Falling Feathers - Poppies_and_Lilacs - Hermitcraft SMP [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1: The Intruder from the Deep Void

Chapter Text

Arc 1 - Healing

He was surrounded by darkness, bits and lines of code buzzing around him.
The void between worlds and dimensions was... different. Different from any place he had been to before.
Sure, he knew the soft pressure of end air on his lungs, the hot and sulphuric air that made him cough in the nether and the clear and fresh air of the overworld...oh how much he missed it.
But nothing of this compared to the pressure on his entire body, a feeling similar to drowning.

Xelqua - no, Grian - felt like he would pass out at any second. His head was cloudy, his mind trying to grasp onto the code around him, to find a way out of this place. Away from here, away from Them.
God, if he didn't find a place to crash in he'd probably just die here, falling apart into nothing more than a multitude of lines of code and tiny bits. No memento of him left. Nothing to put into the books of players in the main hub Server.
One hand pressed on his waist in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding of a wound he had gained during his escape, the other stretched out to find something, anything.
A place to rest and heal, a place he could be safe at.
A place the Watchers wouldn't reach.

For now he was safe from them, knowing that they would not risk following him into the deep void; not unprepared at least.
But his own safety was at risk here.
Honestly, if he had any other choice or plan he would have never dived into the void, knowing all too well about the danger it contained from his admin classes. But how else does someone escape from the Watchers? More powerful than admins, almost akin to gods of the worlds. Worshipped once until their descent into madness.
His lips curled in a faint smile, closing his eyes in an attempt to fight off the wave of dizziness overcoming him.

Grian just wanted to go back home. He wanted to go back to his friends, his siblings, his flock.
But he wasn't even sure if he would be able to ever find his way back to Evo again, his bond to the server as an admin severed years ago when he made the hard decision to-
No. No, if his mind went down this road now then he would surely never get out of here.

He forced his fingers to curl into his wound in an attempt to focus, focus on the pain and nothing more that spread in his torso, radiating slowly to the rest of his body.
He opened his eyes again, trying to at least stop the scream that forced its way up his throat.
But that would be way too easy, wouldn't it?

Of course he ripped open his mouth in a distorted grimace of pain and anguish, yet all sound he would have made had been swallowed by the void around him.
Tears clung to his lashes, unable to fall in any direction as there was no gravity.
Blurring his vision, making him gasp for air that was not there.

no no NO!

He needed to stay awake, to keep his focus and get back to work. Grian stretched out a hand once more, his fingertip touching a line of code as he tried to find a way into it.
A way into the code, into the deep void to look for an uninhabited world, server, anything. And it was so hard to not get swallowed up immediately, pulled into the swirl of what created every entity, block and player.

He kept looking, trying to find a hole, a weak spot, anything he could slip through.
And he found one! Still, something kept him and all admin controls he could think of out.

This went beyond a simple whitelist, some anti-virus and simple safety mechanisms and with each passing second he knew he got closer and closer to his final death. Time was ticking.

Grian was carrying said code within himself. A painful truth he remembered time and time again when he glanced into a mirror. His eyes glimmering purple, his once colorful wings now in a muted lavender.
Changed by Them , their very existence burnt into his code.

…What should he keep trying for then? There was no way he would survive the way to another world in time. He would die here.
It was all futile. His escape, his hope, his determination. All for naught!
If only They hadn’t laid their hands on his code-

…wait. If Watchers could do it, then what kept him from doing it himself?
He might have no clue on what to do, or how to do it…but he could at least try? He would die anyway, so what harm could it be to rip at his own coding now?

And so Xelqua placed the bloodied hand on his chest. He kept the other hand on the server, not sure if he would drift away if he just let go. He really didn't want to try out.

Closing his eyes he resisted the urge to take a few deep breaths, trying to calm the ever so growing panic.
He would be touching his own code. Oh, how much he hated this, especially after what the Watchers had done. Such an intrusive and scary feeling.
Then he activated the remaining power he had left, forcing his hand into his chest without another single thought. Act fast, don’t let the panic take over.
Grian could feel the cold tingle of his hand on his very existence, his soul you could even argue.
He tried to find the rotten parts, the lines that had turned him into… this.

He just needed to rip out and destroy them little by little, until the wall in front of him would let him slip through the weak spot.
And he needed to hope that he wouldn't damage his player code during this.

But the tugging on his leg continued, more frantic with each passing second. Already slowly working its way up to dissolve him.
And if Xelqua didn't manage to find the Watcher components in his code soon enough…

I don’t wanna die.

He started to move his hand more frantically, brushing over lines and blocks of text. His heart was racing, he heard his blood rushing in his ears. And each second felt like an eternity.

I don’t wanna die.

Until he felt something foreign. Something so…wrong and weird that he didn't waste any more thoughts, wrapping his hand around it as he started to pull, rip, destroy the parts of his soul.
Further and further, more and more in a blind flurry of emotions with only one thought left.

I don’t want to die.

Again and again as he felt the resistance on his other hand dwindle slowly. But not enough yet.
Suddenly he was thrown off balance, opening his eyes in fear that he failed, that he broke something.
That he damaged himself irreversibly.
He’d die and just disappear. He would never see his family again.

A sob broke through his lips as he finally let go of his own code, wrapping his arms around him, his undamaged wing attempting to shield him from everything as he felt the tears well up once more.
A soft cocoon of red, yellow and blue...

A soft cocoon of red, yellow and blue.
A soft cocoon of red, yellow and blue!

Grian could feel the air brush through his feathers, the pain returning with such a force that he let out another gasp, another noise.

Did he do it? Did he enter the world successfully?
Could he finally have some hope?
He laughed desperately, stretching out his wing as he looked around, wind still breezing through his hair as he fell, wings unable to carry him in their current state.

He saw the ground coming closer, the colors of the overworld, inhaled the air of the overworld.
A safe place. A haven.

And as he hit the ground he prayed that he didn't stumble upon a permadeath server.

4̷̞͈̤̩̑̊̀̏̾̈ͅ7̷̼̽̾͆̃͘ ̵̧̰̭̳̰͎̌̈́̈́̿̔̅7̵̥͈̮͊͆̓͊̾͝͠2̴̭̬͎̣̩̗̖̣̃̄̊̉͗͒ ̵̧̙̭͎́͊̆̅͛͑͂̚̕̚6̶̧̥͖͚̰͇̘͈̩͕̈́͘͠9̶̩̟̓͂̅̄̇̓̏͑̈́͘̚ ̶̨̺͈̳̥͕̼͓̋6̷̞͂̈́͝ͅ1̵̹̾̄̕ ̵̧̢̡̨̜͇̠͇̠̻̙͊́̎̑̒͆̅̿͝6̷̡̟̦̥̖͖̿̋ͅͅͅͅE̷̢̙̠͕͚̾̾͛͘ joined the game.

4̷̞͈̤̩̑̊̀̏̾̈ͅ7̷̼̽̾͆̃͘ ̵̧̰̭̳̰͎̌̈́̈́̿̔̅7̵̥͈̮͊͆̓͊̾͝͠2̴̭̬͎̣̩̗̖̣̃̄̊̉͗͒ ̵̧̙̭͎́͊̆̅͛͑͂̚̕̚6̶̧̥͖͚̰͇̘͈̩͕̈́͘͠9̶̩̟̓͂̅̄̇̓̏͑̈́͘̚ ̶̨̺͈̳̥͕̼͓̋6̷̞͂̈́͝ͅ1̵̹̾̄̕ ̵̧̢̡̨̜͇̠͇̠̻̙͊́̎̑̒͆̅̿͝6̷̡̟̦̥̖͖̿̋ͅͅͅͅE̷̢̙̠͕͚̾̾͛͘ hit the ground too hard.

Meanwhile at worldspawn Xisuma made some last preparations for the next season of Hermitcraft, checking twice that the new server would be safe.
After everything that happened during the Evo incident…
The admin shook his head, focusing back on his communicator and the admin panels he had put up.

Most safety precautions had been set up the minute he created the world, letting them run for a while to check their efficiency. Xisuma had put a lot of effort into them since the incident and they haven't failed him once yet.
He would keep his players safe, no matter what comes.

Well, what he didn't expect was the sudden ping of the chat, notifying him of…something joining the world?
How-

Xisuma pulled up the gamerules again, making sure he had put up the whitelist just right…and there it was, no one besides the Hermits listed.
So how for voids sake did they join?

His questions would soon be answered when the death message followed not shortly. How did they already die?
With a few quick keystrokes Xisuma had summoned himself a netherite sword, testing its weight in his hands. Usually he wouldn't abuse his admin powers but in this situation…

And then he waited. Turning around, trying to make sure he wouldn't miss their respawn. Xisuma eventually spotted a pile of colorful feathers, wings wrapped around a body on the ground.
And a loud, pained groan.

He got closer, sword pointed at the mysterious person. They should catch themself sooner than later - Hermitcraft was set up for a fast and painless respawn after all.
Any moment now, right?

But they didn't.

And with a heavy heart Xisuma realised that something was very, very wrong.

Chapter 2: Meeting the Server Admin

Chapter Text

Grian didn't open his eyes immediately, heart still racing in his chest from the sudden death and respawn. But he still felt like he had been run over by a horde of ravagers.

He groaned, trying to roll to the side, heaving himself up as he was stopped by a sudden and sharp pain on his waist.
What?
Shouldn't that have healed? He just respawned, right? It should have healed.
Then he heard the faint steps of another person getting closer.
Grian froze, eyes widening. No one should have been on the server, no one should have been able to find him.

Were the Watchers already after him? Had they cracked the security system here that he so painstakingly tried to slip past by? Would they lock him up again, forced to do nothing but watch and practise an ancient form of magic which took a toll on his mortal body?
Please no, no more. I’d rather die.

His arms started to shake and Grian got more and more painfully aware that his waist was not the only damage that stayed past his death.
His left wing still hung low, limp, bone probably broken.
And he felt a weird leftover tingle on his leg.

“...are you okay…?”
And Grian almost started to cry again.
This was a voice he didn’t recognize, a voice that sounded so different from the Watchers. A voice that sounded…so kind compared to all he had heard the past years.

A voice that could try to make him drop his guard.

He really did try to not move another muscle, to just stay still and hope the other would disappear. Following the principle of ‘if I don’t move they can’t see me'.
But his arms couldn't support his weight anymore, giving in as he smacked his face right back into the dirt beneath him.

Grian decided to just risk it. Twist his head a bit, take a glance at the person who surprised him so suddenly.

What he didn't expect was to see someone in a green suit, a helmet blocking the view on his face from Grian’s current position. Something in this person’s hand seemed to reflect the sunlight, a sword. And Grian’s mind started to race again.

They will hurt me. Dangerous. Go hide. His instincts screamed at him.

Why would someone wear a suit like this on a server? Didn't it obstruct the player? Why would anyone need it? Did they have a reason? Who was this? Would they hurt him? Would they hold him down and let the Watchers know? Or the hub police?
Would Grian end up back on an experimentation table, locked up and probed on many things-

Movement caught his attention as the other placed his weapon on the ground, lifting up his hands afterwards in a calming movement.
“Hey there, I won’t hurt you as long as you don't hurt me.”

And this time Grian actually started to cry.
Memories of his time at the Watchers appeared in his mind. Empty promises of no pain. Empty promises of fame and power. Empty promises of leaving his previous server unharmed, to not touch or move anything while his friends lived there.
Nothing but lies.

“My name is Xisuma. I’m the admin of this server.” the other continued, kneeling down on his position to not tower over the avian.

Grian kept his eyes on the helmet of the person until he could finally take a glance at their eyes through the visor, and it felt like just another gut punch.
Eyes as deep as the void. A voidwalker.

Great! Amazing! Grian managed to escape the Watchers, flee through the deep void and find a server to recoup on, only to run into a bloody voidwalker! Just perfect!

He remembered the times the Watchers had cursed the voidwalkers and their skill in manipulating code. Maybe not as skillful as They could, but still able to kill one of them if they wanted to.
Still able to read and touch his code and figure out what he was.
He would kill him.

What was next? The hub police appearing suddenly? The Listeners jumping into action here? He closed his eyes as he leaned his head back on the ground, taking a shaky breath.

Oh void, how good it felt to feel the cool grass on his cheek.

He wouldn't let the other kill him before he didn't have the chance to enjoy the sun on his back, warming up his bruised body. Not before he had the chance to hear the chirping of birds, the pitter-patter of water in the distance.
All those signs of life surrounding him, comforting his damaged soul.

And then he opened them again, staring at the other warily.

“‘m sorry. Thought this place was abandoned…” he pressed out, voice hoarse and thin.
Appear small and non threatening .

The other, Xisuma , nodded slowly, eyes scanning up and down his body. Grian was tense, trying to ready himself to jump up and run. (Deep down he knew it was impossible in his current condition.)

“...did They do this to you?”

And Grian couldn't answer. Every excuse he could think of would just pull him down further into danger.
And Xisuma continued to fill the heavy silence between them with his oh so calming voice.

“...like, this server is set to full respawn. Technically there shouldn’t be any wounds left unless- Well, you have been attacked by a Watcher.”

…Attacked by- He lifted his head up again, a panicked stare at the other. Attacks from Them didn't heal with a normal respawn? So he would die either way here?
Never fly again?

Grian decided to spill some…half truths. If he could get the other to help him-
“‘ve been held hostage. Just escaped.”

He didn’t even know that the eyes of a voidwalker could darken even more and the cursed part of Grian, this little part of Xelqua shivered in fear.

If he could he would have laughed at how complicated the whole situation was. Grian’s base, player, admin and watcher code going haywire at the same time in a body that was never meant to carry so much power.

“I see, I’m sorry…I can- …May I patch you up? I really don’t want you to bleed to death right here.” The admin said, holding out a hand. Empty, palm upwards.

Grian stared at it, furrowing his brows. He really had no way of knowing what the voidwalker was thinking. Why did he offer his help? What was his goal? Did he want to-

“Don’t touch my code!” He gasped out panicked, eyes scanning once more for a way to escape. He had enough of people meddling with him, changing him against his will, harming him .

And once the voidwalker realised that Grian still carried some watcher code within him he wouldn't hesitate to ki-

“I won’t. I promise.”

Should he trust those words? Could he trust those words?

Those eyes that should be nothing but cold void showed so much compassion and worry. Worry for a stranger. Worry for an intruder on his server.

Oh, how much he wanted to trust. To have someone he could rely on. To finally have some company again.

The years of being isolated in the Watcher’s domain had left his avian instincts shrivelled up, screaming for his nest, his family and his flock. All gone. Nothing to find comfort in.

And so he reached out slowly, eyes panning from the hand to the eyes of the voidwalker and then back.
He stopped shortly before he touched the other’s gloved hand.
“...you swear?” he whispered weakly.

“On my honor as an admin.”

And Grian finally lowered his hand, expecting it to be a cold surface.
Surprisingly he could feel the body warmth radiating from within the suit, the soft pressure of a hand in his.
Biting his lip he kept his eyes on their hands, worried about what might happen now.

Grian had either made a mistake or…
He actually got lucky to find a decent person.

Xisuma exhaled, nodding more to himself as he closed the last gap between those two.
“I’d like to sit you up properly first. Then I’d like to stop the bleeding. Afterwards I’ll take care of your wing. No worries, I promise I passed admin school with flying colors and know the basics about avians. Besides, one of my people is an avian too.”

Grian nodded slowly as he used the help from the other to sit up, scrunching his face as the pain on his waist kept pulsating through his body. The thought of letting the stranger touch his wings made him anxious, feathers puffing out agitated.
At least the weird feeling in his leg had stopped, looking as normal as usual.

Together they managed to undress his shirt, the voidwalker frowning at the gaping wound on his waist. Grian knew it was bad, he himself hadn't wasted a thought to worsen the state of it just to stay awake for a few seconds longer, grounding himself with the pain during his escape.
It would leave a scar.

