Chapter Text
It had only been a couple of days since he’d arrived at this new fortress…
It seemed people were scared of them. Though it wasn’t like Wisck could blame that thought process. They were much taller than any wither skeleton had any right to be. Or that’s what his boss had said. Truth be told Wisck didn’t think he was much taller than any other wither skeleton around.
Though ever since the incident he’d become a lot physically stronger. Maybe that made his above average height more noticeable.
They missed when he’d been shorter. It allowed them to blend in. They’d never get so many stares like this when they’d lived with Father.
Aside from the staring though, life was nice. Sure the pay for being a grunt worker wasn’t good. But he was lucky to have even landed a job considering the current circumstances of his father. People were not just staring at him because he was tall.
Having a father who was sentenced to death seemed to drag people’s attention to them.
However, their father was long dead. Wisck gripped a large chest as he prepared to haul it through the endless hallways of the fortress. His execution had taken place during their leave of absence. Even so, Wisck wouldn’t have attended if he’d been able to.
They walked through the dark building. Soft lanterns hung from the ceiling, and Wisck had to admit, they looked very nice. The small containers were much more aesthetically pleasing when compared to the sooty torches that were used back when human contact had been more… limited.
Sometimes they stopped for a quick break. Setting down the large chest and stretching out their tired bones before adjusting their grip and continuing on. What was even in this thing in the first place?
He yearned to open it, but resisted the temptation. Their instructions were clear. He was only to move the goods, never to check what they were. Wisck did not want the head blaze breathing down his neck over some dusty old blaze rods, or whatever the chest contained.
One more left turn and he’d arrived at the destination. The storage room! An un-exiting name for an un-exiting place. Wisck had been expecting to enter an empty room, but it looked like all of the other workers were taking a break.
All heads turned to them as he entered. His wither star spun uneasily as he continued across the threshold. They pretended not to notice all of the eyes. A dull spark of fear pressed against their ribs as they heard someone walk up behind them. He took a shuddering breath as he set the chest down and prepared to turn around.
Once Wisck was eye-to-eye with the skeleton approaching them, they tried to relax. It was easier said than done unfortunately, and Wisck had no idea what his posture actually looked like.
“You’re quite slow for someone so… supposedly strong.” They didn’t know what the skeleton was getting at.
“I- I am?” He stuttered out.
“Yes. You know the boss was reaaaal exited to see how much you could speed up our jobs.” They looked disapproving. He felt a pang of fear run through his star.
“I must apologize, Its been quite some time since I’ve worked such long hours,” he did not like the way the others in the room were glancing at him, “I’m trying to make up for it though- I’ve only taken double chests or heavy single chests since I started working.”
The look on the face of the skeleton had not shifted. They looked as disapproving as ever.
“Well alright,” they were relenting? Wisck hadn’t expected that, “just keep doin work and it should be alright.” They walked up, and smiled at Wisck who promptly smiled back, tilting their head slightly down as a sign of respect.
“Thank you.” He walked forward to go meet the new shipment of goods that would be arriving soon. Wisck didn’t miss the surprised look on the stranger’s face as he walked past.
They smiled lightly as they walked back through the long hallways of the fortress. Sometimes they’d pass another skeleton, but the interaction with that stranger had made him feel much better about working here. Maybe things were finally turning around.
It only took another hour or so before all of the workers were dismissed to their quarters. Wisck followed the flow of people walking towards the lower floors of the fortress. He didn’t follow them to the bottom floor however. Their room was supposedly an afterthought, and it wasn’t located with the others.
He entered the room with a soft click of the door. It was a relatively small space, but at least they didn’t have to share it with anyone. He staggered over to the flimsy bed in the corner, and fell asleep in the sheets. They had a good feeling about tomorrow.
Wisck had taken to wandering the market along the lower floor. There was nothing for any of the lifters to do today, and as such, they’d all taken to wandering around.
Quiet chattering and the rattling of bones filled the space. Speckles of glow stone were visible through the windows; Wisck looked around at each vendor. Most of the items being sold were standard nether material. Basalt, gold, glow-stone…
Apples were not normal though. How did someone manage to get apples? They walked a little closer. A sign below the basket of fruits had been repeatedly scratched out. He couldn't read the price.
They were about to gather their wits and ask the seller for the price but they were beaten to it.
“You,” he walked up to the stand, “are you interested?”
“Sure- I haven’t seen anyone selling apples here before.”
“Oh thank the lords. I haven’t been able to get rid of these things since I got them,” they waved their hand exasperatedly to the crowd, “I was considering throwing them out.”
“How much are you selling them for?” The vendor squinted their eyes at him, contemplating.
“Honestly, I really just want them gone. Take them, BUT don’t make me regret this.” They shoved the crate, a little forcefully, into Wisck’s arms. They stumbled back in shock. It was only then that they realized who this skeleton was. They were from the “confrontation” in the storage room.
Huh. Well he wasn’t complaining. These apples could come in handy sometime later. As long as they didn’t dry out before then. Maybe he could wrap them in an old fire-resistant piece of clothing. They were bound to have something like that in their room.
