Chapter Text
He could see the shadow of the leaves of the tree above him and the clear blue sky.
The rustling of the grass comforted his unstable mind, and the faint giggle of his sibling made him smile. He pretended to be asleep.
“Brother,” they whispered, “Brother, wake up.”
“Wake up.” They continued to giggle as they shook him gently, and their ribbons tickled his face softly.
“Wake up!”
Wake upwake Up
Wakeupwakeupwakeup
ẁ̶̩̗͎̼̠̩̺̤̭̣͍̬̙ả̷͙̙̺͑̈́̿̈́͐́̈̌͜ͅǩ̴͕̦̬̦̻͖̱̯͇̅e̶̳̗̪̐̂̎̌͋̊̃̕͝u̸̢͓̗̞̙̤̟͕̹̎͗̇̈̋́̿̾̇̀͝p̷̠̻͍̯̠͓͈̹̍́ẇ̶̡̯͇͇̞͇͕̎̅͗̐͘à̴̡̞͕̠̯̰̲̺̬̏̂̈́͛̒̀͐̑͐͋͗̉ḵ̸̛͎̺̌̃̃̔̉͂͑̅̅ę̷̧͔̘̮̝̙͎͉̃̈́̑̇̽͌͊͜u̷̳̰̩͇̒̑̈́͂̅͗̈́͑̄̉̕͝͝p̶̧̫̼̥̫͎̄́͆͋̒̓̽̾̆̃͝W̸̬̝̘̻̱̉͝ͅA̵̙̅͋͛̇̂͒̓̓̆̔̎̓̚K̵̙̘͉̤̻̏̑̽̾͛̽̊̃̀̄̑̿̂Ę̸̛̯̠̘̩̱͔͙̮̥̜̰̈́̆̋͌̀̄̏̍̔͛Ŭ̷̼̫̖̔̈͋̎͛͛͜͝͝͝͝P̸̨̡̥̗̩̞͆Ẃ̴̪̞͈̺̻̙̹͍̒͂͗̍̈́̆̔̕ͅA̵͚̠̦̬̣͖̤̋͐̎K̵̦͓͇̔͘Ẽ̴̢̨͈̥͌͆̇̇̚Ù̸̧̯̼͈̮͈̠͖̐P̷̨̢̭̄͒͒̑͆W̶̠̞̯̄́̄̐̊̓̽̅͊̒̅̍̕Ǎ̵̞̊͌̇̌̈́̍̆̄̃͘K̵͔̙͉̱͕̫͖̱͊ͅͅE̸͓̘̬͙̩͈̻͇̙͋́̌̉́͝U̸͍͖̓̂̌P̴̛͔̠̭̦͕͑̑
̶͓̏͗͂͘͝W̷͔̯̿̊̒̎͗̂̈́̆̊͠͠Å̷̱̖̩̮̹̖K̶̢̛͔̪̖̉́̑͘E̶̢̢̲̔̓̀̒̿̓͂̿̍͑̂͊ ̶̨̥̰̟̫̦͚̭͕̟͊̏̀̎̀͌̑͗͗̽͜͝Ü̷̼̪̱͕̯͂̆̊̚̚P̴̡͌̄̍͐W̷̧̻̅͗̌̅͌̓̓̓̆͆̈͝͝Ạ̷͈̑͆̄̑͗̆̎͝Ķ̵̎̑̔̔̽̾͆̆́̋͘̚E̷̡̙̲͙̪̬̤̐͜U̷̙͚̘͓͒͐̏̓͆̀̓͝ͅP̶̛̼̭̮͉͚̰̈́̌̓̈́̋͜ͅͅ
