Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Villagers generally got along well with Players. They either didn't bother each other, or the Players would actively help defend the villagers and their homes. So, when more than a dozen Players found themselves stranded in the desert, the villagers welcomed them in. Some were wary of the zombie-like Player in the group, but he made his home some distance away, didn't bother the villagers, and generally acted more like a Player than a zombie. The first Player to cause a problem was, instead, a bumbling human.

-----

“Uh, Skizz?” Sausage tapped his shoulder nervously.

“Yeah?”

“I got a bad feeling about this. I don’t think that worked.”

The two of them had just finished luring away and dispatching a pillager patrol that had wandered in. Skizz had just killed the leader, with precautions to prevent a-

Raid horns sounded in the distance. Maybe he hadn’t been as far outside the village border as he thought.

Skizz and Sausage shared a nervous look. “Uh-oh.”

Both ran to opposite ends of the village to put up the best defense they could. Logic poked his head out of his house at the sound of the raid horn, and joined in. Almost immediately, a death message sounded on Skizz’s communicator: Sausage, to a vindicator. Skizz started running back the other way, killing the vindicator just as Sausage reappeared to regroup.

Things started to go downhill when the ravagers showed up. The Legates had only just arrived in this world; none of the three defenders had ranged weapons, or even shields. The first ravager threw Skizz, trapped Logic on a pillar of sand, and attacked Sausage when he tried to come to Logic’s rescue. After respawning, Skizz had a bright idea and ran off, leaving Sausage to defend against the rest of the raid wave alone.

Skizz returned as soon as he could with a lava bucket, with which he trapped the ravager snapping at Logic. As he scooped the lava back up and Logic descended carefully from the pillar, Skizz started apologizing furiously. “I’m so sorry!” he started, glancing around at the village as the horns sounded again. “This whole thing is my fault-”

Something cold stabbed through his chest. Skizz caught a brief glimpse of the Vex that had flown through him from behind, before his breath caught, he fell, and died. Again.

In the next minute, Skizz was running toward the fray again. He had picked up a sword. Was it his? It didn't matter. The Vex that had killed him before swooped toward him again. Skizz dodged left and sliced the Vex out of midair. He grabbed the drop without looking at it and ran.

He was trying to find the others when he heard a high-pitched screech, looked up, and saw a cloud of Vex spiraling into the sky. What...?

They all swooped inward at once. Skizz’s communicator sounded.

LogicalGeekBoy was slain by Vex

Another cloud of Vex rose, then fell.

MythicalSausage was slain by Vex

And another, all around him.

Skizzleman was slain by Vex

And then, the Vex vanished, leaving only a few pillagers to drive away.

-----

With the raiders finally dispatched, all the emeralds, crossbows, and totems of undying were brought to a chest near the village center. All resources, especially items as valuable as these, were to be shared and made available to anyone. But as Skizz was putting away what he had found and reorganizing his stuff the way he liked it, an unfamiliar item caught his attention. He stepped out of view of the other Legates to take a closer look.

It had obviously fallen from the Vex he had killed. Sometimes, when something was killed in this world, it would leave behind a facsimile of its head. Plenty of people had been goofing around with fish or rabbit or spider heads already. This one was a little different, though. Instead of fitting over his entire head, this was just a mask, made out of what looked like some kind of ceramic or crystal. An ethereal glow shone from the eyes and mouth.

This was no ordinary loot. This was a trophy. And since it didn't have a practical use, Skizz was sure the other Legates wouldn't mind if he kept it for himself. Especially if they didn't even know he had it.

Chapter Text

Skizz sat on his bed, turning his trophy over and over in his hands. It felt nice to the touch, cool and smooth. There was no visible strap or anything to hold it on his face. There also didn't seem to be any actual eyeholes; the eyes looked painted onto a solid shape. Idly, Skizz held it up to his face to see if he could somehow look through.

He let out a small gasp at the energy that rushed into him, and snatched his hand away. The mask stayed perfectly on his face. He could see just fine, his vision tinted ever so slightly blue. He started to stand up.

Welcome, Raid-Bringer.

Skizz startled and fell back onto the bed. “Who’s there??”

A quiet laugh echoed in his mind. Ye know us. Ye fought and died to us. We like ye, so we granted ye our prize.

Skizz frowned, and felt the eyes of the mask frown with him. He traced his hand over the surface. “So wait, like... Vex or something?” He sort of remembered his friends mentioning Vex, in some capacity beyond “those annoying little ghost things”, but it had been a while.

The laugh again. Indeed, Raid-Bringer!

“So you guys think I’m a cool dude,” Skizz questioned, “ and my prize is... a spooky mask and voices in my head?”

Oh, but we grant more than our voice, the Vex corrected. We grant ye our power.

Energy swept through him again, arising in blue swirls and sparks at his fingertips. Skizz stared in amazement, experimenting with manipulating the blue light. “Magic? Oh, that’s awesome! Ooh, and it's blue. What can it do??”

Most anything ye can imagine, the Vex replied. We will teach ye. As long as ye wear the mask - and someday, even without it - ye can channel our power.

Skizz closed his hands into fists, putting out the light. “I gotta show this to someone. Man, the things I could do for-”

Not yet. Suddenly, Skizz was stuck. He couldn’t move. Just as he was starting to panic, though, he was released again. This is our little secret.

“I don’t know if these people are real big fans of secrets,” Skizz murmured. Something wasn’t right here. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, it was dismissed as overreaction.

Dark times are coming, the Vex warned, suddenly serious. Nights of fighting and bloodshed, these people ye trust so easily turning on each other in blind rage. Without us, ye will fall into the same fog of war. We see, in your soul, ye know that winning a fight against your fellows will not come easily. With our help, ye can defend yourself against the violence to come.

Skizz shivered. These guys could read his mind, and had some sort of control over his movement, and he wasn't sure he was a fan. "You're a dirty liar," he accused. He drifted his hand toward the edge of the mask. "You can't see the future."

Vex do not lie. We see more than ye know. We are familiar with the Withering that destroyed their world and makes its way ever closer to this one. We know the ways its chaos ebbs and flows.

Unwillingly, Skizz’s hand froze in place before it reached the mask, then fell back to his side. He started getting nervous again. But at the same time, he found that he knew what the Vex were getting at. He didn't think he was very good at many of the things he wanted to be good at. The Vex promised to augment his skills, to help him with the building and fighting that he struggled with. Their magic would be a huge boon. And, if they were telling the truth, of bloody nights ahead... well, Skizz was all too willing to level the playing field a bit.

“Alright, then, Vexies,” Skizz decided. “Show me what you - what we can do.”

Chapter Text

"There’s only one shape here, see? There’s no-"

Pearl stopped mid-sentence. Skizz turned to her curiously as something shifted. The sun was setting on the conversation, and something felt wrong-

A slow smile crossed Pearl's face, the red light of the moon reflected in her eyes. She drew her sword.

Skizz's heart thudded. He itched to reach for his own sword, but he probably couldn't beat Pearl in a fair fight. So he turned and ran, only slowing long enough to kick the button to open the door of his house. It was safe in here, he hoped.

Why do ye hide?

Skizz glanced over. The mask on the armor stand in a hidden corner glowed with life.

We warned ye of this, and we told ye to use our power.

His eyes flicked between the mask and the door. Some part of him still wanted to go out and fight. Skizz stepped closer to the armor stand. “Yeah, you did say that...”

Pearl halted at the iron door and pounded on it with her fist. She didn’t want to break into someone’s home to satisfy her craving for fighting, but it was infuriating that such an easy target had just run to safety instead of facing her.

She was about to turn and leave when someone flew through the closed door, sword in hand. Pearl, caught off-guard, tried to deflect it, catching a glancing blow to her shoulder.

Skizz - for that was unmistakably who it was, despite the mask hiding his face - pressed the attack, pushing Pearl back. The moment she moved her shield out of the way to retaliate, Skizz’s sword - was that enchanted iron? Who enchanted an iron sword? - was buried in her chest. Her own sword should have connected. How had it missed?

Pearl tried to meet Skizz’s eyes defiantly, but they were covered by the glowing mask. Only a hint of red from the moon shone through. Then, her vision faded, and she fell.

The next morning, Pearl cautiously made her way back to Skizz’s house. The bloodlust that had taken her last night had vanished with the morning sun; she assumed the same of Skizz, but was a little leery of the way he had acted under the blue mask.

Skizz was nowhere to be found at that moment. But there was a chest outside the door with Pearl’s name on it. Inside were all the tools, armor, and weapons that she had had on her when she died, and a diamond block labeled “For Your Help”, but everything else - all the building blocks and random items she had been using to try to help out - was gone.

-----

Python shivered slightly in anticipation as he watched the sun set. He knew what was coming. They all knew, now.

He breathed out a quiet breath through his sharp teeth. The withering of thoughts and instincts, the group-wide bloodlust for one another, had started a few nights ago. Python was one of the Legates who found themselves enjoying the blood nights, the haze that descended over everyone’s mind as the sun descended over the horizon. He used to be a monster of the night himself, after all. Sure, he had been civilized for a long time now, but that was all the more reason to occasionally enjoy his chances to go wild. The fire of battle burned in his belly, waiting to be released. He flexed his fingers - not much of a weapon, since he kept his claws filed down to make humanoid life easier - and crept toward the village center. 

Movement near the hillside instantly caught his attention. He pressed himself against a wall, some clearer part of his mind reminding him to draw his sword. There were no footsteps. Stealthily, Python peeked around the corner. There! The figure was hard to recognize at first, but they were definitely human. Python could tell.

Or... mostly human. There was something else, too. The sapient part of Python’s brain could have figured out that the person in front of him wore a mask, and that mask was important - and dangerous. But that part of Python was asleep right now.

The human stepped close, not noticing or not acknowledging his presence. Python’s inner fire burned hotter. He gave a long, harsh hiss of warning, then launched himself out of hiding, sword slashing toward the startled human’s neck.

The human dodged with unexpected agility, the sword blade passing so close it looked like it had passed through without harming them. They glowed, an iron sword appeared in their hand, and the fight was on.

Two swords clashed and clanged across the path. Python’s diamond sword glimmered with enchantments, but his prey's sword shone with chaotic fire. Every exhaled breath was another threatening hiss. Although the blood-red moon hadn't dulled his sword skills like it had his other human-like memories, he hardly landed a hit on his prey. When he finally did, the human staggered back, more surprised than hurt. Then, the human dismissed the spectral sword and swept their arm dramatically. A spike of faintly-glowing stone erupted at an angle from the ground, thrusting itself through Python’s chest.

Python woke sluggishly in the bed on his self-made island. The moon was still high overhead, but death had cleared his mind just a little bit. He still smoldered with the need to get out and fight, but he forced himself to stay put for a little while longer, and reflect on what had happened.

He still wasn't thinking quite straight enough to recognize who he had fought, nor to see the significance of what they wore. He remembered the fight, though, and let out a slow sizzle of frustration. His prey had cheated.

He paced his island, tried to sleep, and bided his time until sunrise, knowing that seeking revenge now, with no armor or sword, would only get him killed again quicker. With sunrise would come peace, and more importantly, clarity.

Chapter Text

Skizz sat up in bed with a grumble. He hadn't been sleeping well. No one had, with the Withering pushing at everyone's minds, making them want - need - to fight as soon as the sun set. But ever since he had killed Pearl with brutal efficiency and a fancy sword on that first blood night, Skizz was frequently awoken by dreams about doing the same thing to other Legates. Last night's dream was different, and particularly vivid - it involved a new way of killing that Skizz had never seen before. And his victim was-

A knock on his door drew his attention. Skizz looked over and jumped when he saw a creeper face pressed against his window.

After a moment, he registered that it was a red creeper face. This did nothing to calm his nerves. He had just remembered who had died in his dream last night - and realized that maybe it wasn't a dream that time.

"Skizzleman? Are you in there, buddy?"

Skizz wrapped his blanket around himself. “No, I’m not!” he called back. He had left Python’s gear in a chest outside. Python could have just grabbed it and left. But instead, Python was here to confront him, to tell him off, maybe even take out his anger on Skizz, or get him thrown out of the settlement to fend for himself in the desert...

“I want to help you, man,” Python called. “This isn’t about the fighting. Well, it kind of is, but it’s more than that. I promise, I just want to talk.”

More than that? More than the fighting? Then what... oh. Skizz gave the armor stand in the corner a sideways glance. The mask hanging off it seemed to laugh at him. It had taken him all of a week and a half to be found out.

Then again, Skizz clearly didn’t know what he was doing. He could use Python’s help, assuming Python was being honest about that. “Okay, okay, fine. Come on in.”

Python stepped inside Skizz's humble home, finding a place on top of a chest to sit. "Thank you. You look nervous."

"Well, I mean," Skizz said, "I haven't exactly been honest with you guys, have I? I got this...  this thing dropped on me out of nowhere, and it's cool and all, but it won't even let me talk about it!"

Python nodded sagely. "That sounds about right for Vex. Cool and mysterious."

"So," Skizz observed, "you have some experience with these guys, Mr. Smart Guy Creeper Man?"

Python waggled his head. "Secondhand. I used to be good friends with a couple people who dealt with Vex."

Skizz frowned. “Not here, though, right?”

“No, not here,” Python confirmed. “Long before I was, uh, summoned here, back when I was in Hermitcraft.” He grinned. “Did your friends ever tell you the story of Tango getting turned into an ice princess?”

“You know, I think I do remember hearing that,” Skizz laughed. “Was that really a Vex thing? The one talking to me seemed a little sinister, you know?”