They tucked the crate under their arm and continued surveying the last couple of stalls. The netherwart was intriguing, but too costly. And besides… he could just take some from the communal garden. Wisck turned to leave only to come face-to-face with his boss. And the head blaze.
Their boss placed her hand on their shoulder.
“Come outside with us,” her face was smiling, but he did not feel comfortable, “we just need to have a chat.”
He followed into the hallway, a creeping sense of dread pulling its way up his spine. It must be important if they had to pull them out of the market.
“We’ve been having people talking to us about your residence here.” The head blaze started the conversation.
“Talking?” They were betting it was a lot more than just talking. His boss winced.
“Yes…” Wisck tilted his head to the side at this response.
“Is there a problem?” Their boss decided to cut in, “We think it’s time for you to leave.” Ouch. He inhaled the dusty scent of the hallway.
“So, I’m being fired?”
“Not just fired.” Oh you have to be kidding- “People are uncomfortable with you being here due to the… situation regarding the attempted assassination of the King.” Their jaw made a small “o” shape in recognition.
As much as they wanted to fight this… it would really only make things worse. It looked like the head blaze had made this decision long before this conversation had taken place.
“Alright then. I’ll go remove my stuff from my quarters,” actually fuck this. If the decision had already been made, he was going to be an asshole about it, “But I will have you know: I was not involved with the attempted murder in the slightest. The court rulings already showed that.”
Both blazes looked unconvinced. Not that Wisck minded. They’d already done all that they could to prove their innocence; the only evidence against him was what his father and the assassin said. Nothing linked them to the case aside from the fact that they’d been a palace guard before the whole debacle.
But it didn’t matter. He could go find another job in another fortress.
They carried a barrel in their arms as they exited the fortress. If the guards checking what was in his chest noticed that he’d stolen the bedsheets from his room, they didn’t say anything.
Wisck had managed to get some of that netherwart though. Maybe they could try potion making… away from prying eyes of course. Trading with over-worlders had increased, but practicing their magic. Hm. Yeah not so much.
Their feet dragged softly along the ground as they walked along the soulsand. A couple of skeletons watched him walk with confusion. Right, yes. Soulsand. Soulsand is supposed to be slow. They stopped walking so fast.
He approached a rather steep cliff face. There was no possible way to continue across to the other parts of the land without getting closer to the vast pool of lava, so they jumped down.
The journey across the lower level of his homeland proved to be rather simple. Just a lot of walking. Unfortunately there were several points where they’d needed to swim across a lava pool or two. Wisck paused at another one of these situations.
Their barrel already had several burn marks. The wide stretch of lava intimidated them. It would be a much longer swim than the other times he’d had to do this.
He took a look around. There were very few sentient mobs. Surely no one would notice if…
They gathered their focus, and within a few seconds they were floating off of the ground slightly. Wisck took another quick look around before shooting forward across the hot sea. Their speed left a wake in the lava just below them.
Once their boots hit the ground of the other bank, they were running to hide behind a basalt pillar. A horrible anxiety filled him when crumbled to the ground. His wither star was spinning so fast; hitting some of his ribs. He really, really hoped no one had seen him.
They hated how fast that was. It would be so much quicker if they could just fly to another fortress. But that would drag too much attention their way. No one was going to ignore a flying wither skeleton. Wisck didn’t know what would happen if anyone found out about his abilities, but he didn’t want to deal with the consequences.
The humans had done enough experimenting on him. They didn’t want some stupid royal scientist trying to figure out what had happened to them. They would only explain it only to the people they could trust. Which at the moment, happened to be no one.
And so, he continued his solitary journey across the wilderness of the Nether. It was hard, and they received much more than their fair share of scratches. The cries of ghasts sometimes scared him, and with no way to tell the time, he began to grow weary.
A dull ache grew in their shoulder from an injury he’d received when he’d tripped over a small mound of soulsand. The barrel was seeming to get heavier and heavier as time went on.
Truth be told they were scared to go to sleep. What if a particularly vengeful skeleton shot them in their sleep? Or what if a hoglin decided to attack them? Sleeping out in the wild was dangerous.
But Wisck hadn’t slept in days… And he hadn’t found another fortress or any familiar signs of civilization in that time. Surely a rest would be good. And besides, they were in a crimson forest right now. Not exactly the safest place to sleep, but there were plenty of trees. Surely he could hide in one of those until he was able to think properly.
Yes, they decided. Sleep would be good. So they found a particularly tall tree, climbed up, and settled on a nice branch. He began to secure his barrel onto a thick branch with his belt when a flicker of blue caught his eye. A blue tree was growing on a platform across another lava lake.
They hadn’t seen a tree like that before. Maybe they should take a look tomorrow. That sounded like a good plan… Sleep overcame them quickly pulling at their senses; dragging them away from the land of consciousness.
“Did you hear what the crazy old skeleton said!?”
“Of course I heard it, everyone knows. He’s been talking about it for years.”
