Chapter Text
The crunching of the horse’s hooves against the snow as it strutted forward was the only noise to be heard that day aside from the light breeze that chilled the middle-aged man until he felt constant shivers down his back. He knew at that moment he really should have brought an extra jacket, maybe some armor— anything to combat the chilly climate. What single jacket he had brought he had given to his adopted daughter for her to wrap around her body and protect her from the cold. Snow was fluttering down from the darkened sky, and although he knew it was day, it was still nearly dark enough to be considered night. Thankfully, monsters weren’t appearing. Perhaps it wasn’t dark enough just yet. He just hoped it’d stay that way.
The silence aside from the hooves and wind was broken at last when the young redhead began to pat the horse softly yet firmly in a repetitive movement, creating some form of a beat. He wasn’t sure if it was a song she knew that she was mimicking or if she was just doing some improvisation.
“Are we there yet, dad?”
“Hah,” Ivor chuckled weakly, “not quite yet. You’re gonna have to be a bit more patient than that.”
“Weh,” The short child blew a raspberry from behind him. He felt her kick up her legs in mild annoyance, and she began to fidget around impatiently, stopping the rhythmic beat she had going on prior. “I get why it’s called the Farlands now! It kills you of boring before you even get there because it’s so far!!”
“We are almost there Petra, I promise.” He softened his voice even further. “And once we get you situated, you can do whatever you want.”
“And then can I get another sword!?” Petra jerked upward into a tall, upright sitting position, staring back at the man. Her eyes were now glistening in excitement.
Ivor peered back at her, attention drifting from the road ahead. The horse knew how to avoid obstacles well enough, so he knew he was safe to leave it on its own for a bit as it trotted on. “Hm, I don’t know. Last time I left you unattended with a sword you tore up all the bedsheets and cut yourself multiple times.” He elevated his hand to ruffle her hair softly, causing her to wince back with a whine. “You’ll have to show me you’re responsible enough to wield one without my supervision.”
“Wheeled?” Petra shrunk back into a slumping pose, “I’m never gonna become a fighter! I don’t even know what a wheeled is!” She pouted.
“W-i-e-l-d, it’s another word for hold. You’re holding a sword. Wielding a sword.”
“Oh.” She shrugged. “That’s weird. Why is there more than one word?”
“There’s more than one word for everything, Petra. You’ll catch on before you know it.”
“Words are weird.” Petra groaned. “I wanna punch things! That’s my language!”
Ivor laughed. He looked away from her and back toward the trail ahead. “I don’t think you should punch everyone you meet. That’s how you make a bunch of enemies.”
“Who cares? I may have a ton of enemies, but I still have the best dad ever!” She paused. “Aside from the long trips, you get a few points off your total best dad score!”
“Oh, a few points? How will I ever survive!” He went along with the joke, deep inside feeling like he was going to start sobbing over the fact she had just called him the best dad ever.
“You don’t!” She struck him in the side with her fist. Not that it hurt, but he could tell she put a bit of swing into it. “Orrr..! You could get your best dad points back by letting me wheel a sword!”
“Wield.”
“Wield a sword!” She corrected herself.
“Okayy, fine.” He sighed. “If I give you one will you promise not to tear everything up? The laboratory in the Farlands has limited supply.”
“Yeah yeah, I got it! Th—“
“And don’t hurt yourself either!”
“Yeah, I know! Thanks, dad!”
They went back to being silent.
Only for a moment, they stayed like that.
Then...
“Dad?”
“Hm?”
“Are we there yet?—“
Ivor slung the blanket over the bed. “There.” He turned to face his daughter. “If you need anything just holler for me, I’m gonna be researching in another room. And DON’T—“ He handed her a freshly crafted wooden sword, “—go outside. Monsters can spawn there when it’s dark enough and it’s stormy out today so the light will be filtering in from outside.”
“Kay.” Petra responded, waving around the sword with her hands, “Wow, it’s kinda heavy.”
“Compared to swords you’ll craft when you’re older? Not at all. That’s the lightest they come, and holding them when you’re older is gonna feel like a feather.”
“Cool.” Her eyes shined in awe. “And these can kill any monster?”
“Not as effectively as, say, a diamond sword.. but yeah. With enough swings you’re golden.”
“More like WOODEN!” She shouted out as she swung it ferociously in the air.
“Hey, not so careless!” He reminded her urgently, causing her to halt, “Don’t make me regret this, Petra.”
