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Wilbur had always been a wanderer.
From when they were six, Techno would wake up and find his bed empty. He’d be out in the garden playing his guitar, or singing in one of the high towers of the palace, or talking their mom’s ear off over an early breakfast. Techno didn’t get it, not really, but he understood it in a weird way. That was just how Wilbur was. They were twins—two sides of the same coin, opposites but complements. Of course they weren’t the same.
Tommy was a surprise in the best of ways. Techno knew instantly that Wilbur would love him to death, and he did. The first few weeks after the newest prince was born were the only weeks in which Wilbur became predictable—every single time, without fail, he was there by Tommy’s cradle. He talked endlessly, and Tommy looked up at him like he was the entire world.
Techno loved both his brothers. He didn’t say it very often, but he loved all the little moments, like the time Tommy had tried to pick up a sword when he was four then dropped the hilt on his foot and Wilbur had laughed so hard his crown fell off. Their mom had grabbed it and set it back on his head when he’d forgotten to pick it up.
Wilbur had never been much of a prince, anyway. He’d stay up late looking at maps and telling Techno all the places he wanted to go. No one ever expected him to be king one day—that was always Techno’s role. They did expect, though, that he’d stick around at least until then.
Then their mom had died.
Her death changed things. Phil grieved in solitude and Tommy cried himself to sleep in Techno’s arms and all of Wilbur’s songs turned sad. A few days after their sixteenth birthday, two months after their mom’s death, Wilbur had suddenly stood up at the dinner table and announced that he wanted to go on a trip. Alone.
Phil had let him. Techno had tried to object, but when his dad had turned to him with a tired gaze and just said, “Tech, he’s Wilbur,” he’d known in his bones that he’d have to let his twin go for at least a little while. That was just how he was—that was how he’d figure things out.
Wilbur came back eventually, and then he left again, and then he came back, and then he left.
Techno couldn’t even find it in himself to be bitter about it.
—
“Techno!” Someone poked his face. “Techno, Wilbur’s leaving!”
“Again?” he mumbled, still half-asleep.
“He wants to say goodbye, bitch! Get up!” Tommy threw the blankets off his bed. “Come on!”
The temptation to make Tommy work for it—at least make him say ‘please’ or something—was strong, but Techno relented and stood up. Wilbur was leaving, and he did want to say goodbye. Of course Wilbur couldn’t wait until it was at least morning to get going.
Tommy dragged him down the hall to a tiny side door where Wilbur stood with a bag of supplies and a guitar on his back. He gave Phil a hug before turning toward them and smiling. Techno was going to miss that smile while he was gone.
Wilbur held his arms out and Tommy went running into them. “Take me with you,” he whined.
“Aw, I wish I could.”
“When you’re older, Tommy,” Phil said.
Techno tried not to imagine Wilbur taking Tommy with him and leaving him by himself as he prepared to be the king someday. Or worse, them leaving him after Phil eventually died and he was the king. The thought of being all alone in the palace made him want to scream.
Wilbur ruffled his little brother’s hair. “You’ll be sixteen before you know it. Years are shorter than you think—old man Phil here can attest to that.”
“I’m not that old.”
“He’s ancient,” Wilbur stage-whispered.
Tommy giggled. “I’ll be a big man when I turn sixteen. Gonna go on adventures and shit.”
“Got the language of a sixteen-year-old already,” Phil muttered.
“You already are a big man, Tommy,” Wilbur told him. “The biggest. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
He nodded. “Okay.”
Wilbur walked over to Techno, who suddenly became aware of the distance between him and the rest of the group. “I’ll miss you.”
Techno crossed his arms, feeling out of place. He was barefoot in his pajamas, standing in the hallway and saying goodbye to his twin. As much as he wanted Wilbur to be happy, he also wanted him to stay.
“Do you really have to go?”
“I’ll be back.”
“After how many months?” Techno asked. “You know I miss you when you’re gone, right?”
“I know. I miss you, too,” Wilbur sighed. “It’ll only be a few months, alright? I just- I can’t stay cooped up in here.”
