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It was hard to tell what was rarer: a total solar eclipse in their area or the fact that all the Hermits were gathered in one place at the same time. TFC was absent, but this was a rare event, not a miracle. Not that such a gathering was easy. Doc and Martyn currently sitting on Ren to keep him from jittering around so much; Grian, Katherine, and Zed were zipping above the treeline to keep their energy at manageable levels. A group of the hermits were setting up sensors and computers, with Cleo and Pix setting up journals and sketchbooks and cameras so any Hermits that were inclined to art could capture everything for posterity. Everyone was talking or yelling amongst themselves, and when you added lils into the equation, it was causing quite a din.
Luckily, Impulse was able to keep his charges entertained with ease. He was standing tall in his true demon form with a hand each holding one of Pearl’s ankles. The young lady was standing on his shoulders, directing him where to go like Joey in the crow’s nest of his ship. An Impy was nesting in her hood. Gem was sitting in his shirt pocket, shrunk down to about twenty centimeters and chilling with a Poppyseed and a Gemlette.
Beef stamped a hoof on a flat rock, sending a loud crack echoing through the clearing. When most people quieted down, he raised his voice. “Okay guys! We got about five minutes to totality, everyone put your glasses or goggles on! If you didn’t open your mailboxes in the last week, first of all, shame on you, what the hell did Etho and Tango do all that work for? Secondly, Tango has extras, but you’re not allowed to complain about the fit, because the fitted ones are in. Your. Mail.”
A disappointing amount of people went up to Tango to get replacements. The blaze was writing down names, scowling.
“Any lils should start getting into the tent! If anyone is stupid and tries to look at the eclipse outside of the tent, the Nerds will get to see if a blind lil means a blind life,” Lizzie announced.
Slowly all the lils started filing into the little tent, which was covered in a filtered film that would protect from the sun. With over thirty Hermits in their little community, a One Lil Limit had been placed for the event.
“Pearl, you good to stand, or do you wanna sit down?” Impulse asked upward.
“Uh, I think I’ll sit down, if you’ll be lookin’ up too,” the young woman said. She stepped to the side and sat down on the demon’s left shoulder.
Gem climbed out of Impulse’s pocket and crawled onto his other shoulder, growing to full size and sitting with her sister. She took a pair of sunglasses from Pearl and put them on. “Tango sure this will keep our eyes safe?”
“Maybe wait to see if one of the more impatient Hermits hurts their eyes, and then look up,” Impulse suggested, making the girls giggle.
“Hey you three!” Shubble waved a hand at them and held up her camera. “Family photo?”
The girls agreed enthusiastically, so Impulse nodded. His daughters leaned against his head, and they all smiled for the camera.
Once the flash went off a few times, Shubble took a few steps back and rotated her camera to get a different kind of shot. “Okay, now can we have the three of you flexing? Impulse looks like a golem with the two of you on his shoulders!”
The three of them laughed and posed for the camera. Gem pushed up her sleeves for good measure, showing off what years of sword training could do.
After she took some more photos, Shubble gave them a thumbs up. “Thanks so much, guys! I’ll get copies sent to you in a few days! I think the Archivists will want me to prioritize the ‘important’ photos.” She then went over to all the redstone equipment and took some photos of all that, too.
Cub blew a horn, drawing everyone’s attention again. “Luna Major is incoming!” He announced, using a filtered spyglass to keep an eye on the moon as it slowly made its way towards the sun.
The Hermits that were flying, natural wings or manmade, landed on tall trees nearby, settling on a sturdy branch so they could watch the eclipse without falling on their asses.
“You girls got a good view?” Impulse asked.
Pearl hummed in affirmative. “All good up here, Dad!” Gem said. Impulse felt them grab a hold of the material of his shirt.
As the moon started to overlap with the morning sun, several of the assembled Hermit cried out in excitement. This was only the fifth solar eclipse that Impulse had witnessed since becoming a Hermit, and the first total one. Luna Minor, as the name implied, was not large enough to cover the sun when they crossed paths, so Luna Major fully eclipsing the sun was a noteworthy event.
Impulse spared a glance towards the machines. As two of the oldest Hermits, X and Pix had seen plenty of total eclipses, and were foregoing watching it directly in favor of using the many devices developed by the Nerds (Impulse included) to see if they would get any different readings during the eclipse. Impulse’s submission for the event was a more nuanced daylight sensor that was also useful at tracking UV levels from moonlight.
As the moon started to fully cover the sun, Pearl’s fingers dug into Impulse’s shoulders, and he reached up to hold her hand. They had proven already that none of her lycanthrope abilities were activated by any solar events other than an unshrouded full moon, but he knew his daughter still had a little paranoia that she would feel a pull or a change might happen.
If something bad did happen, he would be there to protect her, as was his sworn duty as her dad.
Impulse held his breath for the precious minute that the sun was but a bright ring in the sky. He peeked under his protective glasses for a few seconds to take a look at the surrounding area being bathed in an odd shadowless darkness.
“Whoa, is that a shooting star!?” Grian called. He was pointing up from the highest bough of a pine tree.
Impulse looked up to catch the last of a glowing white something disappear behind the trees that were surrounding them. “Did you two catch that?” Impulse asked his daughters.
“Nope, there were cooler things to look at,” Gem said.
“Nada for me,” Pearl agreed.
He looked to X and Pix, who had seen the most of pretty much everything just from pure statistics.
X had a very quick exchange with his son, who shook his head. So that ruled out visitors.