“Maybe it seems scary because you didn’t know what was happening,” Python speculated. “From what I gathered, Vex are attracted to people’s desires and ambitions, and they boost that. My friends were already a couple of pranksters, so the Vex had them doing even bigger and cooler pranks.”

“All they’ve done so far is make me good at killing people,” Skizz grumped. “Does that mean that’s what I really want in life?”

“Of course not!” Python exclaimed. “Remember, we’ve got the Withering messing with our brains too. Right now we all want to kill each other, whether we like it or not. Your Vex are just picking up on that. You’ve said in the past that you’re not really a good fighter, right?”

Skizz nodded.

“Then that’s what they’re doing for you! They’re making sure you can hold your own out here.”

Skizz sat up straighter, looking more comfortable. “Like they told me before,” he remembered. “They warned me about the blood nights, but I wasn’t sure I believed them. Didn’t think they were telling the whole truth. Maybe they were!”

“Do watch out a little bit,” Python warned him. “But yeah, honestly, for now enjoy your cool magic! And hey, no hard feelings about killing me with it last night. That’s just something we all have to deal with right now.”

Chapter Text

It was the middle of the night when the Withering energies shifted. The clashing of weapons suddenly ceased; the moon shone white across the landscape. Legates who had been fighting each other moments ago turned to apologize... and realized that they couldn't find the words.

The Withering had changed its focus, it seemed, from violence to confusion, decaying the players' power of speech rather than their consciences. Nothing that anyone said came out the way they wanted, words mutating and dying before they could be spoken.

-----

“So... now what?” Skizz asked the mask hanging on its stand. “Now that the… fighty time? Fnights? Now that the fnights have stopped, are you just gonna leave or what?”

Of course not! The Vex seemed surprised at the suggestion. We chose ye. Ye are ours. Once a Vex, always a Vex - we never intended to leave after a single Withering, nor ever.

"Oh! Well that's pretty... pretty, uh..." Skizz cleared his throat. "Hey, how come you aren't having talky problems like the rest of us?"

We are unaffected by the Withering of Speech because we do not speak, the Vex explained. Our communication with each other and with ye is more direct. As our servant, ye are also able to “talk” mentally with us, and our conversations will not be hindered.

Skizz raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like a s... a de- dangit! Sounds good, how about." He closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself thinking something at the Vex. Like this?

Just like that! the Vex confirmed, seeming pleased. Humans are naturals at telepathy, when given the chance. Ye have so much imagination that ye can easily grasp the skill.

Well, hey, there's something I'm good for, at least, Skizz joked. Wait, can I talk to the other Legates like this? That would be so cool if we could all just dodge the talking issue completely!

Unlikely, the Vex answered. There are no other servants of Vex in this world.

Are there other magic users? Skizz wondered. What about that?

That would depend on their patron, the Vex explained. We don't-

But Skizz was already eagerly "yelling", trying to cast his silent speech as far as he could manage. Hey! Hello out there! Anyone?

A valiant effort, the Vex commended, but-

Whoa! Hello?? I didn't- wait a minute. You're not... who is that?

It's Skizzleman, dude! I've got magical mind powers now! But I'm also bad at matching up voices - who are you?

This is Chim! Where the heck did you get magic like this? I hadn't heard of any new additions to the Holy Bee priesthood...

Bees? I don’t know anything about bees, Skizz replied. I got it from- He winced at a sudden headache, pressing his hands to his temples. “Agh! Why??”

Ye are not to reveal our presence yet, the Vex commanded.

Hate to break it to ya, Skizz pointed out, switching back to mind-speech with the Vex alone, but I’ve been caught already. Python knows all about you.

The creeper would have known anyway, the Vex told him. He will keep our secret.

How do you know? Skizz started.

Hey, are you okay? Chim broke in. You kinda cut out there.

Everything’s fine, Skizz grumped. My, uh, my source is a secret. Yeah.

Oookay, Chim decided. Sure. If it’s so secret, though, why were you yelling into the Void about whether anyone could hear you?

Because this is exciting! Skizz exclaimed. Didn’t you notice? Everyone’s having problems with turning what’s in their brains into words, but since we’re talking directly out of our brains we have no problem!

Oh whoa, you’re right, Chim realized. We just totally bypassed the issue! If only we could talk to non-magic-users like this, right? Is that what you were trying to do?

Skizz nodded, then remembered that Chim couldn't see him. That is exactly what I was hoping to do. That sucks that I can't help everyone out a little with that... but hey, that means we've got an exclusive free pass!

That we do, Chim agreed. We haven't really seen much of each other, I feel like. I guess it'll be nice to get to know someone new.

Yeah, might as well, right? Skizz declared. Give ourselves a break from talking weird now and then.

Exactly, Chim finished. In that case, I guess I'll see you around, magic buddy.

Chapter Text

Skizz approached the mask again, setting it on his face with only a little hesitation. I think it’s time for me to learn more about magic.

We agree, the Vex replied smoothly. A little trickery to start your day, perhaps.

Skizz grinned. Trickery, huh? I do like the idea of getting a reaction out of someone with this. Ooh, can I do anything a Vex can do?

Anything a ven can do, the Vex corrected. The summoned spirits of our magic that ye are used to seeing are not us. Ye can do more than a ven, but ye do not have the same power as a true Vex. Ye understand?

Eh, semantics, Skizz brushed it off. Alright, I can do anything a ven can do. So that includes stuff like flying and going through walls, right? I remember doing the wall thing during a blood night...

Indeed. Flight will come more naturally when ye have earned your wings, but even now, our power can lift ye from and through the ground.

So basically, I can be a ghost and haunt people, Skizz decided.

The Vex giggled. Delightful!

That’s great, because I have a neighbor just on the other side of this wall, Skizz tapped the west wall of his room, who might be fun to give a good haunting to. I don’t think I want him to realize it’s me, though, or the jig will be up before it starts.

Your magic can change your voice, the Vex revealed, if that is your concern.

Skizz nodded. Suddenly, his hand started moving of his own accord. He yelped and grabbed it. Don’t do that!

We are teaching you the spell.

Skizz sighed. Okay, fine. He let go, watching apprehensively as his hand moved toward his neck. Two fingers tapped against his throat.

“Test, test,” he tried, and burst out laughing. His voice sounded like he’d been drinking helium - closer in tone to the Vex “voice” in his head than to his normal voice. He could definitely get away with this.

“Mythical... Mythicallllll...”

Skizz stifled a laugh, watching Sausage flinch at the sound of the strange, high voice emanating from the walls. Skizz could see surprisingly well from where he was floating between their bases; as soon as he entered solid terrain, it became invisible to him, allowing him to see into every cave and room nearby. But Sausage, on the other side of the wall, couldn’t see Skizz at all.

Skizz dropped down and moved through the floor until he was hovering just under Sausage’s feet. 

“Mythical!” Skizz yelled sharply. 

Sausage jumped and scrambled backward. “What’s going on? Who’s there??”

“Nobody,” Skizz answered, moving around behind walls and floor as he spoke. “Just a spooky ghooooost!”

Sausage drew his arms close to himself, eyes darting around, trying to find the spirit. “W-what do you want from me, Mr. Ghost? Why are you haunting me?”

Skizz paused at that. He hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. “Um... uh... give me... give me some blue shinies?” Although his voice was distorted with magic, he was still speaking aloud, and so couldn’t manage to utter the word “diamonds”.

“R-really?” Sausage replied. “Uh, I guess, if that’ll make you leave me alone...” He crept to his ender chest. Skizz followed around and below, staying out of sight, making “oooooooo” sounds at Sausage the whole way.

Sausage took out a few diamonds. He looked around, unsure, and tossed one experimentally on the ground. When the haunting didn’t stop, he threw another diamond.

Skizz didn’t really want to make his friend pay exorbitant amounts for the privilege of getting rid of him... or did he?

Nah, not this time. Skizz reached up, his hand appearing out of the floor, and snatched the diamonds. “Thank youuuuu,” he called, drifting away back to his own base.

Back at home, Skizz collapsed onto his bed, dissolving into a fit of high-pitched laughter. “That was-” He coughed, then tried again. Now, his voice was back to normal. “That was great,” he exulted. “The look on his face-” He broke into more giggles. “And I got two d- two blue rocks out of that! Whaddaya know!”

The Vex laughed with him. Ye could have taken more from him, ye know.

I guess. Skizz switched to silent speech. That wouldn’t have been very nice, though, would it? Even though we don’t have much use for diamonds around here right now.

They may not, the Vex corrected, but ye do. Diamonds are a conduit of magic in all forms - including Vex. They are useful to keep and collect.

Huh. Well, now I know that, Skizz replied. Hey, you said something earlier about ‘earning my wings’ or something - what needs to happen for that? I still haven’t gotten to look for elytras and I miss being in the air.

That will come soon enough, the Vex assured him. They are formed of your magic, from holding and using it, and in that ye have only just begun.

-----

It had been a few days since his ghost prank. Skizz gently pushed at a villager. "Go... that way!"

The villager humphed at him. Logic chuckled as he worked on coaxing another one to its station, with marginally better success.

An idea came to Skizz. He glanced around, making sure that no one was watching. Then he held his hand out, making it glow with a threatening blue fire.

"If you don't go where I want you to go," Skizz growled, "I'll... uh... do something with this that's not very nice. Got it?"

The villager's eyes widened at the sight of the blue magic, and it scrambled to its station before Skizz was even finished talking. Immediately it started chattering to its neighbor, spreading the word of warning.

"Whoa," came a surprised voice behind him. 

Skizz spun around to face Logic, quickly extinguishing the magic.

"What did you do to the poor guy?" Logic asked, smiling like it was nothing serious, but clearly curious and a little concerned.

"I, uh..." Skizz fumbled. "I'm just very... ugh!" He sighed frustratedly as he lost the word "persuasive". "Alright, what did you see me do?"

"Not much," Logic admitted. "But I could definitely tell you used some kind of energy that I don't think I've seen before, and that made the... guy... immediately do what you wanted them to."

Skizz frowned. He was pretty sure that with his back turned, the magic he'd threatened the villager with would have been completely hidden. "How did you even see that?"

Logic fidgeted with the earpiece of his glasses. “It’s something I cooked up to make red... working with red dust clearer. I found out later that it actually highlights any legerdemain around, and just now I saw some around you.”

“Look at you, getting around this with your big words,” Skizz commented jokingly. “Yeah, I’m kinda magical now. I guess it’s not that much of a secret, but I’m trying not to shout it to the whole place yet. I don’t know how they’d handle it-” Either the Legates or the Vex, he added silently to himself.

Chapter Text

The seasons are changing, the Vex warned. A Withering of defenses approaches. Ye will not be able to wear our mask as this occurs.

"What?" Skizz frowned. "Why not?"

It is a defensive item, is it not? Like armor, it must be set aside soon. But ye will have our magic still, and our guidance. We will prepare ye.

Following an unspoken command, Skizz reached for his mask and put it on.

A shock of magic coursed through him, stronger than any other time he had worn the mask. And the magic kept flowing, filling his nerves and veins with power. It felt amazing, but it also made him nervous. Why are you doing this? Skizz asked suspiciously.

Think of it as a stockpile. A precaution, the Vex explained. Ye have not been able to use magic very much without us yet, but we are granting ye enough to use freely during this Withering.

Skizz started to shiver, despite the warm climate. This really was a lot of magic. And they were still feeding it into him. Uh... don’t you think that might be enough?

No.

Blue arced across his hands as he wrapped his arms around himself. He couldn’t stop them, he knew - if he tried to pull the mask off before they wanted, they would just freeze him in place until their work was done. Even though-

Ow! You’re hurting me! It’s burning my face!

That is not our magic. The Withering of Defenses has begun. All around ye, the other residents of this world are being forced to remove their armor, as it burns them too.

The Vex sent one final blast of magic, then allowed Skizz to rip the mask off his head and throw it down, before picking it up again and putting the mask neatly back on its stand. His heart was pounding so fast he could barely tell one beat from the next. Now that the mask was off him, he only felt the cold, raw power of the Vex magic.

It was this moment that Python walked in on, hoping to just check on his friend and talk about the new shift. Skizz whipped around at the sound of his door opening, causing Python to step back in surprise at the intensity of the blue-white glow in Skizz’s eyes. Skizz relaxed a little when he saw who it was, but the magic wouldn’t let him sit still for long. “Python!” Skizz exclaimed, trotting over to greet him. Python noticed with alarm that Skizz’s voice was pitched a little high, and slightly echoed, just from the magic in his system. Skizz was also panting, as though he’d just run a lap around the entire settlement.

“Dude!” Python greeted back, catching Skizz before he danced out of reach again, one hand soothingly on his back. “What happened? What did you do??”

“It was their idea,” Skizz answered, a little tightly. “Can’t... can’t wear the mask for a while, so they tanked me up full of magic early. Whether that was a GOOD idea or not, I dunno yet.”

“Yeah, you look like they gave you more than you could handle,” Python observed. “Ah! What-” He jerked his hand away from Skizz’s back.

Skizz stepped away. "Did I accidentally zap ya? There is a lot happening right now and some of it is definitely happening right where your hand was.”

“It wasn’t a zap, more like a... hmm. Turn around for a mo’ and let me see?”

Skizz frowned in confusion, but obliged. Python could now easily see two sharp, blue crystals growing and branching out from Skizz's shoulder blades, visibly getting bigger by the moment. Unthinkingly, Python reached out and touched one. Skizz jerked violently away. Python put his hands up. "Sorry!"

"What was that?" Skizz wondered. "You didn't even touch my back, but I felt it anyway? That was a completely new sensation, and not a very good one."

"Right, right," Python remembered. "Vex don't like people touching their wings."

