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When it rains at night in Hermitcraft, the magic in the server mixes with the rain to call the spirits. And when a Hermit leaves their mind open to the rain (otherwise known as standing in it without head covering), their spirit will visit them. But this spirit is weak, the two cannot touch. If the Hermit leaves their mind and heart open, the spirit is stronger.
Every Hermit has their own spirit. Whether it’s a childhood friend or family member, they exist. Like an Alley, the spirts glow in the nighttime rain.
It has been a while since Xisuma has seen his spirit. On the nights where it rains, the Hermits like to get together and talk with the doubled amount of people. And Xisuma always hangs back, the pouring rain on his helmet making it hard to hear.
He could leave and see his spirit back at his base, but Hermitcraft is a community. He wasn’t going to leave.
One rainy night during Season 7, Xisuma was at Scar’s Magical Village. This rain wasn’t predicted in the forecast so the Hermits didn’t meet up for it.
Scar stood in the bridges between the Village’s towers while the spirit of a young cat danced around him. Jellie growled from the comfort of the tower.
Xisuma had always admired Scar. The man happily walked around the server, not caring how he looked. Scar had years upon years of scars littered around him and he showed them off like a trophy. Xisuma always admired the courage that came with that.
“Xisuma!” Scar cried out while the spirit climbed up his back. “Come out in the rain!”
“I have to watch the cookies!” Xisuma called back, laughing. He gave Jellie a scratch on the chin as condolence for Scar playing with another cat. “The rain is also too loud on my helmet!”
Scar huffed and crossed his arms like an angry toddler. Then, he got an idea. “You know…you could just not wear the helmet…?”
Xisuma thought for a moment. He could, and just ask Scar not to tell anyone. But Scar wasn’t the best with secrets…
The oven timer’s shrill cry started.
“Good try!” Xisuma called out before getting up to take the cookies out.
Scar stomped his foot, “You’re no fun! We baked cookies together and you won’t even eat them with me!”
“I’m taking some home!”
“No fun!”
Xisuma had thought a lot about that conversation. With someone who can keep a secret and that he can trust, could Xisuma talk to his spirit? If he really trusted them, would he also take his chestplate off?
But that would open another can of worms. He’d have to explain. Explain his spirit, his past, his scars. Mental and physical. That was too much.
Xisuma decided not to take his helmet off.
The Hermits understood as they always did. In Season 8, they bothered Pearl and Gem instead of him.
Pearl was afraid because she didn’t know who'd pop up. It turned out to be okay. Her spirit being a younger version of her maternal grandmother.
Gem knew her spirit and wasn’t scared per say, just worried. Her spirit was a dragon, a rather big dragon. When the things first came barreling out of the sky, the other Hermits thought the Ender Dragon had somehow turned blue and spawned in the Overworld. But, with some explanation, everything worked out fine.
Now it was back to annoying Xisuma. They annoyed him until near the end. The Hermits didn’t know how long they had, so on the last rainy night, it was a going away party. Most thought they would die and possibly go to the spirit realm, few were optimistic.
Once again, Xisuma was conflicted. Stay and not see his spirit for possibly the last time, or leave.
The leave option had more weight. What would the spirit say? Xisuma knew the laws of the spirit realm. The spirits can watch from their realm, but can’t hear or speak. That’s what a rainy night is for. Would the spirit be mad that Xisuma hadn’t talked in all these years?
What if a Hermit followed him? Could Xisuma trust the Hermit to say nothing?
It was too much of a worrying choice, so the helmet stayed on.
In the next Season, Xisuma sat under The Entity while the rest of the server played and chatted with their spirits. Sometimes, another Hermit would try to call Xisuma over, but he’d just shake his head and chuckle.
At some point, an attainment Tango grabbed Xisuma’s arm and tried to pull him up. “Come on, X! I don’t even like the rain and I got into it!” Tango’s spirit of his childhood friend shouted inspirational remarks in the background.
Xisuma tried to resist but Tango would give up, so he let the blaze-born drag him into the rain. Almost instantly, the rain drowned out half of the world’s noise.
