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There is something wicked within her.
It is a cold, wretched thing. An ache. An emptiness. Nothing, in a place where there should be something. Anything. Perhaps it was a result of the snow, the frost biting deep into her chest.
Pearl is supposed to feel something. Anger, maybe. She dons a red cloak– the fiery hue matching the rage she should be experiencing. That everyone seems to think she’s feeling. Being red means that her emotions are that much more sharp, right?
They’re the only ones who will accept her, anyway. Since she’s too “violent” for her partner. Too much of a “loose cannon”. Even then, they tug at her cloak, push her to the outside of their circle, and light flames that lick at her heels.
At least the warmth helps her to feel something.
And then Tilly dies.
Pearl, for the first time all season, truly, really, feels something.
They all die. Whether by her hands or her dogs’, it doesn’t really matter. It’s so much, everything at once, and Pearl thinks she’s feeling every emotion she was supposed to be feeling this whole time. As if a dam had broken, and the river– once frozen over– runs free. The tears on her face are a distinct opposite to the smile that stretches across cracked and bloodied lips.
Cleo dies, their fiery hair fanning out around them like a halo. Pearl doesn’t spend too long looking at their body. She’s feeling too much already. Regret just wouldn’t do, wouldn’t mix well in the cocktail of emotions swirling inside her.
She tugs her hood over her head. There’s no need for her to pay attention to her surroundings now. No one is left, save for the one person she’s connected to. Whose life is in her hands.
She feels cold. Colder than she has in months.
All that’s left to do now is die.
“I never thought it’d end like this, Pearl.” Scott says. She doesn’t particularly care what he thinks. Her bow is drawn taut, an arrow pointing directly at his heart.
One of her dogs brushes past Pearl’s legs, pressing against her in what she recognized as an attempt at comfort. Her family would do the same whenever she was upset as a pup, surrounding her with the warmth and comfort that only a pack of wolves was able to do.
Her eyes don’t leave Scott’s face. Her hand doesn’t leave the trigger.
It doesn’t end how she wanted.
Scott kills himself.
And Pearl dies, too.
The sound of sniffling and a cold, wet feeling against her face wakes Pearl up.
Her whole body aches in a way she hasn’t felt in a while. Riding on an adrenaline high will do that to you, she supposes.
She groans, and opens her eyes.
The sky is a painting. Pinks, oranges, and blues set the backdrop for vibrant splotches of red and yellow. Pearl can’t quite tell if the light is coming from the east or west, but the chill that settles in her bones makes her believe the sun is setting.
Finally, she glances over at the source of the sniffles. One of her dogs is pressing its nose against her cheek, tail wagging as it notices her looking at it. Blearily, Pearl reaches over to stroke the dog’s muzzle, scratching behind its ear as it pants. The dog starts to lick her hand, the sensation making her shiver slightly.
“Hey, buddy,” she murmurs. Her hand, stained with blood, dirt packed under her nails, must not taste very good, but she supposes dogs don’t have that much of a complex palette.
It takes her a moment longer to question why her hand is still bloodstained. Why her dog is still here, tail wagging and panting. Why she isn’t back home, in Hermitcraft, where she should be.
Pearl sits up. Sure enough, she’s still on the mountain. There are scorch marks where Scott once stood, his body gone. As if it was never there. As if he was never there.
“Scott?” Her voice comes out rough. She swallows, wincing at the sharp pain and coppery taste in her mouth. Still, she is no stranger to pain, and Pearl pushes herself to her feet. “Scott? Not funny, mate, where are you?”
Nothing. The only answer to her calls is the sound of wind rustling through the trees, and her dogs. The one brushing against her legs– Buddy, she’s decided– whines softly. Pearl laughs, and scratches between its ears. Better to focus on the dog than the fear that slowly creeps over her like frost on a window.
“Maybe he’s moved,” she says, and starts her journey around the server.
The server isn’t fully in ruin. The builds stand as they once did; fire still eats away at some of them, and Pearl gives those plenty of space. Wouldn’t want to get caught in a collapse if one were to happen. None of the buildings were structurally sound anymore, apart from her tower and maybe the box. But still, they stand.
The worst thing about it, Pearl thinks, is how horrifically empty it all is. When she isn’t speaking, the sound of her dogs might be the only thing on the server making noise.
It scares Pearl. It scares her more than she’s willing to admit. She’s used to loneliness, but this? This is different.
The wind picks up. Pearl stands in the middle of a field, unshielded by trees or hills, and shivers.
Pearl knows a few things.
- She is alone.
- Winter is coming.
- She is not ready.
She had thought the server would’ve been frozen in time with everyone else gone, but that theory had been quickly dashed by the sun’s rise and fall. Unfortunately, it hadn’t really occurred to her that the seasons would continue as well, and now…
The tower was always chilly, high up as it was, and the lack of windows made it even worse. That wasn’t even mentioning the repairs she had to do to the top part after it was torched. She hadn’t exactly done the best job, and the tower remained drafty and cold. It didn’t bother her too much, though– with the amount of dogs she had, their warmth kept her from freezing.