“I certainly don’t-” Skizz started. “Wait a second. Wings??” He twisted around, moving his head back and forth, trying to see over his shoulders. Python stepped back to avoid getting hit by the growing crystal points. “Oh! I think I see something! Those are wings? They look so weird!"

“They’re pure, crystallized magic, I think,” Python explained. “They may or may not look much like wings even once they’re done growing, but that’s what they are. I guess they’re really important.”

“Well, this is exciting,” Skizz commented.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Python wondered, wrinkling his flat nose. “It looks painful.”

“Surprisingly, no,” Skizz observed. “It’s pretty weird, and it felt bad when you touched it, but otherwise it’s fine. Kinda good, actually, because as these grow-” he poked his thumb backward - “I’m coming down off that magic high I was on a little.”

“Oh, yeah, your eyes aren’t glowing as bright as when I walked in,” Python noticed. “The wings must be pulling some of that away.”

By the time the process had concluded, the crystal wings had grown and twisted into branching shapes the size of elytra. Skizz experimented with moving them and folding them against his back in the same way. “This is so cool, dude.” He flicked his wings, grinning as the slightest motion lifted him off the ground. “I’m flying again! Who cares about elytra, right? This is my method of transport from now on.”

Chapter Text

Skizz flinched away again.

"Sorry, sorry," Python murmured for the dozenth time.

Skizz made a face that he knew Python couldn’t see. “Just hurry up, dude.”

“Almost there.” Python finished one last stitch, then stepped back to examine his work. “Yeah, that’s pretty convincing, I think. At least if no one looks too close.”

Skizz lifted his wings to eye level - he was already getting better at controlling them - and turned his head to look. The grey cloth that Python had found and carefully sewn around them really did make them look like a regular elytra. Fortunately, elytra weren't affected by the new Withering, so the cloth-covered wings wouldn't stand out too much.

"Alright!" Skizz exclaimed. "Thanks so much, dude. I appreciate you helping me keep this on the down-low."

"Absolutely, man," Python affirmed. "Sorry again for brushing against your wings so much - I tried not to, but it's hard to avoid, sewing that close to them. Especially with my stubby fingers."

"Yeah, I get it," Skizz sighed. "So glad that's done, though. And I'm glad the fabric doesn't bother me, either. I guess it's just people getting all touchy that doesn't feel right."

"That's good," Python replied. "Although quite frankly, I understand being concerned about secrecy, but I don't think anyone's going to mind if you start showing it off more. We've got more oddities around here than you'd expect, you know?"

"Maybe," Skizz answered dubiously. "But hey, right now I'm thinking of making an elytra course out over the ocean. The Legates will love it, I'll be practicing my build magic away from the main settlement, and it'll be a sneaky sneaky little way for me to practice my flying too. Whaddaya think?"

-----

Python frowned. Was someone in his base? He thought he had heard something. Or maybe seen it, out of the corner of his eye.

He followed the movement to one of his towers. Now he definitely heard something moving inside. The tower hadn't been broken into, though... had he forgotten to put a light in that one?

Cautiously, he poked a hole in the sandstone at eye level, half expecting a skeleton's arrow to come shooting back at him from the dark.

Only it wasn't dark. His wall torches were still there, the stairs were gone, and the floor and ceiling were both covered in strange, softly-glowing blue crystal. Standing - floating - in the middle was-

"Skizz?" Python exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Skizz touched down and turned to face him. "Oh, hey Python," he waved. "I needed some space that was tall and closed off and not too wide to test something, I didn't think you'd mind, right? I actually need some help from a non-magic person like yourself right about now, if you'd care to step in here..."

Python hesitated. 

Skizz pouted, mock-offended. “You don’t trust me, do ya?”

Python chuckled at the expression on Skizz’s face. “I don’t trust Vex, dude,” he replied lightly. “Not when they’re working with known pranksters. Who knows what this magic tube is going to do to me, eh?”

Skizz smirked and grabbed Python’s arm. Python sighed and let himself be dragged into the tower.

Skizz tapped his foot twice on the crystal floor. It glowed a little brighter, energy filled the air, and suddenly Python was rapidly rising off the ground. He kicked his feet in surprise and put a hand up to protect his head from the approaching ceiling, but the magic stopped him before he crashed into anything. “Whoa! Dude!!”

Skizz laughed and fluttered up to hover next to Python. “Sweet, it works! Cool, right?”

Python looked around, bobbing gently in place. “I mean, I guess so. Why did you do this to my tower though?”

Skizz shrugged, his wings shrugging with him. “I thought it’d be fun, you know! Maybe later on we could build a bigger one for everyone to use, and you could do elytra tricks and stuff, and I could add some sort of redstone timer thing so I don’t have to be there all the time to start and stop it. It’d be a hit!”

“Whatever you say, dude,” Python agreed. “How do you stop this thing?”

“Oh! Like this.” Skizz dropped down to the ground and tapped the blue crystal again. Suddenly Python was falling, then drifting, then coming to a gentle landing on the floor.

Skizz giggled at the mildly uncomfortable look on Python’s face. “Hey, this is just a prototype, don’t worry. You can even tear it out of here if you don’t want it. I’ll make sure it can pass a safety inspection long before it ever goes public.”

-----

Floating above the ocean, Skizz swept his arm in a dramatic arc. Below him, a semicircle of glass left his inventory and sliced through the water, following the curve of his motion. He touched down on the glass with a grin. This was way better than building out some ridiculous scaffolded structure to work off of. The flight was quite nice, too: not quite as precise as it would be in a Creative setting, but even with the fabric over his wings, it was so much easier to control than an elytra.

That did mean he probably wouldn't be able to test his own elytra course very well. Maybe he'd get Python to try this out too. There wouldn't be any magic involved in the completed course, so it should be fine.

But you COULD add magic, something whispered. Make it even more fun and unique!

Skizz frowned and tapped at his head as if there was water in his ear. Was that just his own inner thoughts making suggestions, or was it someone else? It was getting hard for him to tell, anymore.

Anyway, he wasn't planning on adding any permanently magical elements yet. He went back to moving glass around. 

The full tunnel was built in record time, thanks to his magic. Skizz flopped down on top of it to rest. He felt like he should be tired, but he was using his own magic to keep his energy up and was practically buzzing. It felt like he had drunk too many speed potions (which was totally not something he'd done in the past for the same reasons, nope...). He lay against one of the tunnel's curves, near the water, letting the sea breeze hit him and debating whether he should start telling himself to chill. 

Something else hit him, too. Three somethings, that clanged off the corner of the glass and briefly impaled themselves in Skizz's side, immediately scaring him back to full alertness.

Skizz yelped and rolled away from the edge, indigo blood on the hand he pressed to his side, his magic seething, pushing for retaliation. He looked around wildly and quickly spotted a Drowned, winding up its trident for another shot.

The trident flew. Skizz screwed his eyes shut against it. The trident missed, but a sudden surge of magic sent a spike of pressure through Skizz's head. A terrible, out-of-context screech spurred him to squint his eyes open again in nervous curiosity.

Now there was a ve- a ven?? Skizz scooted further away, heart hammering, but the ven didn't attack him. Of course it wouldn't attack him. Instead, it raised its sword toward the Drowned.

Wait. He was in the middle of an ocean. There was nothing around that could summon the little guys, for him or against him. Nothing except... him?

The Vex hadn't told him about this. Of course, there were a lot of things they hadn't told him yet, and right now he couldn't even consult them for advice because the mask would burn his face. He was just making things up as he went along.

Fortunately, making things up as he went along was one thing Skizz did consider himself pretty good at.

He stared at the ven and Drowned, in a face-off but neither seeming to know whether to attack the other. The Drowned turned its attention back toward him and raised its trident again. Trying to ignore his headache, Skizz focused on the scene, imagining a second ven appearing and both ven defending him from the threat.

His headache got worse. Skizz groaned and pressed his hands against his eyes. But he could definitely hear double screeches now, and the sounds of fighting. He looked up to see two ven making quick work of the Drowned. In moments, it was dead, and they were trying ineffectually to pick up the trident left behind.

"It's alright, little buddies," Skizz cooed, crawling over and grabbing the trident for himself. "I got it! Now, uh, you're dismissed?"

At the command, the ven swooped- toward him? Skizz cried out and scrambled back. But these ven didn't stab chillingly through him like the ones he had fought in the raid that started all this. When one hit his chest, it flowed back into his reserve of magic, energizing him and lessening the dull throbbing in his head. With the second ven, the headache disappeared completely. The voiceless whisper that had been following him for a few days returned to the back of his mind; in the hubbub, Skizz had barely noticed its brief absence.

His side was still wounded, but it was healing quickly. Skizz got to his feet to experimentally spin the trident in his hand. Arcs of magic snapped like lightning between the prongs. Skizz laughed excitedly.

"Ohh," he breathed, "this is gonna be good."

Chapter Text

Skizz sighed, one hand messing with his ear, the other running idly along the side of a villager house as he walked through the moonlight.

A teasing voice floated down from above, followed by a brief laugh. "Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"

Skizz looked up. He was at the bottom of a watchtower. So the figure up on the balcony would be... "Hey,  it’s the Chim Chim Chirroo! Hope I didn’t wake ya, dude!”

“It’s fine,” Chim yawned. “Can’t sleep, huh?”

"Yeah, haven't for a couple days at least."

"Wanna come up here so we don't have to keep yelling?"

"Sure, thanks," Skizz nodded. He took a step toward the ladder, then changed his mind, lifting off the ground and using two well-timed wingbeats to reach the building on top.

"Ohhh, dude!" Chim crowed.  "Man, I wish I could still fly like that."

"'Still?' You had wings?" Skizz wondered. "What happened?"

"Yeah, bee stuff, right?" Chim explained. "It was a huge deal for me back in our old world. Even used that power alongside Lime’s and some redstone magic to help us escape the Withers. But..." He looked dejected, even pained. "I lost my wings in the Rift."

"That sucks, dude," Skizz sympathized. "Like, you used so much magic that they just vanished?"

"No, they..." Chim winced and looked away. "Never mind. I don't really want to talk about it."

"Sorry," Skizz murmured. "You guys... really went through some stuff, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Chim nodded, voice tightening. "I guess we did."

Skizz sat on a chest, letting the silence stretch, even as the whispering background static in his mind rose to fill the gap.

Finally, Chim broke the silence. “Hey, you want some food? I always get really hungry when I’m up late.”

Skizz shook his head. “No thanks, dude, I’m not hungry.” He frowned, suddenly contemplative, but brushed it off after a few moments. “If you need something, though, go for it.”

Chim grabbed a couple of cookies and sat down on his bed. “The first time we talked, it sounded like your patron didn’t want anyone to know about them, right? But this isn’t a very big place, you realize - there are some rumors going around about you.”

“It’s like the worst-kept secret, I’m sure,” Skizz sighed. “Is it Pearl and Logical talking? They’ve both seen me do magic stuff.”

Chim nodded. “Yeah, Logic’s kind of concerned that maybe you got yourself mixed up with the Withers? With you being one of the new guys, and the whole mystery patron thing...”

“No!” Skizz corrected. “Not that I know of at least. No, my source is-” He paused. “Yeah, you know what? They can’t talk to me right now, they can’t tell me what to do! I’m getting magic from the Vex!”

“Vex?” Chim repeated. “As in the annoying little ghost things you get in raids?”

“Kinda?” Skizz explained. “The little guys are like... living globs of magic that sort of look like the actual Vex do, but they’re more like summonable attack dogs. The Vex call the little guys ven. Apparently. I’ve never actually seen a true Vex or whatever you want to call them, that’s just what they told me.”

“Does that mean you can summon ven?” Chim wondered. “Like a human evoker?”

Skizz nodded excitedly. “Yeah, check this out!”

“Uh-” Chim started, but Skizz was already in focus mode. A ball of energy formed above his hand, then resolved into a tiny, ghostly humanoid. It screeched, making Chim flinch.

The ven brandished its sword in Chim's direction. "Ahp!" Skizz commanded. "No no no. You're not here to attack him, you just need to stand - er, float - here and look pretty."

Chim eyed the ven, which was now obediently bobbing gently up and down in place. "They actually understand what you're saying that well?"

"No idea," Skizz admitted. "But they know what I mean, don't ya, little buddy?"

The ven made another screeching noise, leering at both of them.

Skizz winced and pinched at the bridge of his nose. "Alright, that's enough of that," he muttered. "Get back here."

Chim watched in astonishment as the ven drifted toward Skizz and vanished into his body, leaving only a faint, bruise-like blue mark behind. "Dude."

"Sorry, doing that for too long gives me a headache," Skizz told him. "Don't know why exactly. I guess it's a lot of power."

"You really are like an Evoker," Chim marveled. "What about that ground spike bite attack thing they do?"

"You know, I've never actually tried that," Skizz realized. "I'll bet I totally could do it. I've done a single spike before. I don't want to mess up your clubhouse here, though - I'll do some practicing and get back to ya, how's that?"

"It would be my honor to die to Skizz, the Human Evoker," Chim joked. "See you around."

Chapter Text

The static in Skizz's head crescendoed as he took the mask off its stand. Hurriedly, he stuffed it into a shulker box, along with his best armor. He might be away for a while, and he wanted to be prepared for when the Withering shifted again. The shulker box probably wasn't strictly necessary, as all he was taking with him were his tools, one set of armor, and a few building and utility blocks, but it was nice to know he had the extra space. Plus it was an extra layer of inventory away from the mask's current effect on him - which he did hope would resolve soon.

He didn't want anyone knowing where he was going. He didn't want to be followed. But he didn't want the others to worry, either. So he decided on a simple orange sign on the front of his house:

Traveling the world! Be back soon!

Don't touch my stuff!

