Chapter Text
There’s no water in the End.
It perhaps makes sense that this is what Lizzie’s mind would latch onto, as she tumbles from the sea of static that envelopes the frigid realm. She is a creature of the ocean. Before a warrior, before an adventurer, a wanderer, a Queen… she is a creature of the water.
The End is a barren, empty void. Even the air, as it whistles past her ears and tangles her hair, is thin. It’s never agreed with her, and she’s only visited the dimension a handful of times because of the untethered and empty feeling it leaves her with.
This visit is worse than most, but that has nothing to do with the aching vacant void and everything to do with the angry blur of black and purple above her and the rapidly approaching pale yellow stone beneath her.
She hasn’t feared the sky in a very long time, certain of her wings like she is certain of her gills. It’s odd, to have them fail her like this– punctured so easily by a single claw.
“Lizzie!” Jimmy cries above her, and she can vaguely make out a greenish blur that might be him as she tumbles and flaps and futilely attempts to slow her descent.
The ground hurts as much as she imagined it would.
She groans and rolls onto her stomach, before digging her fingers into the porous endstone and begins to carefully lever herself away from its unwelcome surface. She keeps her eyes down, mindful of the shuffle of movement and static-filled chirp of an enderman nearby. Her side throbs and her wing burns.
There’s a faint thump, and then another as Jimmy’s knees land beside her. His slime-like green wings are still spread from his landing as he reaches out to help her sit up.
“Are you ok?!” he steadies her with one hand and starts rapidly evaluating her injuries with the other.
Lizzie scoffs and knocks his seeking hand aside, “I’m fine, Jimmy. Just bruised– you prodding at me isn’t going to help.”
“Your wing–” Jimmy starts, leaning to the side to get a glimpse of it.
“Needs a little patch until it can heal,” she cuts him off, “That’s all, fishbrain. Have you got any slime?”
He jolts and rapidly starts digging through his satchel, even as a roar from the Dragon above them shakes the ground beneath them. A moment later, he’s shoving a sticky handful at her with a bright grin, “Here you go! Perfect for emergency patch–” his grin fades as his eyes slide to something behind her. A beat later, he stands abruptly, expression hard, and strides past her.
Lizzie, hands full of goopy slime, turns to see what drew his attention– almost forgetting the endermen before her gaze drifts past one’s legs and she hastily jerks it to Jimmy’s back. When she sees what he’s storming towards, her heart nearly stops.
There, landing on the edge of the island with his ominous red and black dragon wings spread, is fWhip.
“Hey!” Jimmy shouts furiously, still advancing, “What are you doing here?!”
“Jimmy!” fWhip calls back, wings dropping and empty hands raising, “Jimmy, I’m sorry!”
Gem lands beside her brother, eyes wide and hands tight on an oddly unfinished looking magic staff, with Pearl a radiant golden shadow behind her. A moment later, they’re joined by the tiny form of the gnome Shrub and the towering elf Scott… and Katherine. The two-faced, indecisive, untrustworthy little–
“You’re sorry?” Jimmy cries, incredulous, “Are you kidding me?”
Lizzie scrambles to her feet, fury rushing hotly through her veins, and moves to join him. As she walks, she wrestles her injured wing into reach and aggressively smears the slime over the injured section. It throbs and burns in protest of the rough handling, but she’s too furious to care.
“Katherine?!” she nearly screeches, “What are you doing here!?”
Katherine’s eyes go wide and she lifts her hands in surrender, her fragile wings fluttering anxiously behind her, “I’m here to help!”
Lizzie almost strides past Jimmy, teeth bared, but he catches her elbow at the last moment. “Oh, so now you want to help,” her voice drips with condescension and disbelief.
The Guardian’s face twitches, clearly hurt, and the little gnome at her side puffs up with indignation. Before anyone can say anything else, however, the Dragon roars, shaking the island, and toxic purple fog descends from above.
Someone yelps and the group scatters, the frenzy of movement accompanied by the horrible grating screech of nearby endermen. Jimmy uses his grip on Lizzie’s arm to yank her back with him, and the two of them stumble around a pillar. She presses her back against the cool obsidian, taking weight off her suddenly aching leg, and peers around it.
The Dragon is currently chasing a cackling Sausage through the sky, and she catches a glimpse of Joel’s shining enchanted armor as he swoops around a pillar. On the ground, Lizzie spots Scott crouched beside a pillar across the way, his stony face turned upwards, jaw clenched and eyes hard. There’s a flash of Shrub’s red and white mushroom cap as she leans around the pillar at his side. The endermen are everywhere– half wandering, seeming unbothered by the chaotic fight in the sky, while the other half have their eyes fixed upwards as well, drifting from side to side under the dragon as they scream their fury to the purple-grey sky.