Pearl knew she needed to move when, one morning, she looked out and saw frost turning the grass a silvery green. The tower isn’t a suitable home anymore. She feels a strange sort of grief as she begins to move her things to the bottom of the tower, and further still into the woods to create a better home for the winter.
“It’s better this way anyhow,” Pearl says to Buddy. “This way, you don’t have to climb up to the tower with me. It’s just safer.”
Buddy, who understood none of that, barks happily and brushes against her legs. Pearl laughs.
Scott would’ve called her insane for talking to her dogs like this. Like they were human and could understand her. But Scott wasn’t here. Scott didn’t understand what it was like to be so alone, left behind as the cold crept slowly over the land like a shadow. Scott didn’t matter, here and now, when all that there was, was Pearl and her dogs.
Honestly, Pearl would argue that talking to her dogs made her less insane. The loneliness would’ve killed her before any kind of mob or cold, and she’d prefer to stay alive as long as possible. That way, when someone came looking for her, she’d be there to greet them.
If, the nagging voice in the back of her mind whispers, you don’t know if anyone will come for you. And why should they? You have no one. No friends. No team. No soulmate. Why would anyone care?
Pearl shoos that nagging voice away. She instead turns to the happier thoughts of “if I die, there’s a chance I’ll never respawn again”.
Fun!
There’s an area in the forest that’s somewhat cleared, though still surrounded by enough trees to serve as a good windbreak. Pearl will still have to chop some trees down to clear the area, so she lifts her ax and gets to work.
Pearl is rather strong– she’s always been, due to her builds requiring heavy lifting to transport many materials– but even so, chopping down trees in the cold sucks. The sky is blanketed by gray clouds, an ominous sign of the weather to come. She curses herself for not thinking to do this build sooner.
Agonizing over the past won't help her now, though. If it did help, maybe things would’ve ended differently. Maybe she’d be back at home with her friends, instead of freezing alone in this cold world.
At least she has her dogs. That mantra repeats in the back of her mind like a lifeline. At least she isn’t truly alone. And really, dogs make much better company than people.
Pearl still finds herself missing Scar. The moments they shared together, while brief, had at least brought some light to her otherwise bleak world. They had been suffering, but at least they were able to suffer together.
Even before that, she misses Gem. Pearl tries not to wonder what Gem is up to back on Hermitcraft, tries not to think about her voice, her smile, her warmth. It’s hard, when Pearl is so cold, to not long for the bright and sunny Gem that she loves so dearly. She tries, anyway, because thinking about what she’s missing will drive her insane.
The last tree falls with a deciding crash. Pearl goes through the motions with this one as well; chopping it up into smaller parts and putting it in her inventory. It’s a bit of a mess, filled with sticks and logs, but she’ll organize it later.
(“Later” happens not even two minutes after that thought. She couldn’t stand to have a messy inventory for any longer.)
She decides to build a cottage, of sorts. Whether that was because she was missing Gem, or just wanted to be cozy, Pearl couldn’t figure out. She didn’t exactly want to spend the time on that either. Insanity, she thinks, comes when you’re too aware of your unfortunate circumstances.
Pearl is good at building. She always has been, creatively minded as she is. If she doesn’t think about it too hard, she can pretend she’s just doing another build back on Hermitcraft.
The foundation is laid down, then the support beams. Already, Pearl thinks about adding gradients and detailing. It wouldn’t be too hard to get things like deepslate and smelt down some cobble, but she stops herself from going down that train of thought and continues building the skeleton of her house.
That much, at least, is finished by the time the sun goes down. Torch in hand, Pearl makes her way back to the tower for one last frigid night.
It’s almost bittersweet, saying goodbye to the tower. It’s been just as stout an ally as Tilly and her pups. Pearl takes a minute to rest her hand against the cobble wall, pressing her forehead to the rough surface. “Thanks, mate,” she whispers. “Couldn’t have done this without you.”
Buddy weaves through her legs, silver-gray fur sticking to her black pants like tufts of fluffy snow. She takes this as a sign to head back to her cottage and continue building, though she casts one last nostalgic glance back at the tower before making her way into the forest.
The building today is a bit easier. The foundation and supports set, all Pearl has to do is follow the layout. The walls come up quickly, and Pearl gives it a quick triangular roof to finish it off. Made mostly of spruce and oak, it’s a very cozy build, but Pearl can’t help missing her tower.
She shakes her head. Stop, she tells herself, stop thinking about what you miss. Insanity, Pearl!
“I wonder if Grian and Scar have sand,” she wonders out loud, then looks down at Buddy. “For windows! Gotta have that natural light. Oh, and I’ll need a place to put my bed down… thank goodness I still had one in the tower.”