And after a few minutes of silently working, Grian felt the weight of everything that happened crash on his shoulders at the same time. He made it, he was safe temporarily. He wouldn't die - at least not permanently.
And he had someone who took care of his wounds - for now.

“...I would like to touch your wing now. I know you’d prefer not to but…I need to straighten some feathers before I can put on something to stabilise the broken bone.”

Grian sat still, fingers clenched into the fabric of his pants. Expecting the worst already, untrained hands on his already hurting wings. Trying to help sloppily.

His wings twitched, his body tense from his instincts screaming loudly.

No! Not the wings! Hands off! Run, flee! Hide!

But it would just be worse if he ran, if he refused. They usually found him and it would hurt even more if he prolonged this.
Would it be the same here?

With each passing second he froze up more until he felt like he was made out of stone, biting his lip tightly as he waited for the undesired touch.

…Nothing happened.

Grian twisted his head slightly, looking up at the man in the suit, head tilted slightly.

Confusion. Why was the other not starting already? What was he waiting for?
The Watcher's had never waited for anything, never given him a chance to refuse…
But he was not with Them anymore.

“...yeah?” Grian then said slowly, feeling weirdly touched by the fact that the other seemed to wait for his approval.
His feathers were still fluffed up, the wings not having changed their half scared and half aggressive positioning since they were mentioned. (Sending an awfully deep pain through the entirety of Grian’s left shoulder and back. How badly was his wing injured?)

The avian shook his head, trying to flutter his fine wing to get rid of the tension, taking a few deep breaths.
Nothing could hurt more than what Watcher’s had done to him. The other would help him.
He’d stop when asked to, right?
He could trust the server admin, right?

Xisuma hadn’t attacked him yet despite having the weapons for it.
He hadn't touched his code and his damned eyes still carried too much warmth.
Was a person like this even capable of evil? Probably. Grian had long given up on the benefit of the doubt, hands burnt too many times.

But they were at a stalemate here. Grian didn't want him to touch his wings at all, already in pain just from thinking about it. But…if this wound wouldn't heal from respawns-
What if the bones healed wrong? What if the pain got even worse?
What if he would never be able to fly again-

No!

Panic returned and Grian gasped desperately, trying to fight his inner demons.
Letting the other touch his wings was a small price to pay if it meant he could keep flying, right?
And if he hurt him more Grian could just force a respawn and-

“Hey- hey, take a deep breath…I won’t force you.”

Not knowing how it happened Grian snapped back to reality, staring right into the voidwalkers eyes in front of him, both hands stretched out with palms up.

No threat. Check it out. Test it.

Following his instincts Grian reached out, grabbing one of the hands as he put his whole focus on it - not even hearing the surprised “oh?” from the other.
The avian squished the hand gently. Soft and warm , just like the first time he had touched it. The gloves stopped him from feeling the skin but this was still so much more comforting than the Watchers cold claws.
He tapped the fingertips lightly, taking in a shaky breath as he noticed that his heart had calmed again.

When he finally felt like could handle it, instincts eased, he looked up. For a second it felt like the admin’s eyes carried so much deep and raw pain, and then it was all gone again. Did Grian hallucinate? Had he lost too much blood already?

Okay, just this time. To help heal his wing. Just once.

“Yes…? Yes, you may.” Grian repeated, trying to keep his voice stable, finally letting go of the other’s hand.
Xisuma positioned himself on the front of his left wing so that Grian could watch.
And part of him was eternally grateful for this.

“Okay, thank you. Then I’ll start now.”

One last warning before hands started to move over his limp wing. Surprisingly…gentle.
The admin started to carefully brush over his broken extremity to straighten some feathers, cleaning and even pulling some broken ones.
Now wait a second! Before he even knew it Grian realised that the other preened him. And that not even badly!

He almost pulled away, heart clenching at the display of kindness.

Friend cleans wings!

For voids sake, a friend? Grian cursed his little bird brain, pressing a hand on his lips to choke down a chirp.
The admin was not his friend, and those instincts showed him how much his basic needs had suffered the past years.
Latching onto the first person he met after his escape? How ridiculous!

The admin had stopped, a worried look on his face as he glanced at the avian.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

Not trusting his own voice the avian just shook his head, staring at the other before nodding to confirm he could continue.
And he did. Straightening feathers, removing dirt, gently pulling out broken ones. With each movement Grian felt the tension leaving his body, the horrible itching leaving his wings. His head felt like it was full of cotton, easing into the touch as he let out another chirp. And he felt safe to do so.

Grian felt his eyes flutter shut, his brain fighting to stay awake, to not trust this stranger to this extent.
But his bird brain just chirped

“Safety! Friend! Rest!”

And without a chance to win this internal fight Grian fell asleep to the distant memory of a safe home.

Xisuma watched as the tension left the weakened body the further he went with his treatment.
Sure, it was neither professional nor perfect, but it would stop the intruder from dying.

A hostage of the Watchers.
Xisuma didn't even know that They still had some hostages, most of them having been freed during the war. He had personally made sure of it after they laid their hands on his family.

It hurt. With each action he saw the mirror of what happened to other prisoners, what happened to his family. Eyes constantly jumping between each noise and movement, distrust and fear in them.
He had fought so hard to make sure no one would suffer because of Them anymore and he still failed.

Xisuma froze as the other slumped forward just as he finished plucking out a piece of wood from between some cut primaries. He immediately made sure that the boy was still breathing, relaxing once he saw the even movement of his chest.

The admin frowned, worried about how much the other must have endured until he crashed into this server.
Quite literally.
The war had been years ago, and either he was a hostage since then or a recently kidnapped one. Xisuma prayed it would be the latter.

He pondered whether he should call the authorities, have them handle the avian as yet another victim of those horrible creatures.
But something deep in his chest made him hesitate.

Was it the panic the boy displayed when he thought that Xisuma would touch his code?
Was it the way he looked like he was still being followed? Still hunted?
Constantly on edge, hesitant to even grab his hand.
Wary of every single movement.

Or was it the distrust Xisuma had against the hub police after how they handled other cases?
…he would ask him when he woke up again. If the avian insisted on asking the authorities for help…

But until then he needed some more professional help.
With a swift movement he pulled out his comm, opening a chat as he started to type.

Xisuma: Hey Doc, I need some help on the new Hermitcraft Server. We got a severely injured intruder

Docm77: Didn’t expect you to beat someone up for breaching your safety protocols lol

Docm77: Okay but honestly, just let them respawn. Should be easier than treating them

Xisuma: It’s a Watcher hostage escapee

Docm77: Oh

Docm77: Give me 10

Now with someone on the way Xisuma went back to positioning some wooden sticks on the wing in front of him, carefully wrapping around some clothes which he summoned with his admin console.

Before he knew it he heard his comm ping again.
He didn't even need to look around before he had a stern looking creeper-goat hybrid staring at him.
Then Doc looked down, taking in the state of the little avian.

“Need a bed, some water and a few clothes. How did he even get here?”

Xisuma sighed as he prepared what Doc had asked for, shrugging slightly. He still had no clue how the intruder had sailed past all security and the whitelist, but he looked clearly miserable. And if he truly escaped from the Watchers then…he must have spent some time in the deep void.

Would a hacker lie this much to corrupt a fresh server?

“Can’t tell, he simply joined the world and died not even fifteen seconds later. Almost scared the void out of me. Couldn't even feel him go past the security, you know?”

“How odd. Now let’s see how we’ll get the bird into the bed…” Doc tilted his head from one side to another, trying to figure out what would be the best way to lift up the boy from the ground without hurting his wings even more.

Two hours later they had built a temporary shack and placed the intruder on a bed. He had already bled through the makeshift bandage from Xisuma, the admin frowning frustrated.

“This might take a while.” Doc sighed before he got to work.

Chapter 3: The Server Meeting

Chapter Text

He was running but it felt like he didn't move from his spot. His legs were heavy, lungs screaming for air. Grian heard their whispers, felt their hidden anger directed at him for running away.

“You were only ever meant to watch!”
The taller of the Watchers hissed at him, claws full of blood. The avian’s blood.

“Come back right this instant!”
The smaller one screeched, following him with a sickening speed. They had always been quite ferocious, loving it to pluck feather for feather from Xelqua’s wings. No, not Xelqua-

“You can’t run forever.”
The deep voice suddenly was so alluring, trying to coax him into giving up.

“We had a deal.”
Firm, angry.

“You will pay for this.”
Poisonous, full of venom. A promise that made the avian shake.

And they reached for him, hands on his shoulders and wrist. Pulling him back into his prison, his personal hell. No no no no no-

Grian startled awake, staring right into the eyes of Xisuma who leaned slightly over him, brows furrowed.
Grian jumped up - at least he tried, failed miserably and stayed seated on the soft floor - as he pressed himself against the wall behind him. He winced at the pain of his wing being pressed against the hard surface, his waist throbbing.

Danger. Not safe.

“...you had a nightmare.” The admin just mumbled calmly while Grian tried to recollect what happened.
He had escaped, waded through the endless deep void and crashed onto this server.
Then he met the voidwalker in front of him and accepted his help.
And currently he was…where?

Grian only allowed himself a few seconds to glance around - seeing wood forming some walls and a roof as well as a bed underneath him - before he focused back on Xisuma. The admin seemed…tired? But less threatening than the first time Grian had laid his eyes upon him.

Xisuma had taken a step back again, swaying a bit on his feet as if unsure on what to do next.
“...I called a friend of mine to help with your wounds. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to involve the hub police so…”

The avian’s heart skipped a beat when the hub police was mentioned, shaking his head quickly.
“No police, please…!”

They would find out, they would lock him up again and he’d be a prisoner once more! He couldn't-

“Figured. Don’t worry, I trust my friend. He’s currently off-world…we’re preparing to move.” He shrugged slightly as he leaned against the wall behind him.

“That’s probably why you thought this place was abandoned. I usually set up new places in advance and test them. We have some…members who like to test the boundaries of reality.”

And Grian watched as the voidwalker laughed at this, imagining the smile he probably had on his lips. His head was spinning and he couldn't sort those thoughts. He had rarely interacted with other hybrids, staying close to his fellow avians and humans in Evo. He only remembered what he had learned during his admin course.

“Voidwalkers usually keep to themself in the deeper parts of the end. It’s rare to see them on other worlds - especially the main hub. They are the only other beings besides the Watchers (and high ranking admins) who are able to manipulate code.
Thus they and the Watchers are not on good terms.
Tensions are high but for the past centuries both sides held back and mainly stuck to themselves.”

But there he stood, casually talking to an intruder on his server. A potential threat - and yet he had helped Grian. Had tended to his wounds, kept to his promise to not touch his code and neither called the authorities.

…was he stupid or just naive?

“...so what do we do now?” the voidwalker asked.

And that question brought him back to the cold and hard reality.

“I…I don’t know.” Grian admitted weakly, slowly forcing his muscles to relax again. To inch away from the wall again, loosen the tension in his wings, stop his feathers from fluffing up.

“I…don’t have a place to return to. They destroyed it. I just- I promise I don’t need much. I just need to recover enough to go back to the deep void, I’ll look for another world I can live in…one that is really abandoned. I just-” Grian fiddled with his hands, unable to explain with words why he wanted to avoid the main hub.

On one side it was his fear of discovery, on the other…something deeper. Something more instinctual.
His avian nature uncomfortable with this much noise, so many people who constantly stumble into his wings, pure overstimulation.

He never liked the main hub.

“...no police…no more tests…and no main hub please…” he mumbled, not daring to look up. Trying to plead his case by making himself seem small and insignificant.
Show the voidwalker he was not dangerous. Just a runaway.

And the voidwalker sighed, shrugging slightly.
“I can ask the others if that’s fine with them but I can’t promise anything. Decisions are made unanimously here. And I can’t yet say I feel fine with it considering you broke through my security. You’re not even whitelisted here…!”

Grian winced, mind scrambling to a response that made sense.
He honestly didn't remember much besides the pain of code being ripped apart.
He bit his lip as he tried to recollect.

“I…I don’t know…? I was…the void tried to claim me…?” He glanced down at his leg, shuddering as he brushed over it absentmindedly.
“I just…pressed against the world? Maybe I…did something subconsciously? I once received some admin training…”

He didn't need to admit that he passed the exam already, especially with him being pretty out of practice. How much has changed over the years? Would the voidwalker feel threatened with another admin on the server?

“Dear void, what have you thrown into my world…” Xisuma mumbled, sighing once more.
“But very well, as long as I know about it I can restrict your admin powers. But your temporary stay will still be put up for a vote tomorrow. I have people to protect, you know?”

Grian closed his eyes, nodding slowly.
That means he’d have at least another day here, another night to rest.

“Now rest, Doc needed to stitch you up. No hasty movements, okay? Difficulty is set to peaceful for now, nothing will disturb you. I need to check up on my people in the meantime.”

“Okay.” The avian said, finally daring to look up and focus on the man in the suit again.
“...and thank you. For…everything. You didn't have to but…I really appreciate it.”

This time Grian could watch the way Xisuma’s eyes moved, his voice changed to show the smile that was hidden by his helmet.
“It’s nothing big. The Watchers are already bad enough, I don’t need to be a monster like them. Neither do I want to.”

And not even five minutes later Grian was alone on the server. Well, presumably.
He had no communicator to check the messages or status. He was all alone with his thoughts in this shack on this endless world.

“I need to check up on my people.”

He didn’t doubt the devotion the voidwalker displayed about his duties. Dear void, Grian had been like this once too!

Painstakingly making sure there were no glitches in the world, confirming all settings were set to cause no harm to his friends and family, creating and guarding a safe place.
Running tests and reassuring that everything went smoothly.

Until They arrived on his server.

One day they all had fun together, playing pranks on each other while building up their bases.
The next they found the oh so cursed symbol of the watchers, followed by their first task.

At first they thought it was funny, some ancient beings sneaking into the server to play some pranks? Count them in! They usually were peaceful and always up for fun! Especially with all the legends and praises some communities sang about them.
(Grian already felt dread from day one, confused on how they entered his world without a spot on the whitelist. Was something true about them being deities?)

They all went along with the puzzles, marching into the portals that lead them to new updates, more content.
(And Grian felt sick. Day by day he lost more control over the server, the whole situation. He had already sent a message to the admin council but was still awaiting a response.)

And then the day arrived when it all came crashing down. His sister wanted to meet a friend outside the server, getting ready to world hop to the hub.
Only to be met with…nothing.
(And Grian only needed 2 minutes to figure out that he had lost all access to the world. They were locked in.)

They had locked up the world, basically put it in some sort of quarantine.
Noone could leave or join the server. Locked up like a bunch of test rats in a cage.
Their comms were hijacked, out-of-server communication not possible.
(That’s why Grian never got a reply from the admin council.)

Grian shook his head, trying to stop the spiral of thoughts as he sat up more comfortably, pulling his right wing to the front as he mindlessly started to brush through the feathers, trying his best to preen them without moving his other wing on instinct.

Many feathers were broken, parts missing and bent. He knew that he wouldn't be able to fly with them in this state, even if they weren’t injured. Too many years of carelessness had gone by, the payment not to indulge in his avian instincts too much.

They hated it, hated the fact that one's hybrid traits were one of the things - the base code - they could not mess around with without unravelling the entire code that made up a player.
And Grian basked in the knowledge that they could not take everything away from him.

He couldn't even remember the last time he had seen his primaries uncut, in their full, precious and glorious form. But at least they finally had their original color back.
He mindlessly flicked aside some dirt, biting his lip.

How did it happen? Had Grian destroyed enough Watcher code to remove the pastel lavender tone from his feathers? Would it return again? Mark him visibly as a Watcher?

He tried to remember what he had seen and felt in his soul when he tried to enter this server, the foreign feeling of something wrong.
The cage of Watcher code surrounding and layering over his base code, masking it without manipulating. The only thing the Watcher's could do on this front.

