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You do not have because you do not ask.
—James 4:2b
Philza Minecraft is an extraordinarily competent man. He has lived alone in the wilderness for decades and thrived. He has conquered dragons. He has drained the ocean and built down into the void. He has co-run an empire. He once even raised a child (read: harbinger of chaos). He has been an explorer, an architect, a warrior, a ruler, a parent, and he has done all these things well (aside from maaaybe the parenting, but Wilbur was . . . difficult). Phil has even won the respect of the great Technoblade himself.
His self esteem really shouldn’t be so fragile.
Normally, it isn’t, and insults affect him as much as they would an especially sturdy brick wall, but there is one issue in particular that strikes a chord with Phil.
He’s been trying to work up the courage to address it for a while, but every time he has Techno’s full attention, Phil looks into those blood-red eyes, ever cutting and analytical, and the steel in Phil’s spine, ever sturdy through war and hardship, melts away and leaves him weak-kneed and trembling. Maybe it’s stupid, but Technoblade does not award his respect to just anyone, and once rescinded, he has never once restored it. Phil has had to work hard to earn that respect, and he finds he will do anything to keep it.
So every time, he finds himself spewing out some pointless joke and changing the subject.
They dance around the topic for a long time. Techno is an avid reader, ever going on about this book and that. Sometimes, Phil finds it hard to believe the man is a renowned warrior and not a librarian. He also finds it hard to believe that after the barrage of questions and debates over literature, Techno merely assumes that Phil doesn’t know those books because he reads different books than him, never mind the fact that the man has never once seen Phil read.
“So that’s what you read,” he comments when he sees Phil recite enchantments by heart, or when Phil spouts an obscure nature fact which he’s learned from his years alone in the wild, “Nonfiction, huh? I guess that makes sense. You’re so practical, Phil.”
Every time, Phil opens his mouth to correct him, then makes some senseless joke like the coward he is.
The biggest issue is when they go to tournaments. Maybe it says something about MCC that they have to write out a list of instructions such as the path they should follow for Ace Race. There are also signs on the course itself, but Phil can’t read those either, and he’s heard that they’re not especially helpful, anyway.
Normally, Phil manages to fool someone on his team into reading these instructions aloud so he knows where he’s going. Usually Wilbur, who’s the only person who knows, will hunt him down and read everything to him, even when they’re on separate teams. (Of course he’ll make fun of Phil later in private, which hurts a little bit, but Will has never told anyone, so Phil can’t really complain.)
But one day, when Wilbur tries to read the instructions out loud, Fundy makes an impatient sound and Jack Manifold waves him off with a, “Yeah, yeah, we can all read the thing,” before launching into an intense strategic discussion. Wilbur sends Phil an apologetic look and tries to fit in as many references to the instructions as possible, but they never manage to sneak off to read the thing, and Phil is not going to ask after that comment.
The disastrous result of this is that Phil gets lost while in second place and leads the entire lobby off track during Ace Race. It’s humiliating.
Wilbur hunts him down afterwards to apologize for the circumstances. Techno finds them not long after and launches into a complaint that the course was badly designed and the instructions weren’t clear and Phil shouldn’t feel stupid because no one really understood where they were supposed to go. It’s a thoughtful gesture that Phil appreciates from his friend, and he almost admits everything then and there.
“Hey, Techno—”
Unfortunately, someone else also finds them just then.
Tommy isn’t a malicious kid, and he really only makes fun of people when he knows they can take it. Phil is not known for being thin-skinned, so Tommy walks right up to him and mocks him mercilessly. “What was that, Philza Minecraft? Can’t you read?”
Phil can’t quite stop himself from wincing visibly.
Tommy sees this, and his expression shifts to something more apologetic. “Oh—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Of all the people to defend him, Technoblade steps up. “Phil isn’t stupid. He just made a mistake because the course was badly designed. I got lost, too, and so did you.” Techno turns back to Phil. “What were you sayin’?”
Phil’s ears are ringing.
Phil isn’t stupid.
Phil isn’t stupid.
Does Techno think people who couldn’t read were stupid?
“Nothing,” says Phil, his heart sinking. “Don't worry about it, mate.”
He can get along okay without it the rest of the time. He knows how to read coordinates, at least, and that's really all he's ever needed alone on his hardcore words; he knows the necessary enchantments by heart. It's a little more difficult now that he spends more time on servers. Wilbur used to help cover for him, even if he would tease Phil mercilessly for it in private, but Will isn't here now.
Things get a lot quieter in Dream SMP. After Phil retires with Techno to the wilderness, he almost never encounters the written word at all. Techno seems to have picked up on Wilbur’s habit of reading everything aloud, and sometimes, he’ll read stories to Phil. Phil learns a lot about literature that way. It’s nice.