“Sorrryyyy.”
Ivor stepped forth and kneeled downward, pulling her into a hug. “It’s fine, sweetie. I just want you to be safe.”
“Wah! No huggies!” She strained away from Ivor. “I’m a fighter! Fighters don’t take hugs from anyone!” She blinked. “I’ll be safe, though! Don’t worry dad! Have fun with your boring research!”
“Hey! It’s not boring.” Ivor scoffed. “Potions can enhance how well you fight if you play your cards right.”
“I don’t need potions!” Petra insisted, “I’m gonna be the best fighter this world has ever seen NATURALLY!”
He chuckled, “Well, alright. Have fun with that.”
“I will!!”
Ivor shot her one last glimpse before exiting the room, leaving the door creaked open. Petra stood there for a moment, whirling her new wooden sword around. She glanced around the room, eyes stopping on one thing in particular.
The window.
Petra’s gaze swapped back and forth from the window and back to the slightly opened door. She slowly made her way over to the door and shut it, making sure it uttered no noise as she did so. Then she turned back to the window, a smirk beginning to plaster all over her face.
“I have a great idea.” She stated to herself confidently.
She peeked out the window, spotting multiple monsters crawling around in the dark. Her hands were twitching in excitement. “I can finally kill some real monsters...! I’m probably gonna be like.. the first 7-year-old to kill a monster ever!” She exclaimed in a hushed voice, hoping Ivor wasn’t close enough to overhear. “All I have to do is break this window!”
With a burst of determination and a swing of the sword, she clenched her eyes shut and sent the wooden sword slamming against the window. A loud thud erupted from the collision, but when she opened her eyes the glass was seemingly unaffected.
“Petra, what was that?” A distant call from Ivor sounded from beyond the door.
“Sorry!” She shouted back, hoping her voice was loud enough for him to hear. He didn’t respond afterward, thankfully; however, she knew that even if he came in to check, there was no physical evidence of her trying to break the window and escape.
“Okay, maybe tomorrow.”
“Dad?”
“Yes, Petra?” Ivor didn’t take his attention away from the brewing potions. “Sorry, I’m a bit busy right now.”
“I was wondering if you have a sign? An unused one? I want to make one.”
“Uhhmmm...” He tried to recall whether or not he had one all the while trying to continue focusing on the potions as they began to bubble at the surface. “I don’t think so. You can make one if you want. I have a chest with some tree wood in the room with all my supplies. It should just be labeled wood or something. You can grab what you need and make a sign or two. Six wooden planks in the top two rows and a stick in the middle of the bottom row on the crafting table.”
“Got it! Thank you!” Petra began to hop away cheerfully before halting right beside him. She watched the potions bubble and attempted to lean forward to get a closer look. Before she could, Ivor pushed her back softly with his arm.
“Don’t get too close. These things are boiling right now.”
“What are you making?” Petra asked.
“Uhh, just some healing potions.”
“Why?”
“Oh, well, I don’t know. I just like stocking up on all the different potions and these were running a bit low.”
“Do you just use them for healing yourself?”
Ivor shrugged, “Well, I suppose so. I used quite a few on you recently when you sliced yourself with a sword before we came here.” Petra chuckled awkwardly as she was reminded, but didn’t comment anything in return. “But I suppose it has more use than just healing.”
“What else does it do?”
“You know what? I can show you. As long as you promise not to wander off and stay where I can protect you.”
“Outside?”
“Yeah,” He nodded, “you’re too young to fight monsters, but it wouldn’t kill you to watch someone fight them. And I know how excited you get over fighting, so...”
“That sounds AWESOME!” Petra blurted out loudly, interrupting him, “I need to go make that sign still! I’ll be back! Thanks, dad!”
She zoomed off without warning, rushing out of the room and into the hall. She made her way into the supply room, maneuvering through the abundance of chests to find the one she was looking for.
“Spider eyes... string... gold? No, no... wait- does that say rotten flesh? Ew. Nope. None of that.” She read off the names aloud as she went along the long row of chests. Some of the things that were named she hadn’t even heard of. “What does this even say? Pris- priz— prisa— prizma— prizaline— shard thingies? Wow. Oh, hey! They’re like.. teal! I like that color!” She dashed to the next chest. “And what’s this?” She opened up the chest wide, peering in. “Wait... what?” They were all completely different items, all of which seemingly did not correlate with each other. “What is this?” She closed the chest and looked at the name. “Order of the Stone? What’s that?” She pushed away from the chest and moved onward, continuing her search for the wood-labeled chest. “That’s weird. I should ask dad when I get the chance. Oh! Hey! There it is!”
