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aurabird · 7 months

Text

Final Sacrifice

Ao3 Link

Spoilers ahead for Owen's recent New Life episode.

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Spread the skulk...Spread the souls...

Those words...those damned words, they echoed in his head during every waking hour, every moment asleep. It was maddening, it was torturous...it had to stop.

Sparrow looked at the massive amounts of explosives before him, rows and piles of red sticks and gunpowder lined every street, every building foundation. This was it, Sparrow knew he should have been scared and yet he only felt regret and anger.

Perhaps...perhaps the skulk had taken such an emotion from him like it had everything else that had once been human.

It couldn't take anything more...he wouldn't let it.

His final farewell and warning rested beyond the now-sealed city gate alongside every recording he ever made, the only things that would prove he had existed; an insignificant human in a world of hybrids and primordial powers beyond comprehension.

Sparrow lit the stick of dynamite in his infected hand and was met with a cacophony of cries from the parasitic fungi that had found its way into his body, his mind, and his soul; begging him to cease his actions, pleading with...no, demanding him to stop.

He didn't listen, and began to walk towards the start of the trail of explosives.

Sparrow winced as he felt the skulk try to further gain control of his motor functions out of desperation to save itself and its chosen host. He could feel the fungal tendrils of the parasite intertwine deeper beneath his skin, pulling against him as he walked closer to the line of explosives. Each step was as if his bones were made of lead and he was walking through molasses.

The faces of those he once knew and those he had met in this land flashed before him as he forced himself to move.

He remembered the good moments, from when he was still human. Memories that he looked back at with a fondness at the joy they had brought him, and melancholy at where...when it had all gone so, so horribly wrong; when he'd changed.

The bad moments were next. He saw the expression of fear on Sausage's face as the Warden struck him down, saw the look of horror in Scott's eyes before the skulk made him take the hybrid's life in the worst way possible. This was for them...ALL of them and anyone else who would stumble upon this accursed and forsaken city.

Control of his limbs was becoming more difficult, his body now almost fully taken over. But in a final act of defiance, Sparrow forced the arm holding the dynamite above his head, turned to face the closed city door...and released his grip.

The skulk screamed as the city went up in flames, pain flaring through every nerve in Sparrows body from how intertwined he had become with the now-burning fungus sending him to his knees.

A single tear dripped from his eyes as he felt the heat wave approach him. Sparrow let out final cry of agony as the explosion engulfed his prone form and then, only darkness. Sweet, blissful, and silent darkness.

He was finally free.

Up on the surface patches of skulk withered, their spread halted by the destruction of the gateway leading from their realm of origin.

While many of the hybrids that once lived in this land had either perished or moved on, their homes now overgrown and reclaimed by nature; those that remained may never know of the great sacrifice that had occurred deep beneath the earth.

But they would all meet again in time, for unknown to all of them, their kindred spirits would find each other and unite once more just as they always did and always will.

#self rb

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aurabird · 7 months

Text

Final Sacrifice

Ao3 Link

Spoilers ahead for Owen's recent New Life episode.

--------------

Spread the skulk...Spread the souls...

Those words...those damned words, they echoed in his head during every waking hour, every moment asleep. It was maddening, it was torturous...it had to stop.

Perhaps...perhaps the skulk had taken such an emotion from him like it had everything else that had once been human.

It couldn't take anything more...he wouldn't let it.

He didn't listen, and began to walk towards the start of the trail of explosives.

The faces of those he once knew and those he had met in this land flashed before him as he forced himself to move.

The skulk screamed as the city went up in flames, pain flaring through every nerve in Sparrows body from how intertwined he had become with the now-burning fungus sending him to his knees.

He was finally free.

Up on the surface patches of skulk withered, their spread halted by the destruction of the gateway leading from their realm of origin.

But they would all meet again in time, for unknown to all of them, their kindred spirits would find each other and unite once more just as they always did and always will.

#new life smp #new life sparrow #owengejuicetv #new life spoilers #newlife smp spoilers #ojtv fanart #my writing

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aurabird · 10 months

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A Search For Belonging

Chapter 10: Shenanigans

In which Xornoth finds himself roped into more pranks and activities

Ao3 Link | Masterpost

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The next few days were mostly uneventful for Xornoth aside from the occasional antics going on in Boatem that he bore witness to.

There was now a dirt structure Scar had built spiraling into the sky and ending right above the Boatem Hole and a strange-but-nevertheless-mind-blowing flying machine in the sky between Mumbo’s base and Midnight Alley. Both new additions being the result of messing with Grian while the avian was in a meditative state.

On top of that, Xornoth had watched Grian remove several black banners placed by the Big Eye’s crew advertising their iron shop, an establishment apparently sponsored by Mumbo himself.

There really was never a dull moment in Boatem.

Today, however, would hopefully be more eventful for Xornoth personally as he made his way over to the Swaggon by Scar’s request. Apparently, his fellow Hermit had something for him, a hat to be specific.

“So I didn’t exactly know what you’d like but given what you have told us and the plans for your base I managed to make something that I really hope you enjoy.” Scar explained as they entered the hat shop.

“If it’s anything like the hats I’ve seen on the others I’m sure it’s amazing, Scar.”

It was true, the hats that every other member of Boatem now wore had been beautifully made and Xornoth was excited to see what Scar had made for him.

“Well, if there’s anything about it that you don’t like I’m perfectly fine with changing it. Are you ready to see?”

“I am.”

At the confirmation Scar grabbed something off a hook behind him and turned around with a dramatic flourish, presenting the hat in question.

Xornoth had expected it to be a crown of some sort as a throwback to the fact Empiria was a land of monarchs. Instead, it was modeled after a sheep wearing a silver circlet on its head, a dopey look in its beady eyes that made it absolutely adorable.

A smile crossed his face at the sight, “Scar…I love it.”

“Oh thank goodness!” Scar sighed in relief as Xornoth took the hat from him to get a closer look, “I was so nervous that I would trigger a bad memory or something with the crown on its head and all! I hope it fits, it's a bit hard to design something for a person with antlers, you know?”

“Only one way to find out.” Xornoth said before turning to a mirror on the wall and putting the hat on, finding it fit perfectly between the growths on his head and making his smile grow even wider at just how perfect it seemed to match him.

After leaving the Hat Shop and making his way back to the central area of Boatem Xornoth noticed the giant sign that read ‘Octagon’ that was now a part of the long-legged monstrosity that was selling things on Boatem’s coast.

The voices of Grian and Impulse then reached his ears, the former sounding very annoyed compared to usual.

As the two Hermits in question came into view Xornoth was able to see why. The Octagon sign wasn’t the only advertisement in Boatem, every other establishment with the exception of Horse-Head Farms had left something in the village square.

“...advertise and bring people here. Oh look, it's Xornoth!”

“Hey you guys. What are you two up to?”

“First off, I love your hat.” Grian began with a smile, “And secondly, I’ve got a really good idea for marketing! We just have to decide who we’re going to do it to”

“Is this…aggressive marketing?” Impulse asked.

“It is very in-your-face marketing.”

“Oh I love it.”

“Oooh, so we just have to pick someone then right?” Xornoth questioned.

Grian nodded, “Well we’ve got Octagon, Rons, the Evil Emporium, and Cleo who all think its fine to advertise here so we can definitely advertise there.”

After several minutes of back-and-forth chatter and Impulse darting off to gather several shulkers of logs Xornoth and Grian found themselves over at the Octagon atop a platform the latter Grian had constructed above the shop.

“I don’t exactly know if this is going to work the way I think it’s going to work.” Grian admitted as he began to build.

“Yeah, how exactly do you have this in your head?” Xornoth questioned.

“Redstone.” Grian finished as he placed two observers and a dispenser down; the latter component beginning to activate as it got a signal. “There. Stage one is complete.”

Impulse arrived with the shulkers of requested logs and Grian was quick to explain how his plan would work as he began to craft several boats, shrinking them to a smaller size and then tossing them into a hopper that had been placed above the firing dispenser.

Xornoth laughed with Impulse as he watched the component spit the boats back out at full size, instantly dropping them down into the shop below and causing several stacks to begin forming.

“Now we just take this to the extreme!” Grian cackled with devious glee at the flawless execution of his plan.

The trio went on to ‘boat bomb’ Big Eyes Bay, this time letting the boats all occupy the same spot as opposed to letting them spread out. Once finished, they settled down on the nearby mountainside and waited for one of the residents to investigate the prank. It wasn’t long before Tango showed up and proceeded to cause all the boats to explode in every direction.

Roaring laughter resounded from the three members of Boatem at the display, “That was SO MUCH faster than I expected it to be!” Grian exclaimed.

After they had managed to compose themselves they flew down to greet Tango, the half-blazeborn now thoroughly flustered. “Buy at Boatem!” Grian laughed before proceeding to hop around on the many boats in the water, Xornoth and Impulse following suit.

“I will remember this!” Tango threatened with a grin, caught up in laughing himself as he joined in on the boat-hopping antics, everyone getting stuck between the wooden vessels occasionally.

After a farewell to Tango the trio took off, returning to their original plans for the day. Xornoth landed in the center of New Rivendell with a massive smile on his face and was more than energized to build the storage building he had planned so that he could finally move all his resources from his house and various other random locations strewn about the mountain, into one dedicated place.

Xornoth had spent most of the following morning preparing for the long, arduous process of moving and sorting his items into the now-finished storage building and decided to take a break to check the Boatem group chat to see if he’d missed any messages while he had been working. Scrolling up to the last message he read, two Mumbo had sent earlier caught his eye.

<MumboJumbo> errr guys

<MumboJumbo> the boatem hole has bedrock in it

Xornoth looked at the image sent in the chat and was confused. He knew bedrock didn’t simply regenerate, be it through magic or otherwise and it prompted him to go check it out for himself after putting all his gear and supplies into his enderchest.

Even if bedrock had once again sealed up the hole into the void, Xornoth wasn’t going to take any chances. He wasn’t procrastinating, that would be nonsense.

Upon his arrival to the scene Xornoth dared to look down into the Boatem Hole and, just like Mumbo had said, the area that normally led to the void was once again covered in bedrock.

Curious, he decided to descend into the depths to investigate the strange phenomenon, setting his feet down on the layer of bedrock…

…and falling through immediately after.

Xornoth let out a panicked yelp as he tried to stabilize, but to no avail as his wings did not react fast enough. The inky blackness of the void filled his lungs, suffocating him; waves of pain flaring through his entire body as he was pulled further down into the abyss.

Xornoth fell out of the world

He jolted awake in his bed with a gasp, panting heavily as he took in fresh air. His communicator pinged multiple times in quick succession as he recovered from the traumatic respawn, no doubt Hermits worried about him. He quickly shot a message in the chat saying he was fine and that he didn’t lose anything except a bit of pride.

Once the post-mortem effects had worn off Xornoth got out of bed and figured that he already decided that he would not actually move everything into his storage building today so, he may as well just fly around and see what the other Hermits were up to.

Again, definitely not procrastinating at all, he just needed to interact more with his fellow Hermits outside of Boatem.

His flight took him to various locations to try and find Hermits to interact with and Xornoth found himself roped up in a game he’d never heard of before known as Leaf Spleef with Cub, Joe, and Cleo, getting to know them better in the process. It was nice, to be able to just goof around and have fun without any real responsibility or a kingdom to eventually run.

The sun had begun to set by the time he had begun to make his way back to Boatem, flying over Big-Eyes bay and seeing it still covered in boats.

As Xornoth passed over the Evil Emporium, the one shop he never really visited often since most of his supplies were easy to harvest himself, he took notice of the individual pacing in front of the stairs, red armor contrasted against a deepslate and blackstone building with a glass orb atop it.

Curious to talk to the one Hermit he knew so little about, Xornoth descended, landing a bit away from Exiel before approaching.

“Um…hi?” He began in greeting, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I was just passing through on my way back to Boatem and saw you pacing; thought I might as well take the chance to speak with you since you’re like, the only Hermit I have had no interactions with at all.”

Exiel turned to him, red eyes meeting Xornoth’s own and causing the elf to freeze up. He could almost picture veins of crimson marring the voidkind’s skin under the armor, pulsating with dark power that drove the corrupted individual to madness and…

“Oh, you're the elf they recently adopted.”

The blunt remark snapped Xornoth from his spiraling thoughts and back to reality, “Uh….yeah. That’s me, I’m Xornoth.”

“Well, Xornoth. Welcome to my humble abode I suppose. And no, I’m just frustrated at my stupid brother installing a machine at Octagon that completely ruins the entire point of the Hermits buying derpcoin from the Emporium!”