When Techno goes off to the prison, Phil accepts the will without too much thought. Why wouldn’t he? It’s not like anything can stop Techno from coming back. That would be ridiculous. Nothing can overpower Technoblade, master of strategy. If Athena exists, Phil is sure she’s watching over this man even more than Odysseus. He will never come to harm.
On the second day, Phil peeks at the thing. Most of the pages are blank, but the first several bear hundreds of tiny marks. He squints at them, but they don’t seem interested in giving up their secrets.
Phil snorts and closes the book. It doesn’t matter; Techno will be back tomorrow.
Tomorrow comes, and Phil figures Techno’s just taking his time. He’s not worried. He’s not. Not after the fourth day or the fifth or even the sixth. Techno is not in trouble. Techno doesn’t get in trouble. Techno has a backup plan for everything.
Techno gave him the will.
Phil doesn’t sleep that night. He lies awake in bed, waiting, desperately hoping that he’ll hear loud, heavy footsteps in the snow and dogs barking joyously for their master’s return.
Nothing.
A week and a half in, Phil opens the book again and stares, desperately trying to make out something, anything amongst the lines and squiggles. Some small bit of schooling pulls through from many, many years ago, and he manages to recognize the letter P. That’s the first letter of his name, he knows, followed by three more letters, though he doesn’t know which ones. He can see that exact formula repeating several times across the pages.
Phil flings the thing across the room so hard it shatters a window. Then he bolts after it, desperately hoping it wasn't damaged in the snow.
Now it has watermarks. Great. They don’t seem to have warped the markings on the page, but Phil honestly can't remember what they looked like before, so how would he know? Frustration overwhelms him suddenly, and he shouts into the empty arctic. The sound echoes between the three empty houses and melts into the wide, snowy expanse.
No one answers.
Ranboo drops by a few days later, saying he hasn't seen Phil in a while.
Phil hasn't seen Techno in sixteen days. He was supposed to read the will after three. Phil doesn't want to think about what that means for his friend.
He tries to distract himself. He has a pleasant, if absentminded chat with the boy who has come to his door. Ranboo definitely notices that something is wrong, but he's not the sort to pry. Phil is grateful; he doesn't want to deal with that situation right now.
Ranboo nods at something Phil says and makes a note in his memory book, and the realization nearly knocks Phil over.
The boy looks up, startled to see him stumble and grip the doorframe.
“Um, are you okay?”
Ranboo can read. He would know what the book says. He could tell Phil.
Phil is already inhaling to ask when he stops. Techno gave the will to Phil , not Ranboo. What if it has some sort of secret in it? Techno is not one to share his thoughts often, not even with those he is on good terms with. How would Techno respond if he knew that anyone had read it, even if it was Ranboo? That could be viewed as a betrayal of sorts, and Techno . . . Techno doesn’t take betrayal well.
Phil forces a strained smile onto his face. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” He shuts down the conversation not long after and retreats back into his house. Ranboo watches him with worried eyes, but he doesn't dare call Phil out.
He dreams of Techno, locked in the prison, slowly wasting away. He wakes abruptly, sure he has heard Techno returning, but after a thorough investigation, he finds the other house still empty. Even if he had come back, there’s no way the sound would reach Phil’s ears from inside his own home.
It later occurs to Phil that he could ask Ranboo to teach him to read. It would take a while, but surely late is better than never?
He tries several times, but there’s this terrible seed of pride in him that can't admit he needs help, the same vice that keeps him from admitting it to Techno, from seeing that look of shock and disdain that is sure to form on his friend’s face. He has three more conversations with Ranboo and never even broaches the topic.
There's one time he’s so desperate that he runs all the way to Ranboo’s house before he can change his mind. But the window is dark in the little cabin, and no one answers, despite Phil's shouts.
He's turning to go when Ranboo walks up behind him. A bit startled by Phil's disheveled appearance, he asks if something’s wrong. Phil's courage abandons him, and he hurriedly conjures an excuse. Then he locks himself in his house to wallow in embarrassment and shame.
The days pass in a blur. Phil feels paralyzed, utterly useless, like his damaged wing. But at least that was for a good cause; Phil has no such excuse. Techno trusted him, and Phil has failed him.
All Techno’s research and planning and backups gone down the drain, useless, all because he didn't know his friend couldn't read. Phil lists them off idly, sitting with his head in his hands: the Syndicate, the will, the stasis chambers.
The stasis chambers.
Phil has never run so fast in his life. Through the snow, no coat, through the winding passages of their hideout, he finally stumbles to a stop before an Ender pearl bobbing cheerfully in a small pool of water.
And then the doubt comes. What if this is the opposite of what Techno wants? What if the will was telling him not to worry, Techno was fine, he was going undercover to get information from Dream or something?
Phil doesn't care. He just wants his friend back. He wants to see Techno here, unharmed, even if he's angry at Phil.
Phil closes the trapdoor.
Technoblade appears in a flash of purple particles, gasping and wild-eyed, and Phil's heart freezes in his chest.
