Chapter Text
He wasn’t sure just how exactly he was made, just like anybody else, but he does know who he was created by. He’s sure that there is sunshine threaded into his skin and hair, and that the winds he loves to join were put into his bones. It is why he always longed to be in the sky; he thinks it must be. But despite the riches of the blue in the sky in his glowing eyes, he hadn’t been made with as much care as his fellow angels. He realized that the day he met Her.
He had just finished one of his very own creations, something that made his heart warm. An island of skies that rivaled the very grounds that the Creator made. Back then, angels were allowed to roam and do as they please. They were something new, and the gods quietly watched as the few winged creatures explored the earth they were put on. Philza had never encountered another angel, but he didn’t dwell on such things. He wanted to explore as much of this new place he was put on as he could. He wanted to create as much as his hands could allow. He traveled between the hellish realm of the Nether and the oldest lands of the End where he had first awoken. But no, this creation was on the middle ground, the Earth.
And just like the rains fell from the skies, he had fallen, fallen, fallen. It had been an accident to fall such a height, something silly that should not have mattered to higher beings, but it did to him. His feathered limbs had hurt as he had fallen from the sky and collided with the solid ground: the very ground he had stolen from to make his own islands, his own little world. As he struggled to stay awake, to breathe, he wondered if it was the Creator’s punishment for wandering too far, for taking too much. He expects to see Him despite getting no answers before, but no, he sees someone else.
“Oh you poor thing.”, A lovely voice says. He blinks. What appears to be a giant woman with a veil from her grand hat covered the beings face. She was peering down at him curiously. The ground he was on was unfamiliar, nothing like the grasses and greens he had come accustomed to. It felt like he was on nothing and everything at once. He gasps at the goddess before him. She must be with the power She exudes.
“Do not be scared.”, She soothes him and Philza nods, pulling himself off from the ground. He manages to stand, all pain that permeated before seeming nothing compared to the task at hand. He bows slightly, taking his green hat off of his head and holding it to his chest.
“I apologize. I do not know how I got here.”, He stammers slightly. He curses himself inwardly for his foolishness, but She doesn’t mind at all. She giggles, her hand reaching down and carefully scooping him into Her palm. He makes no move to escape, instead pulling his wings flat against his back so She can better carry him. She holds him up to look at him more clearly, and he feels his heart hammer at being close to such beauty.
“Silly angel. You nearly died.”, She says and Philza tilts his head.
“Died?”, He says uncertainly. Such concepts were not in the grasp of someone who was not part of the grand scheme of things. She nods, blessedly patient with his ignorance.
“Yes. Poor thing. He should have given you more than that, just as he has the others.”, She says with a roll of Her eyes and Philza can’t help but swallow at the causal way the goddess referred to the Creator.
“I feel fine though.”, He says honestly. He almost takes back his statement. If She said he was dead, then he must be. She must know much more than him. But before he can retract his statement she hums in understanding.
“Thankfully, you are much stronger than you appear, little angel.”, She says. “I had almost mistakenly taken you away too early from how close you were with death.”
“Taken me?”, He says. “I don’t think I would mind at all, my lady.”
“Oh my, a little charmer you are.”, She says with a laugh and he grins despite himself.
He feels his face growing hot, his heart beating too fast. Just what was this? He quickly tries to correct his mistake. “I did not mean to offend you!”
“You didn’t.”, She says amusedly and he sighs from relief. “I am the Goddess of Death. I take souls who have passed away in my realm and give them the fate they deserve.”
“I see.”, He says in awe. “You are very important then. I should be sorry I took your time.”
“But you’re not?”, She asks. He smiles despite himself.
“I’m afraid not. I would sooner impale myself to gain a moment more of your time.”, He confesses. She giggles again before she moves. Philza feels his eyes widen impossibly when she moves the veil out of her face, showing the most beautiful sight he has ever seen. More beautiful than sunrises or the vastness of the ocean. Purple eyes that only the endless sky of the End can hope to ever rival. How was he blessed enough to be able to see such a sight? He felt as if he could die right there.