A few Hermits cheered, it was a big step for Xisuma to be in the rain. He stood around awkwardly, not really knowing what to say to anyone. Some Hermits have a look that said, ‘Are you going to take your helmet off?’. But Xisuma shook his head, he wasn’t.
Only when Bdubs tried to sneak up on Xisuma and take his helmet off did people really pester him.
“Hey!” Xisuma shook Bdubs off his back. “What are you doing?”
Bdubs landed on the muddy ground. “Trying to get you to have some fun! Join in on the run!” His small, child-like spirit helped him up. A few other Hermits and spirits joined in the want for Xisuma to join.
“No, I’d rather not.” He shook his head.
“You don’t even need the helmet!” Cub added. “You’ve said that, because you moved to the Overworld young, you only needed the thing for a year. It’s unnecessary.”
“I would say that—”
Cleo decided to join in as well, “Yeah! This is Hermitcraft, we’re all a bunch of weirdos. We don’t care. Gem literally has a dragon .”
Gem gasped and tired to cover the ears of her dragon spirit. “Rude! But Cleo is right, I haven’t been here long and I totally agree.”
Other Hermits joined in, all trying to convince Xisuma to take the helmet off. He started to stutter over his words, excuses falling through.
“Guys, just STOP!” Xisuma shouted after a while. They shut up quickly. “I’ve told you all many times, I don’t want to and I won’t . It’s not that I think you’ll judge all that much, I just…I—I don’t feel comfortable, okay?”
The Hermits murmured agreements.
“But why?” Scar asked. “I mean, you said you know we won’t judge but—”
“This is not the time, Scar,” Xisuma interrupted.
“Yes, maybe. But, still. Why?”
Xisuma didn’t want to say the specific reason. But he knew how to go around it. “Scar, how are you so confident? You are littered with scars, and do not care. Cleo, you are a zombie and have a horrific tale on how you got like that. No shame in telling it. Grian, you are a literal eldritch being and you told us like that.”—he snapped his fingers—“All of you have some weird thing and are okay with it. You happily share about your lives. How much do you know about me?”
“All we know is that you came from the End,” Tango shrugged after a moment. “And hey, if you’re trying to tell us something, we’re willing to listen.” The others agreed.
Xisuma shook his head, “No. No, I'm not saying anything.”
They left him alone for the rest of the night.
It rained at night a week later. Because the two dates were so close, the Hermits didn’t meet up.
Xisuma jogged through the deserted shopping district. He was at his base earlier, but noticed that something was missing and needed to buy some materials. He figured that at this time of night in this weather, he didn’t need to put his armor back on and so his many scars glowed in the night and in the rain.
Xisuma bought his materials and started to head back. But, he remembered another thing he might have to buy. Stopping near the TCG shop, Xisuma took out a shoulder box and shifted through it.
Nearby, a small series of explosions went off. Thinking it was a Hermit doing something stupid, he ignored it.
“Whatcha doing?” A small childish voice asked, appearing in front of Xisuma’s box.
Surprised by the sudden child, Xisuma screamed and fell back. The shoulder box closed and the child, who was resting his arm on the lid, fell forward. But he sprang back up, with a smile. The little boy had short hair and wide, welcoming eyes. His clothes were just a simple t-shirt and shorts.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” the spirit said.
Xisuma, who was trying to steady his breathing after the shock, sputtered. “Oh, yeah, um. I was looking for something.”
“Did you find it?”
“No.”
“Aw. Shame. Do you want a hug?” The spirit didn’t wait for an answer before going over to Xisuma and hugging him.
It was…odd. No mention of the years past, of the new scars acquired since then, or how tense the situation was. If the hug was meant to make the situation less tense, it worked. A hug from a spirit is a rather nice one, for there being no heat. Spirits were surprisingly…soft, for the lack of a better word.
Xisuma gently hugged his brother back and smiled.
The spirit laughed and let Xisuma go. “It’s great to see you again! Have you been well, Xisuma?”
“I’ve been…good. Hermitcraft has been great.” Xisuma absent-mindedly rubbed his scars.
“You do remember me, right? Like my name, my—”
“Of course, of course! How could I forget my better half? You can’t make 15 without the Vali!”
The two had always had an inside joke to do with the number 15. Both of them had been born on the 15 of their respective months and their names, when it came to Roman numerals, made 15.