How could someone be cooped up when they were home?
“I hope you have fun.”
He smiled. “Thanks, Techno.” He wrapped him in a hug, which he returned. “I’ll see you.”
There was no “soon,” just “I’ll see you.” Just a vague promise that at some point, he would be back. Techno convinced himself that that was enough.
“Bye, Will.”
Wilbur let go of the hug first. He hurried back toward the door, deigning to let Phil fuss over him a bit more and ruffle Tommy’s hair one last time before he left. He paused in the doorway and saluted Techno—they’d done that since they were kids for a reason neither of them remembered anymore. Techno returned the gesture.
And Wilbur left.
—
Ever since Wilbur had started taking trips, Techno had found himself measuring time by how long he’d been gone. It was his internal clock—in those brief days where Wilbur was home, time seemed to freeze, but he always left again and the years trudged on.
Two days after Wilbur left, they had waffles for breakfast.
Ten days after Wilbur left, Phil started spending more time in his study.
Seventeen days after Wilbur left, Tommy officially turned ten and a half years old (and made sure everyone knew it).
Three weeks after Wilbur left, Phil started spending more time in the war room.
A month and a day after Wilbur left, an assassin got into the palace.
It was a petition day, when the doors to the palace were opened and all the citizens could bring their problems directly to the king. Phil sat up on his throne with Techno and Tommy standing side by side to his right. There wasn’t even an empty spot where Wilbur was supposed to be.
Techno did his best to listen to the petitions. They were important, and it’d be his job to hear them out someday. Given how generally boring the whole ordeal was and the fact that Tommy couldn’t stand still for the life of himself, though, it was a little difficult.
“Why is that man bald?” Tommy whispered, narrowing his eyes at the current petitioner.
“He’s not bald, Tommy.”
“Yes, he is. I thought people weren’t supposed to get bald until they were old.”
“He just likes to cut his hair short.”
“That is very stupid of him.” Tommy turned toward him with the kind of glint in his eyes that told Techno he was about to say something incredibly funny and very rude. “Techno, he-”
The bolt of a crossbow sank into his chest with a thunk.
Tommy barely had time to look surprised before he was dead on the floor.
People immediately started screaming and running. Techno paid them no mind, only concerned with his brother. He fell to the floor by Tommy’s side, searching for any sign of life and finding none—his chest was still and his eyes glassy. The bolt had gone straight through his heart.
Techno scooped Tommy’s body into his shaking arms. Blood slowly stained the nice white shirt Phil had convinced him to wear not more than an hour ago. The king himself collapsed to his knees in front of him, terror plain in his face.
“He’s dead,” Techno told him plainly, struggling to get the words out.
Phil screamed.
It was the kind of scream that could only come from a grieving father, raw and agonized. Phil held Tommy’s head in his hands, freely sobbing. His young face—his ten-year-old face— was already turning deathly pale.
An assassin had managed to get into the same room as the king, the crown prince, and a child, and decided to shoot the child.
The guards found him. The rage in Phil’s eyes as he stepped through to interrogate him was unlike anything Techno had ever seen. He waited outside during the ordeal—he caught bits and pieces of the shouting. The assassin was a mercenary, sent by King Dream of the Essempi. He sang like a bird, giving up everything from the price of the job to his exact instructions, which were apparently “kill the youngest prince in front of his father.” The only thing he didn’t know was why.
Techno was aware that the Antarctic Empire wasn’t getting along with the Essempi—Phil always made sure to keep him informed on the nation’s politics. Killing a child prince, though? That was far beyond a disagreement and outside of any reason.
Phil left the room with an expression like stone. “We’re at war with the Essempi.”
Techno resisted the urge to say good. He wanted to see the people that had killed his brother bleed, but at the same time, war was never a good thing. Instead, he just nodded and went to get his sword.
Wilbur had a sword, too, even if he barely knew it. The fine blade hung on the wall just below Techno’s, covered in a fine layer of dust. He never took it with him on his travels.
Tommy didn’t have a sword. He was too young.
Techno grabbed his weapon and headed to the war room.
