Chapter Text
Dawn rose over the tundra, illuminating the brilliant white snow. Despite the large town and castle the sun was currently shining down on, silence was settled over the landscape, quiet and serene.
It was not the place you would normally expect to find two gods, especially the God of Violence and the God of Death, but it was their home nonetheless.
The gods had been friends for centuries, with their Aspects going hand in hand. Where Violence went, Death was almost sure to follow. Together, they had fought in hundreds of wars, painting the landscape red wherever they went.
Now, however, the two lived in relative peace in the castle in the Arctic.
About one hundred years prior, the God of Violence, Techno Blade, had decided he was tired of constant bloodshed and battles. He was tired of fighting other people’s wars for the sake of killing, and tired of everything that came with it. It had been the same thing over and over for hundreds of years, and it was time to try something else.
He had complained to Philza Minecraft, the God of Death, about this, and Philza (or Phil as Techno called him) had told him to just go into retirement. Phil hadn’t thought Techno would actually do it, but the next day he had left, vanishing to a tundra hundreds of miles away.
This tundra had housed an empire once, over two hundred years ago, under the harsh rule of two emperors. Techno and Phil had helped take it down, destroying the army and killing the rulers. It wasn’t until one hundred years later that Techno returned to the decimated Antarctic Empire, deciding to create something rather than destroy. Phil had joined him a few years later.
Together, they had rebuilt the ruined castle. There were several monsters that had spawned in the decrepit stone castle, the runes that prevented them from spawning long worn out and ruined. They repaired those first, then focused on the structure of the building. Once they finished it, they decided to take up residency in it. After that, they decided to restore the town that lay just outside it, slowly repairing and rebuilding each house and business.
It had only taken a few years and gossip from wandering traders that had stumbled upon them for people to begin traveling to the tundra, curious as to whether or not two gods were actually restoring an empire that they themselves had decimated. When it became clear that that was indeed what was happening, people began to settle, taking up residence in the restored houses, building their own if necessary.
The people had attempted to get Techno and Phil to proclaim themselves rulers of the newly restored Antarctic Empire, but both had adamantly refused. Both had seen what monarchs and governments would eventually do, and neither wanted any part of it.
They renamed the town simply to the Arctic, stating that no one would be in charge. The people were surprisingly okay with this, happy to simply have someplace safe that they knew would be guarded by the Blood God and the Angel of Death.
(The nicknames had changed over the centuries, but these were ones that the two were fond of, Phil because it made him less terrifying and Techno because it made him moreso.)
That morning, Techno woke up as the sun rose, something he didn’t do very often. Normally, it would be midmorning at least before he rose, as he tended to stay up later in the night.
(Phil always teased him about this, calling him a night owl. Techno would always shoot back with the fact that, since Phil was the one with large wings as black as the night, he was closer to an owl than Techno was. Phil would always just grin and respond by saying that he was an “early bird”. That tended to follow with Techno calling him a ‘bird brain’, and then various insults would be exchanged for an unreasonable amount of time.)
Techno tried to fall back asleep, but after half an hour of fruitless tossing and turning, decided to give up. The voices in the back of his head were buzzing too much. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he got the faintest sense of excitement.
Over the centuries, rumors had spread far and wide about the voices in Techno’s head, people theorizing as to what they were. Some thought that the god was just crazy, driven mad by the violence he took part in. Others said they were the spirits of fallen soldiers, killed by the god himself.
Techno himself wasn’t quite sure what they were, but whenever he asked, they would just cackle. He had given up asking a long time ago. Instead, he worked to keep them contained in his head, except when he went into battle. He could always hear them, a low, constant humming in the back of his mind, but they had gotten easier to ignore after enough practice.
Trying his best to ignore them now, he stretched and got out of bed, making his way over to his closet. He pulled out a thick tunic and pants to wear, both light blue. He added a belt dotted with rubies and a thick blue cloak with golden clasps and red accents. The cloak was lined with snow white fur, adding to the warmth of it.
As a Piglin hybrid, the tundra wasn’t perhaps the best place to settle. His body was always prepared for a scorching hot climate, and if he were mortal, he might not have been able to survive for long in the biting cold. However, since he had gained immortality with his godhood, Techno decided to take the biome as a challenge.
Cloak securely fastened, Techno walked over to a large cabinet on his wall, using his key to unlock it. Gold glittered at him once the door was opened. Over the course of his long life, Techno had mostly learned how to control any of his hybrid instincts, but one remained that he hadn’t bothered to try and reign in, and that was a Piglin’s love of gold. Slipping on his rings, earrings, and necklaces, he looked over his collection of crowns, trying to decide which one to wear today.
Even though Techno had declined to rule over the Arctic, he still liked to wear a crown. He had dozens of them, each from a king he had overthrown. His most prized was an elaborate gold one decorated with many different jewels, thrown on with little rhyme or reason. It had been from the first king he had overthrown. The outside of the crown was polished and pristine, but the inside of the crown still had a bloodstain from when the wearer had been killed. Techno had kept it that way purposefully, liking the gold and blood together.