Vali laughed again, “True! Hey, do you wanna play tag? The other spirits have stopped playing with me and I really want to.”
“Sure,” Xisuma smiled and quickly broke his shulker box before standing.
Vali also stands and giddily laughs. “TAG!” He hits Xisuma before running off.
Xisuma runs after him and the game starts. They dash around the shopping district, climbing over shops, dodge each other, and laughing the entire time.
It is only when, after a few rounds and when Vali is It, the game stops. Back at TCG, Xisuma tries to round a corner by slowing down first. He slows down but slips on a patch of mud. He falls and ends up hitting his head on the ground.
“Xisuma!” Vali cries out, falling to his knees. “Are you okay?”
Xisuma sits up slightly and runs the back of his head, “Yeah, I’m good. I have fallen worse when in my helmet, which I think is worse.”
“But how do I know you don’t have a concu-con-concus—”
“Concussion? I don’t have one, it’s fine.”
“No, no. I have to be sure. Here, come sit in this shop.” Vali coaxed Xisuma up and walked over to the TCG entrance. Upon looking into the store, they made eye contact with Etho.
The man crouched on the floor, trying to silently open a pack of cards. An umbrella and shulker box sit near him.
“Uhhh. Hello…?” Etho puts the pack down and waves. Vali stares with a confused glance and Xisuma stiffens. “I can leave if, uh…”
“No, I think you’re fine. Maybe?” Vali looks up at Xisuma. The young spirit didn’t know how to assess the situation.
Etho put his hands up upon seeing Xisuma’s scared expression, “Hey, I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to. But, if you were to take my advice, you should let me tell the others.”
“What?” Xisuma questioned.
“We’re all weird. Like, I wear this mask mainly because it completes my look. Not because I have a giant scar on my jaw.”
“You have a scar?”
“Everyone was at least one.” Etho shrugged before pulling his mask down. Under it was a rough-looking scar running across the entire length of his jaw. Somehow a mixture between a burn and cut. “No one’s gonna judge you.”
“Maybe, but people have said that before and it was a lie” the words tumbled out, something Xisuma would’ve never imagined admitting. “It’s also more of a shame or guilt thing.” And while the sentences were true, he still worried about the others judging. Because who can’t help but notice a hundred glowing scars? Xisuma’s Overworld classmates noticed, some even felt like adding onto the pile of healed skin.
Survivors' guilt. A mental condition that occurs when a person believes they have done something wrong by surviving a traumatic or tragic event when others did not.
The Void family was visiting family after being out of the End for a year. The town was near dragon territory, but dragon attacks were rare. The Voids’ luck ran out. A dragon attacked the town, burning and exposing everything it could.
Xisuma and Vali got caught on the tail end of an explosion. One survived, the other didn’t.
“Scars are the mark of something good, a noble sacrifice. I didn’t do that. If I protected Vali, I’d have more scars but it would’ve been worth it.”
The other two looked at Xisuma.
“I’m sure that there's nothing to be ashamed of,” Etho shook his head at Xisuma. “Right, kid?”
Vali nodded, “Yeah, he’s right. If anything, my death saved you.” The shop was quiet again.
Xisuma looked back at Etho with a small nod, “Say something if you want. But don’t expect me to walk around without a helmet.”
“Good enough,” Etho smiled and pulled his mask back up.
When the other Hermits caught wind of Etho’s tale, they asked Xisuma to fact-check it. They left the encounter excited because it was true and Xisuma had said he might take the helmet and chest plate off for the next rain gathering.
So, the next time the server’s magic mixed with the rain and called the spirits, Xisuma joined in. The normally odd amount of people was made even again.
After a few blinks of shock from the others and crescendoing explosions, Vali re-entered the scene. The enthusiastic spirit met with the equally enthusiastic Hermits and they played around like normal.
And gradually Xisuma wore his helmet less. To the point he only wore it if he needed its holo screens. The knowledge that Xisuma did all that he could and that the Hermits thought he was just as odd as them made it work.
The confidence of a man full of guilt is something that is hard to raise, but the strong community did it. Time and time again, the Hermits helped each other show their true selves.