You could always check your own code~
No! No, Grian was not in the right state of mind to play around with code again. Not when his mind was racing, still trying to understand what just happened.

He had so many questions he didn't dare to ask. Scared of the answer. What if he didn't like the answer? What if the Watchers were right, told him the truth? What if his flock, his siblings…what if Jimmy and Pearl were dead?
Had Grian pushed them towards their demise the second he lost control of his own server? Was he responsible for the death trap that wiped out an entire group of friends?
Of course it was Grian’s fault, he had been the admin. He had the responsibility.

But he was too weak to carry the consequences at the moment.

Xisuma paced through the spawn hut at the old Hermitcraft server, the sun high in the sky. He couldn't sleep very well, thinking about the avian he had left on the new server.
He had spent half of the night checking the logs and security of the new world, scavenging for any change the young admin-apprentice had caused.
Considering they were likely in a panic and therefore should have been quite reckless it still took Xisuma a while to find the point where they entered, to find the now tiny gaping hole in protective code.

He had been confused about it at first - such small damage? Unlikely for a newbie; but soon discovered that while the damage seemed small scale, the code had been pushed and ripped at some places. A violent shift, almost echoing the fear and mindlessness, using any dirty trick one learned during the first admin classes. (Of course during the first class the admin council threw them all under the bus immediately, teaching them some basics about world protection, letting them set up a test world only to bombard it with any virus and bruteforce attack they had. There was always at least one person who came out of this class so scared of the true power an admin needed to wield to protect his people that they quit right on the spot.)

Xisuma spotted the inexperienced cuts, jumbled words and the sheer determination to break through. Comparing the current code with what he had set up before made him realise that the avian had so much luck on his side, noticing the weak link he had left on that exact position. Almost unnoticeable. The admin guessed that he would need to thank the escapee somehow. Void, now Xisuma would spend the rest of the night and morning rechecking the code for any other weakness.
Well, at least it was the avian who entered the server and not one of the Watchers.

The Watchers …
The admin had thought that he closed that chapter after the war ended, after he pulled up walls and walls of code to protect all servers and worlds he owned.
To protect his family on Hermitcraft.

But it came back again and again. As far as the admin council knows only three Watchers were still alive, acting from the shadows.
No one knew if they would try to turn more people to their side, create more of them. A new uprising. A fear stuck in the minds of everyone.
The fear of losing one’s family again. The fear of needing to pick up the fight again against a horde of beings that carried way too much power.

Xisuma leaned his head against the wall, sighing frustrated. It could have all gone well and without a hitch, they could have jumped to the new world already and started on their bases. But nooo. The Watchers had given him other plans once more.

Doc was the first to enter with Ren, throwing just a small glance at their admin. A silent question if today’s meeting was about the intruder.
Xisuma nodded.

One after another the Hermits walked in, chatting idly as they sat down. Mumbo was busy talking to Scar and Iskall, Etho and Bdubs fighting silently over who would get which chair. Keralis sat down on the chair closest to the admin, smiling at him.
Eventually the room had filled.
Most of them likely assumed this was just about their move, some remaining information before world hopping.

…and now Xisuma needed to bring up the cursed monsters again, break the peace that had finally settled on the worlds after the war.
Open back a door for the lingering pain that was left behind.

He felt something graze his legs, looking down to see Jellie. Grateful about the distraction he knelt down, scratching her head softly as he tried to recollect before his big speech.
He could do it. He was the admin, he needed to protect his family.

Eventually Jellie had enough, giving a soft meow as she marched off proudly. Probably to find her owner and take a seat on his lap during their discussion. Xisuma had no excuse left to prolong this anymore, standing up as he straightened his back.

“Dear Hermits!” He called out to get their attention.
“You’re all probably curious as to why I’ve called you here today.”

Eyes turned to him as it got quiet, only a few hushed whispers left here and there.

“It has to do with the world hop, yes. But also with a minor…occurrence on the new server. When I went to check on it yesterday I found an intruder.”

He heard someone gasp, heard hushed “how?”s echoing around.
“A hacker?” Cleo asked into the general confusion.

“Nope. An escapee actually. An avian on the run . Told me he had been taking some admin courses and broke the server barrier by accident while looking for a place to hide.”

“Oh my! And he broke through it just like that?” Mumbo asked worriedly, arms crossed.

Xisuma sighed deeply as he shook his head, giving himself a second to find the right words to explain what happened to the security measures, owning up to the mistake he had made.
He as the admin had the responsibility for his friends and he’d not start lying about something like this now.

“I left a weak link by accident, I probably got careless after so many years of peace…I’m sorry. I should have double checked.
But to calm everyone here, I already did that by now. Even triple checked! No weak links left and the ugly little code jumble our intruder left behind is mend as well.”

He made sure to look every single Hermit into the eyes, trying to convey how bad he felt and that he’d protect them better from now on. A silent promise, a silent confirmation.
His eyes lingered especially with a figure leaning against the wall in the corner of the building, likely not feeling up to sitting at the table with everyone today.

Not able to evade the question any longer he focused back on his brother Xavier, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“The Watchers. Which is why his wounds won’t heal with a respawn. He actually already died once when he broke into the world. Fell to his death.”

“My first idea was to let him stay on the new server and wait here until he is healed up enough. That would also mean we’d delay our departure and stay stuck here for a while longer. Also, I’d need some people to worldhop regularly to help treat him.”

He waited a moment to let that sink in.
“I would like to avoid worldhopping for him now, his wing is broken and he has a nasty wound on his waist. I’m not sure he’d survive another hop so soon…but it wouldn’t stop us from moving on to the next world and just…co-exist with him for now? At least until he is better…?”

Chapter 4: Questions from a Voidwalker

Chapter Text

Grian was dozing, slipping between a state of dream and reality. Rolled together in the bed, one wing wrapped around him as he tried to rest, but every single sound around him made him startle, made him look around nervously, scared.

This false sense of security made him feel sick, his mind racing about a million what-ifs.

Next to the bed he had found a small table with some bread and fruits, carefully placed down in a small basket. He hadn’t touched them yet, only eyeing with suspicion.
With each passing minute he felt the hunger grow stronger, painful pangs that didn’t help with his injury.
He suddenly felt sick seeing the food, closing his eyes.

Don’t think too much.

He turned his back on the basket as he sat up slightly, staring at the bland wooden wall.
Bland and yet so much more colorful than what he had seen the past years.
Nothing but yellow and purple, as well as the deep blackness of the void around him. (Whenever he was let out of his cell.)

…let out of the cell…
They hadn’t locked him in this shack, right?!

Caged. Not enough space. Bad. Bad. Escape-

His breathing hitched as he turned his head towards the door. Why should they? He had no way of escaping from this server, right? Wait, he had crashed on this server anyway! They would rather have him gone, right?
Yes, yes surely. There was no way they had locked him in. No way.

Don’t think too much.

His birdbrain went haywire, triggering his flight response. Wings trying to flutter, sending more pain through his body.
“Oh void! ” He gasped, hands clasping his hair desperately.
“It’s fine, it’s all fine- the door is open…it’s all fine- all fine- all fine-” the avian mumbled, pressing his eyes shut.

Don’t think too much.

His legs were too heavy to stand up to check the door. Because what if he was really locked in? What would he do? How would he get out?
Would the admin come back as promised? Or would he leave the avian stranded here, all alone in this cage shack?

Don’t think too much.

Listen to the birds, Grian! To the wildlife outside! Listen to the breeze of the wind, the pitter-patter of water- listen- just listen .

It helped him calm his breathing again, though his mind was still racing.
His hands reached for his wing, brushing through his feathers again and again. He had already spent hours yesterday preening them, nothing left to clean.
But he could still brush through them, searching for comfort. Pretend all was fine. Pretend he was fine.

Just don’t think too much.

Breathe in, breathe out. Relax. Breath in, breathe out. No one would harm him here. Breath in, brea-

Knock knock

The avian faced the door, frozen in his movement as he didn't dare to answer. Just don’t make a sound.

“Hey little avian, are you awake?” He heard Xisuma’s muffled voice.

It’s just the admin. You already saw him yesterday. He told you he would come back today. All is fine.

“Y…yeah!” He answered shakily, folding his wing back on his back.

“May we enter?”

‘We’? Was there someone else with Xisuma? Who? The person who had helped the admin patch him up? Or someone else?

This time he hesitated, biting his lip as he tried to sit up properly, moving his legs off the bed as he stared at the door.

“...yes, you may.”

And Grian held his breath as the door opened slowly, Xisuma entering the shack. Same suit, same cursed eyes full of kindness.

Two people followed him. First a blonde sheep hybrid, eyes full of curiosity and excitement. They kept their distance, making some place in the doorway for a third person.

And Grian felt dizzy.
They wore the same suit as Xisuma, just in red. Though compared to the admin their eyes were cold and unforgiving as they locked with Grian’s.

“These are Zedaph and Xavier. They are members of Hermitcraft. Xavier has some questions for you, if that’s fine?”

And Grian finally took a breath, eyes wandering to the admin, hands clasped into the blanket underneath him.
If he refused he’d be kicked out. He’d be back in the void, or worse, in the main hub.
All detection systems would start an alarm and he’d be caught, he’d die, they’d lock him up again and kill him.

“S…sure.” He whispered nervously, eyes slowly wandering back to the other voidwalker.
“Uhm…I’ll do…my best to answer…?”

The other examined him from head to toe, eyes lingering on his wings for a second.

“...avian hybrid, hm? Where is the rest of your flock?”

The rest of his flock…
“...dead.” he whispered, lowering his gaze.

All alone. Flock gone. Flock gone , search flock-

“It’s…uhm, They destroyed the server I’m from. It doesn’t exist anymore I uhm…am the only one still alive…”
Cursing everything about appearing brave, Grian pulled his legs back onto the bed to wrap his arms around, holding onto something without his fingers starting to cramp.

“I’d…rather not talk more about it… if that’s fine-” he whispered, not daring to raise his head.

Grian didn't want to talk about Evo, didn't want to relive the days he had spent buried in his admin console over and over again. If they took it as defiance…he’d take any punishment.

He knew he had failed, failed his job as their admin and friend. Their older brother. He didn't protect the server well enough, letting Them in way too easily.
He was too ashamed of his own failure.

“...you don’t need to.” Xisuma said softly, caring .

What was wrong with this voidwalker? Why was he so kind?!

Grian swallowed, nodding slowly as he looked up again, ready for the next question.

“How long did they hold you captive?”

“I…I actually don’t know…? It’s been years for sure but…I stopped counting at some point.” Counting just made him more miserable, showed him how hopeless the situation was with each passing day.

“ Years ?!” Xisuma gasped horrified, stopped by Xavier who raised his hand to shut him up.

“Before or after the war?”

“Before.”

“Then how many Watchers were there afterwards?”

“I- two…?” He asked back unsure.
“There were only two who always interacted with me…I didn't see any other…”
The others stayed silent as they shared a short glance.

“Only two? I see…you never heard about a third one?” The server admin asked curiously.

A third one? Didn't they kill almost all Watcher’s during the war besides two? Who would be the thi-
It was him, wasn’t it? They counted Xelqua?

“I- not…really. Not from my cell at least…” the avian mumbled, staring down on the floor. Appear small and harmless.

Xavier frowned slightly, seemingly uncomfortable with the thought of one Watcher being unaccounted for.
“Were there any other hostages left?”

Grian shook his head slowly.
“I was the last as far as I know. No one else is stuck there…”
The avian wasn’t sure if he would have even considered to escape knowing someone else was still stuck in there. He would have tried to devise a plan that freed them all. (Even if he knew it would have never worked. Getting himself out was already a miracle.)

The voidwalker seemed to relax at the answer, focusing on the broken wing then.

“How did you escape?”

“...played obedient. Lied through my teeth until I managed to slip by.” Grian laughed weakly, pressing a hand on his waist.
“They seemed intrigued by me. Wanted to study me.”
Change him… corrupt him even more.

“I…ran during an outing. They got me. Grabbed me. Held me- they…I just decided to risk it all. One of- one of them held onto my wing…” Grian saw the red suited voidwalker and he didn't. He saw the Watcher in front of him, claws dug into his wing. Crushing and squashing, a wide grin on Their lips.

“Oh, little Xelqua…getting bold? You can’t fly anyway! Wings clipped, too weak to carry you. You’re a disappointment, you know?”
Another claw digging into his waist, the sharp and violent feeling of hands on his code, making his stomach churn.

A threat.

And Xelqua stared back in fear at their superior, lips pressed shut in fear of speaking, screaming, making even the tiniest sound. They’d lock him up again. They’d put him in chains, break his mind piece by piece and nothing would be left of Grian.

But Grian fought. If he’d go down he wouldn’t do so without a fight. Throwing himself forward, hearing an awful crush! as pain exploded in his body.
Black dots danced in front of his vision as he stumbled towards the edge of the island, breathing heavily.

“You can't survive this, Xelqua. You are too weak.” The taller one spoke, glaring at the ex-admin of the Evo server.
“You’ll be ripped apart by the void! Nothing left of you.”

And Grian stared down into the deep darkness, then turning his attention back to the two Watchers close to him.

His body was screaming for release, to pass out from the pain but his brain had another goal to follow.
Escape.

“I’d rather die than spend another second as your prisoner.” Xelqua- no, Grian called out as he put all remaining energy he had into his legs, pushing himself off the ledge.

“...and I jumped into the deep void…” the avian mumbled, blinking to get rid of the images, focusing on his hands, then the basket with the food, the admin, the sheep hybrid and then back to the voidwalker that stood in the door.
He could see the sky behind him, the trees rustling in the wind.

Outside. Fresh air. Going out. Fly! Flying…

He bit his lip, painfully aware of what his little birdbrain wanted, yet unable to attain.

The silence was broken with a loud rumble of his stomach, the avian’s eyes widening embarrassed.
He stifled an awkward laughter, averting his gaze.

“...any…any more questions?”

Instead of talking, the voidwalker finally left his position in the door - ignoring the warning the other exclaimed (“don’t scare him!”) - and grabbed the food basket as he got closer to him, holding it out with an expectant expression.

Grian opened and closed his mouth a few times, body tense once more as he stared at the food.
Painfully aware of his body screaming for it.

Claws holding out food for him, a wicked grin on Their lips. A naive and starved avian ripping it out of Their hands, almost inhaling the stale and dry bread.

Followed by nothing but painful hours rolled together on the cold ground, poison coursing through his veins, making his muscles twitch and contract. Making him regret every decision that brought him into this doomed place. Making him hate himself.

“That’s what you get for your disobedience, little Xelqua. You should listen to us. That would lessen your pain.”

Tampered food whenever he rebelled, poisoned food whenever he failed to reach their expectations. No food at all when he refused to eat, too afraid of more pain.
Trying to figure out a pattern of food that might be safe to eat.

Starving. Pain. Hungry, so hungry…

Had he been obedient enough? Could he eat without worry? Was this a test, a trick? Just like the Watchers had done?

Oh void, he was so hungry-

“Zed, over here.” Xavier waved over the sheep hybrid as he placed the basket down again, grabbing a loaf of bread and ripping off a chunk.

The sheep hybrid followed the request, not hesitating in whatever the other had planned.

“Eat this.”

Zedaph only raised an eyebrow as he started to munch on the chunk of bread without a second thought. Not a single doubt about the food his friend gave him.

Grian furrowed his brows as he watched this random display of actions. What was he doing now? A new way of torture? Making someone else eat in front of the starving refugee? What was he trying to figure out with this?!

Xavier then held out the bread towards Grian once more, his eyes softer now.
“You can eat this. It’s safe. I promise.”

Safe? How would the other know about Grian’s thoughts unless-
Grian’s eyes widened as he blurted out “...they had you too…?”

Both of them stared at each other as the silence grew, a silent conversation of shared experiences with the Watchers, a peace offering with the bread still held in his hands.