“Stick to the plan!” Pearl cries from somewhere out of sight, “Split up and cover ground! fWhip and Gem can handle Jimmy and Lizzie.”
There’s an immediate chorus of acknowledgement. Lizzie catches sight of Shrub dashing off across the island and Scott taking to the sky with his snow white wings, both of them tightly clutching something that glows.
Jimmy, meanwhile, lets out a furious noise, pushing away from his spot at Lizzie’s side and striding into the open, drawing his sword as he walks, “Oh, you’re going to take care of us, are you? Well, we’re not going to make it easy for you!”
“No, it’s not like that!” Gem’s voice precedes her from behind the next pillar over. She’s still tightly clutching her staff– which is definitely different than Lizzie remembers, thicker and covered in bark. As Lizzie moves to stand at Jimmy’s side, she notes that Gem’s braid is frayed and her eyes are lined with deep circles.
“Isn’t it? I’m having a hard time imagining something friendly here, Gem,” Jimmy hisses, and there’s definitely hurt there. Lizzie feels herself bristle even more, lips pulling back in a wordless snarl. How dare this wizard hurt him, after falsely professing friendship. How dare she betray him, after all he had to suffer? After he chose, so bravely, to risk himself again?
In parallel with her fury, the Dragon roars above them. The island trembles.
A moment later, fWhip appears at Gem’s side, his hands still empty. His vivid red goggles are shoved up onto his head, revealing his own eye bags, and his face is set into a somber expression Lizzie has never seen from him before.
“Jimmy, please,” Gem practically begs, eyes wide and expression open and Lizzie hates it, “Please, let us explain!”
“What? No! You stranded us in the End, Gem! I- I can’t believe …” his voice trails off and he takes a deep breath. His grip tightens on his sword, “I can’t believe you tricked me.”
Gem flinches, face crumpling, “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry– I’m so sorry, Jimmy. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Right,” Jimmy spits, “No need to, not when you can follow big brother around and help him make everyone miserable.”
“No,” fWhip cuts in, dropping a hand on Gem’s shoulder and stepping forward, “No, this is on me. Only on me. Don’t go blaming Gem– you know she’s not like that.”
Lizzie scoffs at that, “Right, you definitely made that whole dungeon all by yourself.”
“No,” fWhip lifts his chin, holding firm, “But everyone knows what I’m like when it comes to chaos and hairbrained schemes, and…” his eyes flick to Jimmy, mouth twisting with regret, “Making people miserable.”
“fWhip,” Gem protests, “That’s not–”
“It doesn’t matter,” he cuts her off. By now his seriousness is starting to get to Lizzie; she has never seen the Count like this. He’s always cracking jokes, especially when it’s not appropriate. He never takes anything seriously.
“Doesn’t matter?” Jimmy echoes incredulously.
“It doesn’t matter,” fWhip insists, “Because we have bigger things to worry about. It doesn’t matter, because it’s my fault either way. Jimmy, I’ll give you the Codhead–”
“What?” Jimmy immediately perks up at her side, and this time Lizzie drops a hand on his shoulder, stepping forward in a mirror of fWhip.
She eyes him warily, “What’s the catch?”
“We need your help,” Gem answers, voice soft. It’s nearly drowned out by the constant shrieking of endermen, the shouts of their fellow rulers, the deafening roar of the Dragon.
“What kind of help,” Lizzie presses, suspicious.
“Chaos is coming,” fWhip says, irritatingly somber and completely unhelpful, “The demon– Xornoth– isn’t even at full power right now.”
“It’s the Dragon,” Gem adds, “It’s the only thing holding the demon back. Please,” she steps forward, shrugging off her brother’s hand, wide eyes fixed completely on Jimmy’s face, “We can’t let the Dragon die.”
Jimmy visibly flounders in the face of her earnestness and the ridiculous claim, mouth moving as he tries to find words. Lizzie doesn’t like this– not one bit.
“Why should we trust you?” she cuts in before Jimmy can straighten himself out.
Gem is the one to falter at that, her face twisting into something almost terrified as she rocks backwards– instinctively leaning toward her brother. fWhip reaches out to meet her, squeezing her shoulder, before turning his hard gaze onto Lizzie. For a moment, she expects a threat– his expression is so sharp– but then he lifts his free hand to cross his arm over his chest and bow his head.