Just as he was about to lift off, he heard someone calling his name. He turned to greet Python.

"Going somewhere?" Python asked casually, reading the sign.

"I want to learn more about this magic stuff and have a good place to practice," Skizz explained. "I think I know where I'm going, but it's kind of a loner thing, so..."

"Traveling alone?" Python frowned. "Are you sure? You aren't looking too good, I must say."

"What do you mean?" Skizz asked, confused. "I'm just as handsome as ever."

"I hate to say it," Python admitted, "but... you're really not. You look like you got a black eye in a fight and then didn't sleep for-"

"Oh, I haven't slept since I got my wings," Skizz interrupted. It wasn't phrased as a brag or a complaint; just a simple statement of fact.

"You haven't slept this whole time??" Python cried. "It's been... over a week, I'm pretty sure. How are you even still functional?"

Skizz wiggled his fingers at Python. "Magic," he giggled. "Keeps me energized! I'm fine, it's all good, I think!"

"Well, you still don't look fit for travel," Python pointed out. "You've got freaking blue bruises or something all over your face! It's really weird."

Skizz furrowed his brow. "But... I need to go. I had an idea, I need to do the thing."

"You need to tell me what's going on," Python insisted. "Or at least let one of us come with you."

Skizz's eyes flashed. He summoned his blue-iron sword. "Are you gonna try and stop me?"

Python drew his own sword. "I mean, I guess we're doing this..."

"Fight ends when one of us drops his weapon," Skizz declared, voice pitch slowly rising. Sealing the deal. "When I win, you get off my butt and let me do what I'm doing."

Python nodded grimly. "If I win, all I want is for you to stick around long enough to explain yourself, and maybe let us try to convince you to change plans."

Skizz grinned. Python noticed with a start just how sharp Skizz's cheekbones looked through his skin, as if he hadn't been eating either. Or maybe it was the shining blue patches on his face highlighting the lines. "Deal."

With no further warning, Skizz flicked his wings and launched himself at Python. Python just managed to parry, shoving Skizz to one side. Skizz redirected the momentum to shoot into the air, then swooped again with sword raised.

This time, Python noticed a flicker in Skizz's form, a slight translucency, and dodged rather than trying to block the attack. The sword clipped his arm, making him wince, and Skizz's momentum carried him downward to disappear into the ground.

Python glanced around nervously. After a tense moment, he deployed his elytra and rocketed straight up - and just in time, as the dirt and stone morphed into snapping jaws beneath him. When Skizz appeared in front of him, Python fired another rocket, boosting him and his outstretched sword into Skizz's ribcage.

There were layers to Skizz's cry of pain as he was briefly carried along on the sword. He flickered again, slipping away while Python glided down onto the plateau. 

Python turned, watching the sky. If Skizz's faintly shining eyes had been a trick of the light before, they were definitely glowing now, pale, almost white. "You gonna come face me more?" Python taunted.

In one fluid motion, Skizz dismissed his sword, drew his trident, and threw it. Python barely had time to react before it stabbed into his stomach.

Pain exploded through him. Sharp. Electric - all too familiarly so - and cold. Arcs of blue started to crackle across his fur, engulfing him in magic. The trident dislodged itself and snapped back to Skizz.

Python crumpled to the ground. His sword slipped from his hand.

"That's my cue," Skizz gloated. His gaze lingered on Python - curled up, shaking, nearly hidden by magic doing its work - for a moment longer.

With his only interruption now out of the way, Skizz giggled to himself and flew off.

Chapter Text

Logic touched down on the plateau. He was hoping to chat with Skizz about some things, but Skizz wasn't at his elytra course and didn't seem to be responding in chat. Logic figured he must be afk somewhere, in his base or at someone's farm. Hopefully.

A sharp hiss startled Logic out of his thoughts. He scrambled out of range and turned around with his sword out.

The creeper shuffling toward him looked oddly... sad? Of course, creepers nearly always looked sad, but there was something different about this one's expression somehow.

It was also struggling to walk, and Logic quickly realized that its feet were tangled in a pile of black cloth. What could have caused-?

A scene flashed in his memory. A factory in the badlands. A thunderstorm. A creeper in a glass tube...

"No way," Logic murmured.

Python had told Logic, after a bit of time settling in, that what they had done hadn't created something new - a fact that a number of Legates already suspected was true. Instead, Logic's experiment had somehow summoned Python from his previous world of residence. No one really knew how it had happened, least of all Python.

Staring at the creeper in front of him, tangled in the remnants of a black suit, Logic briefly wondered if they had all been wrong.

He quickly realized what a ridiculous line of thought that was. Of course he believed Python, and the alternative was too improbable. Something else must have happened to... revert him? Had Python started his life as an ordinary creeper? Logic wasn't sure. Regardless, something terrible had almost certainly happened to Python, and Logic needed to rescue and protect this creeper.

After a quick message to the others not to disturb him in the settlement for a bit, Logic got to work. He had done this before. Set a trap, lure the creeper in, make sure no one got too close. He chose to lead the creeper into the villager house that had served as his starter base, for now.

It took the better part of the day to lead the scared, yet still aggressive, creeper into place. Logic spent some extra time cleaning up the mess of blocks he'd placed, then as an afterthought, found the scuffed suit (which the creeper had eventually disentangled from in the trek), swooped over the currently-roofless house, and airdropped the suit inside. Just in case.

He landed and sat down, leaning against a corner of the house with a sigh of exhaustion. "What now?" he murmured. "What are we going to do with you, hey?"

A shadow passed over him as someone glided in from across the river. They flipped around and landed next to him. "You good? I was watching that whole process from my tower."

Logic looked up. It was Chim. "Oh, right." He sent out another message saying that he had done what he needed to, and please be cautious around his old starter house.

"I haven't seen you being that thorough about keeping a wild creeper safe since... yeah, ever since you decided to trap a charged one in your factory in the old world," Chim commented lightly. "Looking to try that experiment again?"

To Chim's surprise, Logic sighed and replied, "Possibly, yeah. If we have to." Logic went on to explain how he found this creeper, and why it was so important to keep it alive.

Chim looked at the creeper through the window. It stared forlornly back with its hollow ‘eyes’. "You're sure about this?"

"Mostly," Logic answered nervously. "Python hasn't been answering his communicator, and with the suit being there and everything... I can't imagine that anything else could have happened. I really don't know what to do about him now, though. We don't have enough tridents between us all to recreate the old experiment, and frankly I'm not sure it would work a second time."

"That is something to be sure about, hitting someone with three channeling tridents at the same time," Chim offered sagely. Logic couldn't help but giggle at the exaggerated seriousness in Chim's voice. 

"Yeah, we don't want to just..." Logic trailed off, eyeing the tiny house. “...you know, he can’t be very happy in there. I gave him, what, two blocks of walking space? Chim, would you like to help me do a bit of research on creepers? Best case scenario, we learn of a way to get him back. Worst case, we’ll at least know how to give him a comfortable space to live.”

Chapter Text

It wasn't too unexpected for a creeper to enjoy a nice grassy space. The need for sunlight surprised them, though - Python had never thought to mention that creepers could both eat normal food and photosynthesize. Logic decided to build a glass dome over the little house for now, planning on breaking the house walls when the dome was complete.

He was halfway done, about four meters off the ground, when he heard a block break. Frowning, Logic looked around, but could see no one nearby. He went back to working.

"...Logic? Hello?"

Logic almost fell off the edge. He turned to look towards the little house. Next to it, leaning on the wall for balance but very much upright and humanoid, was Python. He had even put his suit back on, as ragged and dirty as it was.

"Python!" Logic exclaimed. "You're back to normal!"

"That'ss a matter of perssspective," Python said, mostly to himself. He examined the half-built glass structure, then laughed when he realized what it was. "Oh, my word, were you actually making a little greenhouse for me?"

Logic laughed along, a little embarrassed. "Yeah, well... we didn't know how long you'd be stuck like that, and we, uh, wanted to give you a good... creeper-y life in the meantime..."

"That'ssssso sweet," Python replied. "Genuinely, I love it."

Logic hopped down from the dome, letting his enchanted boots take the impact, and trotted over to Python. "How, uh... this may seem a bit of a lame question, but how are you feeling?"

Python considered this. "Confused, mainly," he finally said. "Sssstill have to readjust again." He worked his jaw, making a face. "You can sstill hear it in my voice, for one thing."

He staggered. Logic moved to help, but Python caught himself on the wall. Giving up, he sank into a seated position with his knees up.

"Oh dear," Logic said lightly, but genuinely, sitting beside Python. "You aren't going to have to relearn how to walk, I hope?"

"I don't think sso, but... god," Python groaned, pressing his hands to his head. "I was passst this. I've barely had to think about clashing freaking creeper instincts in years, and now they're all in the front of my brain again. I've been like this-" he gestured broadly at himself - "for so long, I thought it was really my new normal. And maybe it is, I guesssss, but being a regular creeper again felt... well, it didn't feel right. But it felt natural. Like it was still what I was meant to be. Just a ssimple, dumb creeper, hardly a care in the world. I don't..." He looked up at Logic. "I don't want that. Do I?"

"I suppose you probably wouldn't," Logic mused. "Although I do see the appeal of being just another animal, scampering through the land. But you'd miss out on so much of life that way."

"If nothing had ever happened to me in the first place, I'd never know what I was missing," Python sighed. "But you're right, I think. Now that I have been through... what I have, met so many friends, seen so much... I wouldn't trade it away again."

"That's the spirit," Logic smiled. "I know we're all happy to have you back."

Python nodded, then chanced a smile. "You were really nervous around me when you led me in here, weren't you?"

"I was!" Logic confirmed. "Not for my safety, not really, but I certainly didn't want you to... well, you know."

Python's smile grew. "You didn't have to be that scared of me. Even in full instinct mode, I wouldn't have blown up on you. I remembered you. You're part of my pack."

"Good to know, I guess," Logic chuckled. "...Hey, speaking of which - when I found you yesterday, I was originally trying to find Skizz. We were supposed to meet up and chat, but I haven't seen him and he hasn't been responding to messages. Now it's been almost two days... I hope he didn't somehow get into trouble like you did."

"Oh yeah, Skizz said he was going off somewhere," Python recalled. "He wouldn't say where. I tried to stop him, and, well, that's how this all happened. He must have hit me with a Vex spell on his trident- oh. Oh, I think I know where he went."

"I don't like the sound of how you said that," Logic commented. "Where do you think he's gone?"

"He wanted a place to practice his magic," Python explained. "I think Skizz is going to a woodland mansion."

Chapter Text

Skizz landed apprehensively in front of the imposing doorway. He tried to act more confident than he felt as he knocked on the door.

A vindicator opened the door, glaring at Skizz. They brandished their axe in his direction and growled something.

Ah. That was a problem Skizz had not planned for: he didn't know Villager. Or at least, not well enough to understand the illager dialect. The axe spoke volumes though.

Skizz put his hands up in a gesture of nonviolence. "I, uh, I come in peace?" he tried, hoping the illager understood him better than he understood them.

The vindicator paused with a humph. Still glaring.

"I'm uh..." Skizz flared his wings to indicate his magical intent.

The vindicator looked confused, but suspicious. Skizz realized that they probably didn't know what he was showing them because his wings were still disguised with cloth.

"I want to get better at Vex magic," Skizz explained, letting it glow in his eyes. "Take me to your library. Or your evokers. ...Uh, please."

That finally got the vindicator's attention. Reluctantly, they opened the door further and scooted out of the way to let Skizz pass. 

"Thank you," Skizz told them. "Uhhh... which way?"

The vindicator pointed toward a staircase with their axe. Skizz nodded and started upstairs.

It took him some time to find the library in the maze of hallways. An occasional illager stopped him along the way, but news apparently traveled quickly here, and soon he was mostly left alone - though he could feel them watching him warily from a distance.

He was intimidating, he realized. Those guys didn't want to mess with him. They could tell he had the power to beat them all up.

It felt good to be feared.

Disappointingly, many of the books were in languages Skizz wasn't familiar with. He'd have to sort through them and find the ones he could actually read. Maybe when - if - the Withering shifted and he could painlessly wear his mask again, the Vex might be able to help translate for him.

But he found that he wasn't desperate for that shift to happen. He'd be happy when it did, but right now he was safely ensconced in a well-furnished mansion, and it looked like there was at least some reading material he could use. As far as he was concerned, he had all the time in the world.

Chapter Text

Chim was delighted to hear, from Python himself, that the transformation spell had worn off on its own. Python was so amused and pleased by the greenhouse that he offered to help Logic finish it. “It could be like a vacation home!” Python joked. “A vacation a whole, what, hundred blocks away from my actual home?”

But there were other priorities at hand, much more important than an extra glass dome.

“So, a woodland mansion, eh?” Logic prompted, once all three had settled somewhat.

Python nodded. “Can’t think of anywhere else he’d have gone. Gonna be a royal pain to figure out where, though. And obviously I, uh, didn’t see which way he went...”

They walked as they discussed, headed in the general direction of the plateau where Python and Skizz had fought. Their discussion drew the attention of Sausage, who was just stepping out of his vault. “Hey, what’s up?” he greeted. “You look like you’re forming a posse or something. What’s happening with y’all?”

“Well, you might have noticed,” Logic explained, “that your hillside neighbor has been missing for a day or two. We were just trying to figure out the best way to find him.”

“I did notice that Skizz has been awfully quiet lately,” Sausage realized. “I hadn’t had time to get worried yet, though. He’s really missing?”

Python nodded. “I caught him just before he left, but, well, couldn’t stop him. We have reason to believe he’s headed to the nearest unconquered woodland mansion.”

That news gave Sausage pause. “...A mansion?” he repeated, concerned. “On his own? With no armor? What’s he trying to do to himself?”