And Grian reached out slowly, grabbing the loaf as he ripped out a small chunk this time, taking a small sniff of it. Still soft and fluffy.

There was no way they would tamper with this, right? Would Xavier risk to harm one of his friends just to make Grian feel safe before backstabbing him?
His eyes hushed over to the server admin, deep dark eyes meeting his own.

Warm. Friendly. Trust? Helped treat injury.

Swallowing nervously he then studied the sheep hybrid. A wide smile still on his lips, nodding encouraging.

Well then, here goes nothing!
Closing his eyes he popped the crumb of bread into his mouth, shoulders dropping as he enjoyed the rich flavour of bread. A bit dry from lying around for a few hours, but a million times better than all he had the past years.

“...oh void… ” Grian just whispered after he finished, opening his eyes again as he continued to eat more eagerly now, trying to satisfy his growling stomach.
This meal was safe.

The avian didn't notice the look the three Hermits shared, too focused on the food. The warm feeling. This stupid feeling of comfort! his birdbrain kept screaming.

They let him finish in peace, a small and content smile on his lips as he eyed the rest of the basket for a few seconds.

“Hey, uhm…? Oh void, we never asked for your nam- oh void no I shouldn't have- I’m sorry-'' the admin picked up their conversation again, once again swaying from one leg to the other nervously, eyes wide. He seemed to be doing this a lot…a form of comfort…?
“You don't need to-”

Ah wait, Xisuma had asked him a question!
“Eh uhm…it’s-”

“You are Xelqua. Keep this in mind. If we even hear you utter that old and undignified name once more, we will punish you.”

“...uhm-” Grian clenched his fists tightly, pressing his nails into his palm to ground him.
His feathers puffed up in distress as he tried to force the five letters out, just a simple name.

“...one second- a second please, I-” he begged silently, unable to explain the feeling of dread he felt. The pain. It felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he was stuck in the deep void again.

A fist full of feathers.
A rumbling voice.
“Xelqua!”

“Ah…haha- I don’t know why-” he stared at the admin, panicked, scared.
“I’m sorry I- oh void …”

And the admin moved, hands lifted up again - palms towards Grian - as he got closer slowly.

“Hey, hey…it’s all fine, look at me. We have time. You don’t need to tell if you don’t want to. We won’t force you. Take a deep breath, okay?”

Voice calm. Eyes kind. No threat. Friend. Helped wings

“No- no, I- Xisuma, I want to- I want to tell you, I don’t want Them to take it away from me I-”

Xisuma knelt down in front of him, holding out his hands.
And even if the admin moved slowly, even if he held his hands always where Grian could see them, he still flinched. He still feared a sudden lash out from the other, a sudden punishment for unwanted behaviour.

But the cursed voidwalker just kept his eyes firmly locked on Grian’s, holding still.
“Grab them if you want. Squish them as hard as you can. Can you do this?”

Hands. Grabbing.
Something he could do, something he was able to.
So he tried to open his hands - his palms burning - trying to calm his breath as he reached for the admin’s hands, more confident in his actions this time and squished them, feeling their warmth seep through the gloves.

Warmth. Warmth. Everything about Xisuma felt so much like home and safety that Grian wanted to scream, to ask how the voidwalker had achieved all this. How could he just kneel there, eyes full of concern and kindness. No deceit. And all that despite the helmet that hid away most of this face, only the eyes peeking through the visor.
Eyes, something he had never seen from the Watchers , always hidden behind the cursed masks. What an irony.

How could he offer so much kindness to a stranger? So much patience? Especially after apparently having one of his servermates abducted by the Watchers before?
Did he simply have so much confidence in his admin skills? How deep did this kindness reach? Would he even maybe understand-

“The Watchers are already bad enough, I don’t need to be a monster like them.”

No, no he wouldn't. This was a secret for Grian to take to his grave. He might have destroyed some of the Watcher code corrupting his soul but…he knew he was not skilled enough to remove it all. He was sadly still one of them.

“You’re doing great there, buddy. Just focus on breathing…yes, you’re doing amazing.”

And Grian almost laughed at how ridiculous this situation was.
Here he sat, on a bed in a makeshift shack on a new server, the admin kneeling in front of him with comforting words, and all Grian could think was about how weird all this was!

“I’m- I think I’m better.” He whispered after a few more minutes in silence, nodding slowly.
“I’m sorry about that…I didn't-”

And for the first time the sheep hybrid spoke up, a crooked grin on his lips.
“Ah, tomato tomato! All’s fine, really!”

Grian almost winced at the volume of his voice, but just almost.

His eyes flew over to the other voidwalker. Xavier had moved into a darker corner of the shack, staring down at his comm. But his hands gave it away, tense as they clutched onto the tiny device.
Grian knew that They liked to give their prisoners new names, denying them comfort in their own life.
Sometimes they went around and named a new group of prisoners like fruits, sometimes like animals.
But never a real name.
(Of course this didn't count for Grian, a new Watcher fledgling deserved a ‘dignified’ name.)

And Xavier probably did too. Was that why Xisuma seemed to know how to handle this?

Grian closed his eyes as he nervously tried to get a reading on this world - hopefully without the admin noticing - trying to make sure there really was no sign of the Watchers near. No trace of their cursed magic, their horrifying powers to watch.

If They couldn't see him here…he could…he could finally try to reclaim part of his life they had taken away. A part of himself he had hidden away for way too long.
He moved his lips as he barely even whispered his name, opening his eyes as he waited in tense anticipation.

…

Nothing.

A weak chuckled broke out of him as he squished Xisuma’s hands again, staring at the admin as he softly repeated
“Gr…Grian.”

Once again he turned his head to look around nervously, none of the other three breaking the silence, letting him have this moment.

And realisation hit hard, he had escaped.
He was free, he had made it!
He was no longer their toy, their experiment.
Grian could live again. Grian was-

“...I’m free.” He sobbed out, wincing at his own voice. Wincing at the vulnerability it carried. The tiny bit of hope he had managed to preserve.

Xisuma pulled his attention towards him with a soft squish on his hands, his eyes once again reflecting the smile he carried under the helmet.
“You’re free. And…and Grian…”

The avian held his breath as he heard his name roll off the other’s tongue, bracing to feel pain for a moment before relaxing again, nodding slowly to get the admin to continue.

“As I promised yesterday we put it up for a vote. You may stay here, at least until you’re fully healed. We will move here too. I’ll promise as the admin of this server that no one will be able to harm you here.”

He could stay. He wouldn't be thrown back into the deep void, he’d have a home! Well, temporarily.
The other people though…

“I trust my Hermits with my life. I promise, they are all safe and very kind.” Xisuma promised.

Friend. More friends? New flock?

No new flock, Grian thought. God, he had really been neglecting his avian needs the past years? It would get better…with some company likely. But nothing more than company.

Hug friend. Please. Comfort, warm. Friendly

…well, at least this was an instinct that wasn’t hard to follow.
Despite the firm grip the admin had on his hands, he let go immediately when he felt Grian trying to wriggle free.
And this gesture alone almost made Grian tear up.

Before Xisuma could take a step back the avian had launched forward as he wrapped his arms around the voidwalker, loosely - and if he is honest a tiny bit scared for the reaction - but it felt so right to indulge in his instincts again, happiness flooding his body.
And the comforting warmth of the other, so much better than the cold skin of Them.
He could allow himself to indulge in it for once.

Warm. Friend. Safe.

“Thank you- thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Xisuma, a bit startled, chuckled slightly as he awkwardly tried to return the hug without touching the wings of the avian.

And Grian, even if just for a few moments, felt safe for the first time since the Watchers set foot on Evo.

Chapter 5: The Hermits arrive

Chapter Text

Half an hour later Xisuma had excused himself, letting Grian and the two Hermits know that he will prepare the world hop for the others.

Xavier told his brother where his important items were without lifting his glance from his comm.
Zedaph told him that ‘Impulse or Tango’ would know.

And then it was silent. A bit awkward as well.
Grian was too scared to ask questions, fearing they might bounce back to one he wouldn't be able to - didn’t want to answer.
The avian walked a thin line, needing to plan each step. The moment he was discovered…he didn’t even want to think about what would happen.

Zedaph squirmed around as if he was about to explode (what was going on inside that sheep’s head?) as the voidwalker’s comm pinged once, probably the admin leaving the server.

“...got no communicator?” Zedaph finally asked, eyes sparkling full of childish curiosity.

Grian shook his head, taken aback a bit. He had left his one back in Evo, dropped to the floor during the ender dragon fight, stomped on the moment he realised They would not let him go free again. Destroyed.
And honestly? That was way better than if it had fallen into Their hands. A communicator with admin rights? Handing them connections and information linking right to other admins and the council? Void no!

“Guess Xisuma will need to make you one.” Xavier sighed as he put his device away, focusing back on the avian.
“...have you been outside since you crashed here?”

Outside! Please!

Grian swallowed, trying to silence his instincts.
“I uhm…not really…? I died almost instantly when I…crashed here…” he looked down at his tattered pants and his blood stained shirt. Man, he really did have nothing to him.

“How did you die? Drowned? I mean this tiny island could barely fit all the Hermits…I can see why they moved you to the nearest shore…Or was it a creeper? Skeleton…? Or-” Zedaph truly didn't hesitate with his questions while still managing to get lost in theories afterwards.

“Uh no…I kinda…spawned in the sky? Couldn't really fly since…” Grian pointed to his left wing.
“Yeah…I hit the ground pretty hard. Woke up at spawn though luckily.”

“Hm…well, better than an eternal death loop!”

The thought alone gave Grian goosebumps. No way he would have survived that.

The voidwalker huffed as he walked over to the door, holding it open.

“You’re free to go where you want here. You wanna look around?”
An invitation, an offer.

Yes, please! Out there! Collect, build, live!

The avian held his breath, staring outside to once again catch sight of the blue sky. Oh how much he longed for it, how much his instincts were screaming to run out, open his wings and feel the wind under them. To fly around and feel free again for the first time in years. (He couldn’t. He was still bound to the ground until his wing was healed. Until his primaries had regrown.)

He carefully pushed himself off the bed, placing a hand on the wall to stabilise himself - the world spinning around for a few seconds.

“Oh yeah! How about we grab the food basket, sit down in the grass and eat together?” Zedaph called out, not even waiting as he held it already, marching outside the shack.

“...is…he always like this?” Grian asked the voidwalker who just looked after the sheep, nodding slowly.

“Yeah…but he’s a great friend…helped me a lot.” His eyes softened, looking at Grian.

“...you’re ready?”

“Yes.”

The avian took some careful steps, making sure not to lose his balance.
“...how long are you free already?” Grian wanted to know, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible as he placed his hand on the doorway.

“...roughly one and a half years.”

“I see…I’m happy for you. Really.”

It was quiet for a while, Grian simply staring at the blue sky. Following the clouds with his gaze, taking a deep breath until he felt ready enough to take the last step out.

“...I’m sorry we didn’t confirm that we freed all prisoners…” came the weak response of Xavier.

Grian smiled weakly, simply nodding as he finally left the shack.

There had been nothing to confirm - the two Watchers that held him captive made sure he was in a secluded area - and maybe it was better this way. If they had found him back then…if they had seen him as only Xelqua and not Grian…
He’d probably be disposed of long ago already.

The sun was already past its peak, the rays warming up his entire body.
He could finally enjoy his freedom, not needing to think about running, hiding, falling and almost dying.

“Over here!” Zedaph called out, waving an arm.

And Grian’s growling stomach led him over to the hybrid, soaking up every second he had.
The sheep had flopped over, arms and legs sprawled out as he looked at the clouds.

The two sat down besides him, Grian eyeing the food basket before he slowly reached for some grapes, staring at them before he finally put one in his mouth.
“Oh void…” his eyes widened, the rich and juicy flavour feeling like a dream.

“Pretty nice, hm? You should also try the tomatoes Doc grows! They are amazing!”

“O…oh? Okay” he munched on another grape, hesitantly.

“Doc is also the one who helped patch you up.” Xavier mumbled, reaching for some bread from the basket.

Grian gazed a bit confused at the voidwalker. How would he eat the bread here? Just take off the helmet and-

Well, he sure did!
Grian tried to remember his lessons; were voidwalkers able to breathe in the overworld? Would the other pass out now just for some bread?

Well, while Xavier did scrunch his nose after the first breath he did not fall over dead as Grian had assumed. Until the sheep hybrid next to him started to laugh out loud.
“You should see your face, G!”

The avian raised an eyebrow, a hesitant smirk on his lips while his heart was still beating like crazy.
It’s all fine, Grian. The other would not just do something so reckless here…no way. Deep breath.

“Hah- uhm...G? Already starting with nicknames here?” He tried to calm himself down.

“Sure am! You can call me Zed. And no worries, EvilX won’t die from some overworld air, right?”

EvilX…?
“You sure are creative with your nicknames, Zed.” Grian chuckled as he turned his head towards the voidwalker.

Still breathing. Chucking chunk after chunk of bread in his mouth, glaring slightly at Zedaph.

“Mhpf, won’t die. Just uncomfortable. I don’t think you’d like to live in the deeper parts of the end constantly without overworld air either. It would be fine but…this is more comfortable.”

The more you know!
“...oouh, I see…”

And actually, that kinda made sense. If Grian was able to breathe in the end as an overworld-born then why wouldn’t a voidwalker be able to breathe in the overworld? Silly worries. (But maybe he should have simply focused more during class.)

They continued to eat in peace until Xavier had finished, putting on his helmet again as he sighed satisfied.

“...they will probably join in soon. The other Hermits are kind…but chaotic. You think you can handle it? Or would you rather wait in the hut?” The voidwalker asked.

Oh void, right-
Did he want to hide? Not risk anything?
…he really didn't want to go back into the shack yet though.

“...I think…I think I’ll wait by the shack…outside. I want to give it a try, I want to…I want to enjoy the blue sky for some more.” He answered slowly, thinking about his next words on the way. This sounded like a solid idea, right? He always had the chance to slip back into the shack if it got too much.

“No one will lock you up here. I promise that.” Xavier said, eyes locking with Grian’s. And Grian nodded slowly, smiling weakly. Somehow he felt like he could trust Xavier with this promise.

“Thank you…thank you so much, really…”

Xisuma made sure that everyone had gathered, all important items had been saved and that everyone knew the rules for the new world (and the foreign inhabitant of said one).

“You all remember how it was with Xavier, please be on your best behaviour. Do not swarm him, give him some place to breathe. Best would be if you just take care of your own start for the season.”

“Aye aye, captain!” Someone called out, the others laughing. But despite the casual mood Xisuma could see that the Hermits respected his words.

“Then, all ready! World hop in one minute!” He called out, checking his comm to make sure everything had been set right. That the new world was still safe. That Xavier and Zed were alright.

All would be fine.

The world would remain in peaceful - at least for the first night. It was already quite late and Xisuma didn't want them all to huddle into the already tiny shack that was hastily built for Grian.

Then they jumped, comms pinging in unison as they left and reentered the new world.
Hermits chattering with each other, looking around curiously. Full of motivation and inspiration to build in a new world, huddled onto the tiny island surrounded by water.
It didn’t take long for them to walk through the shallow bits towards the nearest shore - the one with Grian’s hut on it - to have a bit more space to talk and discuss.
(They were all doing their best not to openly stare at the avian. Grian’s not splintered wing lifted slightly in a nervous manner.)

“Jellie, come back!” He heard Scar calling.

The admin looked up just at the right moment to see how the cat hushed past the Hermits, grazing his own legs before she decided to be the first one to welcome the avian who was staring at all the Hermits with wide eyes.

Xisuma watched how Scar followed quickly to catch her (bumping into Mumbo on the way, apologising profoundly before continuing his march).

Glancing over to Xavier who leaned against the shack he decided that he wouldn't need to worry that much about the avian for now. Xavier would stand by his side.

Especially when he felt like he should worry more about Doc and Zed who were already theorising about the first machine they wanted to build. (Which could possibly break the server.)

