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Eret watched as fires blazed in the sky, the blue, red, and white stripes succumbing to a burnt crisp as a particular fox-man clung into the flagpole.
He looks down at Niki, who was bawling on the floor. No words, just piercing cries.
“Fundy you bastard!” Eret cried, watching Fundy idle silently on the flagpole, watching with deceitful eyes. He glared at Niki with vacant eyes, yet Niki was too distraught to recognize it was all a facade.
Eret knew of Fundy’s plan. To gain Schlatt’s trust and strike from the inside. Risky plan, but effective.
Thing is, the plan didn’t involve this.
He could still be on Schlatt’s side and be good. Why did he do this?
Is this what it felt like to be betrayed? Damn. A taste of his own medicine, he supposed.
In what timeline, where Fundy and Eret used to be allies, and Fundy and Niki ran together for president, all of that came crumbling down? Niki was one of the only remaining members left that didn’t succumb to Schlatt’s tyranny. Fundy erased all traces of his L’Manberg identity. A full fledged Schlatt advocate. Even if he wasn’t an ally, due to his spy agenda, Eret felt disheartened.
Maybe it was his traitorous actions coming to bite him.
He wishes he could go back to a time before all of this. Schlatt’s tyranny, the banishment of his ex-friends.
To a place where the flag was still standing, and friendships were still intact.
—
It was during the Pet War.
Pets were getting slaughtered, blood was shed, and promises were broken.
Amidst all the events, there was one single thing that made Fundy realize all faith in the server wasn’t gone.
It was when Fungi’s grave was put back together, diamond block and all.
And honestly, he would’ve never had guessed that act of kindness came from a person so traitorous.
Fundy wanted to thank him, and he knew exactly where he was.
He walked over to Niki’s bakery, above the hill on a swing bench, sat Eret peacefully. He looks great as per usual. The red cape never got dirty, his shades concealed his white voided eyes, and his crown stayed regal as ever.
“Eret.” Fundy smiles.
Eret looks over, slightly startled. “Fundy.”
Fundy walked over, sitting on the opposite side of the swing. “I knew I’d find you here.”
Eret’s brows knit in, puzzled at Fundy’s statement. “How so?”
“I knew you liked watching the sunsets.” says Fundy, as his eyes laid upon the sunset dawning in front of him, intercepting with the sea. It was more of an orange hue, alike to the fires smelting in L’Manberg. Warm, feeding a sense of familiarity to the ex-comrade.
“It’s one of the only places where you can see the sunset clearly with the sea. This and the top of the walls in L’Manberg. And I know you can’t really enter in L’Manberg so.. yeah.” Eret hears Fundy’s voice drop at the mention of L’Manberg, like it was a sacred topic to never be touched, a sin to speak upon non-L'Manbergian's tongues. People always swerved the mention of it whenever talking to Eret, afraid it would ignite some hostility or awkwardness between them.
Eret appreciates the sentiment. Sure, it was a tricky subject, but he couldn’t swerve around it. He gets stared like the word “TRAITOR” was written on his forehead. Though, he had to ask, “How’d you know I liked sunsets?”
Fundy seems startled at the follow up question, but comfortable enough to answer. “I remember when you were still with L’Manberg, after a long day of grinding for supplies you’d climb up the ladders right before sundown and swing your feet over the ledge of the walls. And you’d just watch the sunset until Wilbur ridiculed you for slacking off and — ”
“I would never listen.” Eret smirks wistfully.
“You would never listen,” Fundy echoes, wearing a fond smile. “It pissed the hell out of Wilbur, god, it was so funny. And you kept doing it as well, every sunset or so.”
The grin on Fundy’s face proceeded to subdue, a question prodding his mind. “Do you still do that, Eret? On your tower, or your palace?”
The question lingers in the seaside air. “Nothing can really replace the view on L’Manberg’s walls. I’ve given up on finding another spot, cause the walls.. it’s one of the memories of L’Manberg I hold close to me.”
“What are the others?” Fundy asks.
Eret feels himself back in L’Manberg, the glimpses of his blue uniform, the blackstone walls towering above with such grandeur, and the earthy scent of redwood trees. A reel of memories flashes through his mind, handpicking one from the rest.
“Karaoke nights,” Eret says. He could already sense the nostalgic smile on Fundy’s face. “Wilbur suggested singing would help ease our hearts when Dream declared war, turns out, he’d also be the one begging us to stop singing at 2 A.M. I also think he was slightly joking.”