And, she’s reminded as a bitterly cold wind makes her shiver, she’ll need warmer clothes. A steady food supply as well, which means she’ll have to build a warm shelter for the chickens and cows that were left behind by the other players. If there’s any food to be scavenged from the empty builds, she would have to do that as well.
The list of tasks begins to steadily grow, becoming more and more daunting by the minute. Pearl tries not to think about it. One thing at a time. She can do that. One thing at a time.
It would be so much easier if there was someone else around to help her. Maybe then, the cold wouldn’t feel so biting, and the wind wouldn’t sound like the wailing of a lone wolf.
What did she do to deserve something like this?
Pearl chokes back a sob, and pinches herself. “Oop! Don’t have time for that, ya nugget!” She scolds herself, trying to keep her voice from breaking even as she blinks back tears. “Right. Sand. And while I’m at it, food.”
Food, luckily, was not in scarce supply this season. Pearl is able to swipe some bread from the house Bdubs and Impulse had built. There were cows wandering around the Ranch, and everyone had been smarter than to hunt them to extinction around the rest of the server.
Pearl takes some slightly frostbitten wheat and slowly coaxes a few cows back to her cottage. They seem a little more hesitant than usual, likely because of the wheat’s poor state, making the task take longer than Pearl would’ve liked. Still, she manages to make it back with the cows, and throws the wheat down for them to snack on while she quickly builds a pen. It’s little more than a roof and three walls, which extend a little further than the fence keeping the cows in to break the wind.
Luring the cows into the pen without wheat, frostbitten or otherwise, proves an annoying enough task that Pearl calls her dogs over to “herd” (read: scare) the cows into the pen. Not the safest thing, but it works.
With that done, Pearl glances up at the sky. It’s getting into the evening, but she still needs sand, so she grabs a torch just in case and heads back toward Grian and Scar’s house. Buddy, ever-reliable, trots beside Pearl’s side, giving her enough space so that she wouldn’t trip, but close enough to occasionally brush against her legs.
There’s no doubt in her mind that Buddy is one of Tilly’s first pups. There’s a sort of awareness in its eyes that reminds Pearl of Tilly; an intelligence that makes her think of her family.
“You’re more of a wolf than a puppy, huh, Buddy?” she asks, reaching down with her free hand to pet its head. “You’re a wild thing. Just like me.”
Buddy huffs softly. Just like when she was younger, Pearl finds herself wishing she could understand. She can’t, and like with everything else she’s wishing for, she tries not to think about it.
The trip to Scar and Grian’s base is uneventful, but Pearl keeps her eye on the sky. There are clouds on the horizon that she doesn’t like the look of. She just hopes she can finish her house before it starts snowing.
Thankfully, there was some sand left in their chests that Pearl swiped, and took their coal and wood while she was at it. She’d need plenty of fuel– and with that thought, she takes their furnace as well, placing it in her inventory.
“Sorry, Scar,” she says to the sky, “but you would’ve done this when I was alive, if you could.”
He’d probably laugh at that. Or maybe he wouldn’t, and instead scorn her for stealing from a dead man. Pearl didn’t know. She couldn’t think about that now, though.
Bringing the torch proves to have been a good call on the walk back to the cottage. The clouds cover the sky, and the sun begins setting. Pearl makes it back before night fully falls, hurrying to get inside her cottage and get to smelting the sand.
While the sand turns to glass, Pearl brings the rest of her things inside, setting up for the night. She puts her bed close to the furnace, if only to stay a little warmer.
Tomorrow, she’ll try to find sheep. She’ll need their wool for the coming winter.
For now, she grabs the still-warm glass and places it into the framed holes in the wall. Already her cottage feels warmer than the tower, and Pearl climbs into bed and easily falls asleep.
The world is blanketed with white when Pearl wakes. If she squints, she can see the tiniest snowflakes still coming down through the window. The furnace, long extinguished, offers no warmth, so Pearl gets up to burn some leaves and sticks from her tree chopping the other day. She stays by the furnace long enough to get feeling back in her fingers and nose.
She has to get her tasks done today, and fast. She doesn’t know if the weather is going to take a turn for the worse, and she’d rather not be stuck without the things she needed.
Putting on her boots and pulling her hood up to shield her face at least somewhat, Pearl sets out to find sheep.
At least her dogs seem to be having fun. Snow seems to slide off their coats like water off a duck’s back. They’re more built for winter than she is. Honestly, she’s glad– she wouldn’t want them to suffer in this kind of weather like she does.
Pearl decides not to call for Buddy to join her. Buddy is, after all, a wolf, and that might not be too good for her goal of bringing sheep back alive. She leaves the dogs to play, and makes her way toward the Ranch. If there are sheep around, they’ll likely be there.
It didn’t snow too much, but the fresh powder makes it somewhat difficult to walk. Luckily, her boots are tall enough to keep the snow from getting in. Thank goodness for that, because she doesn’t currently have the leather needed to repair or replace them.