Xisuma sighed, pulling up the admin console to check if everything was alright after the big hop and to confirm there were no anomalies.

It was loud and chaotic, making his feathers puff out nervously. He was torn between spreading his wings out to appear bigger (the splint stopping him from it) or to tuck them neatly behind his back, making himself as small as possible.
Grian spotted a variety of humans and hybrids chatting around, wading through the water before marching off to collect resources.

So much. So many people. Safe? Danger? Run? Stay?

It was so loud compared to the years he spent with the two Watchers.
Oh void, he should stop thinking about Them. He took a deep breath, trying to focus on straightening the fabric of his shirt. It was neither clean nor mend, but the only thing he owned at the moment. White simple clothes. No personality. (Still stained in his own dried blood.)

“...a lot to take in, hm?” Xavier said, eyes focused on the remaining Hermits as the situation slowly calmed down.

“Mhhm…” Grian hummed, still focused on breathing in and out - calming his racing heart.

He winced at a louder voice, focusing on the direction it was from.
Jellie?

His eyes fell on a cat weaving through the legs of people, rubbing its head against them here and there before it made its way over to Grian.
He held his breath.

The cat - Jellie he assumed - just stared at him for a few seconds before walking over to Xavier, rubbing its little face on the voidwalker’s legs before slowly nearing Grian once again, quickly brushing past his legs as if it was a test.

The avian knelt down slowly, holding out his hand. And little Jellie didn't disappoint, sniffing shortly before rubbing her head to his hand, purring satisfied.
“My…trying to make me drop my guard already, little one?” He whispered, a soft smile on his lips as he started to scratch her head gently.

“Oh shoot! Young lady, I told you not to run off! Don’t scare off our new friend here!”

Grian looked up immediately, feeling as if he was caught doing something illegal. It was not his cat after all, neither had he asked for permission.
“Ah- uhm- sorry, she just came to me I didn't-”

“Oh, no no! It’s all fine, she knows perfectly fine what she did wrong! I can take her away if you want? I really didn't think that she would be the first one here to jump the track…!”

The avian opened and closed his mouth, finally consciously taking in the other. Brown hair in a tiny ponytail (he noticed a brown feather sticking out of it), green eyes full of life, his lips curled into a sheepish grin. Pointy ears and countless scars on his face and arms.

And then his brain caught up with what the other had said - jump the track? - the avian pressing his knuckles on his lips to stifle a laughter. Was that Xisuma’s plan? Send a cat and her owner first to loosen the tension? Whatever it was, it worked.

“No- no it’s all fine, really.” Grian reassured, throwing a hesitant smile at the other as he lowered his hand again, returning to absentmindedly scratching the cat’s head.
“She is adorable…Jellie..if I heard right?”

Meow!

Well, guess he did.

The other beamed at him, nodding excited.
“Yep! She follows me into every world. My precious little baby, yes you are!” he cooed at the cat who just meowed once more, deciding they finally had enough of the avian. With a quick hop she suddenly jumped into the man’s arms, climbing up his shoulders to finally find a resting position.

“Oh- well hello there. Finally coming back after meddling with almost every Hermit here, hm~?”

Kind person. Friend? Befriend!

Grian just let his instincts wash over him as he enjoyed the childlike innocence the person in front of him emitted while talking to his cat. Maybe he wouldn’t mind talking more to the other Hermits…Maybe he-

No. He shouldn’t drop his guard so fast, especially knowing that he couldn’t stay forever. He needed to leave once he was healed up. This was just a temporary solution.

He decided it was time to finally stand up again as he glanced shortly over to Xavier, then back to the man in front of him.

“Anywaaay, my name is Scar! Nice to meetcha! And of course welcome on Hermitcraft here. I’m sure you’ll recover quite well with our help!”

“Mhh- yeah…yeah thank you. I hope I won’t be too much of a bother, I’m grateful I get to stay-”

“Oh no, don’t you go there mister! We all decided unamimo- unanm- we all decided with no vote against that you get to stay. It doesn't bother us, really.”

“I-”

“Nope! You’re welcome here! Let me know if you ever need help with building a proper base, okay?”

“...yeah…Yeah, thank you Scar.”

“Well then, have a great evening! I gotta go build a quick shelter for the first night for little Jellie and me here! It was nice to meet you!”

“Yeah, it was. Uhm bye…?”

And off he was again, one hand raised to pat his cat’s head.
“...and then I’ll try to catch us some fish Jellie-...” the avian could still hear before the other was gone as if he was never here in the first place.

Grian was startled out of his thoughts when Xavier cleared his throat besides him, and he could almost hear the smirk on his lips.
“Survived Scar there, hm?”

“I- I think?” He wasn’t quite sure what to think about this, especially not while trying to ignore the rising calls for “Befriend! Friends!” he had in his mind since meeting Xisuma.

“...he really bulldozes right through one's walls with one conversation, hm? Feeling a bit more relaxed now?”

And Grian couldn't keep it in as he laughed out loud, placing a hand on his throbbing waist as he winced in pain. Though his smile never left his face.

“Are you sure it wasn’t really Jellie who did that though?” He smirked back.

And they both just enjoyed the moment of peace, the clear display in front of them of the here and now, of people talking, interacting and marching off into the wide and unexplored world to begin a new chapter in their lives.
Off to find a new place to call their home.

And Grian wondered silently when he’d get to find a place he could call his home again.

Chapter 6: Patching up the lonely Avian

Chapter Text

The first time someone knocked at the door of the shack Grian startled so much he almost fell out of the bed. His wings tried to spread out to catch his balance only for the left one to be stopped by the splint, a faint throbbing of the sore muscles. Grian’s heart was racing, he didn't expect someone so soon.
He pressed a hand on his chest, staring at the door, hoping for someone to speak.

“Zed and Doc here!” He heard the familiar voice of the sheep hybrid.
“We wanted to check up on your wounds! Doc stitched up your waist back then if you remember!”

Grian did remember someone mentioning this, and he already knew Zed so…this would be fine, right?
“Ah- yeah sure!” He called out, mentally preparing himself for the following encounter.
“You- You may enter!” he followed up, fists balled nervously.

The door opened, the cheerful blonde entering with a wide smile on his lips.
“We bring some more bread and fruits from Xisuma! And some blankets False made, she said you’d love ‘em!”

Grian was almost distracted enough by the sheep hybrid mentioning blankets to forget the other person that followed.
Almost.
When the tall…what was he exactly? Goat? Creeper? Cyborg?
Whatever he was, when he entered Grian felt every single feather puff out, staring at him with wide eyes.
He looked so… intimidating.

Tall, green fur covering his skin, two curled horns on the head. Grian wasn’t sure whether the dark eye’s stare was more intense than the blaring red of the mechanical one.
But every fibre of him screamed that the person in front of him meant danger.

Doc carried an unusual looking chest with him, placing it down next to the bed before taking a step back to eye the avian, giving him some space.

“You’re looking a lot better than the last time. Can we check up on the waist injury?”

His voice was…less intimidating. Rough, but kind. A faint smell of gunpowder and redstone emanated from him. His metallic arm (a prosthetic?) moved smoothly and without a sound as Doc brushed a crease from his white coat. (And once again Grian noticed a brown feather, this time adorning said prosthetic. Were those tokens from the other avian Xisuma mentioned?)

“There is just medical equipment in the shulker, you can check it out if you want.”

“Mhm! And here are the blankets from False! Really soft, made from the fluffiest wool!” Zed hummed as he placed them at the foot of the bed.

So much at once-

He took a shaky breath, telling himself to take it one step after another. Zed was here and he knew that Doc wouldn’t just attack him out of the blue. (Still the little voice in the back of his mind whispered “But what if?”)

First he leaned over to the…shulker? Trying to figure out how to open this foreign chest helped calm his mind, his instincts chirping happily “Puzzle!”

Well, it turned out not to be much of a puzzle, a simple lift and twist until the contents were visible.
But still, fascinating!
But wait-

“Wait- you didn't fill it up after placing…how did the items get in there?”

“What do you mean?” the sheep hybrid asked while the…? While Doc seemed to get the gist immediately.

“It’s a special type of chest, a shulker.” The tall guy knelt down beside the box, putting a hand on it. And suddenly he didn’t look as intimidating anymore as before.
Grian had forgotten his initial fear, looking at him with wide and curious eyes.

“They are crafted with a normal chest and shulker shells. You can get those from the same named mobs in the end.”

“A new mob in the end? Oh…”

“Mh-hm! They are pretty annoying, spit those stupid spiky balls at you that make you float away. Not really funny if you miss the water bucket clutch when falling.” Zed laughed.

The avian nodded slowly, sitting up straight again as he kept staring at the box.

“And they have the ability to contain items even when mined. Pretty convenient to carry around.” Doc continued the lecture, giving a last smack to the shulker before standing up again.

“Oh my god, where was this when I was building this void forsaken long railroad-” the avian groaned before addressing Doc again.
“...thanks for teaching me, I guess I missed a lot of changes.” How much has changed in the dimensions since then?

“No worries. Can we start now or…?”

“Mhh…yeah.” Grian sighed, slowly slipping out of his shirt.
“Just- please try not to touch the wings…” he begged silently.

“No worries, we’re professionals!” Zed smirked as they both got started on unwrapping the bandage, Grian following their every movement with his eyes like a hawk.
Once they were done he glanced down.

Oh void.
Even when sewn up, the wound still displayed the raw violence the Watchers had exerted to prevent him from leaving, the claw marks painting a grotesque pattern in contrast to the pale skin.

After examining, patting a bit of a healing potion on it and rewrapping it again, the two handed him a regeneration potion.
And while it wouldn't heal the damage done to his body it still numbed the pain, letting him breathe a bit easier.

Sighting relieved, the avian pulled up his legs onto the bed to sit criss-cross, smiling exhausted at the two hybrids in front of him.
“Thank you guys.”

“You’re welcome. How does your wing feel? Any problems? The splint should hold it quite well, right?”

Grian pondered, carefully pulling the splinted wing to the front to observe it, trying to feel if anything was amiss in the positioning.
Besides the faint throbbing all seemed okay.

“...I think it should be fine? If…if there is something, I’ll let Xisuma know.” He had let the admin touch his wings once already, if he was in pain he’d…try to do it again. Extend the trust temporarily.

If he wanted to hurt you he could have already done it. Why hesitate?
Grian wrinkled his nose, combing through his hair with one hand.

Doc kept his eyes on him for a few more seconds before nodding satisfied, packing up the shulker again.

…Grian really needed one of those. Or two. How much could fit into one of them? It seemed like a little backpack, right?

“Ah- Xisuma also asked me to hand this to you. He is busy today, but he’ll come by to visit again tomorrow.” The tall one mentioned as he pulled out a communicator from his inventory, holding it out towards the avian.

A comm? He’d even get a comm?
The voidwalker really was crazy.
He carefully grabbed it out of Doc’s hands as he turned the display towards himself, turning the device on.

“...thank you, really…I…” He didn't know what to say anymore, simply nodding slowly.

Grian watched as the colors flashed over the display before a prompt appeared asking for his name.

Zed flopped down on the chair next to the table, munching on one of the grapes from Grian’s fresh food basket.
“He left the name registration to you. Like, if you wanna put a nickname over your username until you feel more comfortable.”

The avian’s hand hesitated as he hovered over the letters, almost typing in Xelqua automatically. But no, he was not there anymore, he was not Xelqua. He had never been. Just simple, plain old Grian.
And he meant what he had said to Xisuma. Grian didn't want the Watchers to have such a claim over him. Give them so much power over his everyday life.

Forcing himself to act without a second thought he quickly typed in ‘Grian’ before confirming, holding in a deep breath as he watched the comm load.

Oh void, what had he done? He couldn't let the Watchers get hold of his comm They would-

And plopp , ping!
The chatrooms appeared.
Feeling a bit overwhelmed he placed it on his pillow, nodding slowly. He’d deal with this later.
They were not here. It was safe to use his name. It was safe to be himself.

“Yeah…yeah, thanks…” He repeated, focusing back on the two Hermits.

Doc just threw an encouraging warm smile at him, nodding.
“Yes. Feel free to write to me if you ever need something…or medical help. I’ll be there.” He said before stretching his arms, turning towards the door.

“See you again for the next checkup in a few days, keep it calm. Don’t wanna rip up the stitches, right?”

“Will do, see you Doc.” Grian smiled at the other, the initial fear already forgotten as he watched him leave.

Well, that left only the sheep hybrid who…just kept munching on the food that was supposed to be for Grian.
He wasn’t sure if it was still a display of ‘this food is safe’ or just a simple disregard of the fact that Grian - for now - was not in a state to scavenge for food himself.

The avian leaned over to quickly snatch a loaf of bread and an apple, sitting back down comfortably to start munching. The bread tasted even better fresh.

Zed smirked, snacking one last grape before he stood up.
It was really just a scheme to get him to eat! How cunning.

“Eat and rest well, okay? The faster you heal the earlier you get to build again!”

Build. Home. Nest.
Grian’s eyes found the blankets the sheep had brought from ‘False’.
“Mhh…” he just hummed. “Will do. Thank you, Zed. Uhm, could you only…could you tell me which user is False? I’d like to thank her too.”

“Oh, sure!” He leaned over, showing the avian his own comm.
“It’s falsesymmetry, right there!”

Grian nodded as he tried to remember - well, shouldn't be too hard unless someone else had a similar name - as he then picked up one of the blankets, eyes widening at how soft it was.

Perfect material! Need more. Build nest. Safe place.

Feeling a bit dazed at the sudden upsurge of his avian instincts he could only mumble another thank you (at least he hoped he did) before he watched the sheep leave, the door closed behind him.
He was alone, no one here to stop him.

Throwing a last glance at the door (his instincts deciding they were satisfied with their solitude for now), he decided to grab all blankets False had provided, rubbing them slowly between his hands.
With a satisfied tweet he stood up, opening up one of the three, no, four blankets as he placed it over his bed, trying to get in a groove.

It has been years since he last built a nest. It felt…almost foreign. It was hard to fully give into the instincts, letting his hybrid nature take over to build a safe space.
No matter how he arranged them it felt wrong.

Was it not enough blankets? Missing pillows?
Was it the space? Was the bed he had been given too small?
Was it the fact that the shack didn't feel like home ?
Was it the smell-

It hit him like a truck as he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the clean and white blankets. No feathers of his siblings (all lost on Evo or taken away by the Watchers ), no clothes he stole from his flock mates, no familiar and comfortable smell.
All bare.
All alone.

“Argh!” he huffed frustrated as he flopped into the bed, trying to roll around to find a comfortable position, sniffling softly.
There were simply days where the loss of his family and flock hit harder, forcing its way back into mind. Moments where they were more present. Moments where he painfully remembered again what he had lost, what was not here anymore.
Burying his head in his pillow he tried to calm his aching heart.

Grian missed his younger siblings, feeling even worse about the fact that he had failed to protect them.

He would never get to watch Jimmy die a silly death again, pouting in his nest over it for the next ten minutes.
He would never get to watch Pearl build something impressive again before proceeding to bug him about his newest chest monster.
He’d never get to preen their wings again, provide comfort or simply hug them .

He was all alone without a flock to ease his pain.

He didn't know when he fell asleep, only waking up to the feeling of dried tears on his cheeks and a comfortable warmth around him.
It might not be his nest , but it was a nest to rest and recover in.

Remembering what he had wanted to do yesterday Grian grabbed the communicator, his communicator, as he opened up False’s contact, hand hovering over the keyboard.
Void, just go for it.

Grian: Hello False, Grian here. Zed brought me the blankets, I wanted to say thank you :)

False didn't respond immediately, probably still asleep. It was quite early in the morning after all. Instead Grian used the time to stare down at his own name, the five simple letters. With each passing second he is telling himself silently that all was fine, that nothing would happen. He would not be punished. He was allowed to be himself. He didn’t need to hide, bottle up anymore. They weren’t here to judge his every behaviour, to punish him for anything that was not Watcher and too much Player. Too much Grian.

