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A small piglin was rifling through an attic when the door opened.
“There you are!” Tommy climbed up the ladder and shook out his wings. The hybrid didn’t show his wings often, as they were bright and tended to get attention (especially from monsters), but Micheal likes them.
“Mimi!” The toddler sat up and reached for the bird. “Wings!” Micheal’s vocabulary is slightly limited, Tubbo thinks he may be autistic, Tommy says he’s just new to English.
“How in the world did you get up here? I mean Ranboo told me you learned to climb ladders, but I could have sworn I shut the door…” Tommy trailed off, walking up to the piglet. “You know I’m supposed to be watching you, right? That's hard when you wander off.” Tommy lifted the three-year-old and bopped his nose. “You think you could stay still for a while, hm? For Uncle Tommy?” The zombie piglin giggled.
“What were you looking through anyways?” Tommy said, more to himself than anything else. Micheal pointed to an open binder and made grabby hands. Tommy sat down and placed the child next to him.
“Papa an’ Dada!” Micheal said happily, pointing to a picture in the photo album. It was a picture of Tubbo and Ranboo at their wedding. Tommy couldn’t help but smile at how happy they looked in the photo.
“Yeah, those are your parents! That’s the day they got married.” Tommy explained, showing the Netherian more of his parents' wedding photos.
“Married?” Micheal asked. Tommy smiled at how bad the poor kid’s English was.
“Yeah, two people get married when they love each other very much. Some people get married as friends, but most people get married as lovers.” Tommy explained, pulling Micheal into his lap and placing the book where Micheal could see it.
“Are you married, Mimi?” Micheal asked, looking up at Tommy’s face questioningly.
Tommy laughed and smiled at the piglin. “Oh nono, I’m not married. I don’t like people in that way. I’m aromantic, like Techno. Except while Techno is aroace, I’m just aro.” Tommy ruffled his wings with pride as he told the child about his sexuality.
“Arrow? Like bownarrow?” Micheal asked again.
“No, aro, as in aromantic. It means I don’t feel romantic attraction. You know how your parents love each other very much?” Tommy asked, earning a nod from the piglet. “Well, I don’t love people like that. I love people differently. I love Tubbo but as a brother. I love Ranboo but as a friend. I don’t want to marry them, but I do want to spend time with them. I think that’s really all love is, or at least that’s all I need it to be.” Tommy spilled, lost in thought, before turning back to Micheal.
“Love me?” The boy asked, pointing at himself.
Tommy smiled. “Of course I love you! As soon as Tubbo stops treating you like rice paper, I’m going to teach you so many pranks!” He said, nuzzling the zombie piglin's face.
Micheal giggled. A noise came from downstairs and Tommy turned his head to the ladder. Micheal followed his gaze. Another noise followed, and Tommy stood up.
"Let's go downstairs, okay? I think your cousin is awake," Tommy has learned to be good at hiding his emotions, for various reasons, but now he hid his nervousness from his nephew.
As new parents often do.
"Shroud?" Micheal tilted his head and perked his ear.
"Mhm," Tommy said, opening the attic door. "You can take the book if you want, I'll show you some more pictures, mkay?"
Micheal grabbed the book and followed his uncle downstairs. Tommy was already next to the crib and holding his son. Micheal ran over, still holding the album.
Looking down at his arms, Micheal held the book out to his cousin. "Pictures!" He said excitedly. Tommy laughed and Shroud stared blankly.
"You want to hold your cousin while we look?" Tommy asked, ruffling the pigling's hair. Micheal laughed and nodded. "Alright, let's go to the couch."
He placed the baby carefully next to Micheal. Shroud was ten months old, but being a spider he aged differently than humans. Shroud crawled into his cousin's lap and looked up at him.
The baby cooed in the way babies do, smiling at his older cousin.
"Micheal, can you hold him while I get your potion?" Tommy asked, earning a nod.
Upon returning, Tommy traded the glass bottle for the book in Michael's hands. "Okay, what do you want to learn about?" He asked as Micheal drank the potion, a mix of healing and reverse fire resistance. (cold resistance)
"Mm, that one!" He pointed to a photo that Tommy barely recognized. It was an old family photo, from when Fundy was the same 'age' and Tommy and Tubbo (do all mobs age fast?) "Eapai!" The toddler pointed to a photo of Phil with a smile.
"Yep. Do you recognize anyone else?"
Micheal just stared at the photo until Tommy continued.
"Well, that's me, and that's your Dada!" Tommy said, pointing to each in turn. "And that one is Fundy. He's your cousin too!" Micheal pointed to Wilbur hesitantly. Tommy stared at the photo for a long moment.
"T-that's my brother. Your Uncle Wilbur," He said, smile gone.
"Uncle Bur?" The piglin asked, not fully understanding.
"He is a bad man, Micheal. I want you to stay away from him, okay?" Micheal recoiled at his Uncle's harsh tone, and Shroud reached out to his father with a whine, not quite comprehending that his father was the one scaring him. Flinching, Tommy lightened his tone and grabbed his baby. "I'm sorry Micheal, but I just want you to be safe, okay? If Wilbur found out you existed, well-" And he couldn't bring himself to finish.
Slowly, Micheal pointed to the sixth and last person in the photo. "Like… me?" He asked, recognizing the other piglin. Even slower, he asked, "Bad man?"
Tommy was again silent for a moment too long. "I don't think Techno is a bad man. But I don't want you talking to him without your Papa, okay? Some people on this server are much too dangerous."
Micheal nodded, looking back at the photo. "Mimi, Dada, Eapai, Wiba, Techie, Fundy," He said, pointing to each in turn. Tommy smiled at all the names.
Photo after photo, Tommy taught the boys about the history of his land. Tommy felt a sort of pride, looking at the two children. These are our next generation, he thought, smiling. They are the ones who are going to inherit this history. Our history.
And they will pass on our stories, for as long as this land exists.