—
A month and five days after Wilbur left, Techno found himself in the middle of a war.
He stood in the command tent with Phil, one hand on the hilt of his sword as the Essempi’s royal advisor entered the tent. Sir Quackity breathed untrustworthiness with jeweled rings on his fingers, a half-smile on his lips, and a circular pin with a creepy smile on his chest.
“I’m alone and here to negotiate,” he said. “You can keep your weapon sheathed.”
“We’ll see about that,” Techno replied smoothly.
“You are very lucky I agreed to negotiate at all,” Phil snapped. “You had my son assassinated. Give me one good reason not to march on your soldiers right now.”
“You’d lose.”
“Unlikely.”
“You would,” Quackity said simply. “Dream just wants access to his port back, he doesn’t want to go to war.”
“If he didn’t want to go to war, then he shouldn’t have started one,” Phil snarled. “That port isn’t his to use, anyway. It’s on our side of the border, even if the bay is neutral territory. I was prepared to negotiate until Dream ordered the death of my goddamn son.”
Quackity raised an eyebrow. “You keep mentioning that.”
“He was ten!” Phil seethed. “Ten! He wasn’t a soldier or the crown prince or even any sort of diplomat, he was a child! And your king ordered for him to be killed in front of my fucking eyes!” He walked right up to Quackity and placed an accusatory finger against his chest. “I will not forgive the Essempi. I will not negotiate, and clearly, you don’t plan to either. If you have nothing else to do besides insult my loss, then you have ten seconds to leave this tent before I let Techno here run his sword through your gut.”
Quackity pursed his lips. “We will have that port, King Philza.”
“This isn’t about the fucking port anymore. You saw to that.”
“You’re right,” Quackity agreed with a slight hum. “It’s not just about the port anymore.” He held out a bejeweled hand. “To the bloody end of the war, then.”
“To the bloody end.”
Phil shook his hand to signify that the negotiations were over, drawing his hand back quickly as if he couldn’t stand to touch the man for longer than he had to. Quackity made his way toward the exit, pausing to nod at Techno.
“See you on the battlefield.”
A guard escorted him away. Techno could see her fingers digging into his shoulder with an iron grip. He hoped it hurt.
“As if he’s going to be fighting,” Techno huffed. “What even- Phil?”
His dad stumbled to sit down, a hand to his chest. “Shit,” he wheezed.
Techno hurried over to him. “Phil, Phil, what’s wrong?”
“He fucking stung me when I shook his hand.” His veins were suddenly much darker. “I think it was on one of his rings. Was- was hoping it was just static.”
“Medic!” Techno shouted. “MEDIC!”
Phil keeled over, and Techno barely caught him. “He fucking poisoned me,” he slurred, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
“Just hang on,” Techno pleaded. “A medic will be here in a minute, okay? They’ll help.”
Phil held up a hand—his veins were gray and rapidly turning darker. “He’s gonna come for you next.”
“What? Phil-”
“It’s not about the port!” he exclaimed, reaching up for Techno’s face weakly. “Dream wants the whole damn empire and he’ll kill us all to have it.”
“Hey, I’m not gonna die, and neither is Wilbur, and neither are you, okay?”
Phil shook his head sadly. “You’re gonna be a great king. I never had a doubt,” he whispered. “Keep Wilbur alive, would you?”
Wilbur’s not even here, Techno wanted to say. He’ll be fine.
“Don’t leave,” he said instead. “Please don’t leave.”
“Sorry, Tech.”
A medic entered the tent.
Phil stopped breathing in Techno’s arms.
—
Quackity didn’t make it back out of camp before Phil died. It took two minutes of interrogation to get enough information for Techno to order his execution. He wished he could say he felt more guilt for sending a man to the gallows, but all he’d felt as the floor fell out from underneath Quackity’s feet was cold vindication.
The war wasn’t going well. Techno did his best, but morale was low and it was difficult to pick up all of Phil’s unfinished plans from right where he left off. He spent most of his time at his and Tommy’s graves. He considered writing to Wilbur to tell him what had happened—they had crows that could find him and deliver a letter. But Phil had died asking him to keep his brother alive, and if the Essempi tracked that crow right to him, Techno would never forgive himself.