“Learn magic, if he’s lucky,” Python replied.

"Do you want to join the rescue party?" Logic offered. "Right now it's just the three of us."

"Well..." Sausage winced, unconsciously rubbing at his shoulder blade. "I-I'll think about it, okay?"

"I mean, you don't have to," Logic pointed out. "We can take on a mansion with the three of us, right?"

"Normally I would totally be encouraging," Python replied, "but experiencing what just happened to me from Skizz's magic alone... Three of us is probably fine, but I wouldn't call it a guarantee."

"Do you know when you're leaving yet?" Sausage queried.

“We hadn’t thought that far yet, I don’t think,” Logic said. “We could probably set out this evening, if you all don’t mind traveling at night.”

“I feel like it’d be hard to sleep tonight anyway,” Chim observed. “Too much that’s about to happen.”

“I do kinda want to help out,” Sausage told them, “but I, uh... I’ll let you know before tonight, okay? Don’t put anything off on my account.”

-----

Python strolled across the sand. He hadn't been given much to do, to prepare for their mission, but if there was one thing he needed right now, it was to do something. So, his plan was to poke his head in on the others and see what he could help with.

He figured Chim probably didn't need the help, but he decided to step into the honey factory anyway; maybe he'd grab a few bottles himsel-

He almost tripped over a ring - no, a hexagon - of honey bottles arranged meticulously on the floor. Chim sat cross-legged in the middle, eyes closed, intoning something in a language Python didn't recognize.

Python scooted into a corner, trying not to disrupt... whatever was happening. Chim, barely pausing, glanced briefly at Python, revealing eyes that were glowing solidly golden. In the next moments, the rest of him started giving off the same golden light. 

The light seemed to reach for one of the honey bottles. As soon as it touched, the bottle lit up like a lantern, and the adjacent bottles all lit in rapid succession until they all shone. Python almost had to shield his face from the collective light.

Chim's chant ended. The light vanished from him, and dimmed from the bottles, but did not disappear; the honey still glowed faintly within, as if it had been brewed into potions. The final flecks of gold faded from his eyes as he let out a deep breath and stood up, turning toward Python.

"Dude," Python commented, as Chim started packing the shimmering honey bottles into his inventory. "That was a bit of a spectacle. I'm really sorry if that... wasn't meant to be seen by mortal beings or something."

Chim laughed at that. "Nah, you're fine. Thanks for not interrupting me though."

"I definitely was a little concerned I'd get zapped into honey myself or something," Python joked. "What was that, anyway?"

"Some priests can bless water and get holy water," Chim explained; "I can bless honey and get us some holy honey. I thought it might help to have some extra special healing on our side."

Before Python could reply, an ominous sound rang through the ground.

"Uhh." Chim looked around. "That's not good."

"Wither sounds never are," Python agreed. "I guess we've got some new chaos to deal with."

"Yeah." Chim stepped warily outside, watching for any errant monsters or battle-hungry Legates.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

He started to walk further, back toward the village center. The sun beat hotly down. Had it been this hot when he came to the honey factory? He was practically-

His sleeve was on fire.

Oh god he was on fire. Chim rushed back to the doorway of the honey factory. Python, who had been watching and about to step out himself, was already prepared with a bucket of water to douse the flames.

"It's bad," Chim panted, wincing as his thankfully-minor burns made themselves known. "Ow. Oh geez."

Python opened his chat. Already, warnings were starting to flood in from the other Legates: "Sunlight burns now!", "DON'T GO OUTSIDE", "thought I was done with this -_-" (that one being from a very dissatisfied Zloy).

"So we're allergic to sunlight now, apparently," Python stated, "and we're burning like freaking zombies. How are we supposed to go on a search-and-rescue flight like this??"

Chim looked out a window. "I think if we go that way," he pointed, "we can get to the river before getting hurt. The river goes all the way through... there should be a couple places we can get out."

Their communicators pinged. After reading the message, Python sighed. "Oh, phew. Logic's got himself into the Nether and he's getting a couple boxes full of fire resist potions from the piglins."

"That's a relief," Chim said. "I'll tell him we're still at the honey place." He sighed too. "I've never liked the taste of fire resist potions, have you? This is going to be a, uh, interesting mission."

Chapter Text

                          B̸̛͌w̶͘͠ö̵͠ǒ̷̽gh̶̒͒hhn̸̑͊n̵͇̔n̶̝͐hn̴̑̾n̴̍.

Skizz heard it, too, from deep in the library of the mansion. The signal that a new Withering had begun.

He stood up and set his book back on the shelf. How long had he been here, poring over the few books he could read? He'd lost track of time.

Skizz decided to at least go out onto the roof and see what time of day it was. He stepped out, squinting in the hot sun.

Fire. Fire! Flames - blue flames - suddenly leaped off of him. He gasped and started smacking at them, to no avail. 

When the fire reached his wings, it swept across the fabric like tinder, consuming it in an instant and leaving the crystal wings to shimmer in the light. It was only then that Skizz noticed that the fire didn't seem to be hurting him. Still nervous nonetheless, he darted back inside.

Once he was out of the sun, the fire subsided quickly. Skizz stretched his wings gladly, happy at least about the easy uncover. The false wing covers were no longer necessary, anyway. Then he headed for the chest he had claimed as his own. His armor and the mask were all inside it, waiting for just this moment.

Skizz opened the chest and pulled out the beautifully smooth mask, momentarily noticing a slight translucency to his hand before pressing the cool, porcelain-like surface to his face.

A burst of "noise" screeched in his head, not unlike the feedback from two microphones touching. Skizz grunted in pain and surprise and almost pulled the mask away again, but the burst stopped as suddenly as it started, replaced by a mostly-familiar voice.

  𝕎𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕖!

  Yeah ye have! Skizz confirmed with some enthusiasm. I've been up to some stuff!

𝕀𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕖𝕕! Skizz's body froze, then started walking as the Vex took over and explored. They looked around the library through Skizz's eyes. His wings flicked.

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤, the Vex murmured. 𝕍𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘.

Thank you, Skizz replied. I've been training with them for two weeks now. They came in right after the big magic blast ye gave me.

𝕆𝕗 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖, the Vex commended. Skizz caught a feeling of delight, of their pride in their servant. 𝕐𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞.

Skizz smiled. It was nice to feel that pride, to know that he had done something right. 

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕖𝕗𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕕, 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟.

Obviously, yeah. But it switched and then I tried to go out for some fresh air and suddenly I was on fire??

𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕜𝕪...

Yup. It's freaky. Although come to think of it, it didn't actually do much to-

𝔸 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕚𝕗𝕖, the Vex interrupted.

What? Skizz questioned. What do ye mean? Am I secretly dead or something?

𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪'𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕. 𝔻𝕚𝕕 𝕪𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥? 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕕𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕦𝕡 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞.

Whoa... Skizz thought. Why am I burning too, then? I wasn't there in the old world. I just got sucked into the Rift with them and spat out here!

𝕀𝕥 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕤, the Vex scoffed. 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕒 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕔𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕪. 𝕋𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞, 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕧𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕤.

Well, that... sucks, Skizz grumped. So no one can go outside in the day, basically. But... at least we've got this whole library to ourselves! I was trying to read up on magic, but maybe we could find something about the Witherings, too! Assuming ye can, uh, translate some of these...

𝕎𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕟. Magic pulsed in Skizz's skull. 𝔸𝕟𝕪 𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕨𝕖 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙, 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕪, 𝕨𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕖𝕪𝕖𝕤; 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕒𝕤 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕖 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗.

Sweet.

-----

There weren't many books here on Withers or the mysterious force of their energy. One thin volume discussed the hundreds of souls that make even a single Wither and direct their actions, but had no advice on stopping the advance of a swarm. In fact, there were dire warnings against trying to fight a Withering wave at all, lest they pull the fighter in and make the fighter into one of their own.

On the other hand, there were, of course, plenty of books about the Vex. Some were histories, others instructional. Skizz’s attention was grabbed by one titled "The Inner and Outer Workings Of Vex Magic". He took it over to a nearby bench.

The initial chapters were fairly basic to him: information that the Vex had already told him, or that he’d figured out in the past two weeks. There were a few small tricks he made notes of, but most of it he skimmed. 

Near the end, there was a chapter titled "Synergies". Curiously, he read a little deeper.

Vex magic is a versatile tool and can, either in its raw form or through diamond conduits, often absorb and combine with other magics. In some cases, this synergy allows for stronger and more diverse abilities. In others, the result becomes volatile and dangerous. What follows are the known results of mixing Vex magic with every other common source.

  Lightning: Vex magic is sometimes thought of as a form of lightning to the uninitiated. They are not the same, but the two synergize well with each other to create powerful spells and attacks.

Redstone: Vex magic produces unpredictable and often detrimental effects if a mage attempts to force it through redstone; paired energy burst attacks have been reported, but never confirmed.

Soul magic: Beware of breeding chaos with chaos. Vex mages should not linger in places where the atmosphere is heavy with it, lest the souls attach themselves to your own. The two energies are in many ways very similar, and one may be tempted to take hold of both to amplify and vary their power, but doing so will inevitably corrupt both magic and mage.

 It continued on for a few pages, with paragraphs on enchanting, golemancy, enderic technology, and a few others that Skizz didn't recognize. Chim's bee magic didn't seem to be anywhere on the list - that was apparently too unique, Skizz thought with a chuckle. Not that it mattered much. Skizz was mostly interested in the lightning and redstone sections: the latter a timely warning, and the former an explanation for the high power of Skizz's trident.

He also found a book dedicated to information and care of a mage's wings. Skizz grabbed it, as of course he had not yet had the chance to get anything from the Vex themself about his wings. He started reading the introduction.

A full Vex mage’s wings are a key source and channel of their power. The crystallized magic that forms them is resistant to scratches, chips, and most other minor damage - which is important, as the wings also carry a connection to the mage’s soul. A mage’s wings are not invulnerable, though, and care must be taken to protect them; to shatter or remove a Vex mage’s wing is to shatter their very soul.

The words blurred. A headache was threatening to form. His brain was humming at him - or maybe that was his magic. Was he going to have to get used to his mask again after two weeks of not wearing it? Skizz tried to press his hand to his face, only to be blocked by the mask. He pulled the mask down, put it and the wing book on his bench, and pressed the heels of both hands against his forehead.

Well, it looked like that was all he was going to get done today. He needed a break from the strain of it. He'd look into the wing book further tomorrow. Or maybe tonight - it wasn't like he needed the sleep.

Chapter Text

They set off that night: Python, Logic, Chim, and, after much deliberation, Sausage. He was clearly nervous about it, but he insisted that he couldn't just sit back and leave a buddy to suffer the whims of the vex.

Logic had grabbed a possibly-excessive amount of potions, enough to fill a shulker box for each of them. They also planned on traveling mostly at night, to avoid using up their supply too quickly. There was no way of knowing how long this mission would take.

They could have split up, one person traveling in each cardinal direction. But it was agreed that, when they found the right mansion, they needed to be ready, and that might require all four of them. Besides, it was lonely, searching all alone. They picked the direction of Python's best guess.

When they reached a village, they did drink the first of their potions in preparation to talk to the villagers in the morning. None of the four knew more than a couple words of Villager, but through the language of trade, eventually they were given a map to the nearest woodland mansion. Sausage took the map and led the way.

As they reached the mansion, struggling to read the map in the dark, Logic spotted something. "Oh, no, we’re in the wrong place."

"What? What do you mean?" Sausage replied.

Logic pointed. On a mismatched platform above the mansion, there was a nether portal. "This is the mansion we raided ages ago. If Python is right, Skizz will have gone somewhere that’s still inhabited."

"So basically, we wasted a bunch of time and emeralds for that map," Chim sighed.

"Yeah, unfortunately," Logic replied. "We’ll have to go pretty out of the way from here to find a village that’ll show us a different mansion..."

"We could at least follow the forest," Python suggested. "It’s unlikely, but you never know if it might stretch far enough to have another mansion in it that we could just stumble across. Once the forest ends, we’ll just keep going from there."

"This is so bad," Chim burst out. "We don’t even know if he went this way! He could be literally freaking anywhere in the world and we would never find him. All we have to go on is blind luck and villager maps."

"It is pretty bad," Logic agreed. "But what else can we do? Skizz may not have been part of our group for long, but he is now, and he’s our good friend. We have to just... do what we can. Do whatever we can, and hope we can get him back."

-----

Contrary to Skizz's belief, it wasn't him that the illagers were afraid of. He was just a singular mage, though granted a powerful-looking human one. But no, what the illagers feared was the ire of the Vex who had surely sent him.

They knew nothing about this mysterious mage. He hadn't identified himself immediately, and didn't seem to know their language yet. He also didn't belong - unless he had been sent by the Vex of this mansion, who had been oddly quiet ever since the mage arrived. Vex knew everything that happened in a mansion, so surely if this mage was an intruder, they would know... right?

This was why the illagers hadn't attacked. If Skizz was from their Vex, hurting him would bring down instant wrath - a human mage was a valuable thing, and damaging one would have terrible consequences. If Skizz wasn't from the Vex of the mansion, then they'd need to evict him - but hurting him then would attract anger from his Vex, who would then rightly accuse the illagers of dealing the first blow. He might even be there as a trap, trying to goad them into doing just that. 

So, they were in a standoff. All of them, except for a single vindicator, who was convinced  the mage didn't belong and was determined to take care of the problem.

The vindicator crept into the library one day. This was where the mage always stayed. They searched the aisles one by one, until they saw him: floating just above the ground, book open, back toward the door.

The vindicator smiled. So the mage hadn't learned yet, to never expose his back to the enemy. 

