Chapter Text
The world is seldom kind to any of us. It’s a hard lesson to learn, but it’s one that must be learned quickly. We are here to survive and survival isn’t easy; the earth cares little if we succeed.
The world is kind to none of us and the earth is patiently greedy.
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The mud was hard beneath his hands and the pale sun seemed like milk spilled between the dark twig-like trees. The air was cold, bitter with winter’s vengeance. His body was stiff and numb as though it too had frozen. The too-long coat had done just less than the bare minimum at keeping out the cold.
Tommy was pressed up next to him, still asleep. That was good. The longer he spent asleep meant the less time to worry about the hunger that was slowly eating away at them both. But the respite did not last forever and Tommy’s eyes began to open to the same old story of starvation.
“It’s cold, Wil. I’m cold.”
“I know, Tom. I am too, but let’s see if we can find something worth eating, hm?”
His little brother nodded. There was a weariness in Tommy’s eyes that shouldn't have been there. He was too young to have to worry about survival. Too young to go to sleep hungry every night. He’d always be too young for things like these. Too innocent.
He knew they’d be lucky to find anything to eat today. If they were indeed lucky, if the world took mercy, perhaps their fate would change. But it was better to be fed than hopeful. Better to be safe than sorry.
He and Tommy made their way out of the forest and into the fields beyond. If a farmer saw them they’d be chased off the land, but there were no farmers in the winter - nothing could grow. Tommy pulled himself up onto the road that ran alongside the fields and waved at Wilbur to follow with a grin.
Wilbur wondered how his brother could find the wonderful feelings of adventure and freedom after everything that had befallen them. How he could still look and act as a child even though his clothes were in tatters and his stomach was empty.
It’s because he’s still hopeful. He knows this can’t last forever. It won’t.
Of course. To be a child was to be hopeful. Tommy held enough hope for the both of them, and Wilbur would try to see them fed and safe into the next day. Hoping kept them looking forward, stopping them from looking at their current situation too closely.
There were puddles of ice scattered along the road. Both he and Tommy kept stumbling and slipping, occasionally grabbing onto each other for stability. Tommy burst into laughter after one absolutely ludicrous collapse on his part. Though his legs stung from the impact, seeing Tommy laugh brought a smile to his own face.
For a while they were children. Just children playing together on an icy road. It felt like freedom. Something that money and hardship couldn’t touch. It felt wonderful.
Tommy started sliding down the road, his laughter filling the air like a flock of birds. Within seconds he was ahead of him. Wilbur tried to match the way Tommy was moving his feet and eventually managed to get the hang of it. The game soon turned into a race.
Sometimes he would manage to get ahead and Tommy would then yank him backwards. They continued until the ice ran out and the sun went down, stopping when they reached a crossroads.
Tommy sat down at the fork, panting heavily but grinning. Wilbur sat down next to him.
“That was fun.”
“It was.”
Tommy let out a yawn and smiled sleepily at him. “I’m tired, Wil.”
He gestured to his shoulder. Took his arm out of the coat sleeve and wrapped it round Tommy, letting him rest against his side; just as they had last night. The day was a nice change - a break from the monotony of survival. They’d been so happy, so happy they’d forgotten they were starving.
Eventually sleep came for him too. It came for him like a raven. Sudden, dark and soft.
………………………………………………………
He woke to someone gently shaking his shoulder. It was a man dressed in green with short blond hair and a mouth quick to smile. There was a carriage behind him with two dappled horses hitched up to it. At least, he thought they were dappled - the dark made it hard to tell.
“Hey mate, you alright? You both look near dead.”
Wilbur arched an eyebrow at that. Near dead? He glanced down at Tommy. His lips were going blue and the dirt made his skin look a pale grey. The only sign that he was still alive was the rising and falling of his chest. They could have died out here, sleeping at the crossroad. The lack of shelter made it so incredibly cold. Cold enough to freeze. Cold enough to die.
He shook his head. “We’re freezing,” he said. Well he tried to say it, but it came out as a hoarse whisper instead.
The man smiled softly at him - in the way a father smiles at a child, “I can give you a place to stay. Come on into the carriage and let’s get you both warmed up.”
Some part of Wilbur’s mind reminded him of the danger of accepting help from strangers, but he was too cold to care. Anything right now was better than freezing to death. He nudged Tommy awake and helped him into the warm carriage.
The benches were submerged in blankets and they trailed onto the floor. There was a wide array of colours and patterns, almost like someone had poured out a rainbow. The man passed them both the thickest blankets he could find; one a vivid red and the other a soft yellow.
