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Returning to Hermitcraft meant returning to a server full of problems that he had to sort out. His Hermits were creative, and that brought beautiful bases and inventive mini-games, but it also brought the creation of bugs, and glitches, and mutated code that he had to sort out before anything became a server wide issue.
The Hermits knew that he would be going away to help Grian on his world after another Death Battle that some Hermits were always pulled into. Aware of how serious the situation could be, and the face that X might not be contactable for a while, they had been surprisingly good at holding back from any potential glitch creating activities. This didn’t mean, however, that there was nothing. Xisuma had days’ worth of daily admin tasks to catch up on, and several spikes of lag that had built up in various areas of the world whilst he’d been away.
This, X was prepared for. He’d certainly had much more on his plate when the moon decided to crash last year. What X wasn’t prepared for was for his mind to wander at the most inopportune moments. Like now, for instance.
X was staring at his admin panel, hand hovering over a line of code that was a really simple fix. Yet, for some reason he hesitated. Handling code was always dangerous, but came so naturally to X that there were very few times in the past where he questioned himself, but after seeing the ruins of his home in the Deep End for the first time since leaving, the fear of destroying something on Hermitcraft had descended on him like a thick fog.
He knew some of the others were worried about him. Xisuma hadn’t missed the way that Impulse had looked at him after they got back from the Watchers with Joel, but he chose to ignore it. After all, that was what he had been doing for years now, and it had always worked out just fine for him.
Since his return, there had been many questions from the Hermits on world, asking after the well-being of those involved in the latest round of the Life Games (a name that seemed to have caught on suddenly amongst the participants). Xisuma had given them all an update, reassuring them that everything was alright, and no one was seriously hurt – Joel’s pleas and screams burned through his ears as that little white lie slipped passed his lips.
A few of the Hermits didn’t seem convinced. Gem hovered nervously around him for a while, knowing Joel from other worlds, and missing both of her closest friends from this season. Xisuma had done all he could to comfort her, and she looked more reassured by the time she left, so he was pretty certain that he had done as well as he could given the circumstances.
One thing that Xisuma didn’t tell his Hermits was how he was doing. He gave them detailed reports on their friends, on how they were doing after another traumatic Game and this time the direct involvement of the Watchers, but he did not mention anything about his own struggles. After all, how could he take care of them, if they were worrying about taking care of him. No, X had to be strong, he had to prioritise the others first, and then he could take care of himself later when he had the time.
Shaking his head, X entered the code, and watched as the fractured glitch stitched itself back together, leaving the world returned to how it was supposed to be. It was only then that Xisuma thought of Grian. If X was taking this hard, he could only imagine how Grian felt, being taken back to the place that for so long he had tried to forget.
Xisuma scrambled for his communicator, and typed out a message hurriedly, offering an ear, a shoulder to cry on, anything that his Hermit might need. It wasn’t long before he received a response.
Thanks X, I think I’m doing okay, mainly just focusing on Joel for now. How are you? Must have been hard to see the city?
That was all it took to push X over the edge. He felt his tears before he realised that he was going to cry.
He didn’t reply, and eventually, his communicator started to ring.
~~~
Grian hummed.
“Everything okay, G?” Impulse asked from across the room, where the two of them were tidying the books away that they had used to try and locate Joel.
“Yeah, just a strange message from X,” Grian replied, “He’s worried, and I replied right away, but he’s not responding.”
“That is odd,” Impulse said, “Not like him to leave someone on read, especially after something like this. Do you think he’s alright?”
Grian shrugged and Impulse leaned over Grian’s shoulder to read the message.
“I’m gonna give him a call,” Impulse said.
When the phone line connected, the first thing Impulse heard was a quiet sniffle before X was clearing his throat and asking if he needed anything.
“Impulse, hey, how’s everyone doing? Did you need something?” X had said. Impulse could hear the effort that was being put into the words, and the false positivity that laced them.
“We’re all fine, X,” Impulse answered, “We were worried about you though. Is everything alright?”
There was a slight pause and another sniff, “Me? Yes, of course, I’m fine, just busy, you know, Hermitcraft things.” X’s voice trailed off and he chuckled slightly.
~~~
After the call, it didn’t take a lot of effort to convince Grian to let Impulse go back to Hermitcraft to check on X in person. There was less risk creating a temporary portal to Hermitcraft than it was stepping outside the border to the central world hub. This world and Hermitcraft were both heavily protected against the Watchers through a mix of enchantments and Grian’s own Watcher magic. Even so, Grian sent Impulse off with every protective spell he could think of. Just to be safe.
Once back in Hermitcraft, Impulse practically hunted X down. a few hours, a few tears and a few pots of tea later, X was leaning against his shoulder, sleeping. Impulse wrapped an arm around his friend. It was rare to see X without his walls up, and Impulse was glad to have been there for him when Xisuma needed someone to care for him for once.
Impulse sent a picture of their sleeping admin to Grian, along with a smiley face. Grian sent one back of Bdubs sleeping on the soda, Etho laying a blanket over him.
~~~
Millions of eyes swirled around, never blinking. Most of them were looking in different directions. No one, not even the other Watchers, knew the name of the Monarch Watcher. The Monarch had no form, other than a sea of eyes.
Before the Monarch stood three senior Watchers.
A disembodied voice echoed around the room, “My Watchers, you have become sloppy.”
None of the Watchers dared to speak.
“You,” half of the eyes swivelled to the Watcher on the far left, “Make sure that the Voidwalker cannot leave his world until we can dispose of him like the rest.” The Watcher bowed, before leaving the room. The eyes watched until the doors swung closed.
“You,” the eyes now turned to the Watcher that was previously standing in the middle, “strengthen our defences, and strengthen our offenses.”
The Monarch once again waited until the Watcher had left.
“And finally,” The eyes all settled on the last Watcher, “Xornoth, my favourite,” the Watcher practically purred under the praise, “I need you to focus on our player. I don’t care how you do it, but I need him to either be here where we can see him, or I need to be able to See him. He is too interesting to be killed. I want him alive.”
Xornoth, the final Watcher bowed down, “Anything for you, your Majesty.”
“Oh,” The Monarch added, as Xornoth turned to leave, “Keep an Eye on the Listener and Xelqua while you’re at it.”
~~~
Xornoth loved to Watch. Xornoth also loved to meddle. He thrived on being seen, not just Seeing. The Monarch had not been happy with him when he had returned from Empires with little to prove for it. Xornoth had enjoyed nudging the players towards the explosion that ended that world. He enjoyed Watching them run, scream, scramble. He especially enjoyed Watching his brother, who was so full of confidence. Scott was so sure that he could beat Xornoth. If only he knew.
Xornoth leaned back against the rubble lining the old streets of the Voidwalkers’ destroyed city. Destroying this one had been fun, but destroying Scott’s creations had been so much more satisfying, cathartic. And Xornoth yearned to meddle once again.
Opening his eyes, Xornoth Looked down on Scott. Scott was laughing, smiling. Smiling at his friend, someone who obviously was important to Scott. Xornoth smiled. Why not kill several birds with one stone? Scott was the gateway to Joel. And Jimmy was the gateway to Scott. By the sounds of it, they needed a new Listener, and Martyn had been so fun to train.
Turning Jimmy into a Listener would be fun for Xornoth. Watching Martyn struggle to help, unable to do anything, would be fun for Xornoth.
Seeing Scott crumble and crack is something that Xornoth needs. Getting answers from Joel is something the Monarch needs, and Xornoth is bitter that Joel mostly evaded him during Empires. Xornoth needs more than to Watch, he needs to meddle.