“I heard of you angels, but you are quite interesting.”, She says thoughtfully. “Tell me how you landed yourself here..”
“Philza”, He finishes as She trails off. He’s so relieved that he doesn’t have to leave that he gets comfortable on her hand. Most would be frightened to be in the palm of Death’s hand, but not him.
They talk for what must be hours but feels like minutes. Time was never something precious to him as he had so much of it, but now in the presence of the goddess he felt like there just wasn’t enough of it. She let him talk about her creations. He tells Her about caverns he's made and the islands in the sky. He tells of sinking the water from the vast ocean to create his own little pocket of land surrounded by water. She does not tell him he's gone too far. She praises his accomplishments, and his heart feels as if it is melting wonderfully in his chest. He tries to get more information from Her, to know all and everything he can about the beauty. She is vague in many ways, but he learns that She enjoys sunsets and the very life she takes. Eventually, She must go back to Her duties and he mournfully nods.
"Oh don't pull a long face. I will find you again little angel, as you will find me.", She says as she leans down and presses a kiss onto the top of his head, blonde hair disheveled by the gentle touch.
"My lady-", He says but when he opens his eyes he sees he is lying on his back in the middle of grasses, the sky above him and a name whispered in his ear from the helpful winds. Kristin.
He pulls himself off the ground and buries his face in his hat, a smile on his face.
Kristin was true to Her word, pulling in the angel into Her realm at random, often catching him by surprise and drawing a chirp from his lips. She would laugh and call the sound adorable, and Philza would be too enamored by her to pretend to be upset at the surprise for too long.
He would take to finding gifts for her to keep on his person for these occasions. Flowers that are worth beseeching her eyes, and rare gems he has made into jewelry. And in return she would shower him in adoration and attention he surely must not deserve.
"My pretty angel. Always so hard at work. Be careful ok? As much as I love to see you, your life is important.", She says and although he doesn't completely agree he nods, because Her word is important.
He takes to praying to her in his spare time, thanking Her for all She does and telling Her of his plans. And miraculously, She listens to his every word. She recounts all that he says when they meet face to face, and his heart warms that someone so grand and beautiful bothered to remember.
It was a grand limbo. He would await to see Her, and She would hold him in the palm of Her hand like he was Her world. He wanted nothing to change in the world, but how foolish he was to think he had any control in that. After many centuries of making nothing besides the occasional birds and fish, the Creator suddenly created much more.
Humans were a strange thing. And along with humans came mobs of many sizes. Strange things with their strange languages and ways of doing things. They roamed the world along with the angels now, and for the first time in his life he saw Him.
They all were to report to Him. The winds told him so. Gods and angels alike came together to the realm in the skies only attainable to them. It was his first time in the realm of gods, and he felt uneasy at the numerous faces there. The gods stood tall, towering, as if they were pillars holding the realm up itself. It was almost ridiculous how small the angels looked beside them, as if the Creator never meant for them to be face to face at all.
The other angels, they stuck close, as if they had been talking amongst each other for centuries, somehow leaving Philza out of it all. Their conversations lilted and were hushed, their wings seeming to shield him away from their inner circle. He didn't mind. He was always in his own world with his creations, choosing stone and dirt to mold over visiting his peers. He can only recall a handful of times where he spotted them in the skies, never bothering to chase after them.
He catches Her looking at him, ethereal and grand even amongst the gods. She has her veil on, and his wings prickle with pride that he knows Her face. Maybe he was the only one amongst gods and angels who knew just how much more beautiful she was. He smiles at Her despite himself, and She offers him a wave. His heart swoops at the simple action amongst so many people. She was not ashamed of knowing him. Maybe it would be ok if he went with her. He takes a step to go and greet her, but stops when the skin on the back of his neck prickles.