“I swear to you, Ocean Queen Lizzie, on the redstone blood of my land, of my people. I swear on my existence and my title… and my sister’s life,” he looks up at the last vow and meets her eyes, and her breath abandons her with the weight of it. “We are not lying to you,” his voice is firm and sincere, “and I truly regret my actions towards your alliance, but most especially towards the Codfather himself. I was short sighted and foolish, and I beg of you to aid us in this far greater war against a foe we do not understand.”
Lizzie gapes openly at him, shocked beyond words. That… That was the smoothest, most earnest, most un-fWhip-like apology slash oath that she has ever heard. It was directly out of a courtly manners book– a perfect imitation of endless lessons she vaguely remembers like a half-forgotten dream.
“O-okay,” she manages after a moment. Then she straightens and clears her throat, “Very well. I’ll help.”
Gem surges forward immediately, digging through her satchel, “Thank you! Thank you, Lizzie. You need these.” She pulls out a half dozen little bottles each containing a brilliantly glowing End crystal.
She vaguely catches fWhip waving Jimmy to the side with a, “C’mon, let’s get your head,” but she’s entirely transfixed by the deadly little bombs Gem is shoving into her hands.
“If you open it and dump it onto obsidian or bedrock, it anchors and activates the crystal. They’re highly explosive, but they–”
“Heal the Dragon,” Lizzie finishes, still staring. She takes a slow, steadying breath, and then reaches out to accept them, “Ok. Let’s do this.”
Gem beams at her, her smile glittering in the dim light of the end. She looks almost like she belongs there, her purple robes fitting perfectly against the backdrop of the black obsidian pillar and swirling void, but then the Dragon swoops behind her, exhaling a noxious cloud of magic. All Lizzie can think as she pulls Gem out of its path is how unnatural the Dragon’s purple is, compared to Gem’s soft amethyst.
Gem stumbles with her pull, then surges forward at her side, and Lizzie is treated to the utterly bizarre experience of taking to the sky almost hand-in-hand with an enemy.
They are scattered from each other swiftly, and Lizzie is lost in the chaos. The other rulers whizz around her like insects, like leaves caught on the wind. It’s hard to keep track of who is who– everyone is just a blur of color against the backdrop of the swirling static of the void– but she’s able to catch bits and pieces.
Directly in front of her, Scott drops off a pillar in a startling nose-dive, leaving a shining crystal behind. He wheels into a low circle to catch his momentum, the tip of his wing almost touching Shrub’s hat where she stands on the ground. The gnome watches him soar upwards with a firm set to her jaw, clutching her glowing bundle, before she takes to the air behind him.
“Pix!” Gem cries somewhere off to the side, out of sight as Lizzie swoops around a pillar. She shouts something else, but it’s lost to the beating wind under the Dragon’s wings.
Sausage is cackling, a grating insane sounding noise.
A colorful blur catches her eye, and Lizzie turns to see her husband swoop past her.
“Joel!” she cries.
He pivots midair a beat later, turning to fly to her side, “Lizzie! Are you ok? You fell!”
“I’m fine! I’m fine–” her attention is drawn by the barreling form of the Dragon and she has to dive away from Joel to avoid it. By the time she’s gotten her bearings, Joel is on the other side of the island, still evading the Dragon.
Safely out of the line of fire for now, though she doesn’t like watching Joel deal with those pointy teeth, Lizze drops onto the nearest pillar. With shaking hands, she pulls out one of the little bottles Gem gave her.
She holds her breath as she pops it open and tilts it towards the bedrock cap of the obsidian. For a moment, nothing happens, then the purple magic seems to reach beyond its confines and with an almost audible pop, it’s suddenly there. It’s as large as her head and as bright as a fire– though a toxic vivid purple.
To her right, there’s a startling bang and she whirls to see fading grey-purple smoke on the next pillar over, where a crystal had just been.
Heart in her throat, Lizzie turns and dives off her perch. She’s not a moment too soon, as in the next second an explosion echoes out behind her and she has to flap her wings desperately to get her balance back. For a moment, she fears her hurried patch job is failing, but the Codfather’s slime seems to hold.
Once she’s certain she won’t plummet from the sky again, Lizzie whirls to survey the chaos. Joel is fleeing the Dragon, and Pix is pivoting away from him to chase after Pearl, Joey a beat behind him. Then Pix is whirling, twisting, out of control, falling, and Joey shoots– his flaming arrow arcs through the air and clips Pearl’s shoulder. A moment later, Pix steadies in the air, though his face is pale and one of his hands is pressed to his chest, while Pearl merely shoots a glare over her shoulder at Joey as she tucks her wings to her back and dives.