It still wasn’t safe to take off their glasses, so despite a lot of murmuring amongst the Nerds, everyone resumed watching the eclipse pass by.
lilililililililililililil
It was always safer to leave at least one soul sprite behind with the valuables, no matter how mild or dangerous the threat appeared. It was a lesson that people only learned the hard way once.
Skizz glanced around the cave again, doing one final survey to ensure nothing was amiss. He wouldn’t be leaving much, only the things he couldn’t afford to lose—his gapples, a few potions, a spare knife, the brewing stand. A scarred hand reached up to release the leather strap over his chest. A chorus of excitable humming accompanying the motion, delighted to finally be freed after hours of torturous containment. It was like he was wearing a singing necklace.
He let the strap fall, and it only took seconds for his three sprites to free themselves and dance around him, chirping and singing. Their elation was so contagious that the man couldn’t help but giggle along with them as they zipped through the air in little formations—probably ones that they’d cooked up on the flight here.
Skizz left them to explore the cave, swinging his shoddy backpack off his shoulders and stretching his arms high above his head with a groan, back popping, muscles sore and aching from how long he’d been in the air. He then unhooked a large water skin from a strap and gulped down the cool liquid greedily, draining whatever was left since the last time he’d seen fresh water. He didn’t fly often, and it left him a little rusty—but an eclipse was something he couldn’t not take advantage of. It was the best time he could fly without fear of being spotted.
He snagged an apple from one of the side pouches of his pack, crunching on it with one hand while sorting through his gear with the other, idly listening to the sprites chirp and whirr in the background as they played. It took a solid minute to extricate the top shulker from his rigging and grab the brewing stand out, but everything else to be left was readily accessible, just in case he needed something in a pinch. Besides setting aside the few items he’d be leaving, Skizz grabbed his metal arm brace and machete, taking a moment to slide the former onto his left arm. It wasn’t the most effective when it came to defense, but it was better than nothing and less unwieldy than a proper shield, so it worked well enough.
That finished, he didn’t waste time fooling around.
“Alright,” he called, his sprites obediently zipping back to his feet. They continued to tussle with each other, and Skizz could feel the sheer joy radiating so strongly from them that he couldn’t help but smile himself. He was happy for many reasons; it must’ve been months since he last went for a proper flight, and on top of that, he had finally found something promising in his search for a place to call home.
A glass house.
You don’t know these people. Don’t be a fool.
He blinked, looking down at the sprites again as they waited patiently for his instructions—as if they didn’t already know what he was about to say.
“One of you needs to stay here,” Skizz decreed firmly—and as expected, the elation switched instantly to whining. The sprites seemed to plead with him, their eyes round and sad at the oh-so-cruel decree. He knew exactly what they were feeling.
I don’t want to be alone.
There was nothing to be done about it; he categorically could not risk encountering anyone without at least one of the little stars safely hidden away. That was a fast-track to losing everything.
Again.
“No ifs, no buts, no coconuts,” he reprimanded, trying not to let their distress affect him too much. “Pick one, or I will.” It didn’t matter which; they were identical to one another in every way except for age. They had the same shape, same size, same scarring on each. Still, they tousled about for a solid minute, buzzing threateningly, occasionally nudging at Skizz’s foot to see if he might possibly be persuaded to relent.
He briefly considered leaving two behind, just so they wouldn’t be completely alone if something happened—but no. It would be much more useful to have as many as possible with him while exploring, little eyes and ears to warn him of any incoming threats or the like.
Eventually, one unlucky sprite was singled out of the group, practically wilting as it went to hover over the stack of supplies that would be left. It let out a few unhappy chirps, eyes still pleading with Skizz to change his mind.
It wasn’t going to happen.
He swung his pack over his shoulder again, taking his machete in one hand, metal guard on the other. The remaining sprites trilled and warbled, excitedly circling him as he turned out of the cave, towards the sun once more, the sky still darkened in partial eclipse.
“North, right?” he asked, and the sprites chirped affirmatively, leading him towards where he’d seen the glass house, just before touching down for an impromptu landing.
A glass house.
Well, not completely glass: large glass panels were placed neatly and delicately upon a dark wood frame, little lanterns dotted about to provide light. One disadvantage to the lanterns was that they provided just enough light that all the glass surfaces were reflecting something, making it impossible to see what was inside.
Or perhaps it was planned to be that way.
It meant a lot of things. Glass is difficult to make, which meant the creator must have facilities for large-scale production, indicating both wealth and a well-developed technology. It’s also fragile; only a fool would build out of such a delicate material in such a hostile world—unless they had the means to protect it. Whoever created it would either be incredibly powerful or have strong allies to defend them. Together, it implied community.
And Skizz was tired of being alone.
He could feel the elation bubbling up in his soul sprites as they set out into the forest, fallen leaves crunching underfoot, anticipation buzzing within him. There was a delicious smell of earth and hope and autumn rot permeating the air, the forest painted in all shades of fire and dirt, beckoning him forwards, onwards, to new beginnings.
Glass houses also implied danger.
Skizz was praying more than expecting that whoever he might encounter would be friendly to strangers; he was looking for a place to call home, and that certainly wouldn’t happen if they decided his head looked better severed from his shoulders. There was only one comfort in all this, that immediate death wouldn’t happen:
I can destroy any threats we come across, should it come down to it.
Still, better safe than sorry; he’d left his valuables and one spare life behind, despite all their pleas and whining. The sprites hated being alone just as much as he did. Hopefully, all that would end soon.
Skizz adjusted his grip on the machete, setting off into the unknown.