Finding sheep is easier than Pearl thought it would be. The difficult part is getting them to follow her– finding wheat under the snow is a nigh-impossible task. Still, she manages it. She has to, to survive.
A funny thing, surviving. It’s everything in the death games, and is everything now that they’re over, but it feels different in a way Pearl can’t quite describe. Maybe it’s the loneliness, maybe it’s something else, but it’s almost… harder. Harder now, that there’s no guaranteed ending. Now that she’s alone. Now that, despite everything she went through, the world has deemed to give her more.
She can’t think about it. She can’t. It’s not good to think about it. She’ll be fine. She’ll get through it, just like how she got through the death games.
Right, that little nagging voice in the back of her mind says. Because you did so well on your own last time.
Nope! Not thinking about it.
Pearl had the foresight to partition the stable into a few separate parts, so she herds the sheep into their own area. She did make an error with the building of the stable, though– only three walls was a mistake. She’ll have to fully enclose it to make sure the animals stay warm and protected against the snow.
“Sorry,” she says to the cows as she brushes some snow off of them. “I’ll get on that right now, how about it?”
The cow she’s currently brushing off lets out a long, low moo. Pearl mimics the sound, laughing slightly at how the cow looks almost startled. “Right. I’ll get to building, then.”
There’s plenty of wood in her chests, thankfully. The build isn’t that complicated anyway– she just connects the two side walls that extend past the stalls. After that, it’s just a matter of clearing away the last of the snow that made it into the stalls, and she has herself a fully functional barn.
Pearl clears away the area in front of the newly installed door. It looks so much better already, and she’s glad she got it done before the weather became even worse. The snow had slowly been picking up throughout the day, and her numb fingers made it difficult to open the door back into the house.
Some spare logs go into the furnace. Turning them into charcoal will help her in the long run, when it’s too cold to go mining.
Her dogs are still playing outside, and Pearl knows they can handle themselves, but she calls them in anyway. After everything, she only has five or six dogs left, so they can easily fit in her cottage with her. She makes sure to brush the majority of the snow off of them before they come in, though.
She curls up by the furnace with her pack, snacking on some bread that she warmed with the fire. Feeling finally returning to her extremities and warmth spreading through her body, it’s easy to fall asleep on the floor with her head lying on Buddy’s flank.
Pearl wakes hours later, when it’s pitch black outside and the furnace has gone cold. Her dogs are asleep around her. She takes care to try not to wake them as she stands, wincing at the soreness that comes from sleeping on the floor. She’s cold, but not freezing, but she puts the charcoal she made earlier in the furnace and lights it, placing a few more logs in to burn.
Buddy stirs at the crackling of the furnace, lifting their head and looking over at Pearl sleepily. Pearl smiles back, but she doesn’t say anything so as to not wake her other dogs.
As she climbs into bed, Buddy stands and makes their way to her, hopping up to curl up over her legs. Pearl hums softly, and falls asleep once more.
It’s hard to feel lonely when all you’re focused on is surviving.
The first few weeks of winter, Pearl is up from dawn til dusk working on her house, her barn, and gathering supplies. The last one proves to be the most tedious and perilous task, as it often requires leaving the vicinity of her home and trekking out into the wilderness. Thank goodness for her sheep– their wool gives her mittens and a lining for her hoodie, which keeps her from freezing. In return, she makes sure the barn is always warm. Charcoal can be burnt a few times, so she keeps that in a few furnaces placed throughout the barn to act as heaters.
Still, she needs more coal, and food. She’d prefer to have a few more sheep and cows before culling, and she’s getting pretty tired of stale bread. Unfortunately, she’s scavenged everything she can, and the hunting is rather poor in the winter. At least she has monsters that she can feed to her dogs, though they can take care of themselves better than she could.
During her hunt for the remaining few animals in the winter weather, Pearl walks past the ship that Joel and Etho had lived in during the death game. What had they called it? The Relation-ship?
It’s so stupid, and so completely them, that Pearl can’t help but laugh. The state it’s in, burnt and partially collapsed, sobers her up somewhat. It’s too dangerous for her to go and look for supplies in there, so she stands back and just looks at it.
It hurts. Seeing the build like that, it hurts. All of a sudden, the loneliness that she’s been ignoring for weeks crashes back down on her. Pearl quickly turns away. She can’t afford to cry right now. She can’t afford to think about it.
Her breaking point comes, not a minute later, when she stumbles into the barrier. It glows, translucent blue and purple, where she touches it. Pearl steps back, looking up at the invisible wall, and feels her heart crumble.
She’s trapped. Trapped, and alone, with no way home and no one coming to save her.
Pearl falls to her knees in the snow, curling in on herself as she begins to cry. As soon as the tears start, she isn’t able to stop them. The warm tracks they make down her face turn ice-cold as soon as the winter air meets them.