They stepped closer. The mage was enthralled, fully distracted by the book. He didn't seem to notice the danger looming just behind his gently folded wings.

Out. Exposed. The vindicator had read the same book Skizz had. They knew exactly where to aim.

The vindicator raised their axe.

Chapter Text

As he read, Skizz felt a faint extra presence in the room. One of the illagers, of course. He could sense the little bits of magic in each of them. They showed up in the library now and then - it had been theirs, after all, and they still needed it sometimes - but they never bothered Skizz. He paid the presence no mind. 

Then he noticed the illager had gotten a lot closer than most, and was still approaching. Uncomfortably close. Right behind him...

Skizz flared his wings open just in time to feel an axe bury itself between two ribs. He grunted in pain. But a little pain was better than the alternative.

He knew his blood was on the axe now. With a thought, it flared into blue fire, which raced down the handle onto his assailant.

𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖...? his Vex crackled. 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥...

Skizz turned around just in time to see the illager vanish into deathsmoke. "Serves ya right," Skizz gloated. "Stupid jerk."

𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕍𝕖𝕩 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕪, his Vex warned.

Their stupid illager started it! Skizz protested.

𝔼𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕒𝕪, 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕥 𝕒 𝕗𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥.

Skizz nodded, briefly turned fully intangible to let the singed axe fall away, then headed toward the library entrance. I'm not gonna wait for more assassins, then. We're taking this to them.

-----

The next vindicators Skizz encountered were halfway down the hall, engrossed in conversation. They looked up nervously as he approached.

 "ℍ𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕝𝕜𝕤 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕨𝕤?" he called out.

The vindicators glanced at each other.

Skizz crossed his arms. "𝕐𝕖'𝕧𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕒 𝕨𝕒𝕣." 

Soulfire erupted from the floor beneath him. Fire didn't spread under its own power in this world, but at Skizz's command, it flicked across walls and ceiling, engulfing the entire hallway and the illagers inside it.

𝕍𝕖𝕩 𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕤 𝕔𝕒𝕟'𝕥... 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖, his Vex protested, sounding again like their "voice" came through failing speakers. 𝕍𝕖𝕩 𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕔 𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕠𝕝... 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕟𝕖.

Well, I don't know how, but this Vex mage can, Skizz declared, floating onward.

𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝... the Vex repeated. They seemed to struggle to "talk". There was a sense of uncharacteristic distress from them.

Okay, Skizz relented. No more soulfire, alright? But I'm still gonna decimate this mansion. No one's gonna come after us if there's no one here.

The Vex didn’t respond. Only the buzzing in Skizz’s skull reminded him that they were still there.

Well, that was that then, right? Skizz tucked the mask into his inventory to reduce the headache, and continued on.

-----

A familiar screech caught Skizz’s attention. He turned and saw an evoker in the next room, arms in the air, freshly-summoned ven ready to attack.

"𝕆𝕙 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕙?" Skizz taunted. "𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕕𝕠?"

The ven flew at Skizz. But instead of attacking, they just circled him and giggled. One landed - as much as a ven could land, with their wispy tails in place of legs - on his shoulder. Another hovered above his head. Ven weren't intelligent enough to have loyalty to the mage who summoned them; they were drawn to magical power.

"𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕖," Skizz giggled. "𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙! 𝕐𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕥𝕠𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕞𝕖!"

The evoker's ground attack indeed could not touch Skizz, floating in the air. But Skizz's blue crystals could certainly reach the grounded evoker. He made short work of them and moved on.

Skizz swept through the rest of the mansion with similar efficiency. Having forgotten torches, he lit dark corners with soulfire, and soon, the shifting blue flames were the only thing - apart from himself - that moved in the mansion.

He did one more round of every floor, looking for survivors and inspecting his work. There was a fair bit of property damage now. But that could all be patched, if it hadn't been already. It added a unique personal touch, he thought. After all, with no other residents around, this mansion now belonged to him.

Chapter Text

"Okay, I think this is a new one," Logic declared. The others gave a sigh of relief. Logic paid the villager, adding a few extra emeralds for their patience, and the Legates flew off once more, following the new map.

-----

"Whoa."

"Oh, geez."

"No freaking way."

"What the heck happened here??"

The search party all landed in the upper branches of a dark oak tree. Knowing they were getting close, they had chosen to use a few potions and push their search into the day. Looming in front of them was the mansion on the map - but clearly, there had been some kind of skirmish or attack. Most of the windows had been blown out, replaced by creeping blue crystal or simply left as gaping holes in the side of the mansion. Some sections of wall and roof were similarly broken. Through one opening, a hallway was completely impassable, alight with blue fire, and more flames burned in place on the roof.

"That’s..." Python hesitated. "That has to be the place. The crystals are all Vex magic, I think. But... I don’t know, I think something’s really wrong here. It’s a hell of a lot of power that wrecked that mansion."

"Well, let’s find a way down into the shade before our potions run out," Chim suggested, poking around until he found a drop between branches.

"We could make a base camp," Logic suggested, once they had reconvened on ground level. "Nothing too fancy, just our beds in a good patch of shade, maybe an ender chest and our boxes. That way we can stay close even if the situation gets a little dire."

So they did, even building out the canopy above them to give a little more room to move around before having to worry about the sunlight. Of course, they ensured thorough torchlight around the area as well. Finally, they were ready to approach the mansion itself.

The door hung open. The four crowded in front of the doorway, then finally Sausage and Logic stepped inside.

"What’s with all the soulfire?" Sausage whispered. "That’s not... part of this, is it? Did he bring a bunch of soul san-"

He cut himself off with a gasp as motion caught his attention. Both of them froze in horror as they saw who was floating toward them through the wall.

It was Skizz... but he had changed since they had last seen him. His sleeveless suit hung ragged on a bony frame, showing off pale skin with a sickly blue tinge. Glowing white eyes showed no recognition, even as a slightly-too-wide mouth twitched into a smile. Jagged, almost skeletal-looking wings like the veins of dead leaves spread wide behind him. On top of it all, he was translucent, the decorations on the wall visible behind him, and to complete his ghostly transformation, his legs had been replaced with a flowing, spectral trail.

"Oh, geez," Logic murmured.

Sausage’s sword shook in his hands. "S-Skizz?" he called. "What happened to you, man? What... are you?"

"...𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤," Skizz finally snarled. All four Legates jumped at his uncharacteristically raspy voice, simultaneously much too high and much too low.

A dozen or more ven rose in front of them. Sausage’s breath caught in his throat, and he started to shake harder. Logic glanced at him, concerned. "Dude? Are you okay?"

Sausage took a step back, toward the open door. He started to answer, then changed his mind. "Y...No. I-I’m not. We gotta get out of here, man, we can’t fight him like this!"

Logic followed Sausage’s steps. This was all going wrong. None of them expected... none of them could have expected this.

The ven circled around, chittering, feinting at them. Blue spikes started to emerge from the floor. 

Logic put his hand lightly on Sausage’s shoulder. Sausage jumped. "Head for the door," Logic whispered. "I’ll keep them off you."

They bolted, Logic running slightly ahead, heads tucked behind shields, swords swinging. The ven screeched and swooped into the attack. Just as Logic reached the threshold, the ven swarmed in formation, forming a wall between Sausage and the exit. Logic turned around at Sausage’s cry. Before Logic could step back inside, walls of magic shot out of the doorway from every direction, including under his feet, throwing him off balance and sending him sprawling out of the mansion.

Python and Chim were at the doorway in an instant, pounding on the magic that now blocked their entry. But their picks couldn’t break through, and chopping at the wood around only revealed more of the magical shield. On the other side of the wall, there was a single scream of pain and terror. Then, silence.

Logic scrambled to his feet. "Oh, no... Everyone, back to the base camp. We need to get Sausage and... figure out what on earth to do."

-----

Sausage was not immediately visible when they reached camp, and for a worrying moment, they were afraid he hadn't died in the mansion. But Python soon spotted him, still curled up under the blanket on his bed.

"Hello?" Logic tried. "Sausage? Are... well, you already said you weren't alright. But you're back at the base camp now! You're safe here."

Sausage looked up at the other Legates, blanket still wrapped around him as he sat up. He squeezed his arms around himself, as if making sure that he was real, then started rubbing at a spot behind one shoulder.

"Rough respawn?" Logic asked lightly, but sympathetically.

"No," Sausage winced. "Just an old wound and a bad memory. From a 'spawnless world."

Despite the protections afforded to worldhopping Players, certain worlds were still harsh places to be. Deaths in worlds without their blanketing respawn magic were not meant to be survived; Players that did were often left with lasting injury and an unpleasant experience as they were transferred to another plane of existence, and then another world. Sausage had both of these, and after some hesitance, he pulled at the neckline of his shirt to display a pale blue scar stretching across his back.

"It was my first time in a world like that," he explained, letting his shirt fall back into place. "I never was comfortable around vex to begin with, so dying to them there... and then, after the whole experience of ‘spawnless dying, I was just a spectating spirit for a while, and with what had just killed me, I thought-'' His voice choked a little, and he looked away, embarrassed. "Man... I didn't want y'all to see me like this."

"Being scared of Vex mansions is nothing to be ashamed of, dude," Chim reassured him. "Especially with... man, what even happened in there?"

Sausage shrugged forlornly. "I just wanted to help, man. Face my fears, help out Skizz, maybe get a little revenge. But as soon as they showed up... as soon as he showed up, looking like one of them... I just froze."

"Skizz did look sort of like a vex, didn't he?" Logic agreed. "But... that wasn't the only thing wrong with that picture, was it?"

"No heat-color," Python suggested. At the confused looks, he explained: "It's how creepers hunt, mostly, tracking heat. Of course, I can see human colors, but there's still that over everything too. Skizz was just... air. The only other people I’ve seen like that... one was never human, and the others are zombies."

"Yeah, he didn't look... healthy," Chim pointed out. "Did you guys see how thin he was? Like he hasn't eaten for like two weeks."

"He probably still hasn't slept in that time, either," Python guessed.

"Yeah... he's really withe-'' Chim cut himself off with a wide-eyed glance at the others. All at once, they realized the implication of what he had been about to say.

Finally, Logic broke the silence, completing Chim's sentence. "...Withered away."

Chapter Text

They spent the rest of the day at their makeshift camp, defending it from stray zombies and worrying about what to do. 

"So we know the Withering energy is kind of sentient," Chim said, "but how could it completely take him over like that?"

"And why just him?" Sausage added. "We've all been feeling it."

"Maybe it's affecting him differently because he wasn't with us in the old world," Logic speculated. "I mean, none of us really know how it works, but it could be a background radiation type thing from our Wither farm, and then of course there was the blast itself, in the arena... We may have acclimated to the Withering energy a bit compared to him."

"A lot of what we saw was from the Vex, too," Python pointed out. "Not that it's not new-guy syndrome like you're suggesting, Logic, but if it is, it's new-guy syndrome tacked on to Vex problems."

Logic nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. That would also explain why the others that we picked up in the Rift haven't had anything too drastic happen to them. Although I guess once this is all taken care of, we should check up on them as well, and make sure that they're doing alright."

Finally, as the sun went down, Chim stood up, and started shoving the contents of his inventory into their ender chest.

"Chim?" Sausage asked warily. "What are you up to?"

"Look." Chim held up a shimmering honey bottle. "I brought these along for a reason, right? Just in case we needed them. Even I don't know what all it can do, but you know what? We don't know what's happening to Skizz either. Maybe the power of the holy honey can help."

"We can't get in, though," Python said. "And we all saw what would happen even if we could."

"Don't have to," Chim explained. "He's gotta be watching the entrance, right? I'll just knock on the door and tell him I have a gift for him. I won't be lying. I'll give him a couple, and see what happens."

"Hello?" Chim called out at the door of the mansion. It was still covered in a wall of blue, so he couldn't have entered even if he wanted to. But that wasn't what he was here for. "Skizz? I have something for you."

A few moments passed. A single ven popped through the wall. Chim tensed as it circled his head once, then flew back inside.

Eventually, Skizz floated out. Chim tried very hard not to react in horror. Up close, it was even more clear that something was very wrong. The hollow, glowing eyes, the tight cheekbones, the weirdness with his mouth...

"𝕐𝕖'𝕣𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜."

Chim jumped. He had already forgotten about Skizz's voice. "Hi," he tried. "Yeah, I'm... back. I wanted to, uh, apologize for us trespassing before. We've just been worried about you, man. We wanted to see if you were... okay."

"𝕆𝕜𝕒𝕪?" Skizz giggled, high and manic. "𝕎𝕖'𝕧𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕤! 𝕎𝕖'𝕣𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥!"

“If... you say so, man.” Chim offered up one of the honey bottles he was carrying. “Anyway, I wanted to give you... a little bit of a, uh, housewarming gift?”

Skizz took the bottle cautiously, uncorked it for a closer look, then laughed with delight again. “𝕆𝕠𝕠𝕙! 𝕆𝕙, 𝕪𝕖 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕥. 𝕎𝕖'𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕜𝕤, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕨𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕞𝕖. 𝕀𝕥'𝕤 '𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕙𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟' 𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕀 𝕕𝕦𝕟𝕟𝕠. 𝔸𝕨𝕖𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖.”

He tipped the bottle back and started drinking. After only a moment, though, he suddenly cried out, dropping the bottle and doubling over to clutch at his stomach. Chim stepped back in surprise.

“𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕚𝕕 𝕪𝕖 𝕕𝕠 𝕥𝕠 𝕦𝕤??” Skizz yelled.