However, that crown was reserved for battle, so instead he chose a simple golden one with no jewels. Pinning it to his hair, Techno closed the cabinet and turned to the wall, where the Blood God’s Wrath rested.
The blade was long and thin, but wide. The netherite shined, runes carved into the blade for each enchantment. The hilt appeared to be solid gold, but iron was hidden underneath since gold was too soft a metal to adequately support the netherite blade.
However, three jewels adorning the hilt were the true beauty of the sword. On the cross guards, two small, teardrop shaped, glittering diamonds sat opposite each other, and a large, deep teardrop ruby adorned the pommel. They were symbolic to Techno, the ruby representing the blood the blade had drawn, the diamonds the blood the blade had yet to shed. A reminder of his past, and a warning for those crossing him in the future.
Techno debated whether or not to bring the sword with him, before deciding that it wasn’t necessary for the day. Instead, he grabbed a simple dagger and clipped it to his belt.
Finally ready for the day, Techno decided that it would be a good day to make rounds around the town. It had been a while, it was probably best to make an appearance.
Making his way through winding corridors, Techno thought through what he was going to do for the day. In all honesty, Techno was becoming bored in the Arctic. Maybe in the next year or so Techno would ask Phil if he was ready to move on.
However, Phil had a kid, an eight year old boy named Wilbur, so he might be less likely to want to leave. Techno loved Wilbur, regarded him like a nephew, but the kid could be dramatic whenever things changed. Perhaps Techno would leave and Phil would follow when the kid was older.
Techno looked out the window, watching as oranges and yellows filled the sky. The new snow from the night before glittered.
Finally, he reached the grand front doors. Techno pulled them open, first the right and then the left, hearing the loud groan they created. They would remain open for the rest of the day, so he made sure that they wouldn’t move before stepping out of the entryway.
However, something stopped him. In front of him sat a basket covered in a thin red blanket that was in a tented shape thanks to the handles. Curiosity getting the best of him, and unable to smell any gunpowder that would indicate a bomb, he crouched down close to it. Normally, he would have approached this with more caution, but he was tired, and frankly, if this was a trap, then at least it would add some excitement to his life. Reaching out, he pulled back the ratty blanket.
Techno looked down into the basket, almost jumping in surprise when he saw what was in it.
A baby.
It had to be a newborn, it was too small to be any more than a few weeks old. There was a yellow blanket draped haphazardly around it, which Techno knew was wrong, small babies needed to be swaddled, right? The child’s skin was flushed pink, and on the top of its head, there were thin wisps of golden blond hair.
This gave Techno pause, and he fought every instinct to reach out and run his hands through the hair, the Piglin half of his brain telling him to grab the golden child and never let it go. However, his more rational brain told him no. He couldn’t take in this child, he didn’t particularly like kids. In fact, he had a reputation for hating orphans in particular.
Plus, he had promised himself that he would never get attached to mortals, it was too risky. He would outlive this child, and he didn’t want to have to live through that pain.
Just as he turned his head to call for a servant to take the child and find it a suitable home, perhaps a childless couple yearning for a baby, he heard a small noise come from the basket and turned to it. The baby was stirring, and as its eyes opened, Techno knew what would happen next.
Small children always cried or looked at him in fear. He supposed he was scary, almost seven feet tall with a broad, powerful frame. Even though he had long pink hair and shining gold jewelry, he knew that his tusks, pointed ears, and blood-red eyes would cause that baby’s face to crumple, and then he would have a crying child on his hands. He watched the child as it opened its eyes, bracing himself.
Slowly, the child’s eyes blinked open, and Techno was taken aback at the bright, blinding blue that was its eyes. Not even Phil’s were that blue, he mused. The child’s gaze turned to him, and Techno waited for the crying.
Instead, the child seemed to cock its head, as though studying him. It looked right into Techno’s eyes, and its gaze almost seemed curious.Then, it smiled.
Techno’s eyes widened at the small grin that adorned the baby’s face. Whatever reaction he had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that.
In a fast, uncoordinated movement, the child lifted its hands out, opening and closing the palms repeatedly. Techno observed it for a moment, stunned, before slowly raising his hand and lifting his index finger out, the rest closed in a fist.
The child snatched the finger, both hands unable to fully wrap it in its tight grip. Techno looked, mesmerized for a moment, before slowly jostling his finger up and down. The child’s gaze followed the movement, still keeping its grip tight.
Slowly, more curiously than anything, Techno lowered the finger to the child’s side, crooking it and running the knuckle down its left side and tummy softly. A delighted giggle burst from the child, clearly quite ticklish. Techno smiled softly, then did the same to the other side. Laughter erupted from the child still gripping the finger tight. Techno’s smile widened without his permission, and he lifted the finger up again, holding it in front of the child’s face. It seemed to study it for a moment, before pulling it quickly into its mouth.
Techno looked at it in mild shock as the child gummed at his finger, turning to let its bright blue eyes meet red. They both regarded each other for a moment, Techno letting the fondness of the moment fill him for a second.
Then, he realized what was happening and shook his head. This child wouldn’t be his, he would not be raising it, he couldn’t get attached. Quickly, but carefully, he untangled his finger from the child’s grip, stood up, and began to walk away.