Wilbur, as it turned out, decided to have his own plans.
It was late at night and storming—Techno was cooped up in the war room, staring at the ever-advancing line of the Essempi’s troops. They were right outside the walls of the capital. The Empire was in poor condition to hold them back much longer.
When the door flew open, Techno shot to his feet, half-expecting it to be Dream, ready to kill him and take over the Empire. Instead, his brother stood in the doorway, soaking wet and overall looking like a mess.
“I…” Wilbur’s voice was hoarse. “I came as soon as I heard.”
Techno almost laughed. Usually, he wanted nothing more for his brother to come home—of course it was the one time he didn’t that he finally returned.
“You shouldn’t have come at all,” Techno said honestly.
“I couldn’t just- I couldn’t just not come,” Wilbur insisted. “They died and I wasn’t even here.”
“You hardly ever are.” Wilbur looked scandalized. “I didn’t mean- look, I know you need your space and all that, I don’t blame you for leaving, but… you aren’t around a lot.”
“Techno, I try.”
“I know.” Techno crossed the room in two strides and pulled his twin into a hug. “I know.”
Wilbur began to cry. “I thought I would see them again.”
“You should’ve.”
“Tommy was supposed to go on adventures with me.”
What about me? “Yeah, he was.”
“Could you- could you take me to their graves?”
“Yeah,” Techno sighed, just trying to be happy that Wilbur was there, even if it put him in danger. “Come on.”
It was a bit of a hike to the resting places of Tommy and Phil. The weather was terrible, but neither of them commented on it—they just walked on, wind and rain and all. Wilbur had never really dried off anyway. The funerals had been far from public affairs and only simple headstones marked the burial sites. In the middle of a war, the last thing Techno wanted was for the graves of his family to be found and desecrated by the enemy. And so two white stones with little more than names and dates stood in a secluded grove, rain pounding on the barely settled dirt.
Wilbur sank to his knees in front of them. “I should’ve been here.” Techno pretended not to listen—Wilbur wasn’t talking to him. “I’m so sorry, I- I just didn’t think I was meant for life in the palace, you know? I still don’t think I am, but… I was meant for life with you two. And I didn’t appreciate either of you quite enough. I had to hear about your deaths through strangers. Just random people on the street, chatting about how the youngest prince or the king had died. That was how I found out. The amount of guilt I felt when I realized you were gone and I hadn’t had the decency to even be around… I never got to say goodbye. Not even to your bodies.” The water dripping from Wilbur’s nose was rain, but the water on his cheeks was from his crying. “I’m sorry. And goodbye.”
After a moment, he got up and stood by Techno in silence. It stopped raining suddenly, but the sky remained dreary and overcast.
“You would’ve been safer if you hadn’t come back,” Techno told him.
“I thought about that.”
“And you came back anyway?”
Wilbur shrugged. “I had to,” he said simply. “Sorry it took me so long.”
“I’m just glad you’re here.”
And he was, in a way.
Wilbur raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said I shouldn’t have come back.”
“You shouldn’t have,” Techno agreed. “But it’s still good to see you.”
“I’m not ever leaving again,” Wilbur sighed, leaning against his shoulder.
Something in Techno objected to that instinctively. He was Wilbur. He didn’t sit still.
“You can, if you want to.”
“Well, I don’t want to,” Wilbur said. “Not unless you come with me.”
“I can’t just leave, I’m the king.”
“I know. Thank you for that, by the way.”
“For what?”
“For being king.” Wilbur cracked a grin that didn’t reach anywhere near his eyes. “You’re good at it. Better than I ever could be.”
Techno shook his head. “You’d be a great king. The Empire would love you.”
“Not a chance.”
“I never said you’d be a traditional king,” Techno said. “You wouldn’t be. But you’d be a great one.”
“Whatever you say, Tech. You just stay king for now, yeah?”