w̴̛̰̬̥͍͖͕͕̺͔͈͈͈͍͉̤̥̬̄̀͊̈́̓̽̀̈̀͌͒͑̓̔͐̚͝á̸̛͕̝͈̫̼̣̠͋̍̀͗͆́̑͋̓̅̈͂͑͂̋̈́̐͝k̸̢̦̪͉̻̫̪̳̙̝͍͇̲͙̦̮̦͚̙̠̯͖̻̝̺̣͈͇̯̗͙͍͚̦͍̦̞͎͖͚̙̟͔͊̆̾͂̍̀̒̎̇͗̑̓̂̆̏è̶̡̧̧̛̜̭̘̮̩̜̪̜̙͎̰̤̘͓̱̳͔͍̭͙͍̮̳͙̗͚̙͓͉̯̺̟͉̮͊̒͂͊̾̎̀̔͒̓̂͌̈́̌̌̽̂̎́̉̾̆͒̈̋̾̌̔̓̆̃̒̑̄͗̍̌̑̾̉͛̕̚͝͝͝ͅự̸̢̨̨̛̤̮͇͙̣̣̗͚̣͕̬̰̹̮̻͍̖͇̝͖̖͙͓̠̻͇̮̹͙̙͒̅̆͑͆͗̈̍́̔̔͂̀͌̃̉͐́̂͆͗̑̿̀͐̍́͗̈̊͆̇̑͘͝͝͝ͅͅp̵̨̧̨̘̜̦͚̪͔̠̩̗̹̩̥͚̳͖͙͓̩̮͙̦͈̠̙̫̯͙̮̮̣̣͖̱̞̎̽̐͐̈́̑̌͐̆̌̔̍̈͒͒͌̿́̈́̉͂͒̇̃̕̚̕͘͜͝w̸̧̡̢̢̡̡̝͈̮̭͔̦̹͎̭͎̳̝̗͔̠̲͔͖͕̻͕̼̭͖̯͕̺͈̲̥̗̘̭͇̋̔̌͋͛̑͘͜ͅͅͅa̵̢̡̛̩͎̻̦̬͍͉̦̤̳̦̝̹͑̓̋͊̀̃͗̈̅̔̔̄̌́̄͆̇̈́̑́̇̂͆̆̓̾̃̽͐͘̚͘͝͝͠͠͝͠ͅk̵̨̧̨̡̳̟͓͉̮̤̰̹̭̠͉̳̝̈́̾̈́͛̍̈͊̑̾̄͊͒͊̅̿͆͂̄͛͑̀̈́̓͗͐͗̿̈̇̏̄̊̾̑̚͜͝ͅę̸̛̛͓̙̦͍͙̬͇̯̣͈̻̩̖̣̤̣̞͖̣̹͙̮͇̩̪̙̽͂́̐́̏́͋̿̓̋́̽̾́̉͂̀̈̾̀̌̏̌͛̌̌̂̾̕͘͘ͅu̸͇̘̻̹̬̥̒͆̄̉̈́̓̇̀̂̿͆͌͊̾͗̀̎̅͑̓̾̋̊̾̐̓̓̐̕̚͠p̵̢̧̧̯̞̳̠̠̟͈̥̥͔̼̝͇̫̯̳̼͒̔̅̽͐̀͒̎̈́̾̉̐̀̀̆̑̊̇̅́̈͌̄̽͂̋̀̃̆̿̈̂̓͗͊̎́͊̔͆̊̕̚̕͜͜͜͜͜͠͝ͅW̶͓͇̠̩͖̘̫͚̮͈̠̝̠̖̑̿̑͊͂̾̈͛͛̀̆̊̎̚͠ͅA̴̛̛͍̖̖̪̙̬͛̈́́͗͛̈́̈́̑̉̅̇̒͗͛̂͒̇̌͂̽͋͊̀̓́̈͆̈́̍͊̐̈́͝͝͠͠͠͠͝͠K̵̨̧̥̰̦͇͈̳͚̮̝͓̬̉̀͗̌̕Ę̷̢̢̧̦͚͇̞͓̥̞͖̩̥̗̣̗͖͚̼̜̘̣̰̜̿́̊Ử̴̛̯͓̬͓̳̗̱̟͐͊͊̎̊̓̾̈́͆̕̕̕Ṕ̶̢̧̲̲̬̪̮̭̳͎͈̻̹