Xornoth let out a chuckle, “Brothers, am I right?”

The comment made Exiel give him a quizzical look, “You have a brother too?”

“I do. We aren’t as close anymore though, not like we were before destiny and fate tore us apart for the sake of prophecy.”

“‘Suma and I weren’t as close as we are now, you know. I resented my brother and what he had so I found myself aligned with a malicious individual who convinced me that the solution to my problem was to embrace it and destroy everything that Xisuma knew. I tried for many years but deep down I had started to grow fond of the band of misfits and runaways he surrounded himself with and began to realize that what I was doing was wrong. After everything I’d done though, I felt I had no chance at forgiveness so I banished myself to wallow in my own pity. When I came crawling back to Xisuma I was desperate for purpose, I never expected forgiveness from him, let alone the invitation to join the Hermits…but here I am, I suppose. If there was hope for me to redeem myself, then there’s probably hope for you and your brother as well.”

Xornoth gave a bittersweet smile, “It’s a nice thought, but Scott probably thinks I’m dead and after everything I did to him and those he called his friends, redemption and forgiveness are no longer an option for me.” he paused a moment before continuing, “But it’s fine, I have all the Hermits now. After decades of being a pawn of destiny, I am finally free to do whatever I want, to be my own person with my own choices.”

A sly grin crossed Exiel’s face at Xornoth’s words, “Well, how about you use that freedom to make your own choices and buy something with that Derpcoin my brother gave you a while back?”

A laugh escaped Xornoth at the comment, “I blew it all buying wood at Octagon for the boat bomb prank we did there and at Big-Eyes Bay.”

“You realize that you buying the wood from them is a win in their eyes, right?”

“Yes, but it was hilarious all the same. Grian is debating hitting up this place next you know? Perhaps, if you give me some derpcoin I can convince him to spare you guys?~”

“You’ve been hanging around with Scar too much. You’re picking up on his marketing habits.”

Xornoth smiled, “I’m only joking, we will probably hit Big-Eyes bay for the bedrock fiasco next.” he tossed two of the diamonds he’d won from Leaf Spleef earlier to Exiel, “How much derpcoin will that get me?”

A few derpcoin richer, Xornoth bid farewell to Exiel and continued to make his way back to Boatem, landing on the balcony of his house and going inside to freshen up as the moon began to cast its glow on the land below.

Before he settled down for the night he checked to see what he’d missed in the main and Boatem chats.

<Grian> Who’s up for getting back at Big-Eyes Bay tomorrow?

<ImpulseSV> I’m in!

<MumboJumbo> Same

<GoodTimeWithScar> Can’t, was invited to test the horse course with Bdubs and Etho.

<Grian> No worries. Xornoth, are you up for more pranking?

Xornoth, feeling bad he’d missed most of the conversation typed out his response

<Xornoth> Sorry for the late reply, I was busy most of today. Definitely in; dying to the void this morning was the worst.

With his message sent, Xornoth silenced his communicator and called it for the night, looking forward to the pranking of Big Eyes bay…

…and still denying that it was an excuse to get out of moving everything into his storage building.

#empires smp #hermitcraft #hermitcraft x empires #empiresblr #hermitblr #Xornoth #empires xornoth #grian #impulseSV #goodtimeswithscar #evil xisuma #a search for belonging #My writing

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aurabird · 1 year

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Desperate Measures

Sparrow attempts a risky experiment on himself out of his desperation for abilities. The results of his efforts are nothing short of painful and traumatizing.

Owen’s latest New Life episode gave me many thoughts so I bring you this.

Tw: Implied body modification, body horror, self-experimentation.

Ao3 Link

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Sparrow checked the machine for what was probably at least the hundredth time. It had to work perfectly, otherwise...

...he didn’t want to think about the outcome of what would happen if just one of the mechanisms was even the slightest bit off, shaking the unbidden horrific images from his head.

Everything was in order, yet a sense of dread washed over him. He was desperate...so, so desperate, for some kind of power, ANY kind of power.

Gaining abilities after death was not a certainty, for while some of the residents in this land had in fact in fact died and simply come back with different abilities, they were hybrids to begin with. He was only human, nothing more; there was no way he could be sure what brought them back would work on him.

He could have approached this in some other way of course, it had crossed his mind to simply experiment on the hybrids in this land and try and figure out what made them what they were so that he could then replicate it.

But he’d shot that idea down instantly at the image of Scott in a cage laying in his own blood, the carefree and joyful glow in his heterochromatic eyes dulled from being drugged or tortured. No, Sparrow could never do something like that to him; or any of the other hybrids he’d met for that matter.

That’s what led him down the path he had gone. If he refused to experiment on hybrids then he would experiment on himself instead.

It began to rain as he shakily approached the chamber, trying to ignore the various devices that would dig into him once he sealed his fate.

The door of the chamber closed once he was inside, his back against cold metal. Restraints clamped around his wrists and ankles, a precaution to ensure he would not struggle.

The walls shut around him, casting darkness over everything. Sparrow was alone now with only his fear and mechanical whirring sounds for company.

All at once pain shot through every atom in his body. It was like he was being torn apart and then pieced back together on a molecular level. He supposed, that probably was exactly what was happening to him, given what he designed the machine to do.

Sparrow could not fight back the reflex urge to cry out in sheer agony as the machine worked, even though the scream was simply swallowed up by the sounds of everything else.

The worst part of everything was that Sparrow could feel the overwhelming energy that came with having far too many conflicting powers, feel his body try and adjust to the changes being made to his DNA.

Everything hurt, everything burned. Sparrow just wanted it all to stop! Please! Make it stop!

Once more a cry was wrenched from his throat, this time followed by a resounding BANG as behind his closed eyelids Sparrow saw a flash of white, felt the warmth of the explosion that had occurred.

And then he was on the ground, sobs racking his body as he cried, curled up tightly in a ball for comfort.

Elemental particles of all kinds swirled around him, parts of his body ever-shifting between various stages of corporeal. Two pairs of wings had torn free from his back, the feathers and leathery membranes coated in a deep crimson; feline ears were pressed flat against his head, curling horns nestled between them.

Even his scaled tail thrashed with discomfort and pain.

Sparrow forced himself to open his eyes, finding his vision was mismatched. From one eye, he could see color; from the other, only monochrome shades.

It was then that the horrifying realization of what he’d done in his desperation finally dawned on him.

He’d introduced several types of hybrid and fauna DNA into his own without any care for what it may do to him.

He almost didn’t want to see what he’d turned himself into, the newfound feeling of appendages he definitely did not have prior to stepping into the machine and the fact that his body felt like it was floating but also on fire told him everything he needed to know.

Despite his fear, Sparrow began to crawl; away from the machine behind him, away from what he knew were several sharp objects stained with his own blood. He made his way over to the edge of the peninsula he called home, towards the ocean to get a look at himself.

He tried to ignore the fact his arms were not human anymore.

Cool water lapped against his webbed and scaled fingers as grass turned into sand. The ocean called to him, yet his instincts also told him to get far, far away from it.

The face that reflected back was still his, save his mismatched eyes and the horns and ears. At least some of his facial features from before had remained; he didn’t want to think about what would have happened if no one realized that he was still Sparrow.

He then turned to inspect the rest of him, being met with the sight of something not human nor hybrid; some kind of chimeric, humanoid creature.

This was the price for his hubris...and it was something he’d have to live with for the rest of his life.

That was all it took for him to break. Sparrow curled into a ball once more and wept, his sobs the only thing audible underneath the static that filled his still-ringing ears.

He didn’t know how long he lay there in the sand, but soon another sound aside from his sobs could be heard. Were those...voices?

Sparrow opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, only a hiccup and a gasp. He could feel nothing but pain, couldn’t see anything but a mess of colors blurred by tears. If someone...or something was here, maybe they would just put him out of his misery.

A whisper of reassurance and a brief flash of orange and cyan broke through the fog of his mind, a familiar face...before everything went black.

#new life smp #new life sparrow #nlsmp #nlsmp sparrow #My writing #you cannot tell me Sparrow just splices several different types of DNA into his own #and comes out perfectly fine with no side effects at all #his body would either reject the cells or adapt to them #hence the chimera he becomes #tw body horror #tw experimentation #tw body modification

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aurabird · 1 year

Photo

The design of Xornoth’s wing prosthetic as seen in my fic A Search For Belonging

The damaged wing is what Xornoth’s looked like pre-prosthetic compared to what they used to look like and the bottom is with the prosthetic on.

Basically, the prosthetic ‘arm’ itself is like an exoskeleton and attached to a modified elytra harness so that it doesn’t just come off the wing from the general motions of flight. Attached to the framework are artificial feathers that tuck right under the coverts. Special sensors in the joints of the brace detect muscle movement so the wings fold and open as they would normally.

Also, as for Xornoth’s wings in general. They’re based off those of a great grey owl.

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aurabird · 1 year

Text

A Search For Belonging

Chapter 9: Wings and Things

Xornoth pays Doc a visit and learns more about the past and present antics of his new family.

Ao3 Link | Masterpost

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Xornoth awoke to the smell of food and stretched a little before getting out of bed and making his way downstairs.

“Morning Xornoth!” Ren greeted with a smile, “Hope you don’t mind but I made some breakfast as I missed dinner last night. There’s some extra if you want it.”

Xornoth returned the expression, Ren’s cheery demeanor contagious, “Not at all.” he replied, putting a few pancakes on a plate and joining his fellow Hermit at the table, “Thanks.”

After finishing breakfast and cleaning up Xornoth found himself following Ren down to the shoreline and joining him in a small rowboat for the ride back to Octagon.

When they docked Xornoth could not help but let his gaze travel upwards at the sheer size of the structures in the area, still as impressive as when he’d seen them during Grian’s tour of the continent.

Ren proceeded to then guide him to an area around the back of Octagon where a button was pressed and a part of the wall moved away, revealing a staircase, “Doc’s workshop is downstairs, come on.”

Xornoth still found Doc mildly terrifying despite the creeper hybrid’s demeanor and friendliness. He had expected the stairwell down to the workshop to be spooky and ominous like some form of dungeon but found it was lit up rather nicely and the walls matching the color and style of the building above.

Once the duo reached the bottom Xornoth was met with a massive room. He looked around the area in awe at the random bits and bobs and strange devices scattered about on tables among crates of redstone of both the dust and crystalized variety, as well as the blueprints pinned to the walls; one of which Doc was looking at intently.

“Hey Doc, I brought a guest.” Ren called, announcing their presence. The Hermit in question turned to look and gave a smile as he caught sight of them.

“I had begun to think that you never leave Boatem.” he said with a chuckle, “Welcome to Octagon, Xornoth. What brings you here?”

“Ren said that you...might be able...to fix my wings.”

Doc’s expression turned sympathetic “Ah, I remember Grian saying you were unable to fly. Well, come on over here and let me take a look at them.”

Xornoth did as instructed and approached, stretching out his wings. “May I?” Doc inquired, motioning to the delicate feathers that remained.” he got a nod in response.

A shiver went down Xornoth’s spine as Doc’s hands came into contact with the feathers, it’d been so long since he’d allowed anyone to touch his wings with consent and the fingers moving through them was making him anxious.

“Hmm...alright, I think I can work with this. The wing structure is still intact, all that’s missing is the feathers that allow flight. The first option would just be to embed feathers into your wing directly where they are missing; and the other option is a device that would allow attachment of the missing feathers in exchange for possibly limiting some mobility, but I could fix that issue over time as well.”

Xornoth thought about it for a moment before replying, “I’ll go with the second option if that’s alright with you.”

Doc smiled and nodded, “Perfectly fine. I’ll take some measurements of your wings and then just give me a few days to come up with something that will work.”

It was five days later when Xornoth’s communicator alerted him with a private message from Doc regarding the completion of the device that would fix his wings. He had wasted no time in putting away the materials he’d been building with and rushing over to Octagon shortly after.

When he entered Doc’s workshop he saw the man over by a table and announced his presence, Doc greeted him and motioned Xornoth over.

On the table was a harness very similar to that of an elytra, only this one had a metal framework on either side with artificial feathers attached to them where primaries and secondaries would usually be found.

“In theory, the framework should fit right against the structure of your wing like a brace.” Doc explained, motioning to the device, “The harness is so that the framework itself doesn’t come off from the motion of you flying. There’s also sensors at the joints that will detect your muscle movement so everything should fold and open as normal.”