He chuckled half-heartedly. “Yeah, I’ve got it covered for now. Don’t worry.”
—
Wilbur didn’t leave.
Techno woke up the day after his arrival, and he was still there. And the day after that, and the day after that. His presence became as sure as the enemy’s daily advances.
It was only a matter of time before the Essempi got through the capital’s walls. The best Techno could do was prepare his own army to meet them when they did, and hope they would be enough. There was a good chance that they wouldn’t be. If they weren’t, it would be the end of the line for Techno. He woke up every day wondering if it was his last.
At least he had some warning, he supposed. Phil had only had an inkling. Tommy hadn’t had anything. He’d woken up with plans and dreams for a future that he didn’t know he’d never see.
Techno woke up every morning surprised to find he hadn’t been killed in the middle of the night by an assassin. The first thing he did was check to make sure that Wilbur was alive, too. Then he’d stare at maps until his twin dragged him out to see Tommy and Phil’s graves. He realized eventually that those visits were the best parts of his day. His daily reminder that his little brother and his dad were dead and never coming back was the only time he felt even a little bit of peace. How far his life had fallen.
At least they were together, he supposed. At least they didn’t have to suffer through the war.
A few days after Wilbur’s return, Techno spotted a column of smoke rising into the air as they neared the end of their visit. Wilbur was humming quietly to the headstones, and Techno hated to interrupt him, but the smoke could only mean one thing in his mind.
“Wilbur?” he called. “I think the war is ending.”
And it was. Techno could feel it as they hurried back toward the palace. Today, the Antarctic Empire would either fall or triumph. The chance for a stalemate was gone.
The smoke only grew darker as time passed by. Techno crested the hill overlooking the palace to find much less of it standing than he remembered.
Orange flames climbed on every wall, flickering aggressively as they burned. A giant cloud of gray hung over the city, even though the palace was the only thing that seemed to be on fire. It was already half-gone.
“We need to go,” Wilbur said hoarsely, his eyes fixed on the destruction. “Both of us.”
“No, just you,” Techno told him. “I can’t just leave. I’m still the king, even if the palace is gone.”
“Wh- Techno, you’ll die!”
“Maybe not.”
“No,” Wilbur snapped. “No, I’m not losing you, too!”
“I can’t leave.”
“Then I’ll.. I’ll… I’ll stay with you!”
Techno shook his head. “You can leave. And you should.”
“When I said I wasn’t leaving without you again I meant it.”
“Well, I meant it when I promised Phil I’d keep you alive!” Techno exclaimed. “That was the very last thing he asked. I’m not disobeyin’ his last wish.”
Tears welled in Wilbur’s eyes. “I don’t want to leave you.”
Techno smiled a little at the irony of it all. “And I’m telling you that you have to.”
“I- fuck!” Wilbur cried. “You have to live, okay? You have to run away if you don’t see a way out. I won’t go far, just to the next city over. And you better come and get me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Wilbur poked him in the chest. “Don’t. Fucking. Die. You got that?”
“But if I do-”
“Don’t-”
“But if I do,” Techno continued stubbornly. “You can’t follow me. Don’t let them find you. One of us has to make it out of this mess.”
“Two of us will.”
“Okay,” Techno said softly, hoping he wasn’t lying. “Now, go.”
Wilbur hugged him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“I love you,” he whispered. “I never said that enough before.”
Techno held him tightly for one more moment. “I love you, too.” He let go and took a deep breath, staring at the burning palace. “I have to fix this. The soldiers need me to lead them.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want me to stay?”
“Positive.” Wilbur took a step toward leaving, and for the first time Techno had ever seen, hesitated. “Go, Wilbur.”
“See you soon.”
Techno laughed quietly to himself as he watched his twin run away. He’d said soon. They’d be together again before they knew it.
Techno didn’t find himself believing it.
The city was a warzone dusted in ash. Techno fought through it like a whirlwind, sword slashing through enemies with ease. He almost couldn’t feel the wounds they inflicted on him in return. The tide of Essempi soldiers was practically limitless—for every one that Techno cut down, two more seemed to appear. He saw very few Empire soldiers still alive.