“I-I don't know!” Chim stammered. “It’s- it must be from the holy honey, but I didn’t think it would hurt you, oh my gosh I’m so sorry-”

Skizz sank closer to the ground, his ghostly lower half bending to make it look like he was kneeling. The glow in his eyes flickered. The cobbles shifted ominously under Chim’s feet. “𝕀𝕥’𝕤 𝕓𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘! 𝕐𝕖'𝕧𝕖 𝕡𝕠𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕦𝕤, 𝕪𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕛𝕖𝕣𝕜!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Chim cried. “I was trying to help!”

Skizz screamed again. The cobblestones erupted around Chim, the ground stretching into a pair of jaw-like spikes, twice the size of any that a normal evoker could manage. There was nowhere he could go.

The jaws snapped shut.

-----

Chim jolted awake in his bed at the base camp, his breathing rough as the leftover adrenaline and phantom pain dissipated.

"That... didn't sound like it went well," Logic commented.

Chim sat up and shook his head. "No, it didn't. I... I don't know what happened. I didn't exactly expect the honey to have a guaranteed chance of doing good, but this was just... wrong. Everything about this situation is wrong."

"Hang on a minute," Python realized. "Would the holy honey be considered a healing item, by chance?"

Chim frowned. "Maybe? It certainly didn't give Skizz any healing."

"That's the thing, though," Python explained. "If we assume that Skizz has become an undead minion of the Withers and/or Vex - and as much as I hate to say it, I think that's a pretty fair assumption to make - then maybe he's now affected by the healing/harming switcheroo. So, healing items like the honey would end up hurting him instead."

"Maybe." It was a good theory, but Chim wasn't quite convinced. Yes, instant healing and harming effects were reversed on the undead, but that wasn't the case for anything with a more gradual or specific effect. There was some similar connection, though, niggling at the back of his mind. A missing puzzle piece that he just couldn't quite find.

"Dudes... he's still there," Logic commented. "He's just... lying on the threshold. He's not gone back in yet."

"Geez," Chim murmured. "I hope he's not still hurting or something."

"I wish we could help him," Logic sighed. "Or at least talk. But after all the, uh, perceived slights against him today, he'd probably kill any one of us on sight."

"Yeah." Chim lay back down on his bed. "It's been a major day, guys. Let's all try and sleep, and maybe one of us will have dreamed up a plan by morning."

Chapter Text

Sausage was last on watch that night. They had torchlit a significant area, not much was coming near, and he was starting to doze off.

"...𝔾𝕦𝕪𝕤?"

Sausage yelped, scrambling to his feet and grasping for his sword. He whipped around and pointed it at Skizz, who had just appeared seemingly out of thin air at the edge of their camp.

Skizz took a step backward and threw his hands up in surrender. "𝕎𝕙𝕠𝕒 𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕨𝕙𝕠𝕒, 𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕥-" He coughed a few times. "But I-"

A harsh, wracking coughing fit consumed the rest of his sentence. He dropped to his hands and knees as the other three Legates, thoroughly awoken by the commotion, rushed over.

"Skizz! Oh, gosh." Logic put a soothing hand on Skizz's shoulder. His hand sank disconcertingly into Skizz a little bit, but at least he could touch him.

Finally, the coughing subsided. "I..." Skizz rasped, not looking up for a long moment. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have much to apologize for," Python insisted. "You haven't exactly been in control these past few days."

"Maybe I wasn't," Skizz admitted, "but it sometimes feels like I was! And I - we - I've been such a jerk to all of you!"

"You say you felt in control," Logic noticed, "but you also said 'we' just then. That doesn't sound like you were completely responsible, does it?"

"Yeah, the 𝕍𝕖𝕩," Skizz said, almost coughing on his words again. "I think they might be going a little insane. Which, considering they've been sharing my brain, I can't say I particularly appreciate."

"I wonder if that's related to the Wither-y stuff," Chim pondered. "Python was telling us all about what is and isn't normal about what's happened."

Logic helped Skizz shakily stand. "Hey, would you look at that!" Logic realized. "You're standing on your own two feet again."

Sure enough, gone was the ghostly trail they had last seen Skizz with. He stood firmly on the ground, as much as he could be firm when he was still a little bit see-through. His wings stretched wide for extra balance. He looked down at himself with eyes that weren't glowing nearly as brightly, as inhumanly, but that still shone in the darkness.

"God, I look like a wreck, don't I?" Skizz mumbled, taking in his tattered clothes, his bony body, the faint blue tinge still present in his skin.

"Well, you look a lot better than you did," Chim reassured him. "How, uh... How did you recover even this much, though?"

"I think it's thanks to you, dude!" Skizz exclaimed. "You and your crazy magic honey."

"Holy honey," Chim corrected automatically. "It looked like all it did was cause you a lot of pain, though. How...?"

"Oh, it hurt like hell, dude," Skizz confirmed. "Like my whole body was on fire from inside. I couldn't even think through it. I'm still even feeling it a little. But you know? Once that first wave had died down, my head was so much clearer than it's been in, like, the last month. I think there's still Vex stuff happening, but your stuff just burned out a bunch of the extra junk that was up there with it." He giggled. "So yeah, I guess thanks for the portable exorcism in a jar, Mr. Bee Priest Chimney."

“Portable- oh my gosh, of course!” Chim put his hand to his head. “That actually makes sense.”

Skizz frowned. “It does?”

“Python thought maybe it affected you like that because it was like how harming and healing potions switch effects on undead,” Chim explained. "But it was actually because it was a holy item. Like a sword enchanted with Smite."

"Wait, so I have actually technically been dead too?" Skizz exclaimed. "I had no-"

The surprised motion he made turned him, swinging his wing toward Logic. Logic instinctively put his hand up to stop it from smacking him.

The instant the two touched, a shiver ran across Skizz's body. He whirled around, eyes suddenly blazing with light again, prepared to summon his trident or a spell. All four Legates flinched away.

Skizz squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands to his head. He took a deep breath, then opened them again. His eyes were back to their quiet blue shine. "𝕊𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪!" he panted. "Sorry. That was just... rrrgh!” He ran his hands through his hair. “I think it’s getting to me again. This is so frustrating! I don't want to hurt you guys any more, but then suddenly something just happens and I'm on edge again!"

“But you didn’t attack us this time,” Logic pointed out. “You stopped yourself. That’s progress!”

“I kinda hate to suggest it,” Chim offered, “but you did only drink, like, half of one bottle of the holy honey. Maybe... more of it would help you get back to normal?”

“Honestly? I don’t hate the idea,” Skizz sighed. “It’ll suck, but at least then I hopefully won’t be constantly on the brink of insanity. Not that I wasn’t before,” he added, catching the teasing expression on Logic’s face, “but I need to get back to my usual insanity.”

Skizz reached into his inventory, looking for the honey bottle he had taken off Chim after killing him, but the other items in his inventory distracted him. “Oh! By the way.” He pulled out a netherite axe. “Mythical, I actually picked up all your-”

He stopped. Sausage had backed away, once more pointing his shaking sword. He looked like he was again on the edge of panic.

“Oh, geez.” Skizz put the axe away. “I didn’t- uh, can I use one of the chests here? I have all your stuff that you dropped back there, I’ve just been carrying it around... Please stop pointing your sword at me like that, I- you’re scared of me,” he realized. “Oh man, you’re actually frightened of the Skizz, that’s... I don’t want you to be scared of me, dude!”

While Skizz apologized furiously, Logic went over to Sausage. With a gentle touch, he pried the sword out of Sausage’s hand. Sausage took a deep breath. “I’m... I’m sorry, I don’t really know what’s happening and I don’t think I can deal with this right now.”

“That’s fine,” Logic whispered. “We’ll handle whatever happens. You go sit down, or lie down, or whatever you need.”

“Is he okay?” Skizz asked worriedly when Logic rejoined the group.

“He had a bad experience with Vex a while ago,” Logic explained. “I think he came along to sort of prove himself, but... well, we didn’t exactly expect the encounter we got, did we?”

"Man, now I feel even worse," Skizz moped. "It's all my fault that you even had to hunt me down. I should've never picked up that stupid mask."

“Picking up the mask did not do all this,” Python assured him, gesturing at the scene in general. “You were being used by the Vex AND the Withers at the same time. The Vex aren’t usually that bad.”

“And the Withers are definitely not your fault.” Chim sighed. “They’re ours.”

There was a moment of somber silence. Finally, Python spoke. “We were originally planning to go back home through the Nether once we’d found you. Do you think you’d be up for that?”

Skizz thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I’m willing to give it a shot. You guys thought of everything, didn’t you?”

Python nodded. “Right then, I’ll get that set up real quick.”

Skizz turned to the others. “Hey, any of you got some normal food to spare? I’m just noticing that I’m actually hungry again and I brought nothing with me.”

They broke into relieved smiles. Logic handed him a few golden carrots. Maybe Skizz really was on the road to normalcy again.

They spent some time recollecting items: Sausage regeared up, and Skizz made a quick trip back to his library to grab the shulker box with the meager possessions he'd brought and the two books about Vex magic and wings. Then, with everything packed and gathered, the five Legates left the camp behind and entered the Nether.

Chapter Text

Their first encounter with the Nether landscape was in a small, jagged pit of basalt with a lava pool in the middle.

"Basalt delta. Annoying, but alright," Python commented. "You still doing good, dude?"

"I'm alright, yeah." Skizz gave Python a thumbs-up. "Can't complain about heading home." He took a fleeting glance back at their portal as he said 'home'.

"It looks like we head that way," Logic pointed through a gap that opened east and slightly north, "and then turn south a bit."

A large magma cube suddenly appeared over a wall of basalt, landing about twenty meters away and turning toward them.

"And I think we go that way now!" Skizz yelled.

They took off and flew in rough formation, weaving between basalt pillars, four of them surrounding Skizz in the middle. Soon, the landscape opened out onto a smooth expanse of soul sand, bordering a lava lake. A bastion sat across the lake from them, though no one felt like raiding anything at the moment.

When they passed over the soul sand, Skizz's flight faltered.

Python ducked under the slowing Skizz, reaching up to grab him on flyby. “Oh no. Not so good?”

Skizz squirmed weakly in Python’s hold, but made no attempt to phase away. He looked around with fear in his glowing blue eyes. “It’s... it’s coming back, dudes,” he whispered.

“We’ll keep you safe.”

“Is it the biome?” Logic wondered. “We can go north a bit more to get out of it...”

Skizz nodded, anxiety rising as his frantic breathing and heart started to slow nearly to a stop. He pointed at a blue flame flickering below. “Too m𝕦𝕔𝕙... 𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕤... 𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕨𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕖.”

Python banked north. The others followed. “Right. Leaving the soul sand valley then,” he said with forced calm.

A few meters into the netherrack waste, Skizz finally slipped out of Python's grip and stopped, hovering slightly above the ground. The four Legates landed around him cautiously.

"He's ghosting again," Chim observed, pointing at where Skizz's feet should be.

Skizz stared at Chim for a long moment. Then Skizz shook his head, as if trying to shake out the extra whispers, and pulled an extra glowing honey bottle from his inventory.

"You really did hoard all the stuff we dropped," Sausage commented.

"Skizz..." Chim warned.

" 𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨." Skizz lifted the bottle, hesitated, then took a tiny sip. He tensed up for a few seconds, grimacing, then looked around again. He barely looked different from moments prior, but despite the solid glow of his eyes, he looked more alert and focused than before.

No one spoke. They just stared warily at him.

Finally, Chim broke the uneasy silence. "...That bad, huh?"

Skizz giggled at the exaggerated understatement, then grew serious again. "𝕀 𝕕𝕠 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟, 𝕕𝕦𝕕𝕖. 𝔻𝕠𝕖𝕤𝕟'𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝕀 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕦𝕣𝕖." He turned the bottle in his hands. "𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕝𝕪, 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕓𝕚𝕥 𝕒𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕪 𝕚𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕓𝕒𝕕. 𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕤𝕖."

"Should we, um, still be cautious around you?" Logic asked tentatively.

Skizz considered this for a moment before answering reluctantly: "ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕪." He took a deep breath to psych himself up, then took another drink. "𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕀'𝕞 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕒𝕗𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕒ng around, you feel me?" he said tightly, dual voices fading back into one mid-sentence. "Maybe by the time we get back home-" He found himself one again glancing in the direction of the portal they had just left. "-once I get back to my REAL home, with all of you guys. Maybe by then I'll be alright and ready to rock and roll and be me again."

-----

 The trip home was long and harrowing. Traveling through the Nether was never exactly peaceful, of course. But this time they were also carefully dodging every soul sand valley they came across - and they just seemed to keep finding them. Every few minutes, they would stop and land, automatically forming a circle around Skizz while he was distracted by the discomfort of more holy honey. Every time, he looked a little calmer, more solid, more human.

Finally, the landscape opened up into a tall space with a familiar sight floating on the lava ocean below.

"Man," Skizz commented enthusiastically. "You have no idea how happy I am to see this crummy portal again."

The others laughed, and Skizz laughed with them.

"It could use a bit of tidying up, I suppose, yeah," Logic chuckled as they landed on the bare netherrack platform.

"Oh, watch out," Chim warned, drawing his sword in the direction of an approaching hoglin.

Before it could reach the platform, a wall of blue shot up from the narrow bridge in front of the hoglin, completely blocking its passage.

Skizz made a show of dusting off his hands, a temporary blue glow quickly fading from his eyes and skin. "It's not like we needed that bridge," he pointed out, "since we all have wings of some form or another. Still could use some kind of building here, though..." he mused.

"Vex magic is meant to be all about creation and the like," Python pointed out. "You can still use it to help you build, right?"

"Well, maybe I'll just do that then," Skizz declared.

Logic approached the portal first. "It's a little counterintuitive, but I think the Withering energy will actually be stronger in the Overworld, especially since we're arriving at a populated area," he warned. "You've recovered remarkably well, Skizz, but still, be a little prepared when you go through, yeah?"