Xornoth touched the constructs, feeling the feathers and metal “Doc, these are stunning…”

“Thank you, I’ve never done something like this for a wing before, so it was also a nice little challenge for myself. I still see a few flaws in their design but I can fix those later, I think you’ve waited long enough for this. Ready to try them on and see if they work?”

With an eager nod Xornoth spread his wings, allowing Doc to help him equip the device and secure everything in place. When he was done, Doc turned him to face a mirror and spoke, “Well, what do you think?” he asked.

Xornoth looked at the attachments on his wings. If they were stunning on the table, they were beautiful now that he had them on. He gave them a few test flaps and tried folding his wings, finding everything worked as it should.

“Can I try flying?” he asked in excitement.

“Not much room for that in here, let’s go outside.”

The warmth of the sun greeted them as they left the workshop and Xornoth began to flap his wings. It took several strokes, but eventually the ground beneath him vanished as he got airborne. A laugh escaped him as he began to maneuver and twist through the sky, he was flying!

It wasn’t perfect, Xornoth could tell a few of his movements were restricted; but Doc had mentioned that the device would limit some of his mobility at the start and over time those limits could eventually be fixed. For now, he was content with the feeling of actual flight after so long without it.

Doc watched from the ground, a smile on his face at the sheer joy and laughter above him as Xornoth did experimental flips and spins, diving and swooping through the sky without a care in the world at the freedom returned to him.

When Xornoth decided to land he instantly ran to Doc and wrapped his arms around him, tears of joy going down his face. “Thank you, Doc.” he managed to say.

Doc returned the gesture, “You’re a Hermit now, Xornoth.” He began, “And Hermits help each other no matter the odds.”

After spending a bit more time with Doc and eventually Ren when the werewolf caught sight of them, Xornoth said his goodbyes and made the flight back to Boatem to show his fellow basemates his new prosthetics and return to building his village.

He’d have to give the place an official name at some point.

As he flew over Boatem, he caught sight of Mumbo and Grian over by the G-Train and Cheapslate, the latter of which had been covered in water.

Curious, he landed in a tree within earshot, watching the antics of his fellow Hermits.

“Does it have to get cheaper then?” Grian asked as he gestured to a sign that read ‘Every time my store gets vandalized it gets cheaper’ in large letters, the tone in his voice one of mischief.

“Are you sure you didn’t do this?”

“No~”

Mumbo changed the price sign on the pile of deepslate and exchanged a few more words with Grian about putting the G-Train out of business with the better prices of Cheapslate’s wares comparatively before Grian removed the water and replaced it with lava instead with a devious grin on his face.

“You’re holding an empty bucket mate!”

“I was just trying to remove the water and it turned into lava.”

“Even though this store is really difficult to navigate to, I feel like now I’m going to get all the business.” Mumbo replied as he wrote on another sign, this one reading ‘1 diamond, 1 chest’

“Alright, sold. I’ll take the lot!” Grian declared, tossing six diamonds over to Mumbo before going over to remove the lava and take the stock out of the chests.

“No wait! You weren’t supposed to abuse my system like that buddy!”

“What do you mean~”

“No, that wasn’t the plan! The plan was that it was supposed to be so cheap that no one would shop at your store, not that you would also shop at my store!”

“You should have put that in the terms and conditions!”

Xornoth watched their antics for a bit longer before making his presence known. “Hey you two, what’s going on over here?” He asked.

“I just vandalized Mumbo’s shop and now I own it!” Grian responded with pride

“Well joke’s on you because I have seven diamonds now and I’ve just made a bunch of coal sales!” Mambo laughed as he tossed a few diamonds to Grian and grabbed several bags of coal.

Grian’s grin grew wider “Well I have a bit of a confession to make. Most of that I borrowed from your chests so…”

“Wait, so I just bought my own coal?!”

“You bought your own coal!”

“This is the worst day of my life!”

Xornoth couldn’t help but join in on the laughter of his fellow Hermits and their antics, only stopping when Grian took notice of the new additions on his wings.

“But enough about the two of us!” He said with a smile, “I see your visit to Doc went well! Your wings are looking amazing!”

“Thanks, I just finished a test flight with them, they work wonderfully. Doc is really a genius when it comes to these kinds of things.”

“You should have seen the stuff he did during the civil war! The man’s absolutely insane.”

“I don’t think you ever told me the story behind that one, care to elaborate?”

Grian grinned, “I honestly don’t remember exactly how it started but Doc will claim it’s because I messed with one of the bushes at his base!”

As Grian recounted the story of the pranks leading up to the civil war to Xornoth and the horrible job Mumbo did as a mole, the trio was joined by Scar and Impulse, both of which happily added to the conversation with their own perspectives of the event.

Xornoth couldn’t help but toss in a few things he’d witnessed back on Empiria into the impromptu storytime, even if he hadn’t been in the right state of mind at the time the antics of the rulers' squabbles had always amused him and, judging by the reactions from his fellow Hermits, them as well.

“How’s the sketchbook working out for you by the way Xornoth?” Scar questioned, “Have you used it yet?”

Xornoth nodded and grabbed the item in question from his satchel to show to the other members of Boatem, “It's been working wonderfully, Scar. I have three more ideas for buildings I plan to construct!”

Scar looked at the page being displayed, “Xornoth that looks amazing! What is it going to be?”

“A barn for sheep since they were iconic to the region.” he said before he turned the page, “And this one will be a storage building. The third one is still in the planning stages but I’m thinking maybe a forge of some sort!”

“Have you decided on a name for your village yet Xornoth?” Impulse questioned.

“No, but a part of me is thinking about calling it ‘New Rivendell’ for the sake of nostalgia and because of how similar it is to my original home.”

“Do you miss it at all?” Mumbo asked, “Your homeland?”

The smile on Xornoth’s face turned more sentimental at the question, “Sometimes, yes. I miss my twin brother the most if I’m being honest. Before…everything that happened to me, we were close and did everything together. Destiny tore us apart but even though we became enemies in the end, I realize now in my clear state of mind that deep down I never stopped loving him. Even if he probably thinks I’m dead, I hope he’s alright.”

#empires smp #hermitcraft #hermitcraft x empires #empiresblr #hermitblr #Xornoth #empires xornoth #grian #mumbo jumbo #docm77 #rendog #a search for belonging #My writing

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aurabird · 1 year

Text

This seems fun :D Feel free to shoot some asks my way

ask game for fanfic writers

do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road?

talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

on a scale of 1-10 how much do you enjoy incorporating romance into the average story?

what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son

do you have any kind of consistent writing schedule or just hoping for the best?

tell us about the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote

what’s your relationship with constructive criticism and feedback like? do you seek it out? how well do you take it?

in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not?

at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

do you ever have trouble focusing on writing? how do you get around that?

talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

what’s your worst writing habit?

where do you share your writing?

where is your favorite place to write?

what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

what is your most and least favorite part of writing?

what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?

what is your favorite trope to write?

pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

how do you deal with writers block?

on average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

what’s your revision or rewriting process like?

do you like to write one-shots or series, and why?

do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished? 28. And who do you share them with?

handwritten notes or typed notes?

give us a spoiler for one of your stories.

most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.

tell us about one of your characters who’s an absolute joy to write

do characters influence your writing style?

do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

how do you name characters and places?

tell us about a character who’s very different than you who you love a whole lot

do you base your characters of real people or not? If so, tell us about one.

when creating characters, what comes first: appearance, backstory, motivation, personality, something else?

how many stories do you work on at one time?

are you an avid reader?

best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

what is the weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

describe the aesthetic of a story in 5 words.

how did writing change you?

any writing advice you want to share?

name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

what time are you the most productive when it comes to writing?

what story are you most proud of?

do you reread your own stories?

do you want to be published some day?

do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind?

share the synopsis of a story you work on that you haven’t published yet

how many unfinished ideas/stories are you working on at the same time?

when writing, do you have an outline? and do you stick to it?

what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?

what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were reading it?

what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it?

where is the most dangerous place that you’ve read fic?

where is the most dangerous place that you’ve written fic?

what was the first commercial property (book/movie/tv show/etc) that you realized was actually professional fanfiction?

what’s the weirdest reason you’ve ever shipped something?

what’s the best insult you’ve read in a fic?

what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve read?

what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve written?

when have you felt the most confident in your writing?

when have you felt the least confident?

how long will you spend on a story or scene before you give up?

how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

are you very critical of your own writing? how much do you find yourself editing (either during the writing or after the fact)?

how do you balance writing and life? do you ever feel overwhelmed by the amount of writing you have to do?

what do you do if a scene gets too serious?

how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

are you a planner, pantser, or planster?

do you know how your story ends before you start writing?

what is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

how do you write kissing scenes?

how do you choose where to end a chapter?

are you an over-writer, under-writer, or just-right-er?

do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing? if so, how do you go about it?

if you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?

“proper” punctuation or all lowercase?

less is more or more is more?

said: overused or underused?

what would be on a moodboard for your current wip(s)?

which season best matches the mood of your wip(s)?

does your writing style change depending on the genre you write?

if you could have another author write your wip for you (bc we all dream of this occasionally), who would it be?

sarcastic narrators: entertaining or overdone?

do you notice your own voice in your writing style?

how has your writing style changed over the years?

first, second, or third person?

do you hear other people’s writing styles when they talk?

do you prefer dialogue or description?

do you describe a character’s appearance all right away or in pieces?

romantic/social sideplots: interesting or irritating?

abstract or detailed romance scenes?

what don’t you like about your writing style?

was being a writer a dream of yours when you were little? or did it spring up when your older? or is it just a hobby?

open question to the writer.

a compiled list of asks for me to reference. they are not my own. just some of my favorite questions i’ve picked out from a couple different lists. feel free to reblog and use too!!

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aurabird · 1 year

Text

Winner’s Lament

With the release of Limited Life I decided to revisit an old idea that I came up with in the middle of the night and finish it. Enjoy some Double Life AU angst!

Ao3 Link

----------------

Scott faced Pearl as she walked up from the shadows, her red cloak and eyes alongside the bloodstained axe and undershirt she wore would, in any other situation, be terrifying to him; but the game was over, they’d won, the others were all dead.

He didn’t get to say goodbye to Cleo, his chosen soulmate rather than the one he had been bound to, they’d gotten separated and somehow she had died, he knew she had the moment it happened.

Wolves gathered around Pearl’s legs as she stopped in the clearing, her gaze meeting his own.

“I didn’t think it would end this way.” He said nervously, a sick feeling forming in his chest, “I don’t know what happened to Cleo after you killed the other two.”

Pearl giggled, manic and gleeful, “Yeah, they turned on me and started killing my dogs so...”

“And you managed to turn it around?” he questioned.

“You know it!” Pearl replied with a laugh.

Scott sighed, “I didn’t think it would come down to the two of us. There was many ways I thought this was gonna go, I never thought the final two would be us, I never thought we would win.”

“I honestly didn’t have a lot of faith in us, but I had faith in myself and Tilly and Till’s now passed away so...”

Scott opened his mouth to reply to Pearl’s comment but all that came out was a cry as he recoiled in pain, a cacophony of malevolent voices echoing in his mind.

“Bring her to us, Starborne! That is an order!”

Scott grit his teeth as he clutched the sides of his head. He knew those voices, those damned voices that whispered and commanded him, trying to force him to do things he didn’t want to. No, he wasn’t like Grian, he wasn’t going to bend to the will of The Watchers, even if he technically was one himself now thanks to these stupid death games.

“No.” He thought back in defiance, “I’ve done everything you asked me to, I won’t submit another innocent person to servitude under your tyranny!”

Another spike of pain through his skull, this one sending him to his knees.

“Scott?! Scott what’s wrong!” Pearl’s voice broke through his stupor, the once-playfully malicious tone now gone, replaced by genuine concern as she grabbed his hands.

“Insolent child! She’s not innocent. She was once one of us, we want her back and you will bring her to us!”

“Why? So you can puppet her around like you do with Grian? Like you’ve done all of us in these experimental games of yours?!”

“Scott, you’re scaring me!”

He forced his eyes open at Pearl’s desperate cry “Th-The W-Watchers...” he began, “They want you back...and I’ve given them the perfect opportunity by winning this damn game with you.”

He then looked at the sky and forced himself to his feet, “Isn’t that right, you sick bastards?!” he snapped, “The soul bonds, they were rigged weren’t they?! Each one of them was planned wasn’t it!”

“How very perceptive of you, Starborne.” one of the Watchers said in his mind. As they spoke, Scott swore he could see the eyes of the otherworldly beings in the moon above him. “But you will do as we wish, there’s nothing you can do to stop us.”