Techno wanted to follow Wilbur. He really did. But he was in no condition to do anything besides fight. After taking on a few dozen enemies, he was injured everywhere a sword could reach, including places that didn’t bode well for his odds of living. He wanted to run away and find his brother, but kings fought until the very end. Just as Phil had promised: to the bloody end.
Techno was, in fact, very bloody at the end.
He didn’t see Dream until the battle was all but over. He marched into town on the back of a horse, positively pristine compared to everyone else around him. He held a crossbow.
Just like Tommy, Techno’s mind thought absently.
He was probably already bleeding out anyway.
The last thing he saw was Dream pulling the trigger.
—
Wilbur heard of his twin’s death from a stranger.
He heard of the fall of his country from a foreign soldier.
He heard of redemption from a face he should’ve known.
For some reason, he assumed he was the only one left that knew where his family was buried. That was quickly proven incorrect when he returned after all was said and done to find not only a third headstone for Techno, but someone mourning at it. She looked up at him and waved with a sad smile.
“You’re Prince Wilbur.”
Wilbur blinked. “And you are…?”
“Niki,” she said. “I was a soldier for the Empire. Barely escaped with my life, but…” she pointed to Techno’s grave. “Had to make sure he was with his family. I helped him bury the other two—he said that was what he wanted.”
“Thank you,” Wilbur told her genuinely. “I wish I could've been there to help.”
I wish I could’ve been there at all.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Wilbur sat down, staring at the names of his brothers and father. “I miss them.”
“So do I, in a way.” Niki picked at the cuffs of her sleeves as she spoke. “I didn’t know any of them particularly well, honestly. But they were all kind when we spoke, and they had a beautiful country. It’s not the same without them. The people don’t love Dream like they did your father, or Techno, or Tommy.” She paused. “Or you.”
“The people barely know me.”
“But they do,” Niki insisted. “You’ve been to almost everywhere in the Empire. People don’t always realize who they’re talking to, but they know you. They see you as almost like them. They respect you.”
“So?” Wilbur asked. “The Antarctic Empire is gone.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“It doesn’t have a ruler.”
Niki raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t it?”
“Dream doesn’t count.”
“No, but you do.”
Wilbur laughed bitterly. “I don’t count, either. I was never around much.”
“But you’re a Minecraft. You never lost the title of prince. In my eyes, the moment Techno died, it was you that became king, not Dream.” Niki’s eyes were deadly serious. “If you decided you wanted to be king, you’d have the whole empire on your side. They’d fight Dream for you.”
“Last time the Empire fought Dream, it lost,” Wilbur scoffed.
“Because last time, they didn’t have hope.” Niki gestured to him. “With you, they would. You’re a symbol that all isn’t lost.”
All certainly felt lost. Wilbur’s whole family was dead and buried in the ground.
“I’m no king, Niki.”
“I think you are. And I bet your family thought the same.”
You’d be a great king.
Wilbur looked away from her awkwardly. “I was never supposed to be king.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t be.”
Wilbur put his head in his hands. He could practically hear Techno in his ear, encouraging him that he could do anything. He owed it to them, didn’t he? He owed it to them to keep their empire, their legacy, alive. Dream had killed them for the land. Wilbur had to avenge that. He had to keep the Minecrafts on the throne of the Antarctic Empire.
“You really think,” he said slowly. “That people would stand with me?”
“I know they would,” Niki assured him. “I will.”
“You will, huh?” Wilbur remarked with a laugh. “Well. I suppose I’d better start being a king now, then, hm?”
“Oh!” Niki grabbed something from her bag and held it out to him. “Techno had this when he died. I thought you might want it.”
Wilbur gingerly took the king’s crown from her hands. It belonged on Phil’s head—it’d been strange to see Techno wear it, even though he was the king. And if Wilbur was going to be the king…
He hesitated. A gust of wind blew through the grove, and he could almost hear Tommy’s admonition of fucking do it already! in the way it whistled.
Wilbur took a deep breath and put on the crown.