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The village was alive with noise and chatter – villagers walking from house to house, bumblebees fluttering over the gardens to fertilize the plants, vendors calling out their sales in the marketplace. Horses trotted along the path with their riders, sheep bleated in their pens, and cows lowed in the pastures.
Blue led his friends through the small marketplace, towards Fletcher's house. He'd been bored that day and decided to drag his friends along with him to visit his friends in the small village he and Yellow had saved from the titan ravager, raid, and ultimately, King Orange, a few years ago.
“Lovely day out,” Yellow observed, straightening his glasses as he leaned over to examine the beautiful green jewels that were displayed on a vendor's booth. He straightened, sighing. “As much as I hate to admit, thanks for bringing us along, Blue.”
Blue shrugged. “It was the only way I could drag Green off of that phone.”
“Hey.” Green lightly punched him on the arm. “I'm not…always on it anyway.”
“Yes, you are,” everyone chorused.
“Oh, come on!” Green threw his hands up in the air, defeated. “I give up…”
An excited gasp came from Red. “Guys! Look!” He raced to one of the animal pens. “Sniffers!” He motioned for the Gang to take a look. “I didn't know they had sniffers here!”
Orange peered into the pen. There were three sniffers – two fully-grown, one small-sized. They were cute, but they made him sneeze. (Blue told him he was allergic.) So he kept his distance.
“What do they have sniffers for, I wonder?” Yellow inquired.
Blue just shrugged. “I dunno. Fletcher's last letter told me they're getting some new stuff around here.”
There were three close friends that Blue as well as Yellow had in this village – Fletcher, Fisher, and Farmer, often called “the three musketeers” by the rest of the gang. He'd been keeping in touch with them via letters back and forth, and they often wrote about updates that took place in the village. The most recent one had invited Blue and his buddies to lunch that afternoon, which is why they were there in the first place.
“Can we go now?” Green asked, his voice filled with boredom. “I'm hungry.”
“Just wait, Green.” Orange nudged Green's arm. “Fletcher's house is just down the path, right, Blue?”
Blue nodded. “Yep.” He pointed. “Let's go. They'll be waiting for us.”
He led them down the path, past the shops, and through the village to Fletcher's house. Once there, he knocked on the door.
When the door opened, the friendly smile of Fisher greeted them.
“Ayyy, boys!” he said cheerfully, opening the door fully so they could all come in. “Thank you for coming.”
“We’re glad to be here.” Blue and Fisher exchanged a handshake.
After Fletcher and Farmer came out to greet them, they all sat down in the dining room to eat the meal that Fisher had prepared – delicious fish and chips.
They talked as they ate, enjoying the food as well as the stories Farmer told. Red's favorite was when he told how they found the family of sniffers on a hunting trip.
It wasn't long until they brought up Beast, the young Titan Ravager that resided in the outskirts of the village, just through the forest and across the canyon.
“He's doing quite well, actually,” Fletcher said in response to Blue’s inquiry. “He eats like crazy! Not to mention his family – we've had to travel to the cave twice a week to restock their food. They're a handful, but they do keep the Pillagers away.”
“Pillagers?” Green set his cup down abruptly. “There's pillagers here?”
“There's Pillagers everywhere, kid,” Farmer chimed in. “They've been attacking villages across the world. Raids are growing more frequent. We've had to take in several refugees from different villages in different biomes.”
“What do they want?” Red asked, his eyes wide.
“Mostly loot. Treasures, gold, emeralds, the like,” Fisher stepped in. “But what they really want are slaves. Ultimately, fear and power among the villages.”
Orange crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “Just like your average Disney villain,” he murmured, getting a snicker out of Green.
“It’s not funny,” Blue snapped, smacking Green in the leg. “I've been a hostage before in a raid. I know what that fear feels like.” He shuddered. “Completely awful, what the Illagers do to these poor, innocent, defenseless people…” His gaze flickered to the window, where he could see the village outside Fletcher's house.
Red chuckled nervously. “Raids…raids don't come here, do they?”
“You never know,” Yellow replied. “They could happen at any moment. Gotta be on the lookout and ready for anything.”
Red gulped.
The room fell into an awkward, uncomfortable silence.
“Anyway,” Fisher said, breaking the silence, “I've got dessert. Does anyone want cake?”
~~~
Horns.
Horns, in the distance. Drums, too.
Rumbling.
Rumbling growing louder and louder.
Shouting…yelling…screaming.
Blue woke up with a start. He sat up, glancing around the room.
In the little cabin that he and the Gang shared for the night, through the small window, he could see lights. Flickering lights. Torches. Shadows, dancing along the walls of the cabin.
He steadily crept out of bed, making his way to the window and peering out to the horizon.
A large mob. Angry, shouting, attacking.
The blades of swords and axes flickered in the moonlight. A banner was raised among the marching army – one of the Pillagers.
A raid. A raid was happening, right here, right now.