He turns his head, meeting the red eyes of a tall being. He was a god, he must be with his grand size and an aura that Philza swears he can grasp from the very air. The god resembles the newly created Piglins he saw in the Nether. His broad shoulders carry a cape so red it looked as if it was newly dyed each second. He falters. He did not recognize the god. He almost wants to hide away from the intimidating gaze, but he quickly squashes down the feeling. The god looks away without saying anything and he goes over to Her, hoping he would be allowed to stay. He was not afraid, no, simply nervous at all the new faces or lack thereof.
She is speaking to someone else, but when She is done She smiles at him, he can feel it.
"My angel.", She says. Oh, how grand it is to think he may be Hers. He bows politely, out of a respect he longs to always show. She offers her hand and without thinking of the eyes that must be watching he hops into it on routine, his goddess picking him up ever so gently.
"Do you know why we're here?", He asks Her and she hums.
"Probably to do with the new lifeforms.", She says. "But he never bothers to tell us his plans."
And then as if He heard every word between the two, He spoke.
"Everyone.", He says. His voice is almost grating in its volume. Everyone looks to Him, his multiple wings glowing around him, one of the only gods to have such appendages. Philza blinks before looking away. The being in bright green and an unclear face almost hurt his eyes to look at. He would have thought someone who created everything would look a little better than that. He listens despite the harsh tones, the warmth of his goddess a comfort as he does.
"You might have noticed that things are more..populated as of late.", He begins. There's a few murmurings at such an obvious statement. "And with that, my plan can continue. They may not be as grand or important as all of you, but they don't need to be. I just need you to manage them."
"Heh?", Someone voices their discontent. Philza looks, the god who he caught staring earlier is speaking, his tusks slightly bared.
"The Blood God.", Kristin whispers helpfully into his ear. A grand title in the world with a lot more blood. He continues to speak.
"Look, I don't mind poking the beings in the Nether, they were of my own design after all, but all those other things..I won't be responsible for them.", The Blood God says while scratching behind his ear. His voice is deep and holds a sort of nonchalance even in the face of the Creator. Philza's eyes widen at the display of confidence, a small smile growing on his lips. This god was interesting.
"I don't think you get to decide my plans, Blade.", The creator dismisses snappily. "Blood runs through them all. You can't look away from your duties."
The Blood God’s, The Blade's, ruby eyes narrow at the statement. His mouth opens to speak and Philza’s eyes catch onto sharp teeth there, but the Creator continues even so.
"You all have names and titles. Domains of your own to do your duties. It was all given to you for a purpose, and this must be it. And angels..well, they were made for gods after all.”, He says. Something about the way He says it unsettles Philza. “I have allowed you all to roam the world, get used to your bearings for thousands of cycles. It’s only fair you do your part for the plan.”
“This should be interesting. Everything dies. I will have more work on my hands.”, His goddess whispers, something only meant for him to hear as the rest of the gods begin to speak over one another, ignoring the angels entirely. He hums. He never thought of it that way.
“I will help them survive.”, He says back.
“That sounds like a tough job. These new beings aren’t as sturdy as us.”, She says truthfully. He nods with understanding.
“I think I can steer them in the right direction. Sounds like that’s what He wants anyways. And..you will have less work.”, He says. “So I can continue to see your beautiful face more, so you can have more time to yourself to thrive and rest”, He doesn’t say.
“You’re too kind my angel. It’s adorable how much you care.”, She says sweetly. He feels his face do that thing again, the thing where it grows in heat and makes his cheeks red according to Her. He laughs despite his embarrassment.
“Nah.”, He dismisses. “Just doing my work.”
And work he did.
Like a resetting of the world, his life had shifted and stumbled. Angels were never meant to wander freely after all. They were never meant to create. That was a job for gods. No, they were meant to serve and do His bidding. Their wings were supposed to carry His plan out and lead the new life to balance, or whatever crap He told them as the meeting went on.