“What if we learned to fly!! That would be so cool”
That… was not a rumor Azfyn had heard before, and he’d heard many urban legends in sideline fortresses such as this one. His blaze rods spun as he thought about that particular rumor. A wither skeleton that could fly…
It may just be an old rumor, but he was starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel for clues about this so-called “Wither.”
One of his ambassadors to a human nation had informed him about this weapon that the humans had been working on. Its name implied that it was Netherian in nature, but there was nothing that could claim the title.
There were wither skeletons and wither roses, but nothing that was ever referred to directly as the “Wither.” He’d discussed it with his royal court and they all agreed that it likely had something to do with the withering effect associated with the entities that lived in the wither family.
Unfortunately, someone had also suggested that there may be a traitor amongst the wither skeletons. Maybe a strong skeleton had decided to take solace in the company of humans. It sounded more likely than any other possible conclusion.
However, something about a wither skeleton being referred to as a weapon disturbed him. The ambassador had claimed that the humans were talking of a weapon so powerful, it rivaled him. That could be disastrous when considering the aggression of some human kingdoms.
His usual excursions into civilian life had become reconnaissance missions. However, it had been years since the discovery. No further developments had been overheard from the humans. Though the name “Wither” was still used and talked about as though it was in development.
A wither skeleton that could fly. It could fit the bill.
He wandered over to a small shop. Upon closer inspection of the store name, it was a bookstore. He stepped inside.
The volumes of glittering pages lined the shelves. He saw some human books, enchanted, no doubt, with fire resistance. Though, most of the books that lined the walls were made with hoglin skin. He wondered how an establishment as extensive as the one had not moved to the more central fortresses of the kingdom.
He pretended to skim over the books intending to seem interested, just to strike a conversation with the person at the desk until one actually caught his eye. It seemed to be a romance novel, but this book was human designed. It’s thin pages covered in small words. When he flipped back to the cover, he was caught by the art.
It was a beautiful rendition of an old Blazeborne tale. Blue and red fire outlined the cover while a blaze held a wither rose in the center. The Rose: Retold. He turned to the first page to read the author’s statement. He was surprised to find that the human had given the story a happy ending. That was new… this story was usually very tragic.
With his original objective almost completely forgotten, he walked up to the counter. A wither skeleton greeted him.
“Hello, are you looking to purchase that book?” He nodded and passed the volume over to them. Right, he was here for information.
“I overheard some people talking about an urban legend. I’m just visiting, but it’s always interesting to hear about those.” He watched as they flipped through a catalog on the front desk.
“Oh? What particular legend were they discussing?” A silence filtered through the room as they turned to look up at him.
He smiled and continued, “something about a flying skeleton. I didn’t overhear anything else though.”
“Ah,” they let out a long sigh, their bones rattling wearily, “It’s much less of an urban legend and more of a one off story.” They wrote something down on the large book in front of them, continuing, “Every so often the new ones will hear about it. That’ll be 244 nozes please.” He passed over the gold. It was a little pricey, but he didn’t mind all too much. Gold was easy for him to obtain.
“Some retired archer skeleton claims that he saw a wither skeleton flying across a section of the sea near the outskirts of fortress occupied land.” They waved their hands in, what he supposed, was the general area of the incident.
“You can go look, but no one has seen anything unusual in the years since.” He nodded along, already deciding that he would be exploring that area. If to do nothing else but occupy him for the time being. It was likely an unsubstantiated claim. Probably just a particularly fast strider.
“Well thank you for the explanation. Kids tend to latch onto the strangest things.” He sent a dazzling smile to the store clerk before exiting the store into the hallway of the fortress. He was going to explore the area despite the unbelievability of the rumor.
What could he say? Boredom had gotten the best of him, and kingdom politics were stressful. The unrevealed bits of the world proved to be a wonderful escape from life. Even if he had been doing it for decades.
The sea was not hard to find. The huge expanse of lava rested far below the elevated fortress. While Azfyn could have ridden a nearby lava stream down to the land below, he opted for the much more exciting idea of jumping off the cliff. He floated down with ease, and swimming to the opposite shore proved to be no challenge.
He still had a week to spend here. It wouldn’t hurt to look around some more.
The forest was nice. Though, nothing like the crimson forests he was used to.
Wisck had built a make-shift cabin in the warped forest. He wasn’t going to stay there permanently, of course, but he needed a safe place to return to while he tried to figure out what to do with himself. He still goes on routine journeys. Softly wandering around, looking for a new fortress to call home.
It’s just tiring. Carrying his barrel around had started weighing on him. The fear of losing many of his only belongings was constant.
And besides. It was just a hut so he could be there for his apple trees. The apples were fire resistant, but that didn’t stop them from rotting. He’d fortunately—or unfortunately if the implications were considered—found some patches of dirt to plant the seeds in.
He was currently packing the dirt softly on the first patches of seeds he’d sewn into the ground. Every couple of seconds he would look over his shoulder. Dull memories of human faces rested at the back of his mind. He tried focusing on the good ones.
“Hey. What’s Up.”
Wisck turned around and screamed.