That is when Scott felt agony wash over him, ancient power forcing his body move on its own. Against his will, he summoned the TNT from his inventory to his hands and began placing it around him mechanically.

Pearl’s eyes went wide in realization “Scott?! Scott no! What are you doing?! Stop!”

Scott didn’t heed her plea, his body no longer under his control as he ignited the fuse of the explosives at his feet. Tears beginning to stream down his face from now-magenta eyes, blood dripping down his back from the pair of violet wings that had ripped free once more.

Pearl started to run towards him, tripping over a hole in the ground and falling to her hands and knees in her panic. “Don’t leave me Scott! Please! You don’t have to do this!”

Scott’s gaze met hers, a somber expression on his face hidden behind a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry, Pearl. You don’t deserve this any more than I do but...Tilly death do us part. Goodbye.”

An explosion shook the world at the final word and after a brief moment of sheer agony from the TNT blast hitting her, Pearl opened her eyes to find herself in a void...with malevolent purple eyes all around her.

Pain flared throughout her entire body seconds later, as once more The Watchers brought her back under their control.

#double life smp #pearlescentmoon #scott smajor #smajor1995 #trafficblr #dangthatsalongname #My writing

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aurabird · 1 year

Text

Unwanted Feeling

Scott felt it settle into his veins, the unwanted feeling of bloodlust and survival instinct making itself at home without invitation. It’d been so long since he last felt it that he almost had forgotten what it felt like...and he hated it.

The whispers and commands came next, the voices in his head baying for him to kill. He hated them too, the owners had caused him and everyone else so much anguish and pain.

Had he not won one of these death games, he probably would have been able to control the urges better, resist the orders he was being given. But not this time, The Watcher’s grasp on him was too strong and all he could do is grit his teeth in frustration and anger.

He knew why they picked him as the first bearer of this bloodlust curse, it was poetic of his defiance against them when it came down to loosing a life or killing his allies.

Scott looked at the sky and growled, that same fire of defiance in his eyes as he imagined meeting those of his malevolent overseers.

“IS THIS A JOKE TO YOU!” he snapped, clenching his fists.

“Yes.” came a malicious and condescending voice in reply.

#limited life smp #trafficblr #scott smajor #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname #limited life smp spoilers #My writing

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aurabird · 1 year

Text

The Deal

Having watched Jimmy’s most recent episode and seen Sausage’s latest empires stream (2/24/23) this idea would not leave my brain.

Ao3 Link

----------------------

It had been several days since the events that occurred on The Great Bridge and Jimmy sat in his office, a plan to get revenge on his mind.

If the other emperors wouldn’t respect him for upholding the law, then they would fear him instead. After all, how else did the tyrants of old kingdoms get whatever they wanted if not through instilling that primal emotion? Hell, even the old sheriff said that people ran inside their houses at the sight of him, that everyone is a criminal, including yourself.

There was only one problem with this plan. Jimmy was not an intimidating figure, he was short and the damage done to his reputation went too deep. He would not be able to pull off such a feat on his own, something that was frustrating in its own right.

The sound of the door opening and closing again snapped him from his thoughts and he looked up to see someone standing in the room. They wore dark robes trimmed in gold and a black cape was fastened around their shoulders by a ruby clasp. The dim lighting hid most of their facial features from view except for a pair of glowing, crimson eyes which met his own.

“Hello Sheriff.” The stranger said, their voice very familiar underneath the distorted echoes that accompanied it.

“Unless you’re here to apologize, Sausage, you can leave because I’m not in the mood to deal with you right now.”

The stranger laughed, a haunting and malicious sound that did not fit the Protector of Sanctuary at all. They approached where Jimmy sat, stepping into the light of the lantern resting on his desk and revealing their face.

It was the same as that of Sausage, but this stranger wore it completely wrong. His crimson eyes glowed with unearthly power, his grin crooked and sharp as he placed gloved hands on the desk.

"Sausage is...occupied at the moment, Sheriff. I, on the other hand, am here to offer you a proposal.”

“Whatever game it is you’re playing, Sausage, I’m not interested. Now, get out of my office before I have you dragged out of here.”

“Really? I would have thought you’d want the chance to get your revenge on those that wronged you. We are alike in many ways, Sheriff. Both of us, shunned for being weak; both of us wanting the respect and power we deserve but having to take it by force rather than it being given.”

Jimmy barked out a bitter laugh, “That’s rich, coming from you, the beloved Protector of Sanctuary."

The stranger slammed his hands down, a pulsating flicker of scarlet flashing under the fabric covering them and resonating with the dark veins that creeped up his neck. “I am not Sausage! That man has wronged me just as much as he has wronged you! I have power beyond anything you can comprehend, Sheriff. And if you help me, I may just offer some of it to you. Face it, we both know you can’t get your revenge alone. You are mortal, you have no magic, no allies, you barely have armor and weapons to defend yourself with.”

Jimmy recoiled at the outburst, so unlike the man he’d come to know. Sausage was a calm and reserved individual with the streak of mischief every now and again. The only time Sausage would ever raise his voice was when flustered or frustrated and even then it would have a lighthearted undertone. This man’s voice on the other hand was full of genuine hatred.

Still, the offer was a temptation Jimmy couldn’t help but grasp at. The chance to be respected, even if it was through fear, was something he wanted more than anything.

“Alright, I’ll humor you for a moment. What would you ask of me in return for your help?”

“I have power and you have the resources to make both of our desires come to light. I’ll give you the power to prove to them that you demand respect and in turn, you provide me with the means to enact my own revenge. Do we have a deal?”

Jimmy thought about the pros and cons for a brief moment. A part of him was screaming that this stranger was dangerous, but the part of him that lusted to be held in high esteem was louder. The Sheriff extended his hand to clasp that of the one before him.

“Deal.”

Not-Sausage let out a chuckle, “Excellent choice.” he said before his eyes flashed and white-hot pain shot up Jimmy’s arm from the contact, wrenching a cry of agony from The Sheriff’s throat as the sensation made its way through his body and settling within his very blood and bones, a dark power entwining itself within his very soul.

It lasted only a few moments before the pain finally stopped and the grip on his hand was released did Jimmy stand up with a malicious grin and red eyes matching that of his newfound ally.

“When do we start?”

#empires smp #empiresblr #empires smp s2 #solidaritygaming #mythicalsausage #empires sausage #empires jimmy #jimmy solidarity #My writing

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aurabird · 2 years

Text

A Search For Belonging

Chapter 8: Flight and Fear

Xornoth learns how to use an elytra to regain his ability to fly...but old wounds take time to heal.

Ao3 Link | Masterpost

---------------

Xornoth looked at the device in his hands, it was a simple and basic elytra design compared to the ones he’d seen the rulers have; phantom membrane strung across an iron skeleton framework like insect wings and attached to a harness.

Grian helped him equip it and the elf found the device felt almost natural, strapped to his body by the harness and draped over his wings.

“Alright, so in theory the elytra should work like an extension of your wings, the only difference is it's more for gliding rather than actual flight.” Grian said, “Any motion you would use in flight to steer yourself should work.”

He was perched atop the mountain, the ground far, far below him. He felt a mix of emotions, excitement at the fact that for the first time in so long he’d be able to feel the wind on his face as he soared through the air, fear at the fact that what if he messed up and the elytra didn’t work right, and several others he could not currently identify. “Ok, I think…I think I’m ready.” he said as he prepared to jump.

“Do you want a countdown?” Grian asked, Xornoth nodded in response. “Alright, three…two…one…go!”

Xornoth let himself fall, allowing instinct to take over. He spread his wings and felt the wind catch his elytra. When he opened his eyes he could feel the rush of the air going past him. It was nothing like actual fight, but it was at least something after being grounded for so long.

Grian came up alongside him, a grin on his face as he rode the wind. “Here, use this to propel yourself forward!” he said as he handed Xornoth a firework.

Xornoth tugged on the string of the rocket, the gunpowder within bursting outwards in a trail of sparks as his speed increased substantially…

…too substantially.

Xornoth found himself no longer in control of the elytra and realized in horror that the ground was approaching far too quickly. In his panic he tried to angle himself to slow down or land only to find that the action did nothing to aid him in his descent, the ground only grew closer and closer.

Xornoth shut his eyes and braced for the impact. He hit the plains with a sickening crack as several bones in his body no doubt shattered, the last thing his brain registered was the wave of excruciating agony that shot through him before his vision went black.

Respawn was…a strange experience. One moment he’d felt nothing but agony, then a brief moment of darkness as magic no doubt healed his body, and now he found himself lying in the sleeping bag with nothing but dull aches in his bones that had already started to fade.

Someone landed near him as he sat up with a slight grimace, his eyes catching sight of Grian. “Xornoth I’m so sorry, I should have let you practice basic maneuvers more before giving you a firework.” The avian said in apology as he extended a hand to help the elf up.

Xornoth staggered a bit once on his feet but managed to regain his balance, “It's fine,” he began with a shrug, “I probably would have crashed eventually anyway so better to have done so sooner rather than later. Respawn is different from what I expected, definitely something I’m going to have to get used to.”

Before Grian could reply their communicators pingged and Xornoth looked down at the screen to read some of the messages.

Xornoth hit the ground too hard

<FalseSymmetry> Oof, was that his first death?

<Cubfan135> I believe it was yeah.

<GoodTimeWithScar> You alright Xornoth? Do you need someone to grab your stuff?

<ImpulseSV> I think Grian was teaching him how to use an elytra today so he probably didn’t have much on him, if anything.

A small smile curved on his face at the messages, the other Hermits were worried about him after his death and subsequent respawn. He typed out a response to reassure him that he was fine.

<Xornoth> I’m fine, just a flying lesson mishap. I will say though, respawn is something I will have to get used to.

<Grian> It was my fault really, I gave him a firework before he’d gotten used to the basics since he seemed excited.

<GoodTimeWithScar> Did you have anything on you?

<Xornoth> No, nothing other than the elytra. Thanks though.

“So, landing mishap aside, what did you think?” Grian questioned, drawing the elf’s attention away from the chat.

Xornoth pondered it for a moment, “It was different than what I am used to but it did feel good to have at least some resemblance of flight. When I saw people using elytra they always made it seem so easy.”

“To be fair, a lot of Hermits struggled at first too. Even after years of practice some of us such as Scar and Mumbo are still horrible at elytra flight.”

Xornoth laughed a bit at that, “I’m willing to give it another go, just no fireworks this time.”

“Alright, fair enough!” Grian replied with a smile, handing him the retrieved elytra and once more helping him equip it.

The flight lessons went on for several more hours but, as much as Xornoth was enjoying the feeling of wind on his face as he learned how to use the elytra better, he began to realize that it did not have the same feeling as the one he’d get using actual wings.

He’d tried flapping the limbs with the elytra of course, but the device was not built for anything but gliding. It was a conflict in his mind and he wasn’t sure what to think about it.

Despite this, he thanked Grian for everything before they parted ways, the two of them going back to working on their builds.

Xornoth took a few steps back to admire what he’d built. The house wasn't an exact copy of the one in Rivendell as he didn’t remember all the details but the fact that he had constructed and finished it himself filled the elf with pride.

His communicator pinged with a private message and Xornoth opened up the chat to read it.

<GoodTimeWithScar > Xornoth> Left something for you at your house! Your building and style is amazing!

<Xornoth > GoodTimeWithScar> Thanks! It’s going to be a bit difficult to work from memory, given how hazy mine still is, but I also don’t want to make exact copies of every Rivendell building since what they looked like is fragmented in my head.

<GoodTImeWithScar > Xornoth> Well, hopefully my gift will help you with that second bit!

<Xornoth > GoodTImeWithScar> I’ll check it out once I get some things put away!

Xornoth closed the chat on the device after that and began to put the leftover materials he didn’t end up using into a chest before picking up his shulkers to restock with more materials later. Right now it was getting late and he was curious as to what Scar had left him.

Flaring out his elytra, Xornoth glided down, stumbling a bit as he landed before his house. Next to the door was a box with a note pinned to it.

‘A little gift for you to use for whatever you want! - Scar’

Xornoth picked up the box and brought it inside to open it on the table. Inside he found a sketchbook and a few cerulean feathers (no doubt ones Grian molted and collected) with sharpened graphite embedded in the tips to draw with.

He recalled the lesson about building from yesterday where Grian had mentioned drawing out ideas and then building them. With a grin, Xornoth brought the book and the quills upstairs and laid them on the bedside table.

As Xornoth shrugged off the elytra to hang it up, a wave of sadness washed through him as he once more got reminded of how it was nothing like using his wings to fly, the phantom pain of the feathers being torn out returning for a brief moment before he pushed it away in favor of something more positive as he changed out of his dirty clothes and went to freshen up.