"Aye aye, Captain Logical!" Skizz gave him a sharp salute.

Logic smiled and stepped in. "Great. See you in a bit, then."

Chapter Text

Now that he knew what to expect, he could feel it as soon as he left the portal. A pall hung in the air, almost whispering but never saying a word. It wasn't enough yet to pull him away again, but now he could tell a little better how it had happened the first time.

"Careful," Logic warned, still standing near the portal. "It's daylight now."

"Yeah... we're all undead down here," Skizz murmured, then giggled at his own joke.

"Come again?"

"Don't worry about it," Skizz dismissed. "Hey, I wonder if I'm still fireproof."

"You're- okay, I suppose that makes sense," Logic decided. "The, um, honey treatment didn't completely take care of things, then, did it?"

"Don't think so," Skizz replied. "I'm still feeling about five types of wonky. But it's still way better than the fifteen I had going earlier."

"You're amazingly... calm about all this, already," Logic observed. "We haven’t asked this since we left the mansion, but... are you okay?”

“Being perfectly honest with ya here,” Skizz said, “I’m scared. Whatever happened to me, I never want it to happen again. We can keep me from getting too far gone, but we can’t keep it from happening entirely because the withering energy is always around. If I think too hard about it, it’ll just overwhelm me and I’ll end up in a scared little ball in the corner, you know?”

By this time, the others had exited the portal as well. Python put a hand on Skizz’s shoulder. “As long as you don’t run off again because you think you’ll learn more that way, or that you’re a danger or something, we’re all good, eh? And if you really need to, I think we’re getting close to getting off-world communication working again, right, Logic?”

Logic nodded. “Yeah, hopefully that’ll finally be coming back online pretty soon.”

“So if you really need to get away, or need some outside help, let us know, okay?” Python continued.

Skizz took a deep, slightly shaky breath and smiled. “Yeah. Will do.”

-----

Skizz flopped onto his bed with a heavy sigh. Home. This was home. Not a giant mansion with two dozen unused rooms and no neighbors. Just a tiny hole in the wall with a bed, half a dozen disorganized chests, and friends in every direction.

After a few seconds of pure relaxing, Skizz fished his Vex mask out of his inventory. He sat up and contemplated it, turning it over and over in his hands, noticing crack-like black lines that he was pretty sure weren’t there before. He put it on its armor stand. “You,” he accused.

The Vex did not respond. Ever since the Withering of Defense first severed their connection, they didn’t seem to be able to talk to Skizz anymore without him putting the mask on his actual face - which Skizz wasn’t keen on doing right now.

“Some trophy you turned out to be,” Skizz scoffed. “Lucky for both of us that my friends were totally willing to fight me and let me kill them just to lure me back like a feral animal.”

He looked down at his hands, willing his magic to manifest. He watched and moved the blue swirls and sparks at his fingertips. “In the beginning, you said to me, ‘Once a Vex, always a Vex’. I think that means I have this magic forever, right? Which is really cool and all, but I guess I also have to deal with always soaking up withering energy like a sponge.” Skizz summoned a ven on his palm, watching it float aimlessly around the room. “I guess it was probably worth it.”

Something in him still wanted the mask, still needed to take it off the stand and put it on. To get an answer to his questions, to feel that extra power, to serve the Vex. He glared defiantly at the mask. “You’re doing this to me, aren’t you? You can still get to me even when I’m not even touching the stupid mask. It’s creepy, you know that? You’re just a creepy little ghost who likes to possess people and make them hurt their friends. I’m not about that, you hear?”

The Vex gave no indication that they heard.

“Well, I don’t need you anymore,” Skizz declared. “I could do magic just fine without you for two weeks, and look where coming back to you got me. Nowhere, that’s where. You’re trying to get me to wear that mask again, but it’s still going to hurt me because that’s just how this world will always work. I’m never going to give control to you ever again.”

Skizz dropped back onto his bed with another sigh. “I’m done with not being in control of myself,” he murmured. “At least I can - hopefully - just quit you cold turkey, and keep the cool wizardry anyway. Even cooler, with the soul magic fusion fun. But also not cool, because of the soul magic fusion fun.”

He rolled onto his side and pulled a blanket over himself. He was so tired. “But I’ll handle it,” he yawned, “with Chim Chim’s help, and the other Legates too. It’s not my secret anymore.”

Skizz took one last look at the glowing blue and black and white mask. Grinning at him. Staring him down. It had been corrupted, just like he had. “I guess you didn’t know as much about the Withers as you thought you did, huh?”

He watched the mask for a long moment. It watched him back. Finally, he shuddered, grabbed the mask again, and buried it at the bottom of the closest chest. “Don’t look at me like that.” Then, he rolled back over, and almost immediately fell asleep.

Chapter Text

For a few days, Skizz's home felt cozy. But soon, it did start to feel a little cramped. It was a very small home.

He wasn't planning on going out and building a megabase or anything like that. But he did kind of want a bit more space to move. So, Skizz started packing once more - this time, packing a lot more supplies for a lot less distance. He already had some building materials out at his elytra course; he would just live there for a while as he worked on it. The first station was still well within sight of both the mainland and Logic's floating city. Not far away at all.

"What the-" Skizz picked up a pickaxe from where it had been sitting in a box. He read the name carved into the handle. It belonged to Sausage. "I must have forgotten to give this back to him before."

He glanced at the west wall of the little cave. Moving beyond it, barely visible, he could see a name written in light.

Excellent. That meant Sausage was home. Skizz decided to take a shortcut.

Movement down one hallway caught Sausage's eye. What...? What could even be down there, he’d lit that hall-

His breath caught. Blue and white and sharp wings and it was coming through the wall and swooping straight at him-

Skizz stopped immediately when he saw the panic on Sausage's face. "Oh, crap, dude, I totally forgot, I'm so sorry!" He backtracked toward the wall he had come in.

"Oh, it's you." Sausage forced a wavery smile. "You don't have to leave, now that I know it's you it's fine..."

"No, I gotta do this properly," Skizz insisted. "I shouldn't just barge into people's homes through the walls, especially yours. I'll be right back." With that, he disappeared back through the wall. Sausage took a minute to calm his racing heart.

There was a knock at the door.

Frowning in confusion, Sausage went to answer it. There, standing on his doorstep, was Skizz, wings tucked back, looking as normal and human as he could manage (barring the soulfire-blue streaks that now permanently marked his arms and face). "Hey, Mythical!" he greeted. "I just found something of yours that I need to return."

"Okay?" Sausage gave him a bemused smile. "Come on in."

Skizz obliged, stepping over the threshold and holding out the pickaxe. "I found this in my stuff. It must have just not gotten back to you after, uh."

"Oh, dude, I was wondering what happened to that, thanks man!" Sausage exclaimed. "I figured it was lost forever back at your mansion."

Skizz winced. "You don't have to call it 'my' mansion, dude, it's not like I ever really wanted the place."

"I don't know, you could probably fix it up pretty nice if you want..."

"Well, I don't want," Skizz retorted. "I don't want to live a billion miles away from everyone else! Now that I'm not a crazed wither-y vex-y psycho, I do actually enjoy all of your company, believe it or not. Besides, you're the one who could pretty up a broken mansion, homie, not me."

"Didn't you say you had some kind of build-assist on your magic?"

"Yeah, it's amazing for the grunt work!" Skizz replied. "But I can't fake the skill like you have. I still suck at designing builds."

"Aw, thanks man," Sausage grinned.

"You're trying hard to get used to me being like this, aren't you?" Skizz noticed. "Casually talking about my magic and stuff. That or you're trying to get rid of me," he joked, "so you don't have to see me anymore."

"What? No!" Sausage protested. "I mean... I don't want you to leave, Skizz. I don't think any of us want that. But I am trying to get used to you a little, yeah."

Skizz tucked his wings tighter behind his back, and Sausage must have noticed the motion. "You don't have to do that," Sausage insisted. "I know you've got the wings, don't make yourself uncomfortable on my account."

Skizz relaxed a bit, letting his wings sit slightly to his sides. Then he tentatively spread them farther and smiled. "Hey, I'll bet you've never had the chance to really see these babies up close. You think that'd help, getting a firsthand opportunity to admire them?"

Sausage couldn't help but laugh at Skizz's enthusiasm. "Being near them isn't freaking me out yet, dude, let's see 'em!"

Skizz proudly spread his wings as wide as they would go, wide enough to have brushed the walls of the hallway he had originally entered. They weren't very flexible or broad like ordinary wings would have been, but they were an impressive sight nonetheless.

"Whoa." Sausage stepped closer. "They look almost like they're made of diamond or something... what are they?"

Sausage unthinkingly reached one hand toward a wing. Skizz jerked away. "Ahp! Don't- actually," he amended, noting how Sausage had immediately frozen in place. "You know what? I'm gonna do something crazy here."

Sausage gave him a wary look, still not moving.

"Don't expect me to make a habit of this," Skizz clarified, "because I'm not gonna. But... just this once, you can touch the wings."

"Wait..." Sausage hesitated. "Really? Isn't that what you kind of went off on Logic for before?"

"That was when I was crazed and confused," Skizz explained. "But this time, I'm cool, I'm collected, and I'm giving you express permission. I trust you not to do anything weird, and you can trust me not to do anything weird."

"Oh! Wow, okay..." Sausage reached gently toward the outstretched wing again. As soon as he touched it, Skizz visibly tensed up and closed his eyes. Noticing this, Sausage lingered for only a few moments, trying to take in as much as he could about the encounter as quickly as possible, then pulled away.

Skizz let out a breath that neither had realized he was holding. He brought the wing forward more and half-consciously started to rub at the spot Sausage had touched, in a motion that almost looked like preening. His usual smile was back in an instant. "Well?"

"Those are so wild, man," Sausage commented. "They actually are some kind of crystal?"

Skizz nodded. "Pure, crystallized magic, dude. They're weird, but still pretty cool, right?"

"Yeah..." Sausage murmured. "I'm actually kind of jealous, man. I almost want real wings of my own, now. Although probably not that kind, to be fair."

"Huh," Skizz realized. "You know, when I get a better handle on the transform-y magic I used on Python... if you're ever interested, maybe we can work something out!"

"You really are that confident, aren't you?" Sausage said.

"Absolutely!" Skizz exclaimed. "I won't be intentionally using magic on people for a long while, though."

"And frankly, I don't want you to for a while," Sausage added. "But hey, man, you have fun using it for your flight course! Make sure us normal folk can still play it when you're done."

Skizz laughed. "I'll try my best! Later, dude."

-----

They set up weekly appointments with Chim, but those meetings soon turned into friendly chats rather than matters of business. Now that Skizz wasn't trying to force any more soul magic out of his system - there seemed to be a minimum he just couldn't shake, which was low enough to give more benefit than problems anyway - he found he didn't need to deal with the painful effect of holy honey very often at all. In the two weeks during which the Withers rotted away every scrap of food except the hardy chorus plants, Skizz got by on no honey treatment at all, catching up in the days afterward without too much issue.

It was wonderfully freeing to not have to listen to what the Vex had to say. They still tried to reach him; every so often he found himself with a faint urge to go dig the mask out of its chest once more. But every time they tried, it only steeled his resolve to keep them locked away forever. He didn't need it! And they should know as well as he did by now that teaming up like before would only cause more problems, and probably drive that Vex further into madness. If they didn't see that... well, they must be crazy.

Chapter Text

A few weeks later, Logic was mining in the Nether, pickaxe methodically carving through netherrack, mind replaying and overthinking the events of the last few days, when something fell on his head.

Logic squawked ungracefully and scrambled away, letting the object - person! - flop onto the ground. The spiked wings, the blue markings on arms exposed by torn-off sleeves left no question about who had just been found.

"Wha- Skizz!" Logic cried, dropping into a crouch to see him better. "Oh my gosh, I found you!"

Skizz stirred, looking blearily up at him with eyes that shone not-so-faintly blue in the dark tunnel. "Uhh... Logic? What... happened? Where am I??"

"You're in my mining tunnel, somehow," Logic explained. "As for what happened to you, I was sort of hoping you could tell me. You've been out of touch for over two weeks!"

Skizz managed a sardonic smile. "Two days and you send out a search party, two weeks and you just let me be?" he joked. "Or could you just genuinely not find me in here?"

"We have been a bit preoccupied," Logic admitted. "What with the Withers possessing people again and causing destruction."

"Oh, no," Skizz groaned, sitting up. "Was I one of them? Is that why I don't remember being gone?"

"You were not," Logic told him, helping him stand. "At least, not as far as we know. I suspect there's been a bit of buildup and release of withering energy lately, though, and your... condition started picking that up?"

Skizz thought about this for a bit. "Yeah, that makes sense," he decided. "The last thing I remember was that ominous countdown on our communicators, and I was definitely starting to feel weird. What was that counting down to, anyway?"

"We... technically, sort of, stopped it," Logic explained, "so we never really found out, I don't think."

"You sound real unsure about that," Skizz chuckled nervously. "Did something else happen instead?"

"I'll tell you about it on the way back," Logic said, turning to walk back down the tunnel. "How about you? You... seem to be doing better, now that that's been, uh, taken care of."

"Yeah, I think so," Skizz confirmed. "Still not sure how I ended up in the Nether. Maybe it's like a Wither homeland type deal? I sorta remember feeling like I needed to come here for some reason."

"Could be any number of things," Logic replied lightly. "At least you are back now."

"Back and... hey," Skizz realized. "I just noticed, what's with the feathers in your hair? And... on both our arms. Why do I have feathers??"

Logic sighed, a tired smile on his face. "Oh, you know... another little gift from the Withers. We've called this one Slicer's Revenge."