Blue hurried to wake everyone up. “Guys,” he hissed. “Get up.” He kicked Green in the stomach, waking him immediately.
“OOF – ughh, Blue, what’s the…” Green sat up and blinked.
“Get your weapons. The village is under attack.” Blue fished around for his bow and quiver of arrows. By now, everyone was wide awake.
“Ugh! The staff!” Yellow grunted with frustration. “If only I had it!”
“It's your fault you got in trouble and had it taken away,” Red shot back.
“Ugh.”
Bow loaded, Blue opened the door and stepped out, scanning the village. The Pillagers had not fully arrived yet, so he had some time.
People had gathered in the center around the well, frightened and panicking. Little children clung to their mothers, crying at the scary lights marching down the path.
Blue examined the crowd. His eyes met Fletcher's, and they both nodded.
“Everyone to the shelter,” Fletcher shouted. Fisher and Farmer began to help herd the villagers into the cave under the hill, the haven of safety in case anything like this happened.
The Pillagers were getting closer.
Orange, Yellow, Green, and Red stood by Blue's side, ready to fight.
Blue drew back his arrow, selected a target, and released.
He hit his target square in the neck.
This seemed to trigger the mob. The captain roared with anger, yelling at his soldiers to charge.
And charge they did.
Blue released arrow after arrow. Orange and Green used fishing rods to capture the opponents, reel them in, and finish them off with a cut to the throat with their swords. Yellow wielded a staff. It wasn't King's staff, but it worked. Red fought with a sword and sometimes his bare hands.
The battle continued to draw on, fifty men against five stick figures. It wasn't long until Blue discovered he was running out of arrows.
He spotted one sticking out of the ground just a few yards away. Running towards it, he somersaulted under a leaping Ravager, snatching the arrow from the ground and using it to shoot the Ravager straight in its stomach.
Now that he was officially out of arrows, he picked up one of the swords that a Pillager had dropped and used that.
Half of the mob was on the ground within the next several minutes. Watching his friends between slashing another pillager, Blue noticed Orange becoming more weary. Green was getting angrier. Yellow's staff snapped in half. Red was pinned to the ground.
Blue rushed in to defend Red, letting out a battle cry and thrusting his sword through the Pillager holding Red back, then through the other. The sword came away stained with blood.
Blue offered his hand to Red, who'd fallen to the ground. “You alright?”
“No??” Red shouted back, pushing Blue's hand away. His eyes suddenly went wide, gaze fixed on something behind Blue. “Blue, move!” he shrieked.
But by then it was too late.
Red watched in horror as the arrow pierced straight into Blue's shoulder.
~~~
From where he was standing, Yellow couldn't tell what was happening. He just knew he saw, through broken and cracked glasses, what looked like an arrow drive through Blue's shoulder. Then, as if in slow motion, Blue began to sway and fall.
“No!” Yellow tripped, catching Blue just before he fell to the ground. Red was there, paralyzed with fear. “Green! Orange!” he shouted to the two, who were still busy fighting, as he stumbled underneath Blue's weight. “Blue’s down!”
Green and Orange exchanged glances. Orange motioned to the haven as Green rushed to help Yellow hold Blue up. Blue let out a weak whimper when Green stepped in.
Without looking, Green tossed his sword straight into a Pillager's face so both his hands were free. Together, he and Yellow rushed Blue into the haven. Red and Orange followed close behind, fighting off the last of the Pillagers.
Metal doors burst open. Fletcher and Fisher made sure they were barricaded and locked as the Gang made their way inside, Green and Yellow stumbling under Blue's weight.
“What happened?!” Fletcher demanded.
“What does it look like, dummy??!!” Green shrieked back. Fletcher frowned back.
“Lay him here,” Yellow said, motioning to a wooden table. Carefully, the two of them laid him on his side. Blue moaned with pain and discomfort.
Yellow rolled up his sleeves. “We need to get the arrow out,” he mumbled, trying to recall everything the village doctor (who, unfortunately, had passed away in the recent months) told him in times like this. Biting on his lip, he gingerly took the tip of the arrow (which had been driven right through Blue's shoulder) and snapped the arrowhead off.
Blue screamed weakly. Green winced, gently holding Blue's hands down so he couldn't move. Orange covered his eyes.
“Ugh, no, please,” he groaned with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Seeing his friends in pain always gave him a sense of nausea.
Yellow tossed the arrowhead aside. “Red,” he called. “Get him some water…” He lightly gripped the arrow shaft, triggering a scream from Blue. He winced. “A-and something to bite down on. This is gonna hurt.”
“Y-yellow…?”
Blue whimpered helplessly, tensing up and curling in on himself from the agonizing pain he was feeling. Green struggled to keep him down.
Red was still wide-eyed and shaking, but he retrieved a bowl of water and a piece of wood. Yellow took the wood and held it to Blue's lips. Blue moaned and whimpered, gasping for breath as he shied away.
