Chapter Text
Due to lack of space, buildings towered higher and higher each year and people were literally living on top of eachother. Those who lived outside the city searched for better opportunities within Realm and those who lived in only prayed that they would be able to leave. With more people confined in close spaces, crime rose and the government, helpless to the demand, could only turn a blind eye from those affected. They had to keep what authority they had after all.
So on this chilly morning is where our story begins. The streets of Realm were bustling with the work commuters and school age children alike. It was 7:30 am, cold and dreary in the city that millions called their home. A young boy dodged and weaved, taking advantage of the crowds, splitting through the waves like a salmon jumping against the current.
“Someone stop that man!” An older woman called out to the enveloping crowd. No one heard her. They were solely focused on where they were going, trying to not get swallowed by the traffic. Sirens and trucks drowned out her cry until…
–Woosh–
A large and demanding figure landed heavily on the sidewalk, splitting the stream of people like a rock in a river. The figure held a large black staff with a wrapped hand. He was wearing a green cloak that was tied with a black sash. His face was hidden by a green and white striped hat, but undoubtedly what stood out the most was his large black wings that extended out, the layers of feathers making him seem four times as large as he was.
Instantly as he landed he jutted out his staph in front of the running kid causing him to collide at his stomach, folding over like a tortilla. The birdman gracefully grabbed the purse that was still held tightly in the thief’s hand. He moved the saff causing the kid to fall flat on his butt to the ground. The child looked up, eyes wide as though he was seeing his last moments and the winged figure lifted his head revealing his smile.
“Sorry if I hurt you” His smile slightly dropped as he noticed the kid’s hand wrapped around his ribs. The boy did not reply.
“I'm sure you are a good kid,” The man dropped down to his level, looking straight into the terrified boy’s eyes. “That is why I had to stop you from doing something you would regret.” The man stood back up, adjusting his hat.
“You are much too smart to be doing petty crime. Go prove that to yourself.” And he turned away, the crowd parted, the few older onlookers whispered as the rest streamed away. All leaving the boy to suffocate under the waves of people that flowed past him. All he could think or ask was “who was that?”
—--
“Philza?” A woman dressed in a smart pantsuit and heels walked quickly down the echoing hallway. She held up a phone to her ear and her lips were pressed in a thin line. She stopped suddenly, her heels punctuating the abrupt stop.
“He’s back in Realm?”
—--
Philza Minecraft was a legend to some, an unheard of hero to most, but a man of mystery to all. His reputation failed to precede him since so little was known about his work. Some called him the Crow Father, theorising that even the birds outside your window were in servitude to him. To those who were naughty or would not go to bedtime he had eyes everywhere and could tell if you weren’t sleeping.
Others mused that he married death herself, forever protected from “taking the big sleep” as they say. He existed outside of time, unable to age or be killed.
But those were all stories, the real Philza Minecraft was just a man. And a starving man at that.
He swooped over the city of Realm, considering how much it had changed in his time away. As he flew higher to avoid the train lines, he realized he had no idea where he was at all. The city that he used to know from the inside out was no longer his. This failed to upset him as much as probably expected since his stomach was yelling far louder than any nostalgia could penetrate.
Through the noise and suspiciously urine-colored steam a smell wafted to where he flew and like a bird of prey, Philza darted straight towards where his nose led him. There was a small shop without an open sign on the outside but since Philza decided a couple decades ago that he didn’t care what others thought, he just walked right inside. The sign on the outside said:
Sea-Pic-kings
Fish, crab, and more!
Philza didn’t know what ‘ and more!’ constituted but he was too hungry to care. The door jingled to announce as he entered.
“Hey there!” A cheery voice welcomed him. “Welcome in! How can I help you?” The smell of fish and old refrigerators wafted over and drowned Philza where he stood, but never was a smell more welcome.
“Food,” Philza almost growled out. Then, correcting himself after remembering that most establishments did not welcome in scary animals, “I would like some food… Please.”
“Certainly! You’re in luck, because that is what we do here!” Philza was starting to lose it. Holding back he approached the counter and stared the cheery man dead in the eyes. “I have flown over 50 miles today, I do not care what you give me. As long as it is edible and food I will eat it.” His hands were gripping the counter, knuckles turning white.
“O-Okk-kay” the cashier stepped back, no longer feeling safe behind his glass display. “I will order you the daily special.” He slid a table marker, leaning away from the ravenous man. “Your table is going to be table 4. Will you be paying cash or card?”
“Card.” The silence was defining between the two men as the chip reader was processing the payment.
“Here is your drink cup, your order will be right out.” Then the man almost ran away to the back of the kitchen to hide.
Philza took his cup, filling it with water and sat down. Never had water tasted so good. It was comparable to chugging water after swimming on a hot day. Simply divine. He was mostly just glad to rest his bones. It used to be easier to fly city to city but he was not as young as he used to be. Phil, you are getting old. He told himself as he stretched his back, wincing at the sharp pain that had been killing him.
“Order for table 4?” Philza opened his eyes and nodded, meeting those of a different man. This man was blonde and a bit older than the other. The man was wearing a green apron and placed the tray in front of Philza.
“Hi, I’m Sea Peekay. I'm the owner and just wanted to let you know that I would appreciate it if you did not scare my employees in the future.”
“Oh yeah. Sorry.” CPK’s eyes lingered a bit but Phil was already digging in. It seemed to be a lobster roll but with mysterious fish instead of lobster with a side of chips. It was a good portion of food but Philza inhaled it, noises involuntarily coming from his throat as he fit more food than he could chew inside his mouth.
He eventually stopped and drank his cup of water after it was all gone. He wiped his mouth neatly and stood up to leave. Thankfully, there was no one else in the restaurant, besides the cashier who quickly turned around when he stood. Phil grabbed his wrapped sword and left the door jingling aggressively as he walked out. His eyes adjusted to the light, preparing to fly back up above the towers. He did not feel the eyes on his back as he left.