Tommy cocooned himself inside the red one and smiled groggily at the warmth. In all honesty Wilbur thought he looked like a caterpillar. A very warm one. A very happy one.
He followed suit, bundling himself into the yellow wool blanket, marvelling at the softness. There were spirals sewn into the fabric with golden thread. He traced his fingers over the embroidery, enjoying the texture of the thread beneath his fingers.
“Who are you?”
“Name’s Philza Minecraft, mate. Yours?”
“Wilbur. This is my brother Tommy.”
“What were the two of you doing by the side of the road, Wilbur?”
“We didn’t mean to end up there. We meant to find something to eat but we got carried away with playing on the road ice. We ended up much farther than we thought and by the time we’d gotten here it was getting dark.”
Philza nodded in understanding but his eyebrows quickly furrowed. “Mate, when was the last time either of you two ate?”
The words died in his mouth. He didn’t know. The days had just bled into each other and he couldn’t piece what happened with when. He met Philza’s eyes before glancing away. He didn’t know why he felt ashamed at not having eaten, but the feeling sat right on his chest.
He should have taken better care of them both.
“Hey, it’s alright. We can get you some food soon; there’s a town close by.”
Wilbur gave him a sad smile and burrowed himself in the blanket a little more. He didn’t really want to talk anymore but he didn’t want to sleep either, so he passed the time by studying Philza the stranger.
He was plainly dressed but the clothes were of a make that Wilbur hadn’t seen before. He wore a black cowl and where the man’s own heart would be, there was a red one stitched into the fabric. An emblem? Beneath the cowl, Wilbur found his eyes drawn to an emerald swinging on a thin golden chain.
A rich man then. One with simpler tastes than the nobles who crowded the courts of kings. Or possibly just not rich enough to afford the ostentatious luxury.
Everything after that came in bits and pieces.
He remembered Philza handing them both loaves of bread that had tasted warm and salty with seeds scattered throughout. The town’s streets were cobbled and the air smelt of fish.
After the town there were barren fields and dark forests that lined the road which gave Wilbur chills. The blanket draped over Philza’s knees was embroidered with black birds and feathers.
He was sure the journey must’ve taken longer than he thought but his mind was fuzzy and only picked up pieces of what was happening - like a toddler playing. One thing that stood out in perfect detail, however, was the destination. A palace. That meant Philza was royalty.
Inside, servants came and went and the only constant was Philza. He carried Tommy down the hallways, politely brushing off the flurrying servants and questions. Wilbur followed him through the maze of corridors and held onto the yellow blanket with his grubby fingers.
They were ushered into a room where they were given a bath and new clothes. Wilbur heard a servant mutter that they’d never seen so much dirt on one person, let alone two children. Shame burned his cheeks until they’d smiled at him and given him a glass of milk. The people here were kind to him and Tommy. It felt good to be looked after.
By now it was dawn and another day was beginning. It was strange how quickly things could change. Yesterday, a mere crumb of food would’ve been considered a stroke of luck, and today there was more food than he’d ever be able to eat in his entire life.
He was forever grateful for Tommy, who had held onto hope in the way that people held onto treasure. Tommy had always said that things would get better tomorrow, that they’d be luckier the next day. He was right even when Wilbur had doubted him. He’d been right all along. Better days were ahead.
They followed a girl called Niki down to the dining room. She told them her parents were cooks and that she wanted to be just like them one day. Niki went on about all her favourite things to make, like the icing for cakes and the giant fish pies. When Philza complimented her food she’d beamed with pride and run straight down to tell her parents.
“Mister Philza, are you a King?” Tommy asked.
“I am, mate. But you can call me Phil.”
“Pog!” Phil quirked an eyebrow. “It means cool.” Tommy mumbled and Phil grinned.
“Sounds like a pretty fun word.”
His little brother lit up. “It is!” After that Tommy began firing question after question at Phil.
“What’s your favourite food?”
“Oh, nearly anything and everything - but I’m not fond of poultry or game. The only meat I actually enjoy is fish.”
“Favourite colour?”
“Green.”
“Is that why you have the rock around your neck? It’s really shiny.”
Phil gave the emerald an affectionate tug. “It’s an emerald, a gift from a very good friend of mine. We haven’t seen each other in a while and they gave me this last time we met.”
“Have they got one too?”
“Oh yeah, his is an earring. He was never fond of wearing necklaces.”
“So they’re like friendship emeralds?”
“I suppose so.”
Tommy grabbed his arm and shook it. “Friendship emeralds, Wil! When I make a friend, I’m going to do that!”
“Well there are plenty of kids around here for you guys to make friends with. Many of them help their parents with serving or come along during court meetings, so there are kids here pretty much all the time.”