She wants to go home. She wants to see her friends again. She wants to be warm, and surrounded by voices and laughter, and feel whole.
Pearl sobs, hugging herself. Why? Why did this have to happen? As if she hadn’t suffered enough.
Did the universe hate her? Perhaps this was her punishment, for defying its will. She didn’t stay with her soulmate– was this her fault? Maybe she was stuck here because of her actions.
But… that didn’t make sense. If that was why she was stuck here, why weren’t the others? Scott, Martyn, Cleo? Was it because they had each other? Martyn did try to make up with Cleo, after all.
Or…
Maybe the others had asked Grian to keep her there. They all thought she was insane; maybe they thought it was best she be contained. Away from everyone else, isolated in a place where she couldn’t hurt anyone.
Pearl presses her hands against the barrier. “Please,” she gets out in between sobs, “please! Is anyone out there?” She gasps for air, her vision blurring with the next wave of tears. “Please, someone, anyone. I’m stuck in here! You– you left me! I’m here!”
She slams her fists against the barrier and sobs. The blue-purple light ripples all the way up the barrier, until Pearl can’t see it anymore. She sniffles, furiously wiping away her tears. “Please,” she whispers, her voice carried away by the wind, “please, I’m scared. I want to go home.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, let me come home. Please.”
Her only answer is the wind.
Pearl comes home with empty hands and a hollow heart. She’d like nothing more than to collapse on her bed and go to sleep, but she has her own responsibilities to tend to. She cleans out the stables and refills the animals’ water and food, numb from something other than cold.
Her dogs are out hunting. Pearl goes through the motions of putting sticks in the furnace to burn, and curls up on her bed. She can’t even cry anymore. She feels nothing.
Maybe it’s for the best.
Pearl falls asleep.
Pearl wakes to the silence of the night being interrupted. She is quick to forget the fading echoes of what she would’ve thought to be thunder, had there been clouds to herald a possible storm.
She groans, rolling over and burying her face in her pillow, not wanting to wake up just yet. Her body feels sluggish. She hasn't slept enough, and the cold winter air is hardly inviting her to get up.
A few blissful moments of peace pass before her dogs start howling.
Now obligated to get up, Pearl rolls onto her back and opens her eyes. She blinks a few times, then sits upright. A quick glance out her window tells her it’s still nighttime. The reason why she woke up is clear to her instantly– the sky is streaked with ribbons of green and pink.
The northern lights.
Pearl would prefer to stay inside and watch them from the warmth of her home, but her dogs demand otherwise. She blearily gets out of bed and pulls on her warmer clothes, stepping outside to the first clear night she’s seen in weeks.
The moon is full, and the stars shine distantly, providing more than enough light for Pearl to see her dogs. “Come here, babies! It’s alright, just some lights! Nothin’ to be afraid of.”
It takes a few moments, but her dogs eventually stop their howling and come trotting over, shaking off as they get out of the snow. Buddy is the last one in, making sure the others are all inside before brushing against Pearl’s legs, tail wagging.
Pearl reaches down to pet Buddy. Their thick winter coat is soft, and Pearl sighs happily at the sensation of running her fingers through their silken fur. Straightening back up, she stands aside to let Buddy in the house as well.
It might be her imagination, but Buddy looks like they’re getting bigger. At least her dogs weren’t struggling to find enough food.
Pearl looks back up at the sky. It’s beautiful. She hasn’t seen such a clear night sky in weeks, and the northern lights are bright and vibrant. The pink is more of a purple, and the green has shades of blue in it. It’s almost magical.
She exhales. Her breath makes a cloud in the air. Now that her dogs have stopped howling, the night is eerily quiet. The wind has calmed down for now, and the few creatures that come out at night tend to stay far away from Pearl’s cottage due to her dogs.
Pearl wonders if animals have stopped naturally spawning. Given the barrier is still there, she assumes more animals can’t just wander in on their own accord. And, assuming the game rules are still the same (which they must be, due to the passage of time), she’d have to be correct. Animals shouldn’t be able to naturally spawn anymore.
Unfortunate, but she can at least breed her own sheep and cows for now. She’d managed to set up a makeshift wheat farm in a corner of the barn, warmed by the furnaces and lit by lanterns. It was enough, at least, to keep her animals fed and in good conditions. Any wheat that wasn’t fit for consumption for her animals was turned into bedding for them. It was a bit of an annoying process, drying out the grain and making sure it was fit for them to lie on, but at least she could do it in the warmth of the barn.
Pearl spends another moment gazing up at the sky. Her face is beginning to hurt from the cold, so she ducks back into her house and shuts the door. A few more sticks and dried leaves go into the furnace to burn before she collapses into her bed once more.
Buddy doesn’t join her on the bed this time, but they do curl up in front of it. The other dogs have already made their own cuddle pile, and Pearl pulls her blanket over her. She can still see the northern lights even when she closes her eyes, so she turns to face away from the window.