Once freshly clothed he sat on his bed and flicked on his communicator’s screen, typing another thank you to Scar before joining in on whatever the other Hermits were talking about and continuing to do so until things went silent for the night.

Xornoth found himself in a land filled with familiar crimson tendrils and plants. Towering mushrooms changed and twisted to aid in the destruction of a civilization.

The small bodies of its people, some puppets of the fungal corruption, others hosts in which it could grow and spread, and several more dead and lifeless on the ground.

He knew this place and it filled him with a sick feeling as he took in the carnage and destruction. At one point he would have found it beautiful; now? Now he was terrified of it.

Xornoth took a few steps backwards, finding himself bumping into something. When he turned to see what it was, his blood ran cold.

A figure with ebony flesh marred by pulsating veins of purple and red. Two sinister horns grew from their head, dripping with corruption and innocent blood like their clawed hands. A pair of red eyes met his violet ones and a terrifying smile curved onto the being…no, the demon’s face.

Darkness was cast over the figure’s form by a shadow, Xornoth’s gaze being drawn upwards to meet the three-eyed black stag standing proudly behind the demon, its antlers mirroring the demon’s own.

No. No…no…no…

He turned and ran at that, leaving the homeland of the gnomes behind him in his mad dash to get away.

Xornoth was stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a familiar face. The young gnome glaring at him before speaking. “You’re a sad spirit that’s lost and just keeps getting angrier and angrier, because no one really loves you.” she said bitterly.

The scene around him changed several times in succession with those words. Each moment being before one of the rulers as they denied him asylum until it settled once more, this time depicting a macabre sight of buildings burning to the ground and innocent civilians slaughtered as mercenaries sought one person in particular.

Him.

As he stood there mortified at the sight of something he’d inadvertently caused, a sight he’d grown far too accustomed to, a sword was plunged through his chest; the now-crimson blade etched with archaic writing.

His eyes snapped open with a cry as he sat up in bed, sweat going down his back. It took him a minute to realize everything he’d seen had just been a nightmare and when he did, he wept.

There was no chance of him going back to sleep so he forced himself out of bed and went outside, the cool ocean air of the night greeted him as he stepped onto the path outside his house, following it until he reached the coastline of Boatem where he sat down on the sand and stared at the ocean beyond, his mind wandering as the nightmare replayed in his head over and over.

He didn’t know how long he sat there for but eventually a voice snapped him from his thoughts, “Xornoth?” the speaker asked, prompting him to turn his head to see who had approached. He’d expected it to be someone from Boatem but was surprised when he discovered it was Ren, the werewolf’s ears were tucked back, blue eyes peering over the shades on his face.

“Oh, hello Ren.” he said in what he hoped was in a tone of voice that sounded optimistic.

“What’s got you looking so glum my dude?”

Xornoth sighed, “I…had nightmares…of my past; it was really vivid this time…”

Ren sat down beside him before speaking again, “I know the past is a touchy subject for most of us, but if you ever need someone to talk to outside of Boatem and Xisuma, I’m willing to listen.”

Xornoth wrapped his wings around himself for comfort, “I did a lot of horrible things, Ren. Many innocent people are dead because of me. If it wasn’t murder by my own hand under a dark influence, then it was slaughter by mercenaries for granting me asylum once I broke free of the one controlling me and was labeled a fugitive.”

“From what I can gather, it seems like you were just as much a victim as they were.”

He thought about it before letting out a sigh, “I guess you have a point there.”

“That’s not the only thing bothering you though, is it?”

Xornoth shook his head, “No, it’s also the fact that elytra flight isn’t the same as natural flight. Because of the horrible things I did my wings are permanently damaged Ren, the feathers that are missing won’t grow back so I’ll never be able to fly like I used to ever again and it just…upsets me.”

There was silence for a moment before Ren replied. “Hmm...you know, I bet Doc could fix your wings somehow.” he suggested, picking up on the sadness and longing in Xornoth’s words.

The elf looked at his reflection at what remained of his wings before turning to the werewolf at his side, “You...you really think so?” he asked quietly.

Ren placed a metallic hand on Xornoth’s shoulder, “Yeah dude, he patched me up and the damage I received was way worse than your wings.”

Xornoth thought about it, to be able to fly again would be wonderful and if there was even the slightest chance of it, why waste the opportunity? “Alright, but shouldn’t we wait until tomorrow?”

Ren nodded, “Probably. Doc is currently asleep over a table and he hasn’t slept for more than a few minutes in almost forty-eight hours so he needs the rest.”

The comment made Xornoth chuckle, the image of Doc that appeared in his head at the words bringing a small smile to his face. “You…want to stay the night then?” he asked, “I’d hate to make you have to row all the way back to Octagon this late after coming over.”

“Sure my dude! Sleepover time it is.”

It didn’t take long for the two Hermits to settle down and, with the presence of a friend nearby, Xornoth was able to fall into a peaceful sleep.

#empires smp #hermitcraft #hermitcraft x empires #empiresblr #hermitblr #Xornoth #grian #rendog #a search for belonging #My writing

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aurabird · 2 years

Text

A Search for Belonging

Chapter 7: To Be a Hermit

In which Xornoth learns to build and discovers his mischievous streak. However, something else is also afoot.

Ao3 Link | Masterpost

This chapter took me awhile simply because I had to find a way to translate MC mechanics into a non-MC setting in a way that makes sense.

---------------

Xornoth sat before Grian and Scar in the empty plot near the Swaggon, listening intently to what they were saying.

“Alright, so there are several ways to go about building.” Grian began, “You can design something as you go, build out a frame for what it’ll look like, or even design it on paper and then use the drawing as a reference for what you want.”

“Which of the methods is the most easy for a beginner like me?” Xornoth questioned.

“Well, you said you were going to build something akin to Rivendell right?” Scar asked, getting a nod in response, “Then probably just building a framework and/or working from memory is your best bet.”

Grian spoke next, “Sometimes it helps to get a rough shape of the building’s foundation before you build like this” he explained as he picked up a cobblestone with minimal effort and placed it down, followed by several more until he got a basic square shape.

“How did you lift those?” Xornoth asked in awe, “You must be really strong!”

“Not strong enough to lift stones like they’re feathers. Our communicators have an enchantment on them that allows the magic in the world to resonate with us; with a thought we can make something like stone or brick lighter or make it smaller so that it can be put in a satchel or chest.”

Scar spoke next, “It seems to only work with raw materials and certain crafted things like stone bricks, planks, and whatnot. Anything that takes multiple steps to construct like a bed, campfire, or furnace is unaffected by it.”

“Fascinating. That would explain a lot as to why the rulers of my homeland could build things with little effort as opposed to their citizens, they had the same enchantment on something of theirs.”

Grian and Scar proceeded to show Xornoth how to connect planks to the support beams and the steps required to build a framework on the scale of a small and basic square shack before the later spoke once more, “...And once the framework is all built you can just fill in the rest with whatever building materials you want!”

“Can I give it a try?” Xornoth asked eagerly.

“Sure, try and copy what we built so you can practice the basics!”

Xornoth walked over to the pile of cobblestones and reached down. Once his hands made contact with the surface he felt some kind of energy run through him; with a thought of the cobblestone being lighter he stood up, lifting it with ease.

“I did it! I did-”

Suddenly, the rock in Xornoth’s hands was heavy once more and he was forced to drop it to the ground again. “What? I don’t understand, why did it get heavy again?” he asked, his head turning to his fellow Hermits

Grian rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly “We…probably should have mentioned that resonating with the magic of the world requires focus. Since you’ve never done it before, it’ll take most of your concentration but as you continue to build eventually you won’t need to focus as much.”

Xornoth nodded, it made sense; Grian and Scar had been building structures for years, he’d only just started. “Ok. Let me try again.”

Slowly, Xornoth managed to construct a shack identical to the one Grian and Scar built, backing away once finished with an excited grin at the fact that he had just built something on his own.

With a few more instances of trial and error at building, the lesson eventually came to an end and Xornoth gave thanks to Grian and Scar before parting ways with them to go and gather materials needed for construction on what would be his base.

As he worked towards gathering the resources he looked through his mess of memories for a building that he would start with, a fond smile appearing on his face as one came to surface.

A decrepit house on the outskirts of Rivendell that had been long abandoned until two elven princes decided to claim it as their clubhouse, a place where they could pretend they were normal children rather than royals.

Once his shulker boxes and satchel could hold no more, Xornoth made his way back to boatem and up the mountain to the spot he’d been offered. Now that he was actually standing up there, it really did feel a lot like Rivendell.

Xornoth tossed the shulker onto the ground, allowing it to grow to its normal size before opening the lid and pulling materials from within.

Remembering his lessons from earlier, Xornoth started placing down cobblestones until he got the shape of the foundation before proceeding to cut some of the logs he’d gathered into planks to build the framework of the building.

Little-by-little the framework began to come together and Xornoth smiled as he took a step back to look at it. He was certain that the shape of the building was slightly different than he remembered but he was proud of how it came out.

He went over to one of his shulkers again to get more materials out so he could start building the walls of the building and it dawned on him that he hadn’t gathered any warped wood to use for the building roof. With a sigh and much debate, he made the slow trek down the mountain to the Boatem nether portal.

As he passed by Grian’s alley he noticed that the avian was nowhere to be found, either underground or elsewhere on Hermitcraft.

He was about to turn and continue towards the nether portal when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. When he turned to look into the oak forest near Mumbo’s base where he had seen it, there was nothing.

Xornoth shook his head before making his way to his destination once more. When he reached the gateway, however, he got the feeling that he was being watched. Quickly, he whipped around, hand on the hilt of his sword poised to draw it if needed.

There was no one behind him but he could have sworn two of the oak trees in the forest had been further away before. With a shrug, his gaze went back to the purple swirls of the nether portal and he was about to step through when a snicker reached his ears.

This time, when Xornoth turned around, he couldn’t help but notice that the trees had since left the treeline of the forest and were now on the side of Grian’s starter house, “You know, your disguises only work if you stay in the actual forest, right?” he questioned with a smile.

Tango and Mumbo’s heads poked out from the tops of the trees, the two of them now laughing hysterically. “That is kind of a flaw I suppose, yeah.” the former said

Xornoth couldn’t help but join in on the laughter himself, “How long have you two been at this?”

“Oh we’ve only just started mate.” Mumbo answered, “It was all Tango’s idea really, he came up with it and kind of roped me into it as well. We’re trying to see how many people we can get away with pranking like this.”

“I have plenty of these disguises if you want in on it too.” Tango added.

Xornoth thought about the offer, it’d been so long since he’d pranked someone rather than torment them. He gave a mischievous smile and nodded, “Absolutely.”

Dressed in the disguise the now-trio made their way to the oak forest again, waiting for Grian to show up. They didn’t have to wait long when he landed in front of his alleyway, placing down several shulkers.

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do.” Tango began, “We’re gonna see who can get the closest without getting caught.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Xornoth replied, already enjoying the thrill of the moment.

Grian was too focused on the mess of chests and shulkers at the front of his base to notice them so they took the opportunity to inch closer, stopping only once he turned in their direction. A look of confusion formed on his face briefly before he shook his head and resumed what he was doing previously.

Once again, they creeped closer. Once again they stopped as Grian faced them.

“Hold on a minute…” Xornoth heard him say, “If I turn around…”

Mumbo took the chance as Grian turned his back to them, moving even closer before the avian whipped around, “I KNEW IT!” he shouted, resulting in laughter from the three pranksters.

“Nothing to see here! Just us trees!” Tango replied through his laughter in a high-pitched voice.

“I thought I was going crazy! I was like ‘did that tree just move?’. Guys, this has to be the best thing ever.”

“It is quite fun.” Xornoth replied.

“Forget stealing Scar’s hat! Let’s all be trees!”

With Grian now roped in on their little prank streak, the quartet of Hermits proceeded to prank both Cub and Scar before it began to get dark, prompting them all to call it a day.

Xornoth went to sleep that night with a wide smile on his face. Today had been some of the most fun he’d had in a long time and the elf was filled with nothing but joy as he drifted off.

Meanwhile, far, far away from Hermitcraft another individual rested; their body suspended in slumber within a prison of ice and frost.

The frozen barrow was quiet, not a sound to be heard from within; that is, until the crunching of snow and ice under heavy boots shattered the silence that loomed over the unnatural structure.

The owner of the footfalls came to a stop, the light of their lantern reflecting off the sheet of ice.