͎͈͉̹̼̙̥͖͓̪͍̝̘̜͚̟̱͔̲̣̫͓̐̋̎̊̇̈́̏͐̐̅̾̍̉̈͊̀̽̒̚͘͠͝Ẅ̶̢̨̢̡̨͇̬̺͓͉͕̭̝͈̗̲̥̰̲̘̣̦̥̖͈̟̩́̇̊̃̓̓̃͆̀̃͒̇̐̌̎̂̄̉͘Ạ̸̧̡̧̢̧̼̦̲͚͙̤̩̘̥̞͙͚̰̳̩̱̬͉̼̺̻̬̮̻̫͚̙͍͖̝̜̻͚̗̟̫̺̭̠̾́́ͅĶ̷̨̡̨̢̡̨̧̼̲͎̝̰̩͚̘͈̖͈͖̘͕̟̠͕̝̠̥̺̗̰͔͇̻̞̟̭̪̦̟̥̥̟͔͓͇̂̂̀̉̀̾͌̑̕͠E̴̡̨̧̨̢̡̳̫͚͚̳̼̤͈̥͓͔͕͇̖̥̘͎̝͕̱͓̥̜̠̹͉͈͖̻̫̙͙̻̜̞̪̽̄́͒̉͛̚͘̕Ų̵̨̢̛̫̼͎̺̼̠̮͎̫̜̘̙̀͌͂̏̾̕̕ͅP̷̛̜̹͙̻̻͉̲̮̙̣̮̮̤̹̠̩͙͔̹͉̒͑̍̈́͐͑͒̿͛͛͜͜͝W̷̛̹̤̠̩̯̲̣͈̱̻̳̦̰̯̠͎̅͒̊̽̐͂̍͋͐̔͗̈́̄͛͌̆̇̓̐̋̒̇͊̽͛̎̃͌̃́͘͝͝͝A̴̧͕͇̘͕͙͔̞̗̯̲̺̺̲̲͓̋̌̓͑̑̍̽̿̔̄̆̉̂̏̐̈́̔̂͒͊̀͂̅̃̆̅̀̆̈́̈̔̎̅̋͛̃͐̚̕̚͝͠͝͝͝K̶̢̢̧̛̛͇͇̻̯̺̽͌̑̂̀̈͆͌̓̍̎͌̑͐̿̎͑͋̇͗͘͘͝ͅE̸̢̢̧̫͍̰̖͇̪̬̱̦̭̝̤̲͚̯͎̺̦̘̭̦̗͕͙̥͙͔͋͗̾̑͐̒̿̎̏̍̓̇͌̿̽̏̆̉̊̓͗̈́̀͑͗͛̈́̚͜͜͝͝ͅU̶͖͓͓͖̳̘̟̮̺̻͓̤̮͓͐̓̂͌͗̊̆̒́̇̅̎͛̈̀̽̄̏̈́͌͊͋̉̄̏͗̃̈́͒̈̀̍̍̓̃͛̌͒̏́̾͒͆̄̕͜͝͝P̵̢̗̥̖͈͉̽͝͠
̷̧̧̨̡̬̘̫̤̖͚̠̜̲̙̜͈̯̱̦͔̼̗̦̘͚̻̲̫̯̳͚̥̥̭̬̟̩͉̤͙͉͔̹͙̖̽͜W̴̧̢̧̧̨̝̞̩̞̣̠̬̪̻͎͍̪̣̣͓̝̪͓͙̯̬̱̱̦̱̰͔̭̯͙͕̦͕͙̗̯̻̻͎̖̑̓͐͆̃̍̌̀̇͆̉͑́̍̀͗̀́̽͐͐̔̈̋͘̕͘̚͜͝͝͠ͅA̷̘̞̳̖̮̘̦̼͕̱̦̬̱̯͑͌͛͆͐͗̾̏̄͋̓̀̑̆͒́̍̃̚K̴̡̡̜̜̟͎͓̱̼̹̖͖̥̯͓̰͙̣̜͓̝̼̩̠͈͇͍͔̺͍̳̦̯͍̫͉͉̙̳͖̜͖̘̭̼͉̑̉̀̋́̉̊́̾̚͜ͅͅE̵̛͚̫̭̫̮̖͇͆̾̉̽̂̂̀̊̆́͂̓̈̾̎̂̐̏̾͛̓͗̌̋̄͗͋̔́̇̈́͛̐̈́͐͌̕̚̚͜͠͝͝͝͝ͅ ̸̢̡̨͎̘̖͍̝͎̟̼̳͙̫̩͓̀̉̒̽̈́́͋̋̉̃̀͗͊̌͗͐͒̐͘͘̕̕̕͘͝Ư̵̫̖̙̩͕͚͚̦͖̮̺͔̯̦̮͍̮͍̼͌̇̅̒͒̽̒͛̔̓͆̋̉͛̇̈́̽̈͋͆͒̚̚̕̕͝ͅP̴̢͇̟͇̟̞̖̜͇̥̠̟̫̪̩̿̿̅̑͑̈͋̾̍̏̾̌̓͛͌̿͒̓͒̋͗̈́̏͒̓͒̄̾̓̚̕̕̚W̴̨̤̺͉̬̟͕̖͎̦̙̠̤̮͉̌́̾̏̈́̏͒̑͑̓̀͊̈̈̃̑͋̋̀͊̈̌̍̌̿͗̌̎̚͘̕͜͠͝͠͝͝͝ͅÀ̸̧̢̨̜̤̫̖̣̳̻̮͚̲͚̦̤͉̪̲͜ͅͅK̶̢̢̡̢̛̟͈̰̺͈̳̹̮̹̻̙͓̟̹̭̬͕̲̼̥̠͍̪̫͈̫̮̮̖̬̲̮̱̯͔̫̖̟̦̔͊̉̿̀̊̅͒͐̊̊̂̌̓̈͆̂̊̕̕̕͝͝͠͝ͅͅͅĘ̷̭̣̺̪̮̖̺̹̭̦̩̺̪̠̪̬̮̫͇͓̗̰̺̲͖̠̮̪̬͎͕͇͔̗͕͍̲͇͑͑͌̀̔̌̌̾̋́̓͑̋̄̀́͒́̋͂̏́̏͒̓͐̄̉̑́̆̎̚̕̕̕͝Ư̶̡͈̬̙̠̰̣̳̘̜̱̺͈̮͓̰̹̥̗̩̬̞͔̙̗̝͉̯̹͔̼̱̹͎͒̒͋̈́̇̇̑̈́͊̓̔̿̋̾̔̄͜͜͜͝ͅP̴̨̞͕̗̲͖̲̪͉̤̤͇̗̲̞͎̳̖̒̀͑̅̄̈́̈͗̅̕̕̕̕̚͜
W̶͓͇̠̩͖̘̫͚̮͈̠̝̠̖̑̿̑͊͂̾̈͛͛̀̆̊̎̚͠ͅA̴̛̛͍̖̖̪̙̬͛̈́́͗͛̈́̈́̑̉̅̇̒͗͛̂͒̇̌͂̽͋͊̀̓́̈͆̈́̍͊̐̈́͝͝͠͠͠͠͝͠K̵̨̧̥̰̦͇͈̳͚̮̝͓̬̉̀͗̌̕Ę̷̢̢̧̦͚͇̞͓̥̞͖̩̥̗̣̗͖͚̼̜̘̣̰̜̿́̊Ử̴̛̯͓̬͓̳̗̱̟͐͊͊̎̊̓̾̈́͆̕̕̕Ṕ̶̢̧̲̲̬̪̮̭̳͎͈̻̹͎͈͉̹̼̙̥͖͓̪͍̝̘̜͚̟̱͔̲̣̫͓̐̋̎̊̇̈́̏͐̐̅̾̍̉̈͊̀̽̒̚͘͠͝Ẅ̶̢̨̢̡̨͇̬̺͓͉͕̭̝͈̗̲̥̰̲̘̣̦̥̖͈̟̩́̇̊̃̓̓̃͆̀̃͒̇̐̌̎̂̄̉͘Ạ̸̧̡̧̢̧̼̦̲͚͙̤̩̘̥̞͙͚̰̳̩̱̬͉̼̺̻̬̮̻̫͚̙͍͖̝̜̻͚̗̟̫̺̭̠̾́́ͅĶ̷̨̡̨̢̡̨̧̼̲͎̝̰̩͚̘͈̖͈͖̘͕̟̠͕̝̠̥̺̗̰͔͇̻̞̟̭̪̦̟̥̥̟͔͓͇̂̂̀̉̀̾͌̑̕͠E̴̡̨̧̨̢̡̳̫͚͚̳̼̤͈̥͓͔͕͇̖̥̘͎̝͕̱͓̥̜̠̹͉͈͖̻̫̙͙̻̜̞̪̽̄́͒̉͛̚͘̕Ų̵̨̢̛̫̼͎̺̼̠̮͎̫̜̘̙̀͌͂̏̾̕̕ͅP̷̛̜̹͙̻̻͉̲̮̙̣̮̮̤̹̠̩͙͔̹͉̒͑̍̈́͐͑͒̿͛͛͜͜͝W̷̛̹̤̠̩̯̲̣͈̱̻̳̦̰̯̠͎̅͒̊̽̐͂̍͋͐̔͗̈́̄͛͌̆̇̓̐̋̒̇͊̽͛̎̃͌̃́͘͝͝͝A̴̧͕͇̘͕͙͔̞̗̯̲̺̺̲̲͓̋̌̓͑̑̍̽̿̔̄̆̉̂̏̐̈́̔̂͒͊̀