“He had it coming,” Fundy adds. “You tempt four guys who are god awful at singing to karaoke? Your ears would never recover.”
“I know mine didn’t.”
“Rude.” Fundy remarks, side-eyeing him.
“Come on, you decided to sing Bohemian Rhapsody, at 1 A.M mind you, that song is practically asking for you to break your vocal cords.”
Offended, Fundy retorts back, “You’re the one who suggested singing a duet with me — Alright, fine, but at least I carried Mamma Mia — ”
Eret rolls his eyes, “Oh come on — ”
“I’ll leave it at that.”
“That was a team effort, and come on I thought we did pretty well, y’know.”
“Everyone else would beg to differ.”
“Oh who the fuck cares, it doesn’t matter when you’re just fucking around, having a good time.”
A chuckle suppressed in Eret’s mouth, recalling the karaoke nights in L’Manberg. They were usually held on the weekends, the result of sleep deprivation and spikes of hyperness late at night. Wilbur would pluck his guitar, purposely singing bad to vocally heavy songs and be a pitchy mess. Tommy and Fundy were also pitchy, except they were genuinely trying, poor guys. Tubbo would be doing backup vocals while air-drumming to nonexistent music, that or mimicking the notes of a piano. It was weirdly wholesome. Eret never had the confidence to sing, ironic considering his voice, but it took a few hours to warm up and then he was just as chaotically loud as the rest.
Eret would do anything to experience those nights again.
Thing is, he could’ve, if it wasn’t for a specific offer from a specific masked man.
“I miss that you know, just fucking around. And now whenever we fuck around were potentially starting up war.” Eret’s shoulders slump, and the sunset turned bleak for a moment.
He just had to ask, “Do you still do karaoke nights?”
Eret notices Fundy’s smile melt away. Just like that, Fundy was ripped away from his happy memories, reminded of the depressing present. He also noticed the orange sunset painting his face, nourishing the fox-man’s skin that was missing it’s usual warmth. That answers his question.
“Not as much as I want to. Wilbur and Tommy are always busy, they’re swamped with work. Not even that it’s.. ever since the war, nothing’s been the same.”
“War does change people, whether that be good or bad.” Eret agrees woefully.
Eret knew a thing or two about change. Just months ago they were wearing the same uniform, on the same side. One could say brothers. Now Eret is wearing a crown, and Fundy is sat uniform-less, on opposite sides. And yet through it all, here they were, sat on a wooden swing, talking like old friends.
“Well, I know what type of person you think I am.” Eret chuckles cynically.
Fundy’s lips thinned, thinking attentively, “I — I actually don’t.”
Eret eyes him judgingly, “Did you just — I mean, I quite literally backstabbed L’Manberg.”
“Yeah but, you also helped fix Fungi’s grave.” Eret’s face softens, looking towards the newly furnished diamond block in the distance. “I think you’re a good guy for doing that, I mean, why else would you do it?”
Eret pouts, not a concrete idea in mind. “I just wanted to do something nice for once, cause y’know, most of the server hates my guts. I needed to convince myself I’m not a totally shitty person.”
“You think you’re a shitty person? Why?”
“Want me to list them off?” Eret snarkily replies, a pity laugh following. “It’s just..” he sighs weakly, “A lot of people think I’m a terrible, bad person. And they’re totally right, it's true.”
Quietness stills in the air, until Fundy chooses to break it. “I.. I just don’t think that’s true Eret.”
Eret blinks at him, baffled, “What?”
“Our mistakes don’t define us. What matters is what we do now. And what you did right now, is good. You’re a good person Eret. Genuinely. I mean, if it makes you feel any better, out of the two of us, I’m probably the most terrible.”
Eret giggles, “Fundy, that’s — no. You’re a good person, I’m nothing like you.”
“That’s not true, I’m sure we have something in common, like — ah, you betrayed L’Manberg, and I persuaded Niki to kill a fox, my own kind Eret —”
“ — you what?”
“See? Betrayal! We’re not so different.” Fundy smiled way too casually, Eret notes.
Eret gawks at the fox-man(iac), wondering when he got so morally grey. He brushes it off, hoping it was for a good cause. He laughs, possibly out of fear, “I’m really nothing special, I don’t know what makes you think that.”
“It’s not that you’re not special, but I guess I’m just.. I dunno. Whenever people see you they just scatter like flies. Or there’s this weird tension in the air when you enter the room.”
“My power, I guess.”
“Yeah,” Fundy sighs, making a swatting motion with his hand. “I’m kinda jealous of it really.”
“That’s not something to be jealous of, Fundy.”
“Oh you wouldn’t be saying that in my shoes, Eret,” Fundy laughs dully. Eret grimances, feeling that laugh come from a place of hurt. “At least people that you take seriously. I guess that comes with being king. If you tell a person to screw off they’ll probably piss themselves and obey right away. See, if I were to do that, they would laugh at me and call me a furry.” Eret feels a giggle slip. “Oh fuck off, not you too.”
“I’m sorry,” a straight lie.
“I’ll forgive you since you fixed Fungi’s grave, but that’s exactly what I’m saying. Even L’Manberg doesn’t take me seriously. Kinda sucks, especially when most of it comes from Wilbur, and you know Tommy — god, don’t get me started on Tommy.”
“Oh, Tommy.”
Fundy groans, “ — the little gremlin is the worst. He copies whatever Wilbur does, calling me a furry is included in that. Anyways, where was I going with this? I’m just ranting about how I hate the little shit.”
“Um, something about being a good person?”
“Oh. Right. Basically, even though you’re a traitor piece of shit — ”
“ — ouch.”
“You’re a good person Eret. And that’s coming from the son of L’Manberg’s president. I shouldn’t even be talking to you, but fuck it. Fuck Wilbur.” Although the execution was blunt, the sentiment was there. “Speaking about fucking Wilbur — oh, I mean — ”
A burst of giggles erupt from Eret, “That sounded so wrong.”
“Shut up, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Fundy squeezed his eyes shut, like he was trying to block out the embarrassment, “I meant, fuck, you know what I meant. What I mean, do you just wanna climb on L’Manberg’s walls? Just for old times sake, and to also spite Wilbur, but that’s me asking for too much.”
“You know I’m banned for life.”
“Technically,” a hint of mischief laced in his voice, and Eret knew he had a thing for bending the rules. “If you climb up the walls outside of L’Manberg.. Y’know, it’s on the outside not the inside.”
“And what’s gonna happen when Wilbur sees me?”
Fundy purses his lips as the gears in his head shift. “I have an idea, thing is, I don’t think you’ll like it.”
“This feels very wrong.”
Fundy steps back, admiring the reunion between the L’Manberg uniform and Eret. What a sight. And he was right, it did feel wrong. It was like looking into the past. “You’re being dramatic, you’ve worn this for months, one day won’t kill you.”
Eret sighed. The uniform itself wasn’t uncomfortable, but it felt abnormal. It was like a snake trying to shove back it’s shredded skin. He cuffed his sleeves, and wrapped the white scarf around his neck. He unconfidently tied it, trying different ways to style it, but it wasn’t the same.
“Oh Eret, come on. Seriously? You can’t even tie your scarf anymore?” Fundy swoops in, unraveling Eret’s sloppy attempt.
Eret’s shoulders sink, the tassels of his shoulder pads rustling against his arms, “Cut me some slack, I haven’t worn this in ages.”
“I can tell. The dust really sells it.” Fundy smirks, as he swiftly ties the scarf together. Eret loosened it a bit afterwards.
“So?” Eret says, awkwardly standing as Fundy held a stare.
Fundy didn’t mean to stare, but how could he not? It was so foreign to see the red, blue, and white instead of Eret’s typical red cape. It was like looking at an old friend, except the friend never left.
“Fundy? Does it look okay?”
“Huh?” Fundy blinks, not meaning to stare, “Oh, uh. Maybe you should hide your hair, with the glasses you kinda look like Jack.” he jabs as he grabs into Eret’s cap and dips it in front of his face, smirking to himself.
Eret groans, tipping it right back up. “I do not look good bald.”
Fundy rolls his eyes, “So picky, Eret. So picky.”
“Hurry up, the sunset is coming down. If Wilbur comes to chastise me might as well do it during a sunset.”
Fundy sprints towards inside L’Manberg, as Eret scouts for any spying heads. Just then a rope snaps down, with Fundy standing on top of the walls, eyes brimming with excitement.
Eret grabs into the rope, climbing up the walls to the top. He climbs over the border, standing on top. It was a familiar view. He was just as high off the ground, a view big enough to see across the docks, and enough to see L’Manberg. He turns towards the docks, met with the sea touching orange.