It had been a bitter pill to swallow. To him his wings meant freedom. To him his hands were something used to mold and shape lands into something more. But he did not mind. He would move his tired feet along. He had been put under the watch of Kristen, something he suspects She suggested. She was blessed in how much freedom She gave him, but he still had duties, and he still had a duty in his heart to her.
With the new role came more rules. He was to help the humans, but never was he to show them the different realms of the land. No, He made it very clear that the lands of the overworld were all their eyes were meant to see.
The new beings were..interesting. It had been an odd shift to have souls around him when he only had the company of his goddess and the grass beneath his feet before, but he learned how to deal with them very carefully.
The humans as the creator called them were a cold bunch, ones that oddly resembled Philza the most despite their lack of wings and claws. They did not have sharp teeth or glowing eyes like his, but they still held a violence in their veins as if their very skin was not thin. As if their blood could not be so easily shed.
It had sickened Philza the way they so easily killed each other out of fear. At first they fought over food, so the angel came in and offered them seeds to grow to make more. The knowledge he had gathered from years of traveling had benefited him as he showed them how to sow the Earth and gentle plants into crops. Many were wary of him, scared of his glowing eyes and wings, but those that listened soon realized that his knowledge was not something to be taken lightly. The people would seek him for advice, which he would gladly give. The children would lightly touch his feathers, and be in awe of him. They were his favorite of the humans due to their chaotic but kind nature.
Soon with his teachings the humans had created their own farms and abundance of crops, but that was still not enough for them to keep ahold of their three lives. He had foolishly thought they could learn to better manage their lives when they had enough food. He helped them learn how to build their own shelters. He even helped them learn how to travel through making boats so they can find more land to make homes on. But that still wasn’t enough. Nothing seemed to ever be enough for them.
It was frustrating to no end how something small would set the humans off. They would kill each other for titles and things. Things should not matter more than life. Life should not be something that others could take away so easily.
Kristen, bless Her heart, was not angry with him for failing his promise to help. Plucking the souls of the dead was busy work, but She still found time to scoop up Her angel and bring him into Her realm when she had time to spare.
“I’ve tried everything. They just won’t listen.”, He says bitterly as he sits in Her hand. “I’ve shown them how to live off the land, but they don’t seem to just want to live. They keep making problems for themselves out of nothing.”
“I guess being human is more complex than just living.”, She says thoughtfully. She strokes her finger on the side of his face and he leans into the comforting touch. “But they’ll see. They’ve only been around for a thousand years now right? They will learn. Pretty sure they would be all extinct now if it wasn’t for you.”
“You can say that again.”, He says with a bit of a laugh. She smiles, and his hopelessness dissipates. She knew more than him after all, so She must be right. They will earn. They will learn how to live without killing and see the value of their lives as well as others. And then, he will find time to stay with Her indefinitely.
It was a nice thought to have. Something to hold onto as he continued to weave his way to through the growing civilizations of man. He offered guidance and help with what he knew, it was all he could do. But that fleeting ambition was stripped away from him quickly. There was someone out there, something higher than him, that did not share his goals.
For now, he called this being the person on the violin. The person on the violin did not care for such things as lives. He's never caught sight of them, but he's heard the instrument they so beautifully play. Its sharp notes were haunting and distant before something, someone, would dip his hooved hand into the folly of human lives. The first time it happened, the angel himself had been frozen. He did not know what had made such a melody, but what followed was nothing short of a massacre.
The unrest that had been growing in the largest settlement of the humans suddenly grew into something fierce and with teeth. He did not know what a war was before that moment, and he only watched. Watched as these beings tore into each other, claiming sides and causing bloodshed. They killed without consideration of the people who watched, who suffered, who died. It had been about who would be leader of them he had figured out after the battle was done. He didn’t dare to interfere or to choose a side. That wasn’t his place. But as he looked at the people struggling to pick themselves up, to plan their next attack, he knew whoever played those haunting notes had surely caused this. They wanted the streets to be bathed in red.