”So, this is where you fled to...you coward.” they growled, a fist clenching in anger, “Running from the consequences of your actions as you always do.”

The intruder got no reply, only further fueling the flames of their simmering rage. “Fine!” they snapped, discarding their lantern, “If you won't come out and confront me yourself then I guess I'll just have to force you out of there!”

The sound of flint striking steel echoed in the chamber as a fuse was lit, an explosion following not long after as a wall of ice was blasted apart.

Once the smoke cleared the intruder was not only greeted with the sight of the one they had sought out frozen in ice, but familiar crimson plants that had not been visible to them before; pulsating veins of red and violet flaring to life upon release.

The fungal tendrils lashed out instantly without warning, their victim letting out a startled cry as they began to coil around them.

The intruder struggled against their assailants, writhing in pain and panic; it was only once their vision started to go black at the edges that the horrifying realization dawned on them...

...there was no escape.

#empires smp #hermitcraft #hermitcraft x empires #empiresblr #hermitblr #Xornoth #grian #goodtimeswithscar #tangotek #mumbo jumbo #a search for belonging #My writing

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aurabird · 2 years

Text

A Search for Belonging

Chapter 6: New Beginnings

Xornoth gets a tour of Hermitcraft

Ao3 Link | Masterpost

Tw: Most of this chapter is fluff but there is a brief flashback that features mentions of blood and torment.

---------------

Xornoth stretched as he got out of bed and took a look at the clock on the wall to find that it was roughly around noon. He went over to his wardrobe and pulled out some clothes to wear, settling on a maroon tunic and a pair of black linen pants.

Once he was dressed he flicked on the screen of his communicator to find a message from Grian.

<Grian > Xornoth> Morning! Let me know when you’re ready to begin the continent tour alright?

Xornoth smiled and typed out a reply.

<Xornoth > Grian> I just woke up so give me 10 minutes and I’ll be good to go.

Though he probably wouldn’t need them for a tour, Xornoth packed the set of diamond tools Impulse had generously given him into his satchel alongside some golden carrots before equipping a scabbard holding a sword to his hip and slinging a bow and quiver over his shoulder.

A knock on his door signaled that Grian had arrived and he went downstairs to greet him.

“Wow, you look ready to go alright!” the avian said with a laugh and a grin, “We’ll start with Boatem and then just follow the paths everywhere else.”

“Are we traveling by foot?”

“Nope, you can borrow Impulse’s sports horse for the tour.”

The name made Xornoth tilt his head, “His what?”

“C’mon, I’ll show you.”

Xornoth followed Grian to a stable with four donkeys dressed in frankly ridiculous tack colors. The equines didn’t seem to mind, braying excitedly at Grian as he approached one in the stall labeled with his name.

Grian led the donkey belonging to Impulse over to him, “I assume you know how to ride a donkey?”

Xornoth shrugged, “I’ve ridden stags since that was the usual mount for elves, riding a donkey can’t be much different.”

Once mounted on the back of the donkey Xornoth steered it to follow behind Grian’s as he began to show him around Boatem.

“Alright, so the most iconic thing in Boatem and the source of its namesake is the Boatem Pole and the subsequent Boatem Hole underneath it.” he said as they stopped at the tower of rowboats Xornoth had seen early on in his arrival to Hermitcraft. “It started as just one boat but then it kinda just escalated from there really. The hole itself leads past bedrock and into the void.”

Xornoth looked at him in exasperation, “Are you insane? From what I understand, falling into the void is possibly the worst way to die.”

Grian shrugged “True, suffocating as you feel like you’re being torn apart molecularly isn’t exactly pleasant but it seemed like a funny idea at the time; we mostly did it for kicks if I had to be honest. Scar falls into it a lot so we’ve been debating putting up guard rails. Knowing him, however, even if we did he’d still manage to fall in somehow.”

Grian then led him to see the giant mountain in which he’d built his base, ‘Midnight Alley’ as he’d dubbed it. In the sky above Scar was going to build his megabase as the Swagon was his ‘starter house’.

Before they could continue, however, a black blur bounded out of a building with a charged creeper in the lowest window and leapt up onto Grian’s shoulders.

Xornoth froze as the creature settled down. He’d expected a cat but instead the elf saw a dragon coiled around the avian. Not just any dragon either, the rarest of dragons, those native to the End dimension.

Two purple eyes focused onto him as Grian turned to show him the drakling. “Oh yeah, Boatem also has a dragon.” the avian said casually, “This is Drako!”

Xornoth had seen an adult enderdragon before but never a young one due to how fragile the eggs were and the fact they normally took centuries to hatch unless some form of ritual was performed. “How?” was all he could say, “How did you hatch an enderdragon?!”

Grian laughed, “Honestly, I don’t really know. See, I made a game where some of us took turns hiding the egg in our bases and whoever held onto it the longest won. After the game was over and I got the egg back I put it in the menagerie and when I came to visit the following morning I found it had started hatching.”

Drako stayed on Grian’s shoulders as they continued on the tour, the next stop being the stone armchair belonging to Mumbo, Xornoth could see colorful houses atop the structure and the massive waterfall - which apparently led into the man’s base - was breathtaking.

Lastly, he was brought to Impulse’s factory, waving to the said Boatem member as they passed the massive building.

“How’s the tour going so far you two?” Impulse questioned as he leaned against a strange-looking chimney.

“Pretty good so far, We’re done with Boatem pretty much and are probably going to make our way to Octagon and everything in that direction now.”

The rest of the tour went smoothly and, by the time they had finished, Xornoth found his satchel filled with far more items than he had originally put in there. Some cookies from Stress, a shulker box from Ren, a book on poetry from Joe, some iron from Tango, a handful of diamonds from a Hermit named Keralis, and some derpcoin from Xisuma (much to the annoyance of Exiel).

They’d stopped in Cub’s man-made biome for a break, the landscape both beautiful and strange to his eyes as he looked at the odd trees among the red sand and lava rivers.

“So, did you see anywhere you’d like to build while we were on the tour?” Grian questioned as he chomped down onto a golden carrot, Drako now curled up on his lap.

Xornoth thought about all the places he’d seen. He liked the idea of building in the roofed forest by Horse Head Farms and the birch forest near Ren and Doc, but as much as he liked the two places, the elf really could not figure out any ideas as to what to build in them.

Another factor in his decision making was distance from Boatem, he didn’t want to travel far, even if shortcutting through the Nether made things quicker. “I…kind of want to stay in Boatem since I know people there best.”

Grian smiled at that, “Well there’s plenty of land available there, we just have to figure out how to connect whatever you plan to build to the gigabase.”

“I was thinking of building a town akin to Rivendell but I don’t know how you would make it fit into what you already have.”

“Hmm…you said Rivendell was in the mountains right?” Grian got a nod from Xornoth in reply, “Then maybe we can have it where Midnight Alley is inside the Boatem mountains, your town above that, and then Scar’s base in the sky?”

He thought about it and grinned “Yeah, I like the sound of that! You just need to teach me how to build things with my own hands since I never have done that before.”

“Of course! We also have to craft you an elytra so you can fly around again.”

Xornoth froze at the words, feeling phantom pain where his wings were damaged as a memory came to surface.

He could do nothing as his cheek was pushed against the cold stone of the cellar, his arms and legs restrained as he lay on his chest.

Xornoth knew what was going to happen to him and was terrified. The one that had him captive told him exactly what they were going to do; revenge for what he’d done to them and those they had known.

He felt a hand wrap around one of the primaries on his left wing and swiftly tear it from its place; he resisted the urge to cry out from the sheer agony of it.

They started with one at a time at first, then two, and then five. Xornoth began to beg and plead for mercy, his cries laced with desperation and fear.

Countless times the pain nearly caused him to black out, but somehow he unfortunately managed to stay conscious.

By the time the torture was over, his cries had descended into sobs as he lay in a pool of blood, the sight of ash-grey feathers strewn about stained with crimson made his stomach churn in horror.

When Grian had made a comment about crafting Xornoth an elytra it was with innocent intent, but the elf suddenly went tense and wrapped damaged wings around himself protectively as his eyes glazed over in what could only be fear.

“No! No please stop! I never wanted to hurt anyone, I had no choice! PLEASE!” he sobbed, “D-Don’t hurt my wings! H-Have mercy!”

Grian knew a panic attack when he saw it and reacted quickly, “Xornoth it’s alright, c’mon focus on my voice, no one is hurting you! Deep breaths, in and out.”

His words must have reached through to him as, slowly, Xornoth began to calm down, the haze in his eyes fading as he was brought back to reality.

“Ok, what are three things you can see?” Grian asked calmly.

“I...I see you...the trees...and the sand.”

“Three things you can feel?”

“My clothes...the heat...and...”

Xornoth was cut off as he felt something rub up against him and stiffened out of reflex, only relaxing once he registered what it was.

Draco had woken from its nap - no doubt from the commotion -, and had come over to comfort him, affectionately rubbing against his leg like a cat would.

“...and Drako.” he finished.

Grian gave him a smile, “Good. You with me again?”

Xornoth nodded before replying “Yes. Sorry, I thought I was getting better at handling my trauma.”

“Dude, I saw the scar tissue when I cleaned your wings, I know those feathers will never grow back. Honestly, I assumed you had plucked them yourself from the stress of being a fugitive and the trauma you’ve gone through. That’s not what happened though, is it?”

Xornoth shook his head “No, they were torn out as a means torture and condemnation by someone I wronged when corrupted.”

“That…that’s horrible, I’m so sorry for bringing any memories up, Xornoth.”

“It’s alright, you had no way of knowing.” Xornoth replied, now absentmindedly scratching Drako behind its horns and watching it then proceed to behave like a dog as it started wagging its tail.

A smile crossed Grian’s face at the sight, “Drako usually doesn’t like new people much but I think they’ve taken a liking to you.”

“You think so?” Xornoth asked, stopping his petting of the drakling as it climbed up onto his shoulders.

Grian nodded, “I think they’re content with hanging out on you for the rest of the ride home. Just let me know when you’re ready to head back.”

The sun had begun to set by the time they returned to Boatem and Drako had remained firmly on Xornoth’s shoulders the entire way home. “Thank you for the tour, Grian.” Xornoth said as he dismounted Impulse’s donkey, stoking its neck rewardingly as Drako leapt back to the avian’s shoulders. “I hope that one day I’ll be able to build as well as the rest of you do.”

Grian smiled as Drako made themself comfortable, “In time I’m sure you will, everyone has to start somewhere. Just send me or Scar a message when you’re ready to start learning the basics alright?”

Xornoth gave a nod before he and Grian went their separate ways for the night.

After freshening up and changing into a simple robe Xornoth found himself leaning against the backboard of his bed as he unsilenced his communicator and opened up the chat to see what the other Hermits were up to at this hour.

Not much was going on, given how late it was getting and he was about to close the chat again when a death message appeared in it.

MumboJumbo was blown up by MumboJumbo

<Iskall85> lol

<ImpulseSV> Nice try Mumbo!

Xornoth was concerned so he typed out his own response to the death of his fellow Boatem member.

<Xornoth> I’m confused.

<ImpulseSV> Boatem has a game between the four of us where we try to kill each other with end crystals.

<Xornoth> The things you Hermits find as fun pastimes baffles me.

<Renthedog> Trust me Xornoth, killing each other with end crystals is tame compared to some other things we’ve done here. You’ll get used to it.

<Xornoth> Wait, if I settle in Boatem do I have to participate in this game?

<ImpulseSV> Only if you want to.

<Xornoth> Ok, good, because I will be joining Boatem and very much would not like to be blown up unexpectedly.

<Xornoth> At least not at first

<GoodTimeWithScar> Oooh, where in Boatem, Xornoth? :D

<Xornoth> On top of the mountain, above Grian and under where he says you plan to build.

The chat eventually went quiet as the moon made itself known and most of the still-awake Hermits began to go to sleep. Xornoth decided that he best follow their example, tomorrow would be another busy day for him.

With a final message of a ‘goodnight’ he turned off the device on his wrist and laid down, curling into himself out of instinct and comfort before closing his eyes and letting the embrace of sleep greet him.

#empires smp #hermitcraft #hermitcraft x empires #empiresblr #hermitblr #Xornoth #grian #a search for belonging #My writing

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aurabird · 2 years

Text

A Search For Belonging

Chapter 5: The Meeting

Time has past, and now Xornoth gets to meet the rest of the Hermits.

Ao3 Link | Masterpost

---------------

The days that followed went by almost too fast for Xornoth but he had been given a clear bill of health. He was still very thin, but with the food and meals he’d been provided he’d at least gotten to a point where you could no longer see his ribs. His sprained foot had also healed and he was now able to walk around normally again.