Tommy’s big blue eyes widened until they looked almost like pools of water. Wilbur jumped in, asking the question he knew was on the tip of his brother’s tongue. “Could we go exploring? We could go find some friends.”
“That sounds like a good idea Wil. If you do get lost, just ask someone to give you a hand.”
Tommy scarfed down the rest of his food and Wilbur did the same. “Thank you very much for the food Phil - it was really yummy. May we go exploring now?”
Phil nodded and Tommy bolted from the room with Wilbur chasing after him.
………………………………………………………………
The first thing they had done was find Niki and she had led them to Tubbo. Tubbo was around Tommy’s age and was almost always in the gardens. They’d found him tending to some sunflowers beneath a large oak tree. Tommy and Tubbo got along like a house on fire. They were inseparable.
Tubbo had led them to the throne room where the nobles held court. That was where they’d met Eret. They were trying to sneak away from the overbearing pressure of the nobles and immediately jumped at the chance to explore with their merry little group.
They wandered round the palace and its grounds all day. Tubbo showed them the best trees for climbing and Eret took them through the large grand rooms. Niki led them down the servants' passages and into rooms where they could hide away from grownups.
Their favourite places to play were the laundry rooms and the gardens. There was something wonderful about playing amongst bubbles and flowers. Over the years the washerwomen grew quite fond of them and would tell them stories. Tommy’s favourites were the ones about a fearsome pirate who called himself the Blood God.
The stories were told with vigour and enthusiasm, and that was part of what kept them coming back. Each time another woman would start where the other left off - telling the story in a slightly different way. Tommy and Wilbur would listen quietly whilst folding the newly pressed linens.
And that was their life for a few blissful years. The two of them were still thicker than thieves but they were no longer attached at the hip. They’d both become slightly more independent.
On his birthday Philza took him up to the palace’s roof. It felt incredible to sit between the statues under the moon.
“Mate I’ve got something for you.”
From the folds of his cloak Philza produced a compass. It was breathtaking. On the casing there was an engraved sun - the kingdom’s insignia. The compass itself was intricately decorated with stars and constellations.
“Thank you, it’s beautiful.”
“Happy birthday mate,” Philza seemed fragile, almost hidden, like he was trying to break something gently, “there’s something you should know about this kingdom and about me, Wilbur.
“This kingdom is rotting from the inside out. It seems picturesque but the nobles in the court are fuelled with greed and anger. They want me out and they aren’t very keen on you and Tommy either.”
Wilbur knew that. Sometimes he’d tagged along with Phil to court and he’d picked up vicious whispers about the both of them.
“I’m going to have to leave soon. I can’t stay any longer or they’ll try something more extreme than altering my decisions - they might act on their plots.”
And suddenly Wilbur understood what was going to happen. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want to be a king. He didn’t want to see the world come crashing down around him. He wanted his dad to stay . He needed him to.
Wilbur clung to him, trying to anchor him to their home. “Don’t leave. Don’t leave us dad,” there were tears welling in his eyes, “please don’t go.”
“Oh mate, I’ve got to. I can’t keep you or Tommy safe if I’m under their control.”
“But you’re all we’ve got. Tommy thinks the world of you, I think the world of you. We don’t want to be alone again.”
“I’m not leaving you and Tommy alone, I’d never do that. I just can’t stay here. Remember my old friend? He’s going to keep you both safe, okay? You guys’ll love him.”
“But you’re still leaving.”
His dad pulled him tightly into a hug. They stayed there until the sky became a vivid orange and the stars disappeared.
“You’ll see me again mate. You’re going to go far, you’ve got everything you need right here.”
“But I don’t know how to be king. I’m never going to be as good as you.”
“Wil, you’ll be better. Far better than me. I love you so much.”
They shared one last hug before Phil’s cloak lifted into a pair of dark green wings and carried him into the sky. He looked like an angel at first but the further away he flew, the more he looked like a raven. Then he was gone.
He clambered down into the palace, clutching the compass in his hand. He’d seen Phil carrying it around sometimes. Once he’d been so sure that the stars had moved and he’d begged Phil for a closer look at it. It felt heavy in his hand.
His home felt so much quieter without his dad. The halls seemed to echo his presence but in a way that wasn’t quite right. For the first time in his life Wilbur felt isolated. Helpless. On his birthday too.
It was such a strange thing to grieve for someone who was still alive.
Tommy opened the door before he could even knock.
“Did Dad already leave?”
They spent the day in Tommy’s room. Sometimes talking, sometimes not and thinking about the future. Because here they were, alone again.
And it felt so strange.