“Blue. I need you to cooperate with me. Please,” he said.
Face streaked with tears, Blue finally let Yellow slide the wood in.
Once that was settled, Yellow took a firm grip on the shaft. A muffled scream came from Blue. “Orange,” Yellow said, “get ready to stem the bleeding.”
“Wait, what?!” Orange shrieked.
“Just do as I say,” Yellow barked. Orange winced, then snatched a blanket from the ground.
Red took Blue's shaking hand and gave it a squeeze.
Yellow took a deep breath, gripping the arrow shaft tight. “I'm sorry, Blue,” he whispered, before pulling it out.
Blue screamed. Shrieking, thrashing, sobbing from the agonizing, horrific pain. Green held him still, ripping the fabric of Blue's shirt so Orange could slip in to stem the blood.
The blood, however, didn't stop flowing. After a while, Blue was starting to struggle to breathe, his attempts to fight against Green's hold growing weaker.
“H-he's getting cold,” Red sobbed, gripping Blue's hand. He tried to ignore the blood dripping through the boards on the table. “Yellow, he's cold.”
Orange pressed harder. Blue's shriek was weak and muffled.
“You have to close the wound,” Fletcher was saying. “Sew it up or something.”
“I don't know how to do that!” Yellow cried, struggling to fight tears. If something happened to Blue…if he died…he'd never forgive himself. Ever. He was beginning to feel dizzy. Just seeing all that blood made him lightheaded. He tried to think.
Scanning the room, he spotted the fire that had been started to warm things up, then a stick poking out of it. An idea struck his mind. It was risky, but to save Blue, he had to move fast.
He glanced at Fletcher.
Fletcher nodded.
He raced over, pulling the stick out of the fire. Making sure it was still hot, he rushed back to the table.
“Green, move.”
“Whuh–”
The end of the burning stick met with the wound on Blue's skin. Blue gasped before screaming again.
Hissss.
Yellow swallowed a scream as he moved to the other side of the table, pressing the stick to the wound on Blue's front shoulder.
Blue shrieked with pain, tears and sweat dripping off his face. His breath shallow, he shuddered before his eyes closed, going still.
Red let out a sob. “B-Blue…? No, no, no…Blue…”
Orange backed away from the table before turning to Yellow, face almost red with fury. “Yellow, you idiot!” he yelled angrily, grabbing Yellow’s collar. “What was that for?! You killed him!”
“It w-was to stem the bleeding!” Yellow's cries of defense were weakened by a sob and whimpers. “I was trying to heal–”
“Y-you…” Orange let him go, breathless, then turned back to Blue. He sobbed helplessly. “You didn't help…”
A wave of silence.
Orange sank to the ground, exhausted. Yellow leaned against the wall, dropping the stick to the ground. He stared at Blue on the table, a puddle of his own blood still dripping. Red, still gripping Blue's hand, sobbing and begging for him to come back. Green, standing over the table, hands still holding Blue's arm, frozen in shock.
…
But then, a gasp. A sharp inhale. A cough.
Yellow looked up. Blue had raised his head, eyes fluttering open, movement returning to his stiff body. He closed his eyes with a sigh, sliding slowly to the ground, slack with relief.
Red let out a half-laugh, half-sob, standing up, hand still gripping Blue's. “Blue, you're okay…”
Blue smiled weakly. “Red,” he whispered.
After a few moments, Green helped him sit up on the table before pulling him into a tight embrace. Red joined, and so did Orange, all laughing from relief and sobbing tears of joy.
Yellow did, too. “Blue, I'm so sorry for hurting you, I… I was just trying to…”
“No, no, no,” Blue cut in, voice still weak. “It's okay. You did the right thing.” He pushed his forehead up against Yellow's, an act of forgiveness and affection. “It's okay.”
Yellow just pulled him in for a hug.
When the sun came out, Green and Yellow helped Blue stand to his feet, allowing him to use them as a crutch as they walked out of the haven and into the village, which was now free from danger. Villagers flocked into the courtyard and scattered into their homes, returning back to the daily routine.
“Get some rest,” Fisher was telling the boys. “Don't let Blue do anything for at least a week. Please.”
Blue smiled.
Green chuckled. “We won't.”
Orange shook the musketeers’ hands. “Thank you for everything,” he said to each of them. “For lunch and dinner and a place to stay.”
“No problem,” Fletcher replied. “Be safe on your journey home.”
“Take care of yourselves,” Farmer added.
Orange nodded. “We will. Goodbye.”
The three waved to see them off. Orange headed down the path, following his friends, slinging an arm around Red's shoulder.
“What'll we tell Alan?” Red asked.
“That Blue almost died?” Green suggested.
“That we fought an army of Pillagers attacking the village,” Yellow added without missing a beat.
“That Yellow knows how to pull arrows out of people.” Orange smirked.
“That y'all are a bunch of losers,” Blue said with a weak laugh.
And soon, they were all laughing.