Maybe she should consider making curtains of some sort, or blinds. Neither are necessary for her survival, though, so she probably won’t make them any time soon.
With those thoughts, Pearl finds herself drifting off to sleep once more.
It’s been a little over a month since Pearl was left behind.
She’s been marking each day down on paper she found in someone’s base. Charcoal is easy enough to write with, since it’s easier to get than a quill and ink, but it does get all over her hands. A little annoying, but she can always wash the charcoal off with snow.
Pearl keeps a few buckets outside to collect snow as it falls. After that, all she does is boil it for a few minutes to make sure it’s safe to drink. She does the same for her animals, pouring their water into troughs for them to drink from.
It’s about time to cull the sheep and cows, which is exciting for Pearl. She’ll make good use of the leather and wool that she gets from them, not to mention the meat. Some of it, she’ll cure with salt. She also plans on leaving some in a chest outside, which she’ll cover in snow to keep cold. Most of it, she’ll cook and store in a similar manner, keeping it outdoors to stay cold.
While she’s working on that, she feeds her wolves some of the raw meat. Buddy is especially happy with it, and Pearl pats their head. It’s a nice enough day that Pearl can do this work outside, in a little shed that she constructed. The sun is shining, and there’s little wind to bring the temperatures down even further. She doubts that this kind of weather will come around often as the winter grows more intense.
The work is backbreaking, but luckily, she’s able to finish before the sun goes down. For the first time in over a month, Pearl doesn’t go to bed hungry.
The next day is also quite pleasant. The sun is shining once again, and Pearl decides to go mining. It’ll be nice to have more coal and iron, and she might as well chop down some trees while she’s at it.
While she’s walking through the forest, she stumbles upon something she wasn’t expecting. A nether portal, fully lit and glowing softly.
It takes her a moment to fully grasp the situation. If she had a nether portal, then she had access to an infinite supply of lava. It would be so much easier to keep herself and her animals warm.
The only thing that makes Pearl hesitate is the fact that the nether is, well, dangerous. She doesn’t want to die in case her fears from before were proven true– in case she never respawned.
Still, it’s worth trying. Pearl isn’t too awful at defending herself anyway, in case it came down to that.
She steps into the portal, hand on the hilt of her sword, and waits.
Instead of being transported into the fiery landscape, Pearl feels a wave of nausea wash over her. It’s strong enough to send her stumbling back out, taking a few gasping breaths of air to try and settle her stomach. Her vision clearing, she looks back up at the portal. It looks like a normal nether portal, so why was she reacting this way? Had she suddenly developed an allergy to nether portal travel? No, that was stupid, there wasn’t anything like that.
Then why was it acting so strangely?
Pearl reaches out, and, after a moment, presses her hand against the obsidian. It’s cold– she didn’t expect anything else– but the light coming from the nether portal itself is warm, which she confirms a moment later by quickly sticking her hand inside.
The whispers of the portal grow softer as Pearl steps back, tilting her head slightly as she gazes at it. Everything she knows tells her that the portal should be working. There was no reason for it to not be. The other gamerules are acting as they should be; time flows, season changes, and the barrier is up. So why wouldn’t nether travel work?
Maybe it was due to her being the lone player, but Pearl dismisses that thought almost as soon as she has it. She’s been alone on worlds before, and that’s never stopped her from traveling into the nether or the end, for that matter.
Then it hits her. Pearl wasn’t an admin of the server. She remembers, vaguely, a conversation that she’d been half asleep for, where Grian told her the servers for the death games couldn’t run multiple dimensions if an admin wasn’t around. Hermitcraft was a little different, in the sense that it wasn’t exactly a hardcore series.
Pearl sighs, and turns away from the portal. She didn’t need the nether, but it would’ve been nice to be able to access. Dimensional travel not working just serves as another harsh reminder for how trapped she is in this world.
Well. Nothing she can do about it now, she supposes. Might as well go complete her current objective of the day, and chop down some trees to bring home.
Luckily for her, several trees have fallen down, making her job just a little bit easier. She chops the trees up and places the logs in her inventory. She comes back home with a nice mix of spruce, oak, and birch. She places everything in her storage, now nicely organized in a side room that she’s mostly closed off to conserve heat.
While she’s thinking about it, and the weather is nice, it’s about time she added a fireplace and chimney to her home. Having the furnace as a heat source is fine, but she’d like to have a real fire to sit by. Of course, she’ll have to take care to make sure none of her dogs accidentally step into it, but that’s just a matter of raising the fireplace up a block.
Pearl has to build fast. She doesn’t want to be trapped with a hole in her house when night begins to fall, especially with how cold it's been recently. Wool has gone to lining all of her clothes, and she’s currently in the process of making a wool blanket to sleep under as well.
She puts the guidelines for the chimney and fireplace up first, before tearing down any part of her house. Once that’s over, and she’s satisfied with the edits she’s made, Pearl takes her ax and begins chopping.