She dashed over to one of the chests and opened it up, revealing a bunch of wood planks.
“Score!” She cheered to herself as she yanked some out of the chest and rushed over to the supply room entrance where the crafting tables were placed. She set them all down beside her and began to pick them up one at a time and place them accordingly.
“Okay... one stick at the bottom and planks all on top... like.. this?” The blocks she’d set down came together to form not one, but three separate signposts. “Oh! Yes! I was right! Oh, but I only needed one...” She picked all of them up and stared them down as she set them away somewhere in her inventory. “Eh, guess I’ll just use all of them!” She sprinted back out of the supply room and into the room she’d seen Ivor last.
He had remained in place, but the only difference was that the potions had shifted color and were no longer heated up. “Are you done?” Petra asked as she ran up to him.
“Yeah, I’m ready to go. You ready?”
“Yeppers!”
Ivor beckoned Petra out the door and outside, making sure the child stayed close to his side and didn’t stray too far. She was clenching one of the signposts in her fists, her grip tightening as she stared ahead in awe. “Hey, when did that bridge get here?”
“I used to take that contraption we took yesterday to get to the building, but I figured a secure, sturdy bridge would be better now that you’re around. Just don’t look down and you’ll be okay.”
“Oh, kay.” She followed Ivor close behind as they stepped onto the bridge. Shortly after stepping onto the bridge, she commented, “I looked down.”
Ivor sighed.
They spent most of the walk in silence, aside from Ivor once again making Petra promise that she wouldn’t stray too far from his side. Petra began to get bored of the repetitive promising and instead began to try and switch the topic. “Hey, dad? What’s the Order of the Stone?”
Ivor flinched, halting in his steps.
“Where... did you hear that name?”
“One of the chests in the room was labeled that, but I looked in and it was just random stuff. What does it mean?”
“...I’ll tell you later.” Ivor completely disregarded the question. “Are you ready to see what the potions do?”
A bit taken aback by the complete dodge of the question, Petra was confused but didn’t comment further. “Uh, yep!”
They reached the end of the bridge and made their way over to the entrance (or rather exit) of the large maze that he had made.
“Do we have to go in there again?” Petra’s head tilted ever so slightly.
“Just enough to find some mobs. Wait here and don’t move.”
“Okay!”
Ivor disappeared into the maze, leaving Petra alone outside of it. She sat down on the grass and set down the signpost on the ground. She pulled out the wooden sword her dad had supplied her and began to etch letters into it while she waited.
“Finished one! That was fast.”
She whipped out the second one and began to carve into that one as well. She was able to take her time while she waited for her dad to reappear. Right after finishing the second one, she began to hear rapid footsteps approaching. She picked up the signposts and stood back up onto her feet, bracing herself for her dad to break out with a horde of undead monsters. What happened instead was rather underwhelming; Ivor reappeared with only two zombies trailing slowly behind him.
“You ready?”
“Yeah!”
He gripped onto one of the freshly made potions and chucked it straight toward one of the zombies, hitting it straight on the face and sending it hurtling toward the ground, the body sizzling away.
Petra stared on, eyes wide. “Healing kills monsters!?”
He tossed the other one at the remaining zombie, “Only the undead ones!”
“Wow. And one singular potion can knock one out?”
“Not a regular one, but a master potion maker such as myself specializes in finding the perfect balance of duration and effectiveness!”
“Are you the best potion maker? Like in the entire world?”
“I’ve yet to find someone who can best me.”
“Awesome! That’s gonna be me one day, but like for fighting!”
“I bet you will.” Ivor smiled softly. “Anyway, I got one more potion so I might as well find one more monster to wipe out before we head back. Sound good?”
“Yeah! I’ll wait here!”
Petra was able to finish up the last signpost before Ivor came back with one last zombie. He finished it off with ease and they headed back to the other side of the bridge and into the building they had previously stayed in.
Petra didn’t stop following Ivor once they got inside. She sat close to where he would brew all his potions, watching him in silence as he started to make more of the healing potions.
“Sooo... is it later enough? Can you tell me about the Order of the Stone thing now?”