And with war came a new god poking his head, one that only worsened the politics humans have created for themselves. The God of Wealth with his great horns and horizontal pupils introduced a thing called currency, and the being on the violin seemed to play his haunting notes more and more as more humans killed and ravaged over the next hundreds of years.
It made him want to stop his efforts in frustration. Why should he continue to try when these gods did not care about their own duties? Why should he try to help them when his efforts would be squandered. He tried for a hundred years more, just to keep that promise in his heart to help his beloved, but something in him snapped one day.
He was used to many humans being scared and weary of him. In fact, he quite preferred it that way so they could keep their distance mostly, but there was always the few who believed that they were a god, that they could defeat an angel. He has killed his fair share of few foolish men who believed they could do so. He had no qualms over getting rid of these few due to their insolence, but these were always a few at a time at most. Never a village, never an army.
The village he was helping that day were unusually weary of him. They had stayed their distance, and when Philza tried to help show them how to farm honey which he was especially proud of learning, they had backed away from him. He was ok with it. He had grown used to people whispering at his presence, pointing to his wings talons. He had taken to hiding his halo in the hopes to ease them, but even that wasn't enough to ease them. Mothers hushed and pulled their children inside at the sight of him, and the men stared him down as if they had a chance to do any damage to him. The weight if his sword on his hip was heavy.
"Leave.", One man he went up to told him.
“I’m only here to help mate.”, He had tried to reassure them. He spoke their language almost perfectly now, even coming to love their newly formed words. The man pushed him, something so laughably pathetic compared to an angel, but his blood seemed to freeze when he heard the sound of a violin song fill the air. Its haunting notes were taunting, almost as if the thing playing it wanted him dead.
He felt the eyes of all the humans in that village suddenly stare at him, their gaze prickling at his skin.
“We said to leave, you monster!”, Another said. Someone grabs his wings and he practically hisses as he suddenly flaps the appendages hard to knock them back, their body falling to the ground which causes a string of horrified gasps and shouts. He hisses as they come near him, surrounding him.
"Are you really going to do this? I'm the one trying to help you!", He says in frustration but they do not listen. He has no qualms slaughtering the people who dared to try and touch him, his green robes shattered with fresh blood. It should be sickening how easy it was for him to kill them, to end their lives and paint the ground with fresh blood, but what else was he to do? He wouldn't spare an ounce of blood for people who did not even see his efforts, see that he just wanted to help.
Eventually the bodies stop coming at him, the people still there and alive simply watching him with terror, unable to move or even run away and hide in their horror. He feels remnants of his true form on his face, his eyes growing much too bright to be something remotely human looking.
"Please", A broken sob startles him. He sees a woman on her knees holding a child close. "Please stop"
He stares at her. He wants to tell her that he would not hurt her. That he only does harm to those who do harm to him. But he doesn't waste his words. To them he was only a monster, angels are.
He walks away numbly, his head fuzzy and heart confused. What was he to do if they would not listen? How is he to ever help people when someone, something, wants bloodshed. He feels a pair of eyes. He looks.
Overlooking a far off hill is something grand. Something red billows behind them, as if the helpful winds were warning the angel to stay back. He knows at once who and what this is. It was the Blood God, the being on the violin.
He does not know where the sudden rush of rage comes from. Something that has been simmering in him for a long time spews up suddenly as he takes off, his wings cutting through the air as he lands in front of the god.
He should have been scared. He should have remembered that gods were above angels. But he chose not to believe in that as he held his weapon in his hand and striked.
The Blood God appeared as if he expected such an attack. He blocked it easily and with a force Philza had never felt before an axe glowing with many enchantments came down. He blocks it with his sword, struggling for a moment to hold back the brute force before he uses his wings to kick off and push the god a few paces away.