She makes it just in time, placing down the campfire in its place just as night is falling. Her dogs are scratching at the door, and Pearl laughs at the whimpering whines they let out as she walks over to let them in. “I’m coming, babies! I’m coming, don’t worry.”
As usual, Buddy is the last one in. Pearl knows her eyes aren’t deceiving her this time when she notices just how big Buddy has grown. “Now, little pup,” she starts, a lighthearted tone in her voice, “you wouldn’t happen to be stealing food from my other babies, would you?” She pats Buddy’s side, laughing as they press their nose against her. “Oh, you. Well, I’m glad the hunting has been good.”
Buddy huffs, and trots over to the fireplace to investigate the new build, sniffing at it curiously. After a minute, when they find no food or treats, Buddy turns away and settles with the rest of the pack.
Pearl watches them from the door for a moment. It’s nostalgic– looking at the pack makes her think of her family. The wolves had raised her from pup to teen, before she left of her own accord to join a server with more people on it.
She misses it, sometimes. The wolves and the wild. She supposes she’s there now, out in the wilderness with her pack, but it’s different this time. Perhaps her lack of choice in the matter made this time feel lonelier. It would make sense. She’s become much more social than she was as a teen as well, likely due to her acclimation to having other people around.
Still. Pearl is grateful for her pack. Chosen or not, she’s glad they’re here with her.
She lights a fire in the fireplace, then makes her way to her bed. Falling asleep is easy, when she’s worked herself to the point of exhaustion every single day.
Sleep holds nothing but darkness for her on most nights. Tonight, however, is different. Scott is there, and he’s smiling.
Pearl’s breath stutters. Her eyes widen as she steps forward, bow falling from her bloodstained hand. “Scott?” Her voice is hoarse, shaking. “Scott, what are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer her. He just stands there, with a sad smile on his face, as Pearl approaches.
She’s stopped after a few steps, as if by some invisible barrier. “Wait– Scott, why are you here? I thought you left.” Trying not to tear up proves a futile task, and Pearl’s vision blurs. “Scott, please, say something. Speak to me!”
Silence.
Sadness turns quickly to anger. Pearl’s hands clench into fists as she takes in shaky breaths. “Why did you leave? What did I do to you, Scott?! I never left you– never!” She slams her fists against the invisible wall. “So why?” Her breath catches in her throat, and all of her emotions leave her in that exhale.
Pearl deflates, and slowly sinks to her knees. The same familiar numbness starts to sink in once more as she breathes, in and out, becoming all-too aware of her heart beating in her chest.
“You deserve this more than I do,” Scott says. His voice comes out warped and distorted, with overtones of Gem and Grian bleeding through. Pearl can hear Martyn’s voice mixed in, and Cleo’s biting tone is hidden in there as well.
“Don’t,” Pearl begs. She knows her pleas fall on deaf ears.
“Tilly death do us part, Pearl. Tilly death do us–”
Pearl jolts up in bed, fingers trembling from the explosion she knows didn’t actually happen. For a few days after the one she really lived (did she really?) through, her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and she felt a cold emptiness.
Now, the emptiness is filled with fear and sorrow. And Pearl realizes–
She can’t breathe.
She can’t breathe.
She’s going to die out here. She’s going to die in the cold, alone, with no one around to hear her last dying gasps. Pearl claws at her chest, trying to force herself to calm down, to breathe, to breathe, to breathe–
There’s a weight on her, then a wet nose presses against her cheek.
Buddy is there, whining softly, nudging themselves against Pearl. They lie over her legs, adding a comforting weight to her. With their tail swishing back and forth over her legs, Pearl finds she’s able to breathe again after a few more moments of struggling.
She sniffles softly, letting the tears run freely down her face for a minute before wiping them away. “Thanks, Buddy,” she croaks out, swallowing harshly. “I really needed that.”
Pearl reaches over to the crafting table she uses as a bedside desk and grabs her wooden cup of water. Glass was too precious a resource to use on a cup, and she had managed to snag some beeswax to make the wood more water-resistant and safe to drink from.
Sipping from the cup, Pearl tries to calm her racing heart. She starts humming softly to herself. It’s no real song that she knows, just a silly improvised melody, but it’s calming to her.
She’s always loved music. Singing and humming was her way of keeping herself occupied during long, lonely mining trips, or tiresome builds that took up hours of her time.
Now, she uses it to ground herself back in reality. Even if the reality she’s in isn’t one she wants to be in right now.
Stroking Buddy’s head while she hums, Pearl lets herself sink back into the bed. It’s hardly the softest thing, but she’s glad she has it at all, even after everything else was taken away from her.
Buddy shuffles around to lie down next to her, pushing close to be able to stay on the bed. Pearl, once more, falls asleep. This time, at least, her rest is uninterrupted by nightmares.