But soon enough his comm gave the familiar ping of a message.

falsesymmetry: Hello! No need to thank me, see it as a welcome gift from one avian to another! Hope they are comfy enough

Grian: They are, whatever you did to make them this soft, don’t ever stop

falsesymmetry: Will do, feel free to tell me if you need anything else!

Ah, so False was the other avian. Grian wondered whether her wings were a certain brown color. Brown like the feathers he had seen at least two server members walking around with.

Flock? Make friends? Safety of flock?

No flock, Grian thought sadly. At least not for me. Sighing deeply he hesitated for a few seconds before he typed in another message.

Grian: Would you mind making me a few more blankets?

falsesymmetry: No problem! Will deliver them later!

Grian: Thank you

Satisfied Grian buried his face back into his pillow, lacking the energy to leave the bed. Maybe he’d just wait here for his little delivery, enjoying the comfort of the…of his bed.

Chapter 7: Cozy clothes and a warm meal

Chapter Text

The next time someone visited Grian saw it coming from a mile away. Literally. He had finally managed to leave the bed, daring to leave the shack to watch the waves on the water.
He had been sitting in the grass close to his current shelter, twirling around a dandelion in his hands as he soaked up the sun.

Warm. Comforting. Peaceful.

Grian could see the tiny spawn island from his place as well as tiny bits of purple from a distant mushroom island disappearing into the horizontal line.

He had read over his comm that the enormous mushroom biome close to spawn would be used as a shopping district for the Hermits.

It was also from this direction he saw them coming. Two in a boat, rowing happily across the water with no care in the world, chatting casually.
Once they got close enough Grian saw the pale grey-bluish skin of the person in the front, bright orange hair framing their face, adorned by flowers. A zombie hybrid?

Close behind sat an avian, wings neatly folded at the back, googles placed on top of blonde hair. Xisuma had only spoken of one other avian, so this needed to be False, right?

Said avian waved at him once she spotted Grian sitting in the grass, the boat finally reaching the shore.

“Hey there, Grian!” she called out, and Grian would have winced at hearing his name if it weren’t for False leaving the boat while stretching out her wings.

Oh void, they were beautiful.
Large falcon-like wings in a multitude of brownish-grey colors, clearly cared for.
So the feathers he had seen people carry around were hers.

“Hi there, I’m Cleo!” The other called out, catching his attention as they climbed out of the boat as well. And now that he knew what to focus on he quickly found a feather braided into their hair, marking them as flock.
A big family.

Grian would have bet that everyone had at least one feather from the avian, carrying them around in more or less obvious places.

His hands almost wandered to his own hair, the faint desire to reach for feathers of his own flock. Feathers he didn’t hold anymore. Feathers which were stolen, lost. (Tiny baby feathers he loved to stick in his hair, bigger feathers he hid in his nests. Proof of a family. He was almost jealous of the Hermits.)

“Ah ehm- Hi.” He finally answered, smiling slightly at the two as he stood up, not sure if they wanted something from him or if they were simply passing by.
“I’m- I’m Grian.” he continued slowly, taking his time to prepare for his internal reaction on hearing his name out loud.

“Yeah, the G-man. We got something for you uh- wait lemme search…” Cleo mumbled, starting to rummage through her inventory as False took a step closer, already holding out some white blankets towards the avian.

“As ordered, some more blankets! I also got some pillows ready but I guess it makes more sense to hand them to you when you have a…a bigger base ready?”

The parrot winged avian stared at the blankets, taking a step closer to reach for them slowly, throwing a gauging glance up. Nothing but a smile, hands still holding out the blanket.

He wasn’t sure why he kept looking for signs of malintent, why he kept expecting the worst in every moment and it was frustrating.
The other was just handing him some blankets - blankets which he himself had asked for specifically. Taking a deep breath he reached for the blankets, forcing a small smile at the other avian.

“Thanks a lot, I’ll pay you back…somehow. I promise.”

“Ah, no worries about it G. I got a lot of them flying around my shulkers, you can never have enough nesting materials, right? Just take them, it won’t make a dent in my supplies!”

“Right... Thanks again, False.”

Grian averted his glance as the silence got a bit uncomfortable, Cleo still busy with searching for whatever she was looking for.

“Got it!” The zombie hybrid finally called out after another minute, pulling out a blue colored chest; a shulker? Grian observed it curiously. What did this one carry around?

“Okay, take a look here with me, G. I got some clothes here you can try on. I assume you’d like to finally change out of those tattered and bloody clothes? You wanna have something colorful? A specific cut or fabric type? What’s your favourite color by the way?”

Huh? Clothes? Well, his clothes clearly weren’t a good sight, but even being offered some free clothes? Weren’t those Hermits too selfless? Offering and offering without asking for anything in return? Or were they simply waiting for it? Waiting for a time to ask him for something he wouldn’t be able to provide? Asking for more than he could offer?

“...ehm…I guess? I’m not really picky with clothes as long as they aren’t itchy? And I like the color red.” Red like his wings. Red like the feathers he hasn’t seen in years like this.

“...red…red…hm, lemme see here…” she pulled out a few tops and sweaters as well as a few pants.

“I dunno what would fit you, I can only guess. You can try them out and just give me back what doesn’t fit.”

“Oh- okay.” Grian took the clothes from the zombie, nodding slowly before he hushed into the shack to try the clothes on and deal with his spiralling thoughts.

As the door clicked close behind him he sunk to the ground, back to the door. Grian suddenly felt so stupid and silly. The others here were just trying to be kind and helpful, a normal reaction when finding someone who had been locked up for years. So why were his instincts, thoughts, reactions and body so out of tune?! Fighting against each other in a constant stream of ‘save’, ‘danger’, ‘friend’ and ‘enemy’.

He was so exhausted and tired of it. How did he manage to keep up his fighting spirit with the Watchers only to now shy away at every single gesture? What was he so scared of?
Was he afraid that their kindness would hurt more than Their violence? Was it because he felt like he didn’t deserve their kindness, hiding here knowing he was one of Them as well? Was it because he was punishing himself for failing to save the Evo server? Was he scared that it would just hurt more when he left again? Scared of getting too used to kindness? Oh void, this was getting too dark too quick, his mind too loud.

Grian pressed his hands on his ears, taking a few shaking breaths.
It’s all fine. All fine. He would just heal up here and then leave again. He would just accept their selflessness and then leave again. Maybe he could leave them some diamonds, some resources he gathered as a compensation. Yes, yes that would be perfect!
Nothing more than a transactional relationship.

He opened his eyes, sight falling onto the small pile of fabric in his lap. Right. Check clothes, put blankets aside. The two Hermits were waiting outside and if he took too long they might get suspicious.

Taking a mental note of people he would need to compensate (Xisuma, Xavier, Doc, Zedaph, False and Cleo) he slowly pushed himself up on his legs, walking over to his bed to separate blankets from clothes first.

His hands lingered for a few seconds over the soft feeling of the blankets, his birdbrain chirping in pure bliss about more nesting material.

Yes, it would be nice to place them later. A perfect distraction from his thoughts.

But first, clothes.

Grian lifted up the first pair, sighing before he started to try on all pairs he had been provided with. Most of them needed a belt to stay put, his frame too haggard to keep them up properly. Two of them were at a length where he wouldn’t stumble over them immediately. So he just left one of them on already, not wanting to change back into the white clothes.

Well, one down and one to go! Choosing a top though… that would be harder considering none of them had holes or slits for wings. He decided to try out how they felt on his skin, sorting out anything that felt weird or uncomfortable first. Afterwards he held them in front of his chest, gauging out if they were too small or too big. As good as he could without trying them on. Well, too big would be no problem, right?

Once he had finally found two pieces of clothing he was satisfied with, he held the red sweater and the white dress shirt close. Task done, clothes were chosen. So he’d just need to give back the rejects to Cleo, right? Oh, and maybe ask them to cut some slits into the two tops. Putting the clothes he’d keep in one hand, the rejects into the other he braced himself to leave the shack again.

You can do it, Grian. Nothing to worry about.

Opening the door he assessed the situation first, laying eyes on the two Hermits.

The avian had her wings spread out comfortably, enjoying the soft breeze and the sun as she was back to talking to Cleo. Meanwhile Cleo was just sorting through her shulker, a content smile on their lips.
Both looked up when they heard the door click, smiling at Grian.

“Got something you like?”

“Yep. Got two pants that kinda fit…uh could I have a belt maybe…? And yeah, I really like this shirt and sweater.” He lifted up the arm where he carried those two and Cleo smirked satisfied.

“Gotcha. And yeah, I also have a belt wait- oh, you can hand me the rejects first and then the shirts you wanna keep? I’ll quickly add the slits for your wings if that’s fine?”

“Oh- oh yeah, right.” He handed over the rejects first, watching the zombie put them back into the shulker before pulling out a belt.
Exchanging the belt with the tops Grian wanted to keep she then started to work on adding slits to the back of them.

Grian watched them curiously, skilled hands working quickly on fabric.

“How is your wing?” False asked casually and Grian looked up, sighing frustrated as he fought the urge to spread them out like the avian in front of him.

“I think it’s healing all okay…? It’s not hurting that much since Xisuma put a splint on it. I can’t really properly preen it but…well.” Grian shrugged slightly, trying to make it seem less of a big deal.

“Mhh I see… I hope you’ll be able to fly again soon. That must really suck.”

If Grian had heard this from any other person he would have likely smited them, but False had a genuinely pained expression on her face, probably one of the only ones who could actually understand how he’d feel about this.
An avian bound to the ground, a horrible thought already. Usually whenever someone got hurt and was unable to fly they had their family, their flock around them.
But Grian had none, so he needed to deal with it all alone for years already. Nothing he didn’t already get used to.

“Yeah, it does…but hey, not like I have flown much the past years anyway…! A few weeks or months more won’t change a thing, right?” Grian laughed humorlessly. His wings had been clipped since they got him anyway, so even if they hadn’t broken his limb he would have needed to wait for his next molt.

False just frowned, maybe looking even more horrified at the fact he was unable to fly for so long already.
“...once you’re better we’ll definitely need to take a flight together, okay?”

“Uhm- yeah sure.” He said, a small smile on his lips. That sounded…like a nice suggestion.

Fly with friend!

“And done!” Cleo called out, handing over the clothes back to Grian.

“All ready to wear, G. I can work on some more if you want? Any special wishes?”

“...not really? As long as it’s comfortable…and not itchy on the skin.” He’d already be happy with that much.

“Yeah, gotcha. Okay, then I’ll consider this when working on it! C’mon False, we still have a lot to do!”

“Ah, right! See you, Grian! Get well soon!”

Clutching the fabric in his hands he did his best not to wince at his name, nodding along as he watched those two leave again on their boat.

He took his time to return to the shack, closing the door behind him as he finally slipped out of the old blood stained shirt. The bandage was still clean and white, wrapped carefully around his waist.
He took his time to get into the white dress shirt and the sweater, carefully trying not to squish his wings nor stretch out the new clothes already.

After all was done with that he picked up the blankets False had brought, starting to layer them on the bed with a silent hum.
Maybe he could get used to this.

He shouldn't.

Maybe he could find peace in this world full of oddly friendly people.

He would leave anyway. Why get attached?

Maybe…maybe-

A loud meorw! pulled him out of his thoughts as he heard paws hitting the door, tiny claws scratching over wood.
Huh?

Sneaking over to the door he opened it slowly, surprised about seeing the cat from a few days ago proudly marching into his shack.

“Uhm…hello there Jellie.” He chuckled softly, leaving the door ajar in case she wanted to run away again as soon as she appeared.

Sitting down on the bed he watched as the cat curiously explored the room, climbing up the chairs next to his table.

Grian listened to his inner feelings, his inner birdbrain before he decided that he was totally fine with Jellie being here, maybe even entering his nest. He patted on a place beside him, letting out a soft psps to catch her attention.

“Wanna jump up for some cuddles? Is that why you’re here?”

With another happy meow! she jumped up, rolling together right beside him in his nest.
So adorable.

He slowly moved his hand in front of her nose first, letting her sniff at the back of his hand before he started to scratch her head, watching her eyes shut. With a satisfied purr she allowed Grian to pet her.
He moved slowly, lying down besides the small animal as he snuggled closer, feeling at ease.

He stayed like this for a while, maybe even hours as the sun heated up the room through the crack of the door only for his skin to be cooled down by the soft breeze.
He could just snooze like this…

Well, if it weren’t for the soft knock on the door.
Jellie startled, jumping up as she hushed out of the shack, Grian sitting up slowly.

“Mhh...huh? Yes?” he asked dazed, yawning softly.

“Huh, Jellie…? Uhm Grian? Sorry, did we wake you up?” he heard the muffled voice of one of the voidwalkers. Was it Xisuma…?

“Ah- no, I’m all awake! You can come in!” he replied, rubbing his eyes before shaking his head quickly to shake off the remaining drowsiness.

The green suit of Xisuma appeared as he pushed the door open, a smile on his lips.
Behind him was Xavier, both of them entering the shack.

“We’re here for dinner if you’re interested? We could cook together?”

Grian froze for a second, staring surprised at the two voidwalkers.
Cook together…so a warm meal? That sounded…really nice.

“...yeah…yeah sure. What’s planned?” He asked as he stood up, curiously eying the two Hermits.

“Soup.” Xavier stated dryly, placing down a shulker and a stove.

“Soup?”

“Something light, you’re uhm…still getting used to regular meals again…” Xisuma mumbled softly, pulling out some ingredients he then placed on the table.

Something light, something warm, something comforting.
When’s the last time he had a warm meal? Was it back on Evo, when they all decided to cook and eat together before going for the ender dragon fight? Probably.

His hands were itching from doing nothing the past days, the past years.
“...can I…do you mind if I help too?”
He wanted to help, to do anything. Create, even if it was just something to eat.
Oh, maybe he could look for some clay tomorrow…pottery wasn’t straining so no one would stop him!

Xisuma looked up, eyes scrunching up to indicate a smile on his lips.
“Of course you can help as well! Here, want to cut the carrots?”

Grian took a step away from the bed, stretching his arms before he walked over to the admin, nodding.

Xisuma sat down at the table to cut the ingredients in comfortable silence, Grian taking a seat opposite from him to join in the food preparations. Meanwhile Xavier was working on getting a small fire started in the stove.

It was calm, it was peaceful, it was cosy. Grian actually felt like he could lower his guard around those two, breathe without strain, without fear.

“...this is nice.” He eventually mentioned, focusing on the repeating motion.
Chop. Chop. Chop.

“Right, it’s nice to cook together. If you- if you want we can do this regularly.” Xisuma hummed back, in his own rhythm of chopping down the mushrooms.

Regularly. An invitation to a routine, something casual to repeat and look forward to.
Grian glanced up to the admin in front of him, then the other voidwalker in front of the fire.

Friendly. Company. Please. No more solitude.

This is just transactional, no need to want more.

His instincts won. Void, he just wanted some company. He didn't ask for much with this, right? It could still be only transactional if he helped and provided some ingredients too in the end…right? Yes. Totally.
"Yeah…yeah I’d like that.”

Together they prepared the soup, Grian’s stomach growling once the smell of it spread in the small room. So familiar. So comforting.
A small excited chirp escaped his lips and he quickly pressed a hand on his mouth.

Xisuma chuckled softly, but it didn't make the avian feel bad. It was more…of a warm chuckle, an answer to the joy of his chirp.

“It’s almost done, I promise. You’ll get to have a lot of soups the following weeks.”

“Yeah, run away as long as you can.” Xavier mumbled, a small smirk on his lips.
“Believe me, X almost hunted me down for his ‘light meals’ the first few weeks back home.”

“Hey c’mon, you loved it! You even helped me cook back then!”