“Are you okay?” He struggles to keep his voice from shaking, grabs potions and shoves them at his friend.
The man inhales more abruptly, more controlled. “THREE MONTHS, Phil.”
Phil wants to cry. He doesn’t because he’s better than that, but he wants to. Has it really been three months? He’d lost track.
“I said three days, not three months! Do you have any idea how close that was? I nearly died!”
“I did right, then?” Phil manages, still struggling to hold himself together. This is so stupid; Techno is the one who nearly died. Phil has been sitting around doing nothing. Being useless because that’s what Phil does.
Techno waves a hand irritably. “Did you not look at the will?”
“I can’t read .” He does not mean to say it out loud, would never admit it in a million years, but it just slips out.
Techno is so startled that he pauses his rant and stares at Phil disbelievingly. “You . . . can’t read.”
“No!” Phil all but wails.
“But there’s writing all over the place,” Techno says slowly like he’s thinking it through. “I’ve never seen you struggling with signs or labels or anything.”
"You always read everything for me, so I never bothered to learn!” Phil shrieks.
Techno tilts his head thoughtfully, as if this is a puzzle to be solved, not the most humiliating conversation Phil has ever been a part of. “Then why didn’t you say anything when I gave you the will?”
“I didn't think it would matter because you always seem to have a way out of every situation. I didn't think you'd really need my help, so I didn't take it seriously!”
Techno looks absolutely dumbfounded. Phil wants to sink into the earth and never be seen again. He has never felt so utterly humiliated and ashamed in his entire life. He has failed his best friend. Techno nearly died because of him. Because he didn’t take his friend seriously, just like he didn’t accept that there was anything wrong with his son until Wilbur knelt on stone as ash rained down and demanded that Phil end his miserable existence. Wow, Phil really is a failure, isn’t he? How many other lives will he ruin before he learns?
The silence stretches on, and Phil can feel his face burning under his friend's scrutiny. He wishes Techno would yell at him already. It would be better than this excruciating wait.
“. . . Well, I guess I'll have to teach you then.”
Now it's Phil's turn to stare. “What?” he croaks.
“Someone's gotta teach ya,” Techno says matter-of-factly. “It's an important life skill.”
Phil stumbles over to the nearest chair—Techno’s, actually—and sinks into it. He normally channels stress well, but that's because he can normally do something about it. Buildings can be finished, enemies conquered, Wilburs grounded, but all that time feeling useless plus whatever emotional roller coaster this is has finally gotten to him, and he doesn't know how to cope with it all.
Techno sets a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Easy, old man. Don't overdo yourself.”
Phil scoffs, more out of habit than any particular desire to joke just now. He has never understood Techno's refusal to take anything seriously, even the most dire situations. Phil doesn't know how he does it.
“I'm not old,” he argues anyway because he knows his friend wants him to.
“You are,” Techno enunciates slowly and firmly, “old and illiterate. One of those problems is solvable.” He pauses, and suddenly, he looks confused. “Wait, so you haven't actually read any of those books I lent you? So how did we talk about the shield of Achilles for three hours? No one knows about that part of the Iliad.”
Phil laughs despite himself. “You never shut up about them, mate. All I have to do is act interested, and you'll retell the whole plot to me in detail. I can figure it out from there.”
Techno looks a bit startled to receive this information. “You actually listen when I do that?”
Phil frowns. “Were you not expecting me to?”
“Bruuuh, no one listens to me unless I’m being big and scary, and even then it’s not like they understand.” Techno leans on the table and studies Phil for a moment. “Guess you’re smarter than I thought.”
“Hey!” Phil protests, and then, “Wait, what?”
“You’re smarter than I thought,” Techno enunciates slowly, as if he really is stupid.
“I’m illiterate!”
“Coulda fooled me.” Techno frowns. “You did fool me. How did you fool me? No one fools me.” He looks far too disgruntled about the absolute least important matter in this whole mess.
Phil doesn’t really know how to respond to this, so he ends up spluttering incoherently. Apparently, he looks stupid enough that that it’s funny because Techno tilts his head back and laughs in that deep chuckle that only Phil can draw out of him. The first time Phil ever heard that sound, he knew it for what it was: solid, irrefutable proof that Technoblade had accepted him as an equal, that they really were friends. Now, Phil listens to it with bewilderment and wonders faintly why they’re still friends.
Technoblade firmly grips Phil’s wrist and tugs him to his feet. “C’mon, old man, we’d better get started. There are so many books you need to read.”
And now Phil finds himself gripped with a new kind of fear—education. Oh, the horror. He managed to avoid it for the most part in his youth, but now, it seems, it has finally caught up to him.
Techno has always liked to laugh at others’ pain, and he does so now with zero remorse. Then, he launches into a lengthy recounting of what will soon become Phil’s reading list.
Why is Phil friends with this nerd again? He doesn’t know, but he can’t find it in himself to mind.