"Why!", He says. It's all he can push out when he is dancing in the fight of a god, swinging his sword and being met with blocks easily. The god does not answer him. He evades a few swings using his short height to his advantage. "You're making them fight aren't you!"
"I'm not making them do anything.", The deep voice answers, his annoyance shining through. The ground shakes at each move they make, the dirt beneath their feet becoming undone with each swipe they make. The Blade narrows his eyes, leaning down as their axe and sword meet, a struggle forming between the metal caught against each other. "They want to fight. They want to do anything to get what they want. All I do is let their inhibitions go."
"You're meant to help those in the Nether! Fuck off of my mission!", Philza spits out, not caring that he's using human curses in between the ancient tongue they both speak.
"The Nether is nothing compared to the Overworld. Your humans have every resource they can think of. My people have nothing.", The God says.
"And how is that my fault!"
"Since when did you choose to take offense for Him? These people aren't yours, you didn't make them, He did.", Techno says and Philza's face feels red from how much the rage and adrenaline makes his head spin.
"Because He doesn't do shit for them!", He yells as he heaves, trying to get at least one hit on the god, he knows he can, but the axe comes down and suddenly he is knocked back onto the floor, his wings flailing in a hopeless attempt to balance himself, a squawk falling from his lips.
The god stands over him. He probably expected him to beg for mercy, to ask for forgiveness, but he glares.
"Go ahead. End me. It will be a mercy to see Her.", He says. Something on his arm burns and he looks and sees a fresh wound, blood oozing out. He tries not to look at it with wide eyes. It was something unfamiliar, but he has no fear. The god frowns.
"Kill? You're an angel.", He says as if that meant something. Philza frowns before he remembers those words his goddess said when he first met Her.
"I only have one life.", Philza admits. Maybe it was a foolish thing, but the gods eyes widen in surprise. He hesitates before he steps back. Philza hated it. He was pitying him. He stands.
"This isn't over. I've spent all my time helping them. You can't just come here and fuck it all up because you are angry at Him!", Philza spouts. "He hasn't visited them once! Some even doubt His existence now for fucks sake! I'm the only one helping them!"
"And what good has that left you?", The god says. He waves his grand axe away, the object disappearing in the air and waiting for him to call it again. "I've seen what you do. Is it really worth it?"
"It's my role. Why don't you go focus on yours? Or do you think you're exempt because you're a god?"
"I think because I'm a god I should have a say in my so-called role.", The Blade spits out.
"If your people are so starved for resources then take them to them!", Philza says and the god shakes his head.
"Nothing grows in the Nether. There is no water or sun. It's not possible. They are strong. The Piglins survive even still, but it's not easy.", He says and Philza pauses at the words. It clicked in his head.
He was bitter about the rules. The ones regarding keeping the dimensions separate. He laughs. How could he not? Here the Blood God was complaining and lashing out over the rules, but he still would not dare break them.
"Mate, don't act like I'm a coward when you are a bigger one than me.", He says. The god stands up straighter, but he doesn't care. He turns away. The blood on robes was stiff and uncomfortable. He just wanted to wash it away along with this anger still burning inside of him. "I've had enough of this. If you interfere again I'll kill you. Fuck off with your violin."
"You're really telling me what to do?", The god says with a laugh. But it's not a mocking one. It's not something acknowledging that Philza was lower than him. It was almost disbelieving, and for a split second Philzas expression almost breaks into a smile.
"Fine then. I'll be seeing you again Philza.", The god says his name plainly, his name said even though it wasn’t shared. He glances back and the space there is empty. The ground crumpled beneath his feet and the warm blood on his arm the only indication he was really there.
"Stupid.", He mutters to himself as his feathers fluff up in his annoyance. He puts a hand over the sleeve of his arm stained in red. A couple of crows flying down and landing on his shoulder to talk to him about what happened.