creature sighting, and wanted someone she trusted by her side -- but between their sketchy history and his lack of proper rest, she wasn’t exactly getting his most attentive version of himself.

“Mickey,” she muttered.

He snoozed, sliding down his seat across from her in the royal carriage.

“Mickey!” she said, louder.

Nothing.

Mickey, dangit!” she half-whispered, half-yelled, kicking him in the shin with one of her golden high heels.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, shuffling to an upright position and placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. “What’s wrong, milady? Are we under attack?!”

Minnie Mouse scowled. “No, you dope,” she crossed her arms, “but I will not have you sleeping on the job. I personally requested you. If I’m injured or -- heaven forbid -- killed on your watch, not only will you be disgraced, but people will think I’m an actual idiot. Both of our reputations are at stake here, so do your job.” She turned defiantly away, glancing out the window. Mickey’s suddenly-alert face drooped into an ashamed frown.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, simply.

“Already bad enough that I had to basically stick my neck out to get you since that new ginger princess wanted you on her detail so badly,” Minnie scoffed, obviously talking about Princess Anna. The chipper girl from Inverxe had requested Mickey’s presence for the duration of her visit with the King and his advisors, but Minnie had resisted admirably, and eventually, the princess had acquiesced. Mickey didn’t know which duty he would’ve preferred -- he certainly had personal reasons to want to spend more time around Minnie, but he would’ve liked to know exactly what was going on behind closed doors between Anna and Tyree. Certainly she would’ve told him, but they hadn’t been able to see each other for more than passing moments since the welcome ball, and now her extended trip was probably almost done.

That being said, he had quite enjoyed the feeling of Minnie’s metaphorical claws being dug into him. Could she, perhaps, be a bit… jealous?

Something about that idea made his insides get all a-flutter.

Ka-thunk.

Mickey bounced off the seat as the carriage passed over a particularly large bump, and Minnie braced herself on one of the door handles for support.

“What the heck was--” she started to ask, but suddenly the door she was hanging onto swung open, and she was flung out of the carriage, rolling onto the cobblestone pavement.

“Lady Minnie!” Mickey shouted, leaping into action. He darted for the door and made to jump out, but suddenly felt a strange chill up his spine as something lifted his collar up and threw him towards the clouds. He scrambled in mid-air, swinging his limbs madly as he tried to find something to grasp onto, but it was fruitless. Just as he began to fall, he felt some sort of magic pause his descent, and he hung, limp, in the sky above the streets of Arcadia. “What… the… heck?!” he called, glancing down, and there, hovering above the carriage, was the mysterious ghost girl, her palm facing him, tensed.

So she had some magic, eh? Well, so did he.

Abracadabra,” he muttered, and wooden planks ripped away from the top of the carriage and flew at the ghost girl. They passed through her, phasing through her body as if it was nothing more than a few gathered wisps of smoke, and flew upwards, soaring towards the suspended mouse. He tried to dodge them, but the ghost girl’s spell kept him frozen in place, and one by one the planks smacked into him, knocking him about in mid-air.

The spectre’s attention turned to the front of the caravan of carriages, and she abruptly released Mickey from her grasp, sending him -- already a tad dizzy from the impact of the boards -- plummeting to the ground. He crashed into a cart of hay with a thump, scrambling out of it as quickly as his probably-concussed mind could manage.

He clambered out of the cart, landing just barely on his feet and giving chase to the girl. She flew much faster than he could run, but he unsheathed his rapier and picked up his pace to a sprint, just fast enough to keep her in his sights.

She finally stopped as she neared the king’s golden cart at the front of the caravan, and Mickey skidded to a stop.

“His Majesty,” the mouse muttered, trying his best to come up with something to do to help the boy he was sworn to protect. He mused for a few moments as the ghost girl inched closer to King Tyree’s carriage, and an idea popped into his head.

That’s a terrible idea, he told himself, but the mysterious child was almost upon the king.

Oh, to heck with it!

Abracadabra!” he shouted again, pushing his palm out in front of him and focusing all his might into his gloved fingers. The king’s cart tipped, then fell completely over, thundering to the ground with a huge boom. Caught off-guard, the ghost girl turned and glanced back at Mickey, and a scowl crossed her young face. The mouse grimaced back, bending his knees and lowering into a fighting stance.

He didn’t exactly know how he planned to fight a ghost, but he supposed now was as good a time as ever to find out.

This Post: 1068 words, according to Google Docs.
Total Quest Words: 3731/5000.
 
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