͂̅̃̆̅̀̆̈́̈̔̎̅̋͛̃͐̚̕̚͝͠͝͝͝K̶̢̢̧̛̛͇͇̻̯̺̽͌̑̂̀̈͆͌̓̍̎͌̑͐̿̎͑͋̇͗͘͘͝ͅE̸̢̢̧̫͍̰̖͇̪̬̱̦̭̝̤̲͚̯͎̺̦̘̭̦̗͕͙̥͙͔͋͗̾̑͐̒̿̎̏̍̓̇͌̿̽̏̆̉̊̓͗̈́̀͑͗͛̈́̚͜͜͝͝ͅU̶͖͓͓͖̳̘̟̮̺̻͓̤̮͓͐̓̂͌͗̊̆̒́̇̅̎͛̈̀̽̄̏̈́͌͊͋̉̄̏͗̃̈́͒̈̀̍̍̓̃͛̌͒̏́̾͒͆̄̕͜͝͝P̵̢̗̥̖͈͉̽͝͠
̷̧̧̨̡̬̘̫̤̖͚̠̜̲̙̜͈̯̱̦͔̼̗̦̘͚̻̲̫̯̳͚̥̥̭̬̟̩͉̤͙͉͔̹͙̖̽͜W̴̧̢̧̧̨̝̞̩̞̣̠̬̪̻͎͍̪̣̣͓̝̪͓͙̯̬̱̱̦̱̰͔̭̯͙͕̦͕͙̗̯̻̻͎̖̑̓͐͆̃̍̌̀̇͆̉͑́̍̀͗̀́̽͐͐̔̈̋͘̕͘̚͜͝͝͠ͅA̷̘̞̳̖̮̘̦̼͕̱̦̬̱̯͑͌͛͆͐͗̾̏̄͋̓̀̑̆͒́̍̃̚K̴̡̡̜̜̟͎͓̱̼̹̖͖̥̯͓̰͙̣̜͓̝̼̩̠͈͇͍͔̺͍̳̦̯͍̫͉͉̙̳͖̜͖̘̭̼͉̑̉̀̋́̉̊́̾̚͜ͅͅE̵̛͚̫̭̫̮̖͇͆̾̉̽̂̂̀̊̆́͂̓̈̾̎̂̐̏̾͛̓͗̌̋̄͗͋̔́̇̈́͛̐̈́͐͌̕̚̚͜͠͝͝͝͝ͅ ̸̢̡̨͎̘̖͍̝͎̟̼̳͙̫̩͓̀̉̒̽̈́́͋̋̉̃̀͗͊̌͗͐͒̐͘͘̕̕̕͘͝Ư̵̫̖̙̩͕͚͚̦͖̮̺͔̯̦̮͍̮͍̼͌̇̅̒͒̽̒͛̔̓͆̋̉͛̇̈́̽̈͋͆͒̚̚̕̕͝ͅP̴̢͇̟͇̟̞̖̜͇̥̠̟̫̪̩̿̿̅̑͑̈͋̾̍̏̾̌̓͛͌̿͒̓͒̋͗̈́̏͒̓͒̄̾̓̚̕̕̚W̴̨̤̺͉̬̟͕̖͎̦̙̠̤̮͉̌́̾̏̈́̏͒̑͑̓̀͊̈̈̃̑͋̋̀͊̈̌̍̌̿͗̌̎̚͘̕͜͠͝͠͝͝͝ͅÀ̸̧̢̨̜̤̫̖̣̳̻̮͚̲͚̦̤͉̪̲͜ͅͅK̶̢̢̡̢̛̟͈̰̺͈̳̹̮̹̻̙͓̟̹̭̬͕̲̼̥̠͍̪̫͈̫̮̮̖̬̲̮̱̯͔̫̖̟̦̔͊̉̿̀̊̅͒͐̊̊̂̌̓̈͆̂̊̕̕̕͝͝͠͝ͅͅͅĘ̷̭̣̺̪̮̖̺̹̭̦̩̺̪̠̪̬̮̫͇͓̗̰̺̲͖̠̮̪̬͎͕͇͔̗͕͍̲͇͑͑͌̀̔̌̌̾̋́̓͑̋̄̀́͒́̋͂̏́̏͒̓͐̄̉̑́̆̎̚̕̕̕͝Ư̶̡͈̬̙̠̰̣̳̘̜̱̺͈̮͓̰̹̥̗̩̬̞͔̙̗̝͉̯̹͔̼̱̹͎͒̒͋̈́̇̇̑̈́͊̓̔̿̋̾̔̄͜͜͜͝ͅP̴̨̞͕̗̲͖̲̪͉̤̤͇̗̲̞͎̳̖̒̀͑̅̄̈́̈͗̅̕̕̕̕̚͜
wake up
WAKE UP!