“What are you doing?!” Joel’s furious voice draws Lizzie’s attention to the other side of the battle, to where he’s aiming his bow with a scowl, “Stop placing these!”
“We have to!” Gem calls back.
Lizzie watches in muted horror as her husband’s arrow flies true, observing the moment it makes contact with the crystal through warped slow motion perception. It flares with a bright light– purple bleeding into white– and Shrub’s wide eyes and terrified expression are illuminated in stark relief for a mere moment before the explosion overtakes her. As the light fades, she’s nowhere to be seen.
There’s a shout of dismay– Scott, yelling Shrub’s name– followed by another, Jimmy’s voice shrill as he calls for Pix. There’s a blur of something plummeting towards the ground.
Lizzie, however, only has eyes for her husband as she takes off in his direction.
“Joel!” she calls, desperate, heart pounding in her throat, “Joel, wait!”
“Lizzie?” he turns towards her with a frown, letting the tension on his bow go.
Joey cackles as he plummets between them, surrounded by green and gold sparks. Jimmy dives after him, his sharp teeth glittering with reflected light, and Lizzie pulls up short, startled.
The Dragon roars, far too close, shaking her to her bones. Joel’s eyes widen and he lifts his bow to aim towards her– behind her.
With a yelp, she dives.
“Hey!” fWhip’s voice calls, “You overgrown lizard! Over here!”
She pulls up as she approaches the ground, stale air whistling past her ears, and risks a glance over her shoulder. The Dragon is chasing fWhip, who is darting higher into the void-like sky, and Joel is right behind her, eyes wide and worried.
She banks to the side and towards the ground, barely managing to keep her feet as she stumbles to a stop on the porous endstone. Joel is only a beat behind her, terracotta wings clinking as he lands, tripping and nearly running into her. Lizzie reaches out and clings to his arm, though she’s not certain if it’s to steady him or calm herself.
“Lizzie!” his voice is lifted above the din, above the shrieking endermen and the chaos above them, “What’s wrong?”
“You need to stop!” she calls back.
Joel scowls at her, incredulous, “What?”
She leans closer against his side, squeezing his arm harder, “The Dragon! It’s holding back the demon! We need to–”
Her next breath is agony. The world around her is purple. Her eyes burn and her gills feel like liquid flame. She coughs, swaying, and then she’s being pulled – Joel is hacking at her side, and they trip…
She feels the impact of her knees on the ground, sees a flash of green sparks in the corner of her eye, and then… she’s gasping awake, sitting up in a bed, her head reeling.
She’s in the dungeon.
There is a pile of TNT to her right, a pile of barrels to her left, and an ominous iron door just beyond that.
Lizzie shoves to her feet, ignoring how the world sways around her, and stumbles for the door and the maze of horror that lurks within. Her hands are clumsy as she hits the button and pries the door open, and she feels her lack of a weapon acutely as she shuffles hurriedly into the darkness.
The first few turns she takes are random, her anxious breathing echoing strangely off the narrow walls, but soon she stumbles to a stop at… Well. It’s the edge of a crater.
The maze of narrow halls and silent creepers is gone, leaving a concave pile of rubble, and at the very bottom… there’s the glimmer of something like stars. Something blue and green and nauseating, like and so unlike the void of the End.
Heart in her throat, Lizzie takes a tentative step onto the pile of rubble. After a moment where it seems like it might hold, it sags beneath her and she yelps, throwing her arms out to her sides even as her wings burst into being behind her– a flare of muted pain rushing up her right shell-like appendage.
Gritting her teeth against the discomfort, she takes a steading breath and glides towards the portal.
…It’s more ominous, seeing it properly. She has to force herself to drop through it, and she holds her breath despite herself.
It’s just as disorienting as the first time– a whirl of color and darkness and static that gives way to the oppressive stale weight of the End and the shiny obsidian platform suspended in midair beneath her feet. She immediately spreads her wings– prepared to fly straight back into the fray, devoid of all armor and weapons– but is pulled up short.
The sky is purple.
No. No, that’s not right. The void is still the void, but there is a light coming from the island that is as bright as the sun. It explodes from the heart of the obsidian pillars, radiating upwards like a beacon, twisting and writhing like a dying sea serpent.
The void feels heavier, thicker.
Lizzie can’t breathe.
It smells like decay.