Chapter Text
He fell to his knees with a dull thud, the pain of his knees hitting the stone stairs something his mind couldn’t even think to handle.
He was at her temple, again.
It was a thing that is practiced, a thing that felt too ancient for it to be a thing he began just this year.
He looked up at his statue of her. You did this to me. He prayed—no. He thought to her.
You made me this.
The words sounded too vile in his head when the only thing he could feel was guilt. His hand subconsciously moved over his heart where a thick, ragged scar was still healing after all of these years.
What kind of idiot would agree to godhood without thronging it through? Dying without being submerged in water? She was practically begging to die.
But here he was. Still praying at her temple, telling his people her stories, like she didn't ignore him as soon as she came back. It’s his own fault that she ignored him. After what he did. She needed space. She left him alone at his shores when the oceans dried.
It’s not her fault the oceans dried, but he can’t even think of the thing truly at fault without wanting to hurl.
After all of it, he still did what he always will, he crawled back to her altar to pray.
Pray? He wasn't praying! She left him! Some part of him would always think. She died after she said she was immortal. She left him to sit in an empty mesa in his empty kingdom and encased by his dead castle.
He was left alone, everyone else got their ending, something almost poetic, something that had effort behind it. But when he looked for an end beyond a year of work destroyed, when he looked for the last line to his own poem, he was given glares, mistrust, and a trip back to the beginning of the cycle.
She should have expected this! She knew he was pathetic as much as he did, she knew he had nothing and took anyway! She’s had his heart for years and she died!
Did she really expect him to take it back after so long?
He leaned forward, letting his forehead scrape against the sanded down stone at the statue's feet, arms wrapped around his stomach in a pathetic attempt at hugging himself.
Burning tears dripped from his eyes, down the bridge of his nose and gathered on the hard stone.
He can't do what the Mezalean king had done, it only got him glares and teary screams. The Mezalean king was dead, even if he still wore them man’s scars.
I'm sorry. You know I am. Please say you know I am. I didn't tell you before. I'm sorry. I just can't do it without you. Isn't that sad? Aren't I weak? Aren't I pathetic? Why did you say yes when I proposed? You knew I was weak. You know I'm pathetic. You used to laugh when I asked you. Did you think I was joking when I told you I wasn't enough for you?
I know you saw through the act.
A salty ocean breeze brushed his face, he gasped in the air like he hadn't taken a breath since she left. He jolted upwards, a puppet pulled by its strings to look around to her.
But the garden was still empty. The statue was still clay. He was still alone.
"I know you're here," He said to the open air, thick with salt, "watching me." His eyes flicked around the lush garden like she would just appear at his words. "I know you can hear my prayers, I know you know my thoughts." The words he spoke were memorized, ingrained by his own will.
No words answered, but a small ocean breeze brushed at the tears on his wet face. It felt like an insult, it felt like a reassurance.
He chuckled. "I'm sorry I did that. Died like I did. I know you hated me for it."
Does she still hate him for it? Was she only here out of pity?
The breeze grew sharp and cold, small pieces of sand and cobble from his path flung upwards to his face, not daring to hurt beyond a slight sting. He rubbed at his tear filled eyes. "Yeah, I know. I can't just go around killing myself because I miss you.” They’ve had this conversation before. He was speaking words he had engraved into his bones with nothing but him thinking it over and over.
“But what was I supposed to do? Everyone else left too." The air thickened and slowed, the smell of salt was inescapable, burning his nose, but it's not like he would ever want it to stop.
"I'm sorry I didn't talk about it when we saw each other again. I didn't know what to say so I just. Pretended it didn't happen" I thought that was what you wanted. You said you wanted space.
There was a presence next to him now, if he closed his eyes he could pretend it was more than just her godly spirit forced to hear his prayers.
Pretend that she was there, holding him.
It felt nice. It felt lonely. He never wanted to leave. He couldn't stand being here.
He distantly heard the telltale sound of rockets and the whirring of air catching in an elytras wings.
The moment is over. He needs to go.
"I love you." He whispered. The air tightened around him, the smell of ocean salt a comfort, the closest thing her spirit could get to a hug.
He smiled, a wet, sad thing.
The sound of two people talking in the distance jolted him from his peaceful sadness, voices carrying down the mountain. Echoing from his city that mirrored his old kingdom in the worst ways; achingly cold in the midday heat, empty even when there were people nearby, hollow when the gardens and buildings were full.
He got up slowly, taking an agonizing step outside of her temple, out of her reach.
The salt was gone, the air was thin again, he folded his arms behind his back. His hand fidgeted with his wedding ring as he walked up the hill to see who it was.
He heard them before he saw them, Pearl and Impulse by the sound of it.
He finally made it up the long staircase and swung around one of the building corners, Impulse met his eyes, several note blocks and bags of redstone in hand.
Pearl was still talking, something about making it real annoying for him.
"Maybe you should wait until you know I'm out of my base to prank me Pearl." He said, a wide grin plastered on his face as she jumped at his voice.
If he had been listening closer for a response to his prayers, he would have only made out four words from the rushing ocean wind.
I love you too.