He was mentally going through the list of people he knew that might know who would take the child in when he heard a wail. He turned quickly, afraid that the child had been hurt, but when he made eye contact, it quieted. He kept looking at it for a few moments, before turning once more and stalking off. Almost immediately, there was another cry, and this time when Techno turned around, he couldn’t see the child in the basket, meaning they were out of each others’ lines of sight.
The baby seemed to cry harder, and Techno remembered vaguely that babies had no concept of object permanence. As far as the child was aware, Techno no longer existed, and this was clearly distressing to it.
Techno had a moment of internal debate, before walking back over, kneeling in front of the basket again.
“Sh, sh, it’s alright, I’m here,” he said softly, and the baby quieted. It turned its blue eyes back to Techno, and seemed to calm quickly. Techno looked at it for a moment more, and sighed as he knew what was going to happen next.
“You’re mine now, aren’t you?” he muttered, reaching for the child, pulling the blanket tight around it as he pulled it out of the basket carefully. “You aren’t gonna give me a choice.”
The baby cooed happily, likely from finally being picked up, but it almost sounded like it was agreeing with him, letting him know that this baby had found its guardian, and there was no escape now.
Well, his brain supplied, it can’t be an orphan if it has a father.
Techno let out another sigh, standing up carefully as he pulled the child to his chest, making sure to support its head and neck, both of which fit into one hand. He heard a soft gasp and turned, seeing one of the maids take in the scene before her.
“This child was left on the doorstep sometime in the night,” he explained in a gruff voice. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“Are you wanting me to find someone to take it in? I know a few couples that might be willing to…”
“No,” Techno said, cutting her off. “I will be taking the child in. I will, however, be needing some supplies.” The woman looked stunned, but quickly nodded.
“I can fetch some milk from the kitchen, and I’ll see that some people grab things from the market. What all will you be wanting us to fetch?” she asked. Techno appreciated this woman.
“Some diapers, clothing for a newborn, bottles, and a crib for now. Anything extra can be gotten at a later date. I will compensate those that buy the items from the market,” he said. The woman nodded.
“Where would you like the nursery to be? I would recommend the West wing, there are more spare rooms there for nurses. It may take a few days to find a nurse, but we need to know where to put the crib,” she said. Techno debated for a moment.
“Put the crib in my room, the child’s nursery will be the room next to mine,” he said.
The maid looked struck dumb, and Techno couldn’t say he blamed her. He was surprised at his decision too.
But looking down at the golden child in his arms, he knew that he would be the one to raise it. He would be the one to spend time with it, to soothe it when needed. This would be his child, not some nurse’s. This child had chosen him, and it would feel like a betrayal to try and pawn it off to some stranger to raise. He would be a father in more than just name, he vowed at that moment.
Finally, the maid nodded her head, and swiftly walked in the opposite direction. Techno watched her go for a moment, before a babbling coo brought his attention back to the small bundle in his arms. The child was struggling a bit, attempting to get its arms out of the blanket. Curious, Techno allowed one arm out of the bundle, and immediately the hand wrapped around a lock of hair that had been resting on Techno’s chest just above the child’s head.
He hissed at the (surprisingly strong) tug that came a moment later.
“No, no,” he mumbled, bringing the hand not supporting its head to the child’s fist. “Don’t pull, just hold it, no pulling.”
He tucked his hand back when it seemed the child understood, then made his way back to his chambers. Someone else would have to take care of the basket, it wasn’t his priority at the moment.
He walked back to his room, careful not to jostle the child too much, but it didn’t seem that interested, having fun playing with his hair. When they finally made it back to the large, ornate chambers, Techno paused.
He debated what to do for a moment, before finally crawling onto the middle of his bed and setting the child down. He untangled his hair from the child’s hand, much to its displeasure, tucking the piece behind his ear before pulling off the yellow blanket. A rustle caught his attention, and that’s when he noticed the small piece of paper pinned to the baby’s shirt, previously hidden by the blanket. Techno unpinned it and pulled it to his face, reading the small handwriting.
Please take care of him.
Him. The child was a boy.
The piece of hair fell from where it was tucked behind his ear, and the child, the boy, his son, grabbed it, gripping it tight in his little hands. Techno smiled fondly, before raising his hand to the boy’s scalp, slowly running his thumb through the golden wisps.
“Hm, now all you need is a name,” he muttered. The boy’s gaze raised to meet his, and Techno huffed in amusement. “Something strong, a good hero’s name. Perhaps an ancient hero?” Techno’s gaze turned towards the book of ancient mythology he had been reading the night before.
His mind quickly went through all of the stories, scrapping names such as Heracles and Icarus. He almost settled on Perseus, before another story he had read recently popped into his mind.
“Theseus,” he whispered, still stroking the boy’s scalp in a way that seemed to be soothing him to sleep. “Theseus Thomas Blade.”
Theseus looked up at him sleepily, eyes blinking slowly, and Techno felt his heart clench.
“You’re mine now,” he whispered softly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of the boy's, of Theseus’ head. “You’re my son, Theseus, and I won’t ever let any harm come to you. I swear it on my blade.”