“Yeah, to finally stop you from cooking the same soup every single time. You need to understand Grian, I needed to gift him a cooking book to finally stop him from serving the same silly mushroom soup.”

“Yeah but- I mean-” the admin stuttered and Grian couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up, Xavier joining in.

“Yeah yeah, just laugh about me.” The admin huffed playfully, not able to hold back his own laughter.
“How about you set the table instead of making fun of my cooking skills?”

“Aye aye!” Grian just answered, moving to grab the tableware from the shulker box.

And he took his sweet time to help set the table, taking in how normal this simple task was. He had a chance to do so many simply normal things the past days, just…being an active participant in life. In his life.

A bowl here…

Food thrown on the ground with no regards.

A cup there…

One single cracked bottle, carrying a few sips of stale water.

And a spoon…

Trying to clean his hands on his pants before eating, hoping to not get sick again.

…

Grian stared at the table, taking a deep breath before shaking his head. No. Nope. He shouldn't think about it. Not today, nope. No way, it was just time for dinner, no time for dark memories. Nope. Definitely not.

Luckily the others didn't question his behaviour.

“Then let’s sit down, dinner time…!” Xisuma hummed satisfied as he placed the pot of soup on the table.

Grian moved his wings to plop down on the chair, staring at the food with a weird…excitement.
Was it because he was part of the cooking process? Was it because he could be sure that nothing could have been added outside his knowledge? Was it because it was warm…and just…so good smelling…?
…maybe it was because he was able to actively do something with people he felt comfortable with.

Xavier filled all three bowls while Xisuma already slipped out of his helmet.

Despite all the time spent together Grian couldn’t stop his glance at the admin as he took the first sip, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Grian was observing. Come on, he had been here the whole time. He had watched the entire cooking process! Void, he even helped! Why did he still wait for confirmation? Why was he still waiting for the other to try it out first? Trust is good, control is better?

The avian bit back a frustrated sigh, irritated over his own thoughts.

Make sure it’s safe. No more pain. Better be sure.
His instincts whispered, a deeper rooted distrust. He wouldn’t be able to get rid of it that easy, would he?
Work in progress, Grian…work in progress.

Well, Xisuma and Xavier were eating already, so nothing else could stop Grian from taking a careful first sip of the hot soup.

Oh void. This tastes amazing.

It tasted like memories of evenings spent together with his siblings, exciting travels with friends and campfires with a quick meal.
It tasted like home.

“Tasty?” the admin asked and the avian nodded quickly.

“I promise the next meal will be a different soup.” Xavier added, a teasing smirk on his lips.

“...as long as it tastes as good as this one I’m up for anything.” The avian hummed happily, taking a second eager sip of soup.

Together they ate in peace, Grian taking the chance to see both voidwalkers without a helmet to look for a feather from their avian. He found one quickly on Xavier, the tiny baby feather dangling from an earring. For Xisuma it was a bit harder. The admin didn't wear it anywhere in his hair nor as jewellery as far as Grian could see.

He only got lucky by chance, spotting the feather poke out of a shirt pocket when Xisuma slipped out of the suit top while cleaning out the hot soot from the oven.

Satisfied with what he found he helped clean the bowls, carefully putting them back into the shulker before the three of them said their goodbyes, watching the two voidwalkers leave into the early evening.

That night Grian fell asleep with a warm feeling in his stomach that made him feel all safe and cosy.

Chapter 8: Broken code and warm cookies

Chapter Text

Grian had hoped that the next day would be quite as peaceful as the day before. But you can’t always get what you want, right?

Grian had woken up feeling feverish, caught up in one of the blankets. His injury was throbbing and he was begging to just fall asleep again, escape the pain.

He bundled up even more in his nest, only the head sticking out eventually. He tried his best to keep his breath even, to think himself to another place.

Bundled up in his nest on Evo, the soft chirps of his siblings around him. Someone brushed through his hair, a cold and wet towel on his forehead.

He could hear someone hum a soothing melody, the faint smell of soup lingering around.

Warm. Cosy. Family. Flock. Safe.

“Hey, Grian…” a soft whisper, someone poking his side.

He grumbled, turning around to nuzzle back into the comforting warmth away from whoever was bothering him.

“Grian.” Another poke, harder this time.

“...stop that…” he groaned, pulling the blanket over his head, sighing satisfied into the darkness surrounding him.

“Xelqua.” A punch, blinding pain emitting from his injury, and Grian screamed in pain.

He gasped for air, trying to place a hand on his waist, the source of pain. But he couldn't. He couldn't.
He was caught, trapped. Something held his hands, something held-

“It’s the blankets. It’s just blankets.” A lucid part of his brain tried to calm him, but the avian part was panicking.

His wings were caught up, he was in massive pain and he felt like he was dying.
Why did it suddenly hurt so much?

It felt like flaming hands were brushing over his skin, cold hands- claws. Watchers. Pain.

He knew that feeling, the cold grasp on his vulnerable soul. It’s my code. They are at my code again- They are…!

“...no!” He croaked, flailing around to escape, to flee.

Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong.

He hurt, he felt like he was being ripped apart. How did they get here? How did that happen? How did they get him? How, how, HOW?!

Grian looked around frantically, trying to find the source, the cursed Watcher that hurt him so badly-

…there was none. He was alone.

“Wha-” the avian tried to take a deep breath, calm down enough to assess the situation.

Bundled up in a multitude of blankets, nothing else - or more like nobody else holding him down.
He finally freed his hand, ripping away the other restricting bits of fabric.

He was alone.

The pain still pulsated through him, making him sick. Making it hard to breathe, making it hard to move.

It felt like hours went by while he was stuck in bed, unable to calm the pain. Unable to stop the wrong feeling of his soul.

And then it stopped. Just as it had appeared out of nowhere it was…just gone again.

Finally able to properly breathe again the avian pressed a hand on his waist, pain not much worse than the past days. He lifted up his sweater, no blood visible through the bandage.

“...huh…what?”

What had just happened? Why did it feel like something hurt him from inside?
Why?

…

Was it-…did he damage his code afterall? Was it taking revenge now?
With shaking hands he reached for his comm, staring at it for a few seconds before he realised that this was one without admin access. He couldn't check his own code this way. He couldn't confirm. He couldn't-

He didn't want to use his- …Their power.

Void. Void. He hated it, hated everything.

He closed his eyes, placing his shaking hand on his chest. This time he didn't need to touch, only watch. It wouldn't hurt, it wouldn't hurt, it wouldn't hurt.

Grian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to brace himself. Don’t use too much power, don’t give the admin too much of a trace of Watcher power. Calm. Breathe.

Couldn't go wrong, right?

It was raw, it looked painful. Jumbled bits of code surrounding a hole. The place where he had ripped out bits of Watcher code. Something that now looked so empty.

Parts of the cursed galactic letters latching onto his player code, holding strong. Refusing to be removed without removing a part of Grian.

With panic rising in him he checked deeper, trying to get a good look on his base code. Did he-

…He didn't. It still laid there, untouched and safely bundled up.

Grian decided he had seen enough. His code was likely malfunctioning due to the removed code, confused on the missing parts.

Would it jumble up more? Cause him more pain in the future? Render him helpless?

Would it corrupt his base code eventually? Kill him?

…He needed to fix it. But how? How does one fix Watcher related code problems? Would Xisuma know?

Voidwalkers know how to deal with code.

Would he help if Grian asked him?

They also hate the Watchers.

Would he understand?

He hates Them. And Grian was nothing more than an intruder on the admin’s server.

…He needed to fix it alone…if only he knew how to. Memories of old times in a stuffy classroom too vague, not carrying the right information, the needed information.

“Okay, listen up. The next bit is probably the most important part for you all. Open up your books to page 37. Today we’re talking about code.”

The teacher sighed, glancing at their own opened book before he moved towards the blackboard, writing down two big words on opposite sides of it.

Base Code

Player Code

“Today we’re talking about Base Code and Player Code and why it’s so important to never ever touch the base code.” he looked at everyone in the room, keeping a firm glance on their eyes for a moment each.

“The Base Code is what contains all important biological information about you. Age, hair and eye color, race, whether you’re a hybrid or not, what kind of hybrid. You get it, right?”

He wrote it on the blackboard, the chalk scratching over it.

“Base Code is what makes us up, our base, hence the name. It’s self-governing and even the tiniest rupture or edit from the outside can damage it so much that it basically unravels itself.
To put it simply, you cease to exist.”

Grian heard someone gasp, frowning as he wrote down what he just heard.
Note to himself, never ever try to experiment around with code.

“Of course there are ways to obstruct it or…layer other things over it. While your base code determines your hair color, you know that you can dye it. It’s nothing more than a temporary code layer safely layering around one's base code without touching it. But this is also why things like this are strictly regulated by the admin council. Faulty code could latch onto your core and corrupt it. And we can currently count the people who might be able to solve that on two hands.”

“Well then, let’s proceed with Player Code then. It’s the next layer. You could imagine it like…like the Base Code is the foundation and the bare house, while the Player Code is what fills it up, gives it personality and makes it whole. It’s the wallpapers and the furniture, the decoration and the little items and bits that lay around everywhere. But while walls and concrete might last forever if treated right the smallest glitch or carelessness might knock over a picture, might stain a couch or break a plate. We’re not immortal, and we’re definitely not gods. Corrupted Player Code can lead to various illnesses and recurring injuries, even on infinite respawn servers. Luckily some are easier to fix - that’s what you’re here for to learn - but we still find new variations and problems with each day. If you’re ever confused with something you see…consult the admin council. Having someone touch your code can be quite uncomfortable. The moment they display pain though, stop immediately.”

So much to consider and keep in mind…

“Mishandling code can be similar to torture, which leads us to the most important rule, actually no, law. Who can tell me what it is?”

“Noone is allowed to look at someone’s code without permission…?”

“Exactly! Keep it in mind, the first question you ask should always be “May I look at your code?” Nothing less.”

They nodded in unison, the teacher then going off a variety of Player Based corruptions, glitches and illnesses.

“Any more questions?” He asked before ending this lesson, looking into the round of students.

One arm went up, followed by a curious voice.
“We only talked about code malfunction but what if parts of the code just go…missing?”

The teacher blinked, taking a few seconds to take in the question before he picked up again.

“We luckily only have very rare cases of viruses who erase bits of Player Code…in almost all but one case the Player lost everything that made them up. Clean slate, back to the state right after birth. It’s quite a horrible thing for them and their friends and families. The one time the admins did stop it in time, the player was left to relearn everything that we weren’t able to reconstruct.” He sighed.

“One player perma-died. Their code was corrupted so badly it latched onto their base code. There was nothing even the best admin could do to save them.”

He crossed his hands behind his back.
“This is why we do our best to teach and guide you. You will eventually be admins of various servers. You will be responsible for the players in those worlds. Protect them. Act. And ask for help if you ever find something unusual. It could save your lives.”

…Great, he had no idea how to heal Watcher inflicted wounds. To be honest he didn’t even know why they didn’t heal. Was it the fact that they could manipulate code? Would voidwalker inflicted wounds not heal as well? Was it a weird species based virus that caused code deterioration?

Maybe he could ask Xisuma about it. He seemed to know more about this topic afterall, and as long as he didn’t make Grian spill more about his time with Them he’d be fine, right?
He could just mask it as his curiosity as an admin apprentice?
Yes…yes maybe he’d do this.

His eyes fell on his table, the avian heaving himself out of the bed to reach for a bottle of water. Taking a few slow sips he closed his eyes, making sure he felt fully calm before he put down the bottle again, focusing on the mess he made out of the nest.

Letting out an annoyed squawk he started to rearrange the blankets, placing them down carefully to calm the rest of his alerted instincts.

After he was finally fine with it he reached for his comm, deciding to check out what happened around this place the past few days. (He still wasn’t used to having a comm again.)

It was mainly a few death messages and casual talks of Hermits in between.
Bickering between friends, casual callouts for small meetings and shenanigans.

He felt oddly happy reading this (especially considering he was just a guest here) and thus was glad about the distraction of…weird noises he could hear coming closer slowly.

Grian moved towards the door, opening it a crack to glance outside. The woosh-zip got closer, repeating in a semi-regular pattern. But nothing could yet be seen-
The avian looked up, seeing the silhouette of something in the sky getting closer.

What in the void?

Was this False? But why would she make such weird noises? He was quite sure that flying didn't make such noises. Another new type of mob? Was it hostile or-

He didn't get another second to think as the silhouette got close enough to be identified - Scar?! - getting too close to the ground before he crashed with a loud
“Oh wait, no!” right in front of Grian’s shack.

The avian didn't even get a chance to jump back surprised as items spilled around in a big circle while Scar disappeared into a cloud of white smoke, leaving nothing but questions behind. And a pinging comm.

Grian glanced at it.

GoodTimesWithScar fell from a high place.

…made sense. Still didn't explain how he suddenly got up so high to warrant falling to his death. (There were no mountains around here…so really, how?!)

“Uhm…” he hummed confused, leaving the shack to collect the items before they would disappear. He didn’t see the man plop up at spawn so…he likely already had a bed wherever his base was. So…time to wait.

At least it wasn’t raining.

Luckily it didn't take too long for the other to arrive, breathing quickly as he ran the whole way.

“Hah- hey…hey Gri-” he gasped, finally coming to a halt leaning forward, hands on his knees while trying to catch his breath.

“Whew- oh my, that was…a thing…!” He called out eventually, a sheepish smile on his lips.
“Sorry if I startled you…”

Grian took a few seconds to collect his thoughts before he answered, a small smirk on his lips.
“All fine, I am mainly confused on how you managed this. Like, really. Where did you fall down from? Were you bridging over me?” The avian glanced up, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“No, sir! Simply miscalculated while diving down with the elytra. I baked some-” he looked into his inventory, making a double take before he remembered he had just lost all his items. Glancing around, his eyes fell back on the avian.

“Oh uhm- did you pick up my items?”

Grian opened his inventory, ready to hand the other his items again before he stopped for a second, a smirk on his lips as he carefully grabbed the pickaxe of the elf.

“Items? My inventory is all full of my own stuff. Like uh-” he took another glance.
“...some leaves, a door, some treats for Jellie and uhm…hey what do those do-”
With swift fingers he had traded the pickaxe for the white-red striped item, pulling curiously on the string.

With the familiar whoosh-zip from earlier it slipped out of Grian’s hand, zipping off into the sky and out of their eyesight.
“...oh. Interesting…”

Well, he found the source of the noise!
“What are they for?” He wanted to know curiously, looking at the scarred man in front of him who seemed to be temporarily busy with checking if he damaged the feather that was still sticking out of his hair. (Nobody knew why, but avian feathers seemed to be one of the things the respawn system just acknowledged as part of a player, similar to the clothes they wore.)
After coming to a satisfying conclusion he beamed at the other.

“Oh, those are rockets! They are for the elytra- aw man maybe I splattered over there…or there? …where are my ite- oh hey, wait a minute!” Scar focused on the avian in front of him, eyes squinted suspiciously.

“Are you trying to steal my items, G?” He then wanted to know, a knowing smirk on his lips.

“Me? Steal? Aw no, never!” Grian replied quickly, holding back his laughter.
“I’d call it borrowing. Probably. Okay wait, here you go.” Deciding that enough was enough he handed back the items to the elf. Maybe though…

You know what, Grian would keep the door. Simply out of curiosity. Nothing more. Clearly. How long would it take for the other to notice? Would he even notice?

“Ah, there we go! Thank you very much, Sir! Okay where was I- right wait uhm…” Scar stared at the items he still held, seemingly trying to remember why he was actually here.

“You said you baked something?” Grian tried to help and the other immediately perked up again, nodding wildly as he went back to sort his items.

“Right right! I was going around delivering the first free sample of some cookies I baked! Maybe I can convince you to come by my shop in the future! Here you go!”

The elf handed out a small bundle, colorful paper wrappings protecting the delicate cookies.
Oh void, they smell good!