Tommy jolted awake.
Sunlight poured in from the small windows of the cabins, and the portrait of Captain Puffy was still uncovered, shining golden from where gold had been inlaid in it. The lights were gone too, and the place looked as if nothing had happened the night before.
He got up from the bed and instantly tripped face-first onto the floor.
“Fuck, that hurt.” he rises onto his elbows and looks back to see what had tripped him. He saw a leather coat with a hood with fur on the edge, a pair of new boots, and a bag full of provisions.
A beat of silence passes before he gasps in excitement and reaches for the new additions to his travel pack. He changes his boots for the new ones; surprisingly, they fit him perfectly, and his new coat covers him enough that it would not interrupt his trekking. His bag is now filled with dry meat, fruit, and a skin filled with fresh water.
He turns back to the painting, and nothing changes from it like it had before Captain Puffy revealed herself.
And in an uncommon display of gratitude, he bowed lowly with his waist to the painting, “Thank you, My Lady.” He says in a soft voice, and his earring pulses.
When Tommy looks back up, the painting is smiling.
When he exits the cabin, he doesn’t notice the white cloth covering the portrait again and how the cabin vanishes from view.
.
.
.
The beginning of his continued journey was uneventful.
He followed the map dutifully since he was walking through unpathed terrain that was centuries old. So it was expected of him to trip on things as he walked, and after the fifth tree root, he declared them his greatest enemy.
It’s midday when he reaches a small clearing with a gentle stream of water running through it. From the position of the sun, he can guess he has been walking for around 5 hours without stopping, so a small break would do him good.
He rolls the leaf map up and takes out the old one to replace it, along with the water skin. He needs to see which town is the closest to his location so he can resupply and then look for information. From what he could see, he would have to pass through a city to reach the port, which would then take him across a lake towards the outskirts of a town that housed the train station.
“Maybe I should call up Technoblade?” he murmured as he patted his breast pocket. With that thought, he puts his water and map away when suddenly, he hears a snap somewhere in front of him.
Tommy jumps with a yelp and looks up at the sound.
A little girl with glasses and a flowery dress is crouched at the other side of the stream, staring right at him. She giggles at his baffled expression as if she wasn’t the one to scare the living shit out of him.
“Um…” Tommy gulps, and the girl smiles broader, “Hi?”
“You reek of Life, boy.”
Ok, that was out of nowhere. “What do you mean? What are you doing out here?”
The girl only smiles more, her face morphing to accommodate the stretch creepily. His earring began to thrum in warning. The hair at his nape rose in warning; a deep human instinct was telling him to run away from the little girl as fast as he could.
“Why does a mortal boy have the smell of Lord Life?” she asks before she floats near his face, her eyes glitching to a sickly green the longer he looks at her. “Tell me, boy.”
Tommy can only look at her as he drags himself away from the kid. He watches as her features get more and more corroded in green and black ooze dripping from every hole in her face and crackling resonating from her breathing.
“TELL ME!” She roars, and Tommy flees.
The crunching of trees and the heavy stomping coming from behind him is evidence enough the whatever that thing was, is chasing him. He just makes his legs pump faster so he can lose it in the wilderness.
The stamp in his pocket hums before a voice whispers to Tommy, “Throw me.”
At that, Tommy snaps as he runs, “THROW YOU?! My man, I don’t know if you noticed, but I am being chased by a demonic, glitchy baby, and the stamp is the only way I can summon you, big man!”
“Just do it, Tommy!”
“OK!” The boy just takes out the stamp, turns around, and throws it. It explodes in a beam of light, and a hand made out of soil bursts out of the ground to stop a log that was coming straight towards him. The hand crushes the wood before smacking the ground, and another arm rises from the ground near it to pound into the disturbed soil. Both appendages start pushing against the ground, and the chest and the face decorated with the boar mask of The First Emperor are formed.
