Chapter Text
It had been, a long time. The curtains that adorned your bedroom window swayed slightly with the sunlight filtering throughout the beige blinds. A bed made perfectly with no importance sat in the corner of the oak room, while above it sat the window with the curtains. Curtains were small, and movable, since you had made them with the sheep fur that your mother had given you when you had both lived together. Around your bed was a small chest that acted as a dresser for you, but you only had one pair of clothing. The floors gave off some sort of warm, homely vibes to it, but the most important thing to note was that you had one thing that was so valuable to you: A Lily of the Valley. You hadn’t found its counterpart, a cornflower, for your mother’s wishes. Although, to the eyes of anyone or some sort of traveler that would come across your village, your house was no bigger than nine blocks, with cobblestone as the flooring and wood as the sturdiness and roof. Fences surrounded your rooftop, though you had no access of getting up there without a ladder, which you didn’t know if anyone in the villager really had. Needless to say, you were find in the small home you were accompanied in. Standing next to the door, and opening it, you found yourself met with a small breeze of wind coming through the door and caressing itself onto your (black, white, mixed, vitiligo, albino, etc.) skin, before disappearing. It was the same.
You chuckled at the antics of the wind, before stepping out into the streets of the village. Children were darting around, playing with some sticks they found near the tilted ground that made up their path. Screams of adventures and playing catch with the sticks brightened your day up, though you didn’t particularly liked kids that much. It was an exception to see only those children run around each day, and all day until when night falls would they stop. Women were silently chatting under the shade of the blacksmith’s tree, the heat of the lava only filling their quotes of gossip about the other women and men in the village which you stayed. It was fueling them, you thought, some sort of sense coming to you as you listened into their conversation.
“Did you hear? I heard that Naomi didn’t find herself someone in time.”
“That’s terrible. You know she’s been a widow for some time,”
“I hope she finds someone, she will need that strength for the children.”
You found this interesting, since it was always the same topic but with different meanings behind them. Quite funny if you thought about it. You gave a small wave to the women, who waved back cheerfully before going back to chittering and chatting about rumors.
You made your way over to the main area, the shopping center. Food, Enders, everything was sold here and for a price and another, they would trade. Everyone would have fair trading with one another, but the women in the town particularly liked to come to your stand on days such as anniversaries or weddings. Maybe even so, to ask for advice or something on a date. A flower-keep, they say, was the more important person of the village. They supplied the beauty and wonderful ways of the village by showing off the flowers that grew around in your area. Speaking of which, you were located in a forest, so you would have to actually get some more tomorrow while you were out. You had all that you needed, and you didn’t need to get any more for today. Waving to more of the shop keepers and traders, you took a small stand behind your own stand in the center, which was adorned by flowers and small emeralds broken up to give a glimmer. You were ready, and you hoped that someone would come, perhaps a traveler! They seemed to be more desolate these days, and you would love to see one in person.
You got knocked out of your sense with a knock at the stand, quickly standing up with roses scratching your (arms because you had no sleeves, sleeves because you didn’t want to show your arms, or shirt).
“Excuse me... Do you sell flowers?-“
You took a look, and found yourself staring at a man who definitely didn’t look like a traveler, but not someone who you had ever seen in such clothing before. He had a beard, white like snow that they would get in winter or late fall, and eyebrows that couldn’t compare to the business of a bush. He had a smooth head, and closed eyes which seemed as though wisdom would come out if he even opened one of his eyes, or squinted. He had his hands in front of him, though they were wrinkly and old, like the more elders in the village. He had on a brown shirt, and pants that were more of a tan to match his black shoes. He looked, interesting.
“Yes sir I do! Would you like to pick?”
“.. Do you have a cornflower? I would like one, but my old bones are getting much too stiff for me to wander around these mountains.”
You soon felt bad for the man, he wanted a cornflower, but you didn’t have one. You could easily leave and get one, but then the strange man would leave and you wouldn’t have a customer.
“Unfortunately, sir, I do not. I have a lot more than those however, poppies, tulips, rose bushes-“
“And what is your name, young one?-“
“Ah, uh. Wow, I’ve never really had someone asked me that. My name is (your name), I live here in my village with my mother and friends.”
“I mean no harm. I just wanted to know why a villager such as yourself is alone in a village that looks old as me.”
“Sir, my village is fresh and blooming, though you may cannot see it, it is filled with flowers and everything galore! I’m sure with some help of the rest, we could find you a situated home-“
“What, others?-“
You took a pause, before you darted your head around quickly from side of side. Strange, everyone seemed to be gone, maybe someone had rung the bell while you were talking and everyone had to go back inside. You should too, it’s a village rule.
“I’m sorry sir but I must get back inside. It’s far too late for me to be out here when the bell is rung-“
“The bell is old, it is torn, and cannot ring another note. There are no people here, and yet you NPCS live out of the fantasies that I have created for you, and some take it too far, like yourself.”
“Sir please, take a look at the children inside, the women who were gossiping and chattering about the widow who can’t find a husband.”
“You are lost. I have taken it too far with my time as the creator of this game, being a fool at a young age to give you people the sense of living in this world.”
He gave a sigh of disappointment, one of something along the lines of regret and minginess. Taking something from his pocket, is what seemed to be something golden, he placed it on the stand, before pushing it over towards you. Casually, you took a look down, and found what meant to be a sort of yellow long object. Its face was one with a long nose and emeralds for his eyes, while wings spreader out high as though it was having a second chance at life. You were cautious, why would you take this when the men seemed to be so adamant on no one was here? Everyone was inside, but perhaps he didn’t see them go inside like she did as well
“What is this? I’ve never seen it before.”
“Take it, young one. It is a totem of undying. And pray to myself that this works and you will not suffer the fate of your fantasies anymore.” He pleaded, gently taking it into your hand as he closed your fingers around it. You felt, a sense of another being inside of it. Was it a monster?
“Sir-“
“I’m sorry, my child. I hope that the people of this server do you well, as I cannot stay in this form for long.”
A sound of metal clanked against the ground, and before you knew it, you had a tough feeling in your heart. Staggering, and still holding the yellow object between your fingertips as you fell to the ground, giving quick gasps of air. You felt lightheaded, and couldn’t bare to look down at what the old man did. You tried to scream, but you felt as though you were being ripped apart by shreds of something far worse than a stab to the heart.
“S- Sir! I-“
You couldn’t think, death being far worse than what you had hoped it would be. You cried out, for the help of the villagers, the children, the blacksmith, the farmer, the women, the wives, everyone. But there was no one. No one to hear your pleas of life. You faded, succumbing to the vision of black, though your hand with the object felt a sudden lightness to it.
An NPC.
What did that mean?