Today, however, he was nervous. It was time for the entirety of Hermitcraft to have one of their annual meetings and his subsequent introduction to the rest of the Hermits he had yet to meet.

Xornoth went through the wardrobe at the clothes Grian had given him on his first day awake, all nicely hung alongside several pairs of pants the avian had sewn for him so he wouldn’t have to constantly borrow pairs from another Hermit.

Once changed into what he hoped was presentable attire Xornoth looked out the window. Several chairs had been set up in an open plot near the Swaggon, and already he could see Hermits beginning to gather.

He was astonished by the amount of races made up the group; from humans to hybrids and everything in between. He could see impulse laughing with a blonde half-elf wearing grey and red and a sheep satyr dressed in a white coat, Grian seemed to be talking with the two other members of Boatem and a werewolf. Over in a corner looming like a vulture was someone who had armor identical to Xisuma’s own but crimson instead of pink. The black visor of the individual’s helmet showed red eyes behind it, the glass almost giving them a glowing effect.

When Grian had said X’s brother liked to play the role of a dramatic villain he hadn’t been lying.

Eventually, once all the Hermits had gathered and settled down, Xisuma began to speak.

“Hello everyone and thank you all for coming. We have a few topics to discuss today and an announcement at the end of the meeting.”

Xornoth zoned out as he listened to the discussions; mostly about recent projects, future plans, and possible events. A lot of them went off topic and descended into banter and jokes, but nevertheless, everything that was being addressed was eventually resolved.

“Alright, if no one else has any other things to add, I would like to give the announcement.”

Xisuma’s words snapped him out of his mindless daze and back to being alert. This was it, this was where he’d be introduced to everyone. He took a few breaths, he could do this, everything would be fine.

“Hermitcraft has always been a place of new beginnings and a safehaven for those in need of a home. About a week ago, Grian and Impulse found an elf in critical condition washed up on the shoreline of Boatem; he comes from a land far, far away from here and like many of you has a past that he wishes to hide from.”

Murmurs came from the crowd; some were full of confusion, others of excitement.

“Why wait a week to tell us this?”

“Because he needed to recover first. You should have seen him Doc, poor guy was terrified and almost on the verge of death.”

“Ooh, I’m sure they’re an absolute darling! It’s been awhile since anyone joined us!”

“Wait, you’re adopting yet another person?!”

“Yes, Exiel. You’ve been around long enough to know that’s how things work here.”

“I was wondering what the big secret those two were hiding was, I thought it was some crazy cult nonsense.”

“Boatem is not a cult!”

“You have a hole into the void and sacrifice things to it, mostly yourselves amusingly enough.”

“Actually, out of the three of us, it’s mainly just Scar.”

Xisuma cleared his throat to silence everyone before speaking once more, “Everyone, please welcome our newest Hermit, Xornoth!”

At his cue, the elf in question timidly left the house, feeling tons of eyes instantly lock onto him as he made his way to X’s side.

The comments and murmurs stopped once he was in position and he nervously looked at the crowd until he caught sight of Impulse and Grian, who gave him reassuring gestures.

His anxiety was further calmed by Xisuma’s hand on his shoulder, “You’ve got this. Go on, introduce yourself.”

Xornoth took a few breaths before speaking, “It’s...It’s a pleasure to finally be able to meet all of you. I’ve heard so much from Grian and Impulse about Hermitcraft and...and I’m really glad to have found a place where, despite the horrible things I was forced to do in my past, I am treated like a person and not a monster.” he paused a moment before continuing, “I do not know what it means to be a Hermit, but I hope that with your help that over time I can learn.”

Cheers erupted from the crowd at that, filling Xornoth with warmth as he fought back happy tears.

“And that concludes the meeting. If you’d like to introduce yourselves to our newest member and make him feel welcomed you may do so now, but please try not to overwhelm him.”

Not all the Hermits were able to stay and talk, but those that did have to leave offered Xornoth their names and welcomed him with the promise of hopefully getting the chance to talk more later.

It was the two other members of Boatem that first approached him for actual conversation, one of them a man with a face bearing three diagonal scars dressed in a maroon suit and a strange hat; in his arms was a grey and white cat that didn’t seem at all pleased to be there. The other was a tall man with a mustache dressed in a fancy suit that was easily able to meet his gaze. If his memory served him right, Grian had said that their names were Scar and Mumbo respectfully.

“Well hello there!” Scar greeted, extending a hand for Xornoth to shake, a gesture that the elf was quick to respond to, “My name is Scar, owner of the wonderful shop that is the Swaggon and this is Jellie! Welcome to Hermitcraft!”

When Xornoth had clasped his hand into Scar’s own he felt a strange energy from under the man’s skin, one that was definitely a type of magic. He couldn’t quite pin down what it was.

Mumbo extended a hand next and Xornoth was quick to realize the faint red powder of redstone coating it, “Mumbo, somehow the CEO of Boatem’s shopping district and firm believer of peace, love, and plants.”

“It’s a pleasure, Grian and Impulse spoke about you two a lot during my recovery and I look forward to hopefully interacting more with you in the future.”

Before either of the two could reply, a short man with a wide and goofy grin showed up in a hoodie made out of moss, the glasses on his face making his eyes seem far bigger than they probably were. “Bdubs, Hermitcraft’s master of sleep, breeder of the finest horses, builder of mountains, and resident time king!”

Xornoth tilted his head in confusion, “King?” he questioned "Grian said nothing about kings on Hermitcraft."

“He likes to call himself that because it makes him feel important to make up for his height.” Scar cooed with a sly and teasing grin.

Those words seemed to strike a nerve in Bdubs, “I’ll have you know that I am very tall standing at 5’10 thank you very much!” he then turned back to Xornoth, “Anyway, I just wanted to pop in and introduce myself, if you ever are in need of a horse, a redstone contraption, or just want to chat then shoot me a message or come on down to the Big Eye’s bay!”

After the departure of the trio, Xornoth met many other Hermits eager to speak with him. Answering questions within his comfort zone when asked and trying to get used to the kindness being shown to him.

He met Ren and Doc of Octagon and inquired about the strange technological modifications they had that went far beyond anything he’d seen in the Grimlands. Doc, apparently, was well known for his innovation and skill with redstone and was the one that designed the strange technology. The creeper hybrid reminded him very much of Count Fwhip, just without the eccentricities and the fact his nature was more on the lines of insane than chaotic.

For a werewolf Ren was surprisingly laid back, the machine in his chest a method of substituting for internal damages respawn magic had been unable to repair after the Hermit had been attacked in the last area the group had called home. Xornoth found that the two of them got along quite well and Ren offered to help him out with anything he may need.

He met the half-elf and the sheep satyr (Tango and Zedaph respectively); the duo were close friends with Impulse and often hung out as a trio. Much like the said individual, they were both inclined in the complexity that was redstone however, unlike Doc who vowed to try and break every law in the universe, they used their skills for fun and chaos.

A duo by the names of Xb and Hypno tried to coax him into an IOU, something of which Grian and Impulse had both warned him about as such a simple piece of paper was dangerous in the wrong hands, their sly delivery and charismatic tones had almost succeeded in convincing him.

False and Stress were a delight to talk to, the latter offering him a visit to her home for tea and cookies if he ever felt like it and the former offering to spar with him if he ever needed to vent frustration or wished to practice. A knight by the name of Wels also extended a gesture for a sparring match should Xornoth be up to it.

Etho was a rather…strange one, his attire reminding Xornoth much of the many assassins that had been dispatched to kill him, but the man himself extremely nice by comparison; albeit mischievous and chaotic. His roommate Iskall, the bearded man with a mechanical eye and arm similar to Doc’s own, was loud but no less friendly despite his ramblings about how diorite was a horrible material and should be burned.

Xornoth neglected to mention how it was a staple type of stone in Rivendell architecture and that he himself quite liked it.

His meeting with Cub caused a chill to go down his spine at the strange aura of chaotic magic that seemed to radiate from the man, a magic that was identical to that of vexes. Xornoth realized that it was the same type of magic he'd sensed from Scar. Were the two of them hybrids? Unless it was some kind of illusion or glamor spell, they both looked pretty human to him.

The last duo he met was Cleo and Joe, a zombie and…something definitely not human despite appearances. Cleo was only mildly terrifying at how fiery and prone to violence she was and Joe was…interesting. Speaking with fancy words and forming sentences that with a few changes could pass off as riddles or nonsense. Nevertheless, they spoke of their castle in a flower forest and the former spoke of her ability to animate armor stands with magic

Eventually, the crowd died down and Xornoth found himself collapsing against the side of the Swaggon out of sheer exhaustion, his gaze looking up at the countless stars above him as he tried to pick out familiar constellations in the sky. He wasn’t used to talking so much since he’d not spoken beyond a few words during his time as a fugitive unless it was to plead asylum to one of the rulers that he had hoped would take him.

“Tired?” came Xisuma’s voice as the voidkind sat down next to him, he nodded before speaking.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve really had so much interaction, what with my past and all. I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything honestly, everyone was so welcoming and kind despite having only just met me today. I’m still not used to it and I think it will take a while before I am.”

“That’s just how the Hermits are, we can sympathize with each other because we all have things we want to leave behind us. From traumas to servitude under tyrants, to even wishing to escape a monster they once were. Every Hermit has a history and not every one of them is open about it. As the one responsible for the Hermits and the safety of Hermitcraft, I know everyone’s story but some of them I've sworn to keep secret from anyone besides myself and the one who trusted me with the information.”

Xornoth looked at his hands and arms, the scars left behind by Exor’s corruption would never fade, a constant reminder of who he once was. “Does it ever get easier?” he asked, “Does the pain of the past ever go away?”

Xisuma didn’t reply right away, seemingly contemplating an answer, “Some wounds may never heal completely, but they just may heal enough to be manageable. We are a family, Xornoth, and you are now a part of it as well; the burdens you bear no longer have to be faced alone.”

“I don’t even know where to start though Xisuma. I know Grian is going to take me on a tour of the continent tomorrow but I already see the amazing structures you’ve all built. I’m not like the rulers of my homeland where I can build with my own two hands, everything I ever created was with the aid of twisted magic.”

“Then we’ll teach you, no matter how long it takes.” XIsuma got to his feet and extended a hand to help the elf off the ground, “Go and get some rest, Xornoth. You’ve had a long day.”

Xornoth wrapped his arms around him, “Thank you, X for everything you have done for me.” he said before ending the embrace, “Goodnight.”

With that, Xornoth made his way back to his house, climbing into the bed he’d grown to love over the past week.

Tomorrow, he would get to see the continent beyond the familiar surroundings of Boatem, one of the first steps to truly becoming a part of Hermitcraft’s society. After that, perhaps he could find a place to start building a megabase of his own.

#empires smp #hermitcraft #hermitcraft x empires #empiresblr #hermitblr #Xornoth #grian #impulseSV #xisuma #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #bdoubleo100 #a search for belonging #My writing

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aurabird · 2 years

Text

A Search For Belonging

Chapter 4: Learning

Xornoth learns a few things from his newfound friends about Hermit society and that they always support their own.

Ao3 Link | Masterpost

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He lay against the wall uncomfortably, his arms chained above his head and his legs to the floor. It was morbidly poetic, he’d chained three others up like this and tortured them and now here he himself was in the same position.

The cell was cold and damp from the chilly Rivendell weather, the shackles binding him freezing against his flesh. He and Scott never visited the prisons when they were princes but he knew that they were designed to be miserable for those held there.

A few wounds leaked blood onto the ground, given to him by various guards who he had obviously wronged under Exor’s command. He wished he could apologize but they either never gave him a chance to or his fear of their actions would prevent him from speaking.

Some of the guards took pity and mercy on him, sneaking more or better food or even weaker health potions.

Yet despite everything, Xornoth knew his days were numbered. In a few days he was to be executed publicly, a fate he’d expected after the things he had done and one rightfully deserved.

He let out a sigh and shifted a little in an attempt to get into a more comfortable position before closing his eyes and surrendering to the clutches of sleep.

When Xornoth opened his eyes the following morning, he’d expected a cold dungeon cell or some random place in the wilderness and for everything that happened the day before to have been a dream. To his relief, he awoke in a familiar bed, with familiar walls, and the light snoring of Grian who had opted to fall asleep in his chair.

Impulse was nowhere to be found, but given the smell of food and the clinking of dishes from downstairs, he guessed that the man was cooking breakfast for them all.