“Holy… shit.” Eret gasped. “It’s just as I remembered. Except.. more prettier.”
Fundy turns around, letting out a similar gasp, “Fucking hell, that’s.. Wow.” he grins, taking a seat on the edge of the wall, “At least these ugly black walls are good use for something.”
“Hey! I made these, don’t slander it.”
“Sorry, sorry, my bad. They’re not that ugly.”
“Just shut up and look at the sunset.”
Fundy obeyed, averting his gaze back to the docks. The sunset is just what Eret had said — beautiful. Fundy’s never seen such a vibrant shade of orange, and the ocean never looked more tranquil. It was straight out of a painting.
It honestly made Fundy smile. It filled this void evading his stomach, with this warm, sense of peace. It subdued the tension stiffening his body, made him forget about the wars and his current trouble regarding a specific arsonist killing his animals. The waves washed out everything wrong in his life, in one fleeting moment.
As for Eret, Fundy looked at him, expecting an exchange of happy glances, but his face was passive, yet taut.
“Is something wrong?”
Eret seemed surprised at the sudden question, not realizing Fundy was staring. “No, not at all. This is perfect, but,” Fundy feels his heart clench, uncertain as to what Eret will say, and something tells him it’s not good. “Something tells me this will be the last time I’ll get to see this.”
“What, the sunset?”
“No, this — us. I feel like this is the last time we’ll have this type of peace.”
“Peace? You’re making me worried here, Eret,” Fundy chuckles nervously, “You’re making me think something more terrible is gonna happen, like the world isn’t terrible in itself.”
Fundy tried to lighten the mood, but Eret still sat there, silent as ever. “No it’s just.. I don’t know. You’re right. I think I’m just being pessimistic.”
“Hey man. You can’t live life always on your toes. Live a little.”
Eret sighs inwardly. “I’ll try.”
“Atta boy.” Fundy smiles, giving a firm pat on Eret’s shoulder. As he did, the sky got increasingly darker, and the sky began to merge with the ocean’s blue. “You should head back now, it's getting dark, Wilbur might come and see us.”
“Yeah,” sighed Eret, scooting over the edge and back onto the wall. He walked down the path leading towards the ladders, glimpsing at Fundy one more time. “You’re staying?”
Fundy shrugs, “Just for a bit. You’re keeping the uniform?”
Eret looks down, forgetting he was still wearing it. A faint smile curled at his lips, “Just for a bit.”
They gave one final wave, as Eret descended down the ladders, took one final glance at L’Manberg, and went off his way. He snuck across the way back to his palace, afraid someone would notice the traitor donning the uniform of the nation he betrayed, not a good look.
That night, he slept in his uniform, reminiscing on the memories made wearing those clothes. He clung onto them, afraid that one day he’ll forget a period of his life where he had an actual family. He never wanted that to happen.
—
The smell of burnt fabric lingered in Eret’s nose. The smog from the fire loitered on his red cape, as well as the smoky stench that followed him as he trudged back to the wooden path connecting Manberg to Tommy’s now ex-base.
The journey on the way back to his castle was in solitude. There was this tension looming in the air that Eret was suffocating in. The images of the walls he built being demolished tainted in his head, an endless torturous loop. The loud echo of Schlatt’s exact words banishing Tommy and Wilbur’s lingered in his ears, like some siren driving him insane.
He needed peace, to get away from all the chaos. Ironic considering his castle was so big, but vacant, and most importantly, so lonely.
Eret set his cape on the throne, rubbing off the smog that stained on his skin. As he did, he felt the presence of someone behind him.
“Told ya’ I’m a terrible person.”
Eret jumped, turning his heel as he exchanged a glare with the fox-man. “Fundy! Fucking — what the fuck? You can’t just waltz in here and think everything is fine, the fuck are you doing here?”
Fundy backed away from Eret’s explosion of a reaction, smiling sheepishly, “Okay, okay, listen, I know you’re mad, and you have every reason to be, but please, just listen.”
Eret stares him down, trying to find lies beneath his sympathetic eyes. He couldn’t find any.
He rolled his eyes. “I already know you’re a spy. I don’t care whatever you do to take down Schlatt but, the flag? Really? You broke Niki’s heart, dude.”
Flustered, Fundy walks closer to the king. “I — Fuck, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t want to do it — ”
“Bullshit, you had a choice.”