Ivor couldn’t suppress the long, loud sigh that escaped his mouth. He sat down on one of the chairs that leaned against the table to rest as he spoke. “Are you sure about this?” His fingers tapped against the hard table anxiously. “The story of the Order contains... mentions of your real dad.”
Petra shrugged.
Ivor took it as a sign to keep going, so he did. “The Order of the Stone was.. a group of friends, so to put it. There were five of us, and each one of us specialized in something different. Gabriel was the swordsman, he did most of the fighting.” He witnessed Petra’s eyes light up at the mention of a swordsman, but she didn’t interrupt. “Ellegaard was the genius and inventor of the group, she knew just about everything there is to know about redstone. Magnus on the other hand would explode everything. You could never keep that man on his feet.” Ivor chuckled weakly. Such fond memories began to fill his head, the good times felt so far in the past. Now they were just masked and tainted by... what they had done.
“...The last one was Soren. He was the architect and leader of the Order of the Stone.”
“...Dad...” Petra mumbled quietly.
Ivor winced but didn’t engage. “We had gotten a hold of a command block if you remember what that is.”
“The block with the power to create or destroy anything,” Petra responded, nodding.
“Yeah, well Soren used it for all the wrong reasons. After many adventures, we decided to take on the Ender Dragon, a dragon as dark as the night itself with glowing, purple eyes; however, he wussed out last second and used the command block to get rid of it instead. He was a fool and he still is. They all are.” He scowled. “They all decided to keep the ordeal to themselves and play it off as them being heroes. Now everyone swoons over them and calls them all the greatest heroes we’ve ever seen when they’re nothing but frauds!”
Petra leaned over the table, “Is that why Soren left me with you?”
Ivor flinched. He hadn’t expected that question. “Uhh.. your dad.. he, um..” He stammered, “he was different, always found a way to be. Everyone else I knew since we were toddlers but Soren? He just... appeared one day. He had a lot of mystery surrounding him and I never quite figured out where he came from or what was up with him. One thing was for certain, though... he... never did well with responsibility.” He switched the brewing stand off, letting the freshly made potions cool. He maneuvered around the table and over onto the other side where Petra sat to stand beside her. “He wasn’t ready for a child, yet his foolishness brought him to have one. So he ran away, leaving you behind with me.” His hands balled into fists, trembling in anger. “He was a coward till the very end.”
“...He didn’t want me,” Petra concluded. Ivor felt fear shoot through his heart as tears began to prick her eyes. He wiped the tear from her face, pulling her into a soft, yet comforting embrace.
“It wasn’t your fault. He would’ve ditched anyone for his own personal gain and pursuit of knowledge.” Ivor insisted. “It was Soren. He was never meant to be a father. But... y’know just because he’s your real father doesn’t mean you need his approval..”
“Stop saying that.”
“..What?”
Petra clenched onto the fabric of the clothes of Ivor’s outfit on the back. He swore the nails were somehow piercing through the clothes and getting into his skin. It stung. “What’re you—“
“You’re my dad.” She spat in response. “My real dad. Soren isn’t.” She went on to insist. More tears trickled down her face. “I love you.”
Ivor couldn’t help but shed a tear himself. “Petra—...”
“You won’t leave me, right?” Her words began to quiver, “...Like Soren did?”
“Petra...” He held her tighter. “...I’d never leave you.”
“You promise..?”
“I promise.”
“...Thank you dad... I.. I love you...” She pulled away from the hug, wiping her tears.
“I love you too.”
Petra’s eyes suddenly widened. She shot out of her chair. “Wait! I forgot to give you something.”
“Hm? What’s that?”
Petra pulled out the three used signposts; the side that was written on was held away from Ivor so he couldn’t read them. “I made these uhm... signs for you.” She awkwardly handed them to Ivor, gaze quickly averting and instead staring at the distant wall. Her foot tapped anxiously. “Just thought I’d... I don’t know... I’d do something for you, after everything you’ve done for me..”
Ivor flipped over the signposts all at the same time to read them, and he felt his heart jolt once he saw what they contained.
‘I Love You!’
‘Ivor = Best Dad’
‘Your My Hero’
Ivor couldn’t even bring himself to speak. Every time his mouth opened, he’d choke over his own words. All he could do was pull Petra straight back into a hug, way tighter than the previous ones.
This time Petra didn’t push him away.
She hugged him back.