Balancing the bundle in one hand he took one of the baked goods into his other, ready to bite into it before he hesitated.

Swallowing down his suspicions he decided to just take another deep breath, taking in the smell of the cookies.

Come on, it’s nothing more than freshly baked goods. Look at Scar, he looks like a puppy full of excitement. He just wants to do something nice. Surely.

“They…they smell good!” He blurted out, unintentionally trying to delay the fact he still needed to try it.

“Right?! It’s a bit of work but I do tell you, making sure the wheat and cocoa beans grow with love and care makes sure we get the best end results! I’ll promise, by the end of the week the Hermits will run down my shop and they will be the most valuable items on the server, clearly!”

Harmless. Friendly. Kind.

And something in Grian clicked as he decided that, even if tampered, the wide smile on the elven’s lips was worth it trying the cookies.

Taking a small bite he almost immediately closed his eyes, a satisfied groan on his lips.
“ Void! How dare you! How am I going to afford my new obsession now? I don’t have anything to my name here but this shack!” He called out pouting before he bit off another chunk off the cookie, munching happily.

Scar just laughed - such a warm and lovely sound - as he waved his hand in the air.
“Ah, no worries dear customer! I’m sure we will find a solution. And until then, I shall supply you with more samples! Of course only to make sure you shall only buy my cookies from now on!”

Grian simply smirked, finishing the rest of the cookie before he pondered whether he should eat them all in one go or save the rest for later.
…maybe he should save some.

Carefully putting the bundle into his inventory he rubbed his hands together to get rid of the crumbs.

“Consider me hooked, those are like… the best cookies I’ve ever had. Thank you, Scar.”

“Ah, no need to thank me, I love the smile on people’s faces! Nothing beats the bliss of shared pastries!”

The avian nodded, remembering that he still had one question left to be answered.
“Right right, so what’s an elytra? And how do the rockets help?”

“Oh, right! Wait, let me just…” The elf pulled out a weird silvery shimmery item, proudly holding it up.
“It’s what we use to fly! You can find it in the end, pretty annoying to go hunting for if you don’t already have one. With only them you can just glide, we can’t just go ‘flap flap’ with ‘em like you can with your wings! But paired with a rocket we’re able to stay airborne for a while! Maybe not as graceful as you but…you get the gist, right?”

Grian blinked, slowly brushing over the weird leathery-ish wing in front of him.
“...wait- did you just say fly? You can fly with this?!”

So that’s what happened? Scar just fell out of the sky because he…what exactly? Miscalculated? Did he miss a wind current and just crashed down? Could this thing break…?

Fly? Feel the wind again? Up high? Fly, please.

“You sure can! A bit tricky to learn but hey, I managed somehow! Well, if we don’t consider the fact that I may or may not have miscalculated the landing. Or the flying path. Or the durability…” Scar smirked sheepishly.

…maybe I could fly with this too until my wing has healed up again?

Grian kept his eyes on the item, and while thoughts and instincts were pleading for the same thing he knew he should probably wait for the okay of Doc for…such plans.

The avian took a deep breath, finally lowering his hands again as blue eyes met green ones.
“...do you- do you think you could teach me? The elytra?” he asked carefully.

The avian nodded chuckling, already excited.

Fly again! Freedom!

It felt like a dream, what else was out there in the world? How much has changed the past years? It felt like a whole new world called out to Grian, whispering with their promises of adventures and rewards.

“Well then, I hope you’ll enjoy your cookies! I should slowly go back, I’m sure Jellie wants her food soon. It was a blast talking to you, Grian!”

“It was nice seeing you again too, Scar. Thank you again for the cookies, and say hi to Jellie for me! Ah, I hope it’s fine that she was here yesterday? She just scratched at the door so I let her in…?”

“Oh, that’s where she was! Yeah, no worries about this! She loves to roam the world. She’ll usually return in the evening so… as long as she doesn’t get lost.” Scar shrugged.
“Can’t stop queen Jellie from her curious nature!”

“Ah, that’s true. Well then, see you!”

Feeling suddenly giddy he went back inside, sitting down at the edge of his bed.

Forgotten were the plans to look for some clay (Honestly, Grian wasn’t really in the mood for it after what happened in the morning). A new kind of excitement washed over him as he pulled out his comm, hesitating for just a second before he asked Xisuma for a notebook and a pencil when he brought over food the next time.

This place was vast, filled to the brim with so many new things he hasn’t seen yet.
And he couldn’t wait to explore it all.

Chapter 9: Clearance from the Goat

Chapter Text

The next few days continued like this, with Xisuma and-or Xavier coming over to cook and eat together, Scar heading over to hand him a variety of baked goods and False dropping in from time to time just to check on him.

Oh, and Grian filling pages over pages in the notebook Xisuma had provided.
Scribbling down what he had been told about the shulker, elytra and rockets, sketching down ideas on what he could build.
His hands were itching to craft, to build.
His shoulders sore, his birdbrain begging to feel the wind again.

Over the days he saw more and more people zip through the sky, rockets in hand, and he really couldn’t wait to take Scar up on the elytra lessons.

He hummed as he added another line to his current drawing, the mansion he was sketching slowly taking form. What kind of new blocks were out there he could use? What kind of color palettes would he be able to play with?

He had taken a few short walks over the past days, daring to stray further and further from spawn with each trip.
Buildings slowly plopped up left and right, carrying a variety of build styles and materials, leading to more and more sketches in Grian’s notebook.

Though right now he was waiting for a certain creeper-goat hybrid. (He had finally dared to ask during the second checkup, the other just chuckling as he confirmed the avian’s assumptions.)
Doc had said that they’d be finally able to pull out the stitches, allowing Grian to finally get active again. Roam around the world freely.

The avian was impatient, sorting through the few items he owned, all securely stored in a shulker chest. (Xavier had given him that one, dyed in a deep red.) It was not much, mainly some of the blankets he kept rearranging every day, the colorful paper wrappings Scar used everytime he brought him pastries, the door he had borrowed from the elf and a set of spare clothes Cleo had brought over the day before with a promise for more.

His concentration was interrupted by the loud knocking on the door, followed by the now familiar voice of the goat.
“Hey Grian? You there?”

Closing the chest he stretched his arms, responding with a quick
“Yes, come in Doc!”

The man entered and Grian moved to his table, placing the chairs so that he and the other could sit down comfortably.

“You’re doing fine? No complications?” Doc asked as always, placing down his shulker chest full of medical materials.

“Yep, doing all fine! Just took some calm walks, no running as promised. My waist doesn’t hurt much anymore either. Going strong here!” he hummed as a reply, already excited to finally do something again besides looking around.

No more watching.

“Good, that’s great. Then let’s get this going. If we keep this up then your waist will be all healed up again. Which would only leave the broken wing, but that’s nothing time couldn't heal.”

Grian nodded, taking his time to slip out of his pullover and fold it neatly. He really liked that thing, the soft wool laying on his skin, feeling like a gentle and comfortable hug. (At least he imagined it. The only hug he had in years had been the joyful embrace he had given the admin - though the latter wore his suit at that time.)

“Wing is doing fine too, doing my best to keep it stable. Sometimes I move it on instinct…hurts like hell. But the splint is doing its thing.”

“Good good…” the goat mumbled, placing down the potions and other materials he needed to tend to his injury before looking up.
“May I start?”

Grian gave a confirming hum as he raised his arms, letting Doc do his work with unwrapping the bandage.
He slowly got used to the way the Hermits always asked for consent, be it vocally or with reaching out and waiting for him to close the gap. Be it with knocking on his door even if he left it open, always waiting for his permission to enter. It made his heart swell, calmed his mind as he slowly got used to the feeling of having a safe space nobody would intrude on unless they got permission.

They are kind. I like them.

It was such a strong contrast to the past years that made him appreciate the Hermits even more.
Not like he wanted to admit it.

It’s temporary, just a plain transactional relationship.

Rolling up the last bit of the bandage Doc took a first glance at the injury, nodding satisfied.
“Looking good. Then we just gotta remove the stitches. You might feel a slight tugging sensation. It’s not supposed to hurt. Let me know in case it still does, okay?”

The avian nodded, watching as the other started to cut through a string, pulling it out before he repeated the motion with the next one.

Grian held back from letting out a startled squawk, surprised about the odd - almost tickly - feeling on his waist. But it was true, it didn't hurt at all. (And he was relieved about it.)

“You’re doing fine there, I’m almost done…” Doc mumbled concentrated, finishing pulling the last one as he placed it aside satisfied.

“Looking real good! Even if really minimal, it seems like the potions have an effect, I’m glad. I’ll just clean it once more with some healing potion and then we’ll leave it open to heal. If something changes, it starts to hurt like hell or you start to feel bad just message me, okay?” Doc did as he explained, focusing back on Grian eventually.

“Will do, will do. Thanks a lot, really. I…I don’t think I could have done this on my own.”
Grian smiled sheepishly, brushing back a few loose strands of hair out of his face.

“Sooo uhm, when…will I be able to build and fly?”

Doc just chuckled - having been asked this question a bunch of times over the past days already - cleaning up the small mess he had made.
“I’ll give you the permission to build, but maybe wait another week before you try out flying. Especially with Scar teaching you. This might go…bad.”

Grian had seen on his comm how accident prone the elf was, (Honestly, who managed to die multiple times in a row to the same cave within 10 minutes?) and had watched him plummet straight into the ground right in front of him, but…but Scar always had this cheerful and so…adorable puppy-like expression on his face that Grian didn't even think about changing his mind on who should teach him. Besides, he had already been so excited…

…that, and maybe the fact that Scar technically bribed his way into the avian’s heart, always delivering various pastries that made Grian almost consider him a friend.
But just almost.

He ignored the fact that his birdbrain already did, doing the same whenever he saw any of the two voidwalkers. Extending out trust where Grian didn't even believe he had some left.

Nevertheless, having finally a set date was exciting!
One more week. One week in which he could build his starter base. Explore and study the builds of the Hermits. Play around with new features and blocks. Maybe even prank someone? Oh, this was going to be amazing!

“We’ll be careful. I’m keeping an eye on Scar, I won’t let him kill himself by accident, promise!” Grian finally answered, making the other laugh.

“If you manage this without a single respawn of either of you then you’ll truly master a feat nobody else did before!”

“This bad?”

The creeper-goat hybrid simply smirked at him as he picked up his shulker chest.

“Good luck, Grian. You’ll need it!” He just answered ominously, giving him a small wave with his other hand.
“See you.”

“Oh void…ah, see you, Doc!”

And with that Grian started his last preparations for finally leaving the shack behind.
Folding together the remaining blankets from his bed, checking his new shulker chest again (as if he had much to cross-check.) and then took a last look around the room he had spent the past…was ist just one or already two…weeks in?

The avian placed his hand on the wooden wall, brushing slowly over it. Oh, how much he got used to it already, the warm brown color giving him a feeling of safety and warmth.
Maybe he’d use a bunch of wood for his base. Make it cosy and comfortable.

Which now only left him with one last task. Find a place to settle down. Only temporarily, of course. Just until he healed up fully. Until his wing was no longer broken.

Grian closed the door behind him, hearing it click shut. He didn't necessarily feel attached to the shack, though he was definitely grateful for the shelter it gave him. A place to hide and heal his physical wounds.

Finally turning his back he looked into the wide world, listening to the sound of distant cows as he started his journey.

He first came across a desert, the sun shining down mercilessly. Though it was nice to see the familiar yellow of the sand, a cactus growing peacefully here and there.
A huge gigantic desert pyramid-

What the- A huge gigantic desert pyramid?
Was this something the others had built? A base?
He got closer, trying to look for a sign or a door or anything.

The only thing he found was a broken wall. So someone was already here? Maybe a new type of structure? He would need to ask someone…

Taking out his comm he snapped a quick picture, nodding satisfied before he continued on his path. He didn’t really desire to settle down in the desert, too bothered by the blaring sun and the sand that constantly got stuck between his feathers.

It just seemed like this desert didn’t want to end. Grian felt like he started to hallucinate, the sand turning from yellow to orange and darker as he finally stopped his track, turning around to realise that the sand was actually red.

No trick of the eye, no mirage. Grian took a sip from one of his water bottles, closing his eyes before he opened them once more.
Still red.

Quickly he once again pulled out his comm, frantic fingers typing in an excited message.

Grian: There is red sand!

Renthedog: Looks pretty cool, right? Planning to build in a mesa in the future, it even has some nice terracotta

Grian: I’m sure it’ll look amazing, but what is terracotta?

Renthedog: If you’re still close to spawn I assume you’re in the mesa, take a look around. It’s burnt clay blocks, they spawn there naturally in colorful layers

Grian looked up, taking a few more steps closer to the nearest hill. And see that! Layers of a new type of block.

Grian: This is amazing

Grian: You mind if I take some?

Renthedog: Go ahead buddy!

Grian took a few of each color he could find, doing the same with the one or other sand block to have a reference in case he wanted to use it for any of his builds, continuing on his way satisfied.
This trip had already been successful in terms of exploration!

Once grass plopped up here and there he skipped ahead, excited to leave the sand and heat behind him. Until he saw the huge trees, bunch of bushes and vines covering the suddenly humid area.
And everything in him screamed

This! This is the place! Home!

He couldn’t believe that jungles were now part of main servers, no need for special code run over a server. (He remembered flashes of the server he was born on. A modified little place, jungles, vines and ponds. A comfortable climate, houses high in the sky. Big nests full of blankets, pillows and feathers. Days spent with his siblings. Home. Comfort.)

He started to run, excitement bubbling up as he let out a loud chirp as he entered the jungle, fighting every urge to spread his wings.

And promptly something echoed a chirp and tweet in response that left him to stop dead in his tracks, turning around curiously.
Was False around here?
…but False didn't sound like this…?

He heard another soft tweet, guiding his attention towards a tiny color speck of feathers in the bushes.

…Was that a parrot? Since when were there actual parrots on non-modded servers?

Parrot! Friend!

Grian took a step closer, taking a look at the red bird, wings just as colored as his own.

“Hello there…” he mumbled softly, taking another careful step.
“You live here? It’s a nice jungle, right?”

It chirped once more, additional flapping of wings sounding through the jungle as another parrot - this one deep blue - sat down right beside the scarlet macaw.

“Oh, and who are you! Aren’t you both adorable…! Look at your pretty feathers. Wait, look…I look the same!” Grian exclaimed, spreading out his right wing.

The macaw let out another happy tweet as he stretched out its own wings, proudly showing off its plumage.

“My, aren’t you pretty! Wait let me…” Grian looked around the ground, kneeling down to look for some nuts or seeds to feed them.

“Let’s just…ah, there we go!” Cupping some seeds in his hand he stood up again, holding it out carefully towards the parrots.

The scarlet macaw stayed on his branch, just leaning over to quickly grab a few seeds with its beak. The blue fella though hopped over on Grian’s arm, testing out its balance before feeding on the offerings.

The avian held his breath.

Friends. Adorable. Cute.

Yep, he definitely wanted to build in the jungle.
“...any of you got an idea where a nice place might be to live? I’m looking for a home.” Grian hummed.

The blue parrot softly nudged his beak at Grian’s chest before it started to flap its wings, flying off into the dense woods.

“Oh, well then.”

Following the bird he kept his eyes on the surroundings, taking in the new (probably not so new) addition to the normal worlds. So there was red sand, jungles…what else would Grian still find?
Walking out of a bush he stumbled upon a small clearing in front of a hill.

His little blue friend sat on a rock, chirping satisfied.
And oh, Grian totally got the charme of this place. He immediately got a bunch of ideas, scrambling for his notebook as he opened it to an empty page, sitting down on the ground as he started to sketch.

“...this is perfect, yes…thank you!” He called out, focusing fully on his sketch then.

He could use the hill…build into it maybe? Layer it out with some wood…oh yes, a little hobbit hole!

Grian grinned.
“We got a lot to do! Let’s turn this place into our little home.”