A heavy glare is directed at the monster that continues to rampage through the forest to get to them. “Stay behind me,” he says to the boy before clapping both hands together and smacking the ground with the right one. When he removes it, a smaller version of the god made out of stone bursts out, holding a ceremonial spear made from diamond and a net made of woven gold. They are dressed in the traditional robes of the people of the Nether, and a great crown with horns and feathers protects his eyes and forehead. The copy straightens its back and lunges towards the monster. “Go, Tommy,” says the bigger personification of the God of Life without turning back to look at the mortal boy, “I’ll keep it busy so you can get somewhere safe.”
Tommy just nods and runs the opposite way of the battle.
.
.
.
.
.
It is almost an hour of running on pure adrenaline when his body decides to be a bitch and get rid of it.
The consequence is that he collapses, but thankfully, he does so into a pile of leaves.
“Fuck mate, why is this happening to me?” he mutters as he stumbles out of the pile, patting himself to get rid of the dirt and plants that covered him. When he got to his coin bag, he noticed it had gotten lighter. In a rush, he unlatches it from his belt checks inside, and sees fewer coins than before, and a hole at the bottom, “Fuck me.”
To increase Tommy’s misery, another coin fell through the hole and bounced against the floor and into a mess of protruding roots of a nearby tree.
Roots are his archnemeses.
“What am I gonna do now?” he whispered as a hand covered the origin of his plight.
“Bueno, I hope that you will pick me up.”
“Who the fuck said that!” His earring was sending pulses, and he wasn't having any feeling of being watched, so he could guess it was another god. “You dropped me under this root, kid; you shouldn’t be so irresponsible with your money!” answered the voice again.
“Wait…” Tommy was processing what they meant by ‘dropping them under the roots.’
“Wait for it…” repeated the voice.
When did he drop someone?
“Is it that difficult to comprehend? You’ve met Life in a stone statue and The Traveler in a painting, and you don’t get what I am?”
Wait a second, what I am?
“You’re the coin!”
“Al fin se iluminó su inteligencia. Yes, I’m the coin! Get me out of here!” screams the god in the coin. Tommy rushes to try and get the coin out of the mess of roots, sticking his hand into a hole to pat the ground. He felt around for a bit, his tongue sticking out in concentration, until he felt the familiar form of a coin against his fingers. “Aha! Found you!”
“Finally!” answered the god. He cleaned the coin’s surface a little before looking at it. It looked normal; the value was still engraved on it, and the bust of the god of commerce looked intact. “Um-” said the blond hesitantly, “Hello?”
The visage of the god just turned to him with an annoyed expression, “Is that your first reaction to coming face first with a god?”
“I’ve met other gods.”
“Of course you have,” grumbles the coin. “I expected it since you are carrying Life and The Captain’s blessings on you.”
“Do you all know each other or something?”
“Kid, we are all gods. If I didn’t know Technoblade, who is essentially my boss, I would be a piss poor choice of a god.”
“Fair enough.”
An awkward silence falls in the clearing as the conversation ends. The god in the coin looks at Tommy’s face, and Tommy looks back at it, blinking in absolute confusion on what to do next. The god blinks back at him, “You do know which god I am, right?”
“I assume you are the god of commerce.”
“Thank justice he still has brain cells.”
“Hey, that’s rude.”
“Well, as you know,” said the god, “I am the god of commerce, wealth, and trading, but you may call me Quackity!”
“PFFT QUA-”
“ANYWAY!” interrupted Quackity before Tommy could even laugh properly, “I can see you are in a bit of trouble, money-wise speaking.” The mortal boy just sighed, glancing at his coin bag, and emptied it into his hand.
Only 10 coins were left in it. “Yeah, you need some help.”
You think? thought Tommy with an annoyed expression. Quackity laughed and snapped with a funny expression, “Tell you what,” said the god as it began to get back into the original pose of the portrait carved into the coin, “you go ahead and fix that bag, and I’ll make sure that it never runs out of money as long as it is on your hands.”
Tommy hummed and nodded as he juggled to get the remaining coins into one of his pant pockets. “Great! Good luck, Tommy!”
“Wait—and you’re already gone,” grumbled the boy as he watched the coin return to normal. All of his coins will stay in his pocket until he can figure out a way to mend the bag. He took out his map and tried to figure out where he was exactly so he could continue to the Port.
And happily, the map showed him he had one lucky ass since he was a two-day distance walk from a small town called La Favela.