“This was never a choice Eret. Schlatt winning wasn’t my choice, and I know it wasn’t yours.”
“You’re choosing to side with Schlatt.”
“Only to take him down from the inside.”
“Taking him down from the inside doesn’t include burning a flag.”
“I had to earn his trust, okay?”
“And that gives you the right to break your trust with your running mate? Just like that?” Eret retorts, trudging over to Fundy. “Niki didn’t get a goodbye, or any type of explanation. She just had to sit and watch each of her allies slowly leave her, Tommy, Wilbur, Jack, fuck, even Tubbo. And you, her running mate. The one she put her trust into the most.”
Fundy stood in silence, watching Eret’s chest heave as his fists quivered.
“I know a thing or two about betraying friends, and believe me, what you’re doing, you think it’s good, but — you lose people you love on the way. It’s not worth it, man.”
“I.. I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry to me, say sorry to Niki.”
“I can't. I have to keep up with this act.”
“And you think when all of this is done, Niki is just going to accept you that easily?”
Fundy holds a breath. “I’m not.. I would rather not think that far ahead yet.
“Start thinking about it, then.”
Fundy holds his reply. He sighed. “Im sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.” He whispered, turning away from the king. He follows the exit, holding every emotion back.
“Wait.”
Fundy stopped. Hesitant to face the king, he waits for the follow up words.
“Why me?”
Fundy’s brows twist in, this time turning back to Eret, “I.. sorry?”
“I’m the only person who knows about this plan, yeah?” Fundy nods. “Why? You could’ve picked Niki, Tubbo, your father.. Why me?”
It was true. Out of everyone, Niki was the most vocal of her resentment towards Schlatt. Her spirit could fuel the resistance brewing amongst the citizens. Tubbo.. he was a tricky one. He doesn’t want to be Schlatt’s right hand man, it’s so obvious. Fundy knows he would team up with anyone willing to take down Schlatt. As for Wilbur, well, he’s the president. That already put him in charge of some type of rebellion.
They’re all the original members of L’Manberg and are determined to overthrow Schlatt. And yet, Fundy told the infamous traitor.
“Because, well, I need somebody, right?” Fundy chuckled emptily. “I’m alone. My father hates my guts. Niki probably hates me too. And Schlatt I.. I don’t think he cares about anyone really. Like you said, you know a thing or two about betraying friends.”
“Curse me then,” Eret chuckled, “My traitorous acts affected you too.”
“Well, we had good intentions, did we?”
“Doesn’t mean it was the right decision.”
That left Fundy in silence. With those few words Fundy knew what Eret had regretted. “I trust you Eret.” He says, “And I trust my father and Niki and everyone in L’Manberg. But I can’t risk letting them know my plan. I need to put my trust in someone that is neutral.”
“And you chose me?” Eret questioned.
Fundy pouted, thinking that Eret was trying to make him rethink his choice. But he didn’t. “I knew I could trust you that day on the swing. So it’s why I told you.” Fundy saw the tension soften on Eret’s face, the memories of that day washing away his anger. “Don’t make me regret my decision.”
Eret remembered that day so clearly. It was so peaceful. So euphoric for just two dudes admiring a sunset, rambling about their pasts and the present.
He groans in his hands, “Ugh. Fuck, fine. Just.. please know what you’re doing.”
“I am. I’ll make you proud. I swear. From one traitor from another.”
Eret scoffed, “I’m serious, Fundy.”
“And I’m serious as well,” he remarked, “I swear on my life.”
Eret studies him for a while, watching a hopeful smile appear on the fox-man’s face with a gleam of ambition. Fundy really wanted to do this, and he wanted to prove himself. Eret walked up to him, and slung him into a hug. He was never one for hugs, but it felt necessary. Fundy seemed astonished by the sudden skinship, but nevertheless, he returned the hug.
“Be safe okay?” Eret mumbles, “And be smart about this.”
“When am I not?” Fundy jokes, but it didn’t land. The smile from his dull joke wears off, “No, I will Eret. I know what I’m doing. You be safe too.”
Eret unlatched himself, being the first to turn away. Fundy slowly backs away as well, walking towards the exit.
He walked to his base, sorting through his Enderchest for a spare book and quill. It wrote messily “a Spy’s Diary” on the front, and flipped to the next page.
He had to do this right. He had to overthrow Schlatt, and prove to his comrades that he could do something right.
And Eret. He had promised him that as well, and he would never break that promise.