Weakness still remained in his body so he reached for the box of potions still at the side of his bed and grabbed another strength one to drink along with a glass of water that had been left there as well.

With the strength potion in his system, he managed to sit himself up and turned to look out the window next to his bed at the world beyond.

In the distance he could see another house and what looked like an ent holding a strange square thing similar to something he’d seen in Mezalea. To the right of them a large copper wagon and to the left, a massive and overgrown stone structure that looked like an armchair. In the distance was a beautiful mountain that stretched high into the sky and in the center of it all, a tower of rowboats stacked on top of each other on a beam that spanned over what seemed to be a hole in the ground.

Footsteps coming up the stairs drew his attention and he turned to see Impulse with the same tray as the day before and three plates with bacon and waffles, if his memory served him right. “Morning, Xornoth!” he greeted as he offered one, “Sleep alright?”

Xornoth took the plate and nodded, “Thank you. To be honest I...didn’t actually think I’d wake up here...it all seemed too good to be true, you know?”

“Understandable, honestly.” Impulse replied as he walked over to wake Grian.

Over breakfast Xornoth was told that, since he was still not strong enough to move around on his own and the sprain in his left foot, Xisuma had suggested that he recover some more before venturing out.

He was fine with this of course, he knew that he was safe here and could actually take time to heal, both physically and psychologically.

Boredom wasn’t a problem as Impulse and Grian shared tales of some of the things that had occurred so far and a few stories from the past. He listened, mostly, not really having many tales of his own pre-corruption that he could remember.

The duo had just finished the tale of them against Area 77 when Xisuma had decided to stop by briefly and give Xornoth a satchel and a communicator, the sight of his own name etched into the straps of both made him almost cry again at the fact he had something that would officially make him part of the Hermits.

Once their admin had left and the trio were finished eating, Impulse went to clean up the dishes, leaving Grian to explain how the device worked.

“Ok, so one nifty function of these things aside from it being soulbound and preventing you from losing it, is that it’ll allow you to respawn upon death.” Grian said casually.

Xornoth was shocked by the revelation, “Wait you all can respawn?!”

“Ah, right. I remember you saying that back in your homeland only certain individuals had that ability.”

“Yeah. How do you guys manage to do it?”

“Respawn magic is everywhere in the world, but for it to actually work it needs to be channeled to a person with some form of conduit. Our communicators channel respawn magic to us and so we are able to defy death. Xisuma is the one who figured out how to give them that functionality because, as a voidkind, he has powerful magic at his disposal.”

The fact Grian was able to say that with such a casual tone shouldn’t have surprised Xornoth at this point but it did, as did the fact that Xisuma was a voidkind. He’d only thought they were myths, ancient Gods borne of the universe’s entropy that returned the void of Oblivion after a time, leaving the world in the hands of younger deities.

“As you can see on the default screen, the day and your current coordinates on the continent are displayed. If you get a private message, a little icon will show up in the corner. This button here opens and closes the chat and the keyboard to go with it. If you hit the key that says ‘enter’ you then will be able to type something to everyone, tapping it again once the message is ready will send it. If you hit ‘tab’ and then select a name, it’ll open a private chat between you and the person. Try it with mine.”

Xornoth followed the instructions given, albeit slowly.

<Xornoth > Grian> Hello?

<Grian > Xornoth> Hi!

A smile crossed Xornoth’s face at the alert sound and the reply that came with it.

“Alright, now that you know how to use chat, this button opens up a voice channel where you can speak to others despite how far you are from them as long as they join the same group. For private groups involving a few people you do the same steps as if you were going to open a private message, just hit ‘tab’ and select who you want to invite to the call and then you’re good. Setting a chat group to public will allow any other Hermit to join it at will. To leave the call, just hit the button again.”

Xornoth gave a nod for Grian to continue.

“This button here turns on the camera function so you can take a picture of something, then you can share it in chat or just pull it up on the communicator. Like the voice call, just hit the button again to turn the cam off”

“What about the fourth button?”

“That one silences the device, good for when you’re not looking to get notification alerts.”

He messed around with the device a little bit before lowering his arm to his side and looking out the window at the world beyond once more. “Grian, could you tell me a bit more about Hermitcraft itself?”

“Sure, what do you want to know about it?”

“Why was it so strange for me to have washed ashore here? You said outsiders coming to Hermitcraft were rare.”

“Because Xisuma has such powerful magic any lands currently occupied by us Hermits are protected by a spell that only few are able to pass through; usually those trying to escape their pasts. We haven’t had anyone new show up for about two years now.”

“You’ve lived on this continent for two years?”

Grian shook his head “No, we jump between areas after extended periods of time, starting over from nothing and building new structures. The lands we leave behind simply become the sources of myths and fables. We’ve only been on this continent for I think...I dunno, a good few months.”

“Are all your structures as massive as the ones I can see out the window?”

“Yup, we call them megabases. Some of us work with the land we have, others terraform it, and the more crazy of us even build terrain from scratch such as the giant stone armchair you see. Here in Boatem, the plan is to somehow connect all of our bases together to form a gigabase!”

The more Xornoth heard, the more fascinated he was, “And...you guys never fight or war with each other? I mean, it was rarer in present-day Empiria than in the past but...”

“We play what we call ‘war games’. Generally, these consist of opposing sides and a lot of pranks.”

Xornoth tilted his head in confusion. Pranks? As a form of combat?

Grian must have noticed his expression because he laughed, “Well there is occasionally fighting and killing each other but our wars are generally resolved with some form of competitive game. Despite any squabbles going on, we’re all still friends during, between, and after”

He simply nodded, not sure how to respond to the explanation. “What about the economy? On Empiria, it was trade based through exports and we used emeralds and coins as currency.”

“Our economy is diamond based mostly, though some places may accept other resources. Then you have IOUs and some nonsense Xisuma and his brother have going on called Derpcoin.”

Xornoth blinked a few times at the information, “X has a brother?”

“Yeah, and boy if you’re looking for someone that likes to pretend they are some overly dramatic villain, you’ll find nobody is better at that than Exiel. He calls himself evil but really, he's just naughty and mischievous.”

“Is he voidkind too?”

“Yes, but from what I understand, events in the past stripped him of most of his powers. I think all he can really do now is use lightning magic.”

There was a pause before Grian spoke again, “Hmm, hang on, I’m going to see if Impulse has a map of the continent somewhere so I can show you where everything is.”

Before Xornoth could give any sort of reply, Grian had already leapt over the railing, a startled sound from the man downstairs followed, bringing a small grin of amusement to his face.

While the avian was away, he decided to take the opportunity to open up the chat on his communicator, reading the various messages that were rolling in on the - ‘holographic’, as Grian had called it - screen.

<Zedaph> Anyone want to aid me in science? :D

<Tango> By ‘science’ he means having you do ridiculous and pointless things while he watches from behind glass.

<BdoubleO100> I’m down, got nothing better to do while I wait for Etho to wire the racetrack

<Zedaph> Great! Meet at my place when you’re ready!

<Iskall85> Speaking of him...Etho, why is there DIORITE in the storage system?!

<Etho> Wasn’t me! I know how much you hate it!

<GoodTimeWithScar> Iskall, might I interest you in the ~:Swaggon:~ diorite disposal service?

<Iskall85> When did that become a thing?

<GoodTimeWithScar> Just now! :3

Xornoth wanted so badly to get in on the antics but knew better. He was a stranger to these people and as far as they were aware, he wasn’t actually here.

‘Soon.’ He reminded himself, soon he’d get to meet all the other Hermits. Xisuma had said that in a few days they were going to have one of their annual meetings and that he’d be introduced then.

He looked up as Grian returned with Impulse, a rolled-up piece of parchment in hand. Xornoth waved in greeting as the duo sat down, opening what was the mentioned map of the continent at the foot of the bed.

Several sections were surrounded by different-colored lines, boundaries, presumably. As well as what looked to resemble roads and several circles with strange logos in them.

The duo went on to explain each area of the map, as well as the other major groups and settlements on the continent. There were five major shopping districts in total: Boatem, Octagon, Big Eyes, The Evil Emporium, and Horse Head Farms. Normally, they would have one centralized shopping area but, since they were all on a single continent, shops were found at everyone’s bases with the exception of a few that were sporadically along major roads and intersections.

Xornoth was surprised just how much the Hermits had built in only a few months' time.

“Once you’re up and about we’ll take you on a tour so you can figure out where you want to settle down. Until then though, you’re free to call this house your home since I’ve moved out!” Impulse concluded with a grin.

A smile crept onto Xornoth’s face, “Thank you. I’d...I’d love that.”

Night almost came too quickly and Xornoth bid his two friends goodnight as they both left to their bases, leaving him alone to stare at the ceiling, deeply lost in thought.

It wasn’t about anything negative of course. No, he pondered the ideas of what he’d build as a base. What materials would he have to gather? He almost wanted to build something nostalgic to Rivendell with lots of spruce wood, cyan colors, and gold. Or maybe perhaps something from another one of the empires? He’d always found some of the other ruler’s buildings stunning.

The thought of building something with his own hands and not twisted magic made him giddy like a child. But, he knew that if he was to be up and about any time soon, then he needed rest.

Xornoth closed his eyes, letting himself drift into what he had assumed would be the blissful clutches of sleep.

Unfortunately, his mind had other ideas.

He writhed in pain as dark magic twisted and warped his body. His flesh was stained black before being seared with veins of corruption as the fungal vines intertwined themselves with his blood and bones, taking control of his motor functions. His wings burned as corruption found its way there as well, tainting his feathers. His fingers were turned to claws and his teeth into fangs, his antlers growing into large, curved horns that stained his hair in blood as they grew.

But it wasn’t just physical pain that Exor was putting him through, the dark stag also tore at his mind with powerful cognitive abilities, messing with his memories and thoughts.

Love for his brother turned to resentment, a desire to protect becoming one to destroy. Kindness became malice, love became hate. Xornoth tried to fight back against the mental manipulation, only to fail as Exor increased the amount of pain being inflicted.

Cruel laughter echoed around him as he screamed from the agony, helpless to do anything but accept his fate.

Xornoth jolted awake with a cry, phantom pain radiating from the corruption scars on his body. He looked around the room like a trapped animal as he shook like a leaf, breathing heavily in panic.

It took him a while to register where he was but, once he did, he closed his eyes to try and calm himself. He was alright, he was safe in Impulse’s - no, his now - starter house, not at Exor’s mercy and not in a prison cell.

That didn’t stop the tears going down his face, he reached up to wipe them away before curling into a ball as if to protect himself.

He looked at the clock on the wall to find it was a few hours past midnight before looking at the communicator on his wrist. He knew that going back to sleep now was impossible, the images still flashing in his head. He...he needed to talk to someone, he was scared.

Xornoth opened the chat screen on his communicator to check if anyone was awake at this hour and was relieved when he saw that Impulse was active.

<Xornoth > ImpulseSV> Impulse, are you...are you busy?

<ImpulseSV > Xornoth> Xornoth, I didn’t expect you to be awake. I’m not super busy, just testing things. What’s up?

<Xornoth > ImpulseSV> Could you...maybe come over again? I...I don’t want to be alone right now.

<ImpulseSV > Xornoth> Sure, I’ll be over in a sec.

<Xornoth > ImpulseSV> Thank you.

When Impulse had gotten a private message he had expected it to be Tango or Zed scolding him for being up so late. Finding out the message was from Xornoth had been a surprise, the request the elf gave even more so.

He had wasted no time in flying over, finding Xornoth curled into himself on the bed; his eyes were puffy from crying, the look in them a mix of several emotions.

“Oh Xornoth,” he began sympathetically as he sat down on the bed, “what happened?”

“I...I had a nightmare...about what Exor did to me, what he turned me into. It wouldn’t be the first time this has happened but I thought that being here would make the nightmares go away.”

“You’ve been through a lot of trauma, Xornoth. That takes time to heal no matter how safe you may be or feel. The only difference now is that you don’t have to deal with it alone anymore. If you want to talk about it then I’m willing to listen.”

Impulse stayed with Xornoth as he recounted the nightmare, listening to every word without interrupting. By the time Xornoth was done, he was once again an emotional wreck and had found himself in his friend’s embrace. Despite that fact, he felt much better now that he’d spoken about everything.

“Can you stay?” Xornoth asked as Impulse ended the hug.

“Sure buddy, I should probably get some sleep myself anyway.”

After a few minutes, the bedroom was silent save quiet snores.

#empires smp #hermitcraft #empiresblr #hermitcraft x empires #hermitblr #a search for belonging #My writing #Xornoth #grian #impulseSV

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