Chapter Text
“Why do you want to be invisible so much, anyway?” Jaden asks lazily, some few blocks above him on the boulder–sized ice island.
Wemmbu takes the time to gulp down the final drop of silvery liquid, wiping his mouth with the cuff of his sleeve, as he thinks of a response. It stings the inside of his throat, like he’s swallowing glass, as he starts the mental countdown. Jaden only looks mildly curious, like he’s asking about the weather, so the way his stomach clenches slightly at his words is fully irrational.
And by ‘final’, Wemmbu really does mean the very last drop of invisibility left on him. The rest have been eaten up by the hours that seem to have flown by, and he was none the wiser about it until extremely recently.
Shrugging, he says, “So you don’t know who I am, buddy.”
“Mm, yeah, sure,” Jaden hums, already distracted.
“But— do you have an ender chest? Or blaze rods, powder, anything to make brewing stands?” Wemmbu asks, hopeful.
It’s strange, because he expects a positive answer. Wemmbu only came along on this stupid Parrot–esque quest for a chance to find Boomie or Boosfer, but the type of person Jaden’s revealed himself to be in the past day or so has been genuinely startling. With his offputting kindness, the way he’s actually helpful in battles and an interesting conversation partner, it all leads to one conclusion: Jaden’s a good teammate. With time, he might even prove himself to be a good friend.
It’s weird as hell.
“No, I don’t,” Jaden says. He sounds disappointed.
Wemmbu sighs. “No brewing stands? No—”
“It can’t matter that much, dude, we’ve been through so much,” Jaden says, with half an unsure laugh. The together goes unspoken, but its absence doesn’t make it any less obvious. “Like, who cares?”
“Well…” he stumbles for words again. “I kinda need it. I need this.”
“I was with Parrot and Theo a little earlier and I think they left one of their e–chests on an island nearby,” Jaden offers. “But I do think they’re getting closer to the treasure, so we gotta hurry up.”
“Wait, what island?”
He points to somewhere on the horizon. It’s far enough that Wemmbu can’t see it naturally, so all he can do is trust Jaden’s word that it even exists. For whatever reason, he finds that he does.
There’s only one issue: his trident is about to break.
“Do you have a full durability trident?” He asks. “I’m not gonna make it by boat.”
“I don’t, no. Just use your elytra, bro, here,” Jaden says, and tosses it to him. Wemmbu catches it, and then the pack of firework rockets that Jaden throws down after that.
“Uh,” Wemmbu starts. “I don’t—”
“Why weren’t you using it before, even?” He says, curious.
Well, maybe the fact that the elytra exposes his natural bright purple wings which, might he add, are not hidden by invisibility pots at all.
But he can’t say that, obviously.
Wemmbu shrugs again.
“I guess I have no choice,” he says, mostly to himself. “Okay, I’ll be back, just stay here and we can beat up Lobsterman after.”
—
Sure enough, there actually is an island, and an ender chest atop the hill in the centre of it.
By the time Wemmbu’s there, after some minutes of flying, his invisibility has long since run out. It’s not a problem, since nobody else is here on this lone island in the middle of the sea— beside Parrot, Theo, and Jaden, apparently. Still, Wemmbu really should be conserving his last few potions, seeing how he also doesn’t have the ability to craft any more for now.
But— but, the second he feels himself returning to visibility, the same paranoia begins to creep up on him, because there’s no telling what could happen next, who could arrive. And, more than that, the physical sensation of being without the potions— the burn in his throat, jitter in his hands that climbs and climbs until he can’t hold them still anymore. It feels suspiciously like dependency.
Wemmbu sits down on the hill. Knees tucked under his chin, he considers his options.
There’s no actual long–term danger, because he can always just buy more potions from Theo and Parrot’s shop. That part is fine. His future will be fine.
But what about now?
The thing is, he doesn’t really want to let Jaden down. And god, that sounds weird as hell to say, when he acknowledges it out loud, but— he doesn’t. It’s been fun, this dumb quest for treasure.
He sighs, and uncorks the bottle. There’s no telling when it got into his hands, but it’s not like he can question it now. There’s a burning in his gullet, fire or glass shards.
Then, quenched. Silver liquid so pale it is nearly translucent, it settles his stomach, which rolls in protest. The effect is temporary at most; the pulsing ache in his throat sparks up again.
And again. And then it tightens, and he coughs so hard it feels like he split something in his neck. Wemmbu drops the empty bottle, which rolls down the hill and comes to a stop somewhere in the sand.
Well, it’s not like it’s unexpected, at any rate. He’s been coughing a lot more than the normal amount ever since he started this invisibility stint.
However.
As his vision goes fuzzy at the edges, one hand braced under his ribs, which feel like they’ve been broken or something, the coughing does not stop. At all.
There’s something wet on his lips. Huh. What, his body’s finally rejecting the potions? But as he wipes it off with the sleeve of his shirt, instead of the pearlescent gleam of invisibility, it is dark red and metallic on his tongue.
Huh.
That’s probably not good.
Rolling over so he’s on his knees, naught but grass and dirt ahead of his eyes, he continues to heave it all out. Blood, and blood, and more blood, dripping from his mouth, staining the fauna beneath him. He gags.
“What the—” someone says.
Wemmbu blinks, and finds that it’s really hard to peel his eyes open once they’re shut.
A hand on his shoulder. He jerks away, because a hand only ever means danger, because a hand could only be holding a sword or crossbow or axe, and there’s nothing good that could come from that.
One hand outstretched, bracing himself up, he barely catches himself from falling directly into the dirt. Thankfully, the coughing is slowly, so very slowly, beginning to subside.
“Chill!” The person says, above. “Okay, my bad. No touching. Dude, invis dude, chill out. It’s me. It’s Jaden.”
“What are,” Wemmbu says between hacking wheezes. “What’re you doing here? I said to wait for me.”
“I had a weird feeling about it,” Jaden admits. “You sounded kinda weird.”
He’s crouched down beside him, eyes wide with concern.
“You good? What even was that?” he asks.
“Don’t worry about it,” Wemmbu says.
“…Huh?”
“It’s not an issue,” he repeats, and wipes his mouth. “I’m dealing with it.”
He staggers to his feet. The rush to his head, unsteady knees that threaten to buckle, it is all not an issue.
“You can’t be serious,” Jaden says. “You might be invisible, but I can still see the blood everywhere. How are you even standing?”
“It’s fine. I’m not sick or anything,” Wemmbu says. “It’s just the potions. They’re getting to me.”
Jaden sighs. “Then, like I said before, why are you even invis to begin with? I know I can trust you, and I think you trust me too. There’s really no point in hiding your identity, y’know?”
“Sure, whatever,” Wemmbu says offhandedly. “You don’t know me, not really. But— look, we’re out of time. We should get back to treasure–hunting.”
He takes a step, before plummeting down back to the earth. Jaden yelps, panicked, as he falls, catching him before his head slams into straight rock.
“I’m good!” he says. “We can keep going.”
“You’re an idiot,” Jaden tells him. “The treasure isn’t that important. Rest first.”
“…Seriously?” Wemmbu asks, disbelieving.
He sighs. “Yes, bro. We can take five minutes.”
“Fine. But only five.”