Dragging a pine tree back to her house without it losing all of its needles is not a task for the weak. It makes Pearl wish she had sled dogs, but she knows better than to try training her wolves. They may be her pack, but they are still wild animals. If Pearl knew anything about wolves, it was that they didn’t like being told what to do.
So, she’s stuck with dragging the tree to her house by hand. Even after choosing the smallest tree– it wasn’t even taller than her, for goodness sake!– it was still quite a bit of work.
Pearl manages, though. The tree is set up in her house, and she hangs a few lanterns from the branches as decoration.
She steps back to admire her handiwork. It’s quite drab in comparison to other Christmas decorations she’s done in the past, but she’s proud of it. “I’m startin’ to feel a little festive, Buddy!”
Buddy huffs softly from where she’s lying curled around her pups. The new mother is clearly tired from dealing with the pack and her children, and Pearl can’t blame her.
When Buddy had come home with two small pups and a satisfied look in her eyes, Pearl cursed herself for being so stupid. She was raised by wolves! How had she not known?
To be fair, wolves don’t usually have pups in the winter. Rather poor decision on their part, if you asked Pearl, but she supposes the pack had plenty of support with Pearl letting them into her house and feeding them.
Besides, she’d never say no to having two more adorable little puppies. She named them Cinnamon and Sugar, because it just felt right.
With the weather taking a turn for the worse recently, Pearl is glad Buddy decided to stay with her in the house. That way Pearl could keep an eye on the pups, and on Buddy.
And! They could watch her decorate for Christmas.
Honestly, Pearl didn’t know why she was bothering with all the decorations. It wasn’t like there was anyone else around to see them or to even celebrate with her. But at the same time, it helped to lift her spirits at least a little.
She even took it upon herself to hunt down skeletons to get bones for all her dogs. Her arm still hurt from the arrow that managed to find its target, but other than that, everything was going perfectly.
Pearl pauses at that thought. A month ago, she wouldn’t have described her situation as “perfect”. Perhaps her standards have just fallen after several weeks in isolation. Or maybe she’s learned to appreciate the smaller things in life.
Funny. Isn’t that supposed to be the true meaning of Christmas or something?
Pearl snorts, and pulls on her boots and coat. It had started snowing heavily while she was setting up the tree, and she needs to grab the cured pork she planned to eat for her Christmas dinner.
Though all the celebration is nice and helps to lift her spirits, Pearl still can’t help but feel a little down. Not celebrating as she usually would, with the people she usually would, makes the whole thing a little less special. She tries not to think about it, though.
They’ll come back for me, she thinks to herself as she pries open the chest where she stored her pork, they’ll come back for me and bring me home.
Pearl rushes back inside to get out the snow and cold. She kicks off her boots into the small boot tray she made to keep the floors from getting wet from the snow on her boots melting, and places the pork into a pan before she takes off her jacket.
She’ll cook it later when it’s a little more thawed. For now, Pearl feels a bone deep exhaustion settling in, and decides to sleep. Just for a little while, so she can be energized for the rest of the day.
Pearl wakes to Buddy whining and freezing cold air.
She’s out of bed before she knows it, stumbling, half-awake and still blinking the sleep out of her eyes, to the fireplace. It had gone out– why? Pearl stocked it with plenty of wood and coal, the flames should’ve lasted– and plunged the house into the dark and cold.
Pearl’s numb fingers fumble with the flint and steel as she tries to relight the fire. She’s shaking, her breath making clouds in the air. The flint and steel sparks. Pearl drops it, and curses, scrambling to pick it back up.
Finally, she gets the fire lit. A shaky breath leaves Pearl as she falls back, watching the flames lick up the wood. She doesn’t have time to sit around, and quickly checks on Buddy and her pups. They’re fine, surrounded by warm wool and blankets as they are, but Pearl puts some wood in the furnace as well to burn.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers to Buddy, her teeth still chattering slightly from the cold, “I don’t know why the fire went out. I really am sorry.”
Buddy whines softly. Pearl reaches out and pets her gently, scratching behind her ears. The dog leans into the scratches, panting as her tail wags.
Once Pearl is sure the pups are okay, she trudges back to bed. It’s hard to fall asleep again after that, but as the room becomes warmer and exhaustion catches up to her, Pearl drifts off.
She dreams of the Void. The swirling, ever-changing mass of darkness and Code and magic.
Pearl floats in the space that is everything and nothing. Closing her eyes only brings her the same sight– the Void is everything and everywhere. There is no escape.
So she floats. And waits. She’ll wake up soon, Pearl knows. And then she’ll go back to the motions, go back to the cold and the loneliness.
The barrier.
A thought that isn’t her own? How strange. Stranger still, it sounds familiar.
Pearl, the barrier. Y–
The voice cuts out as Pearl drifts further. She can’t listen– shouldn’t listen, to the voices that remind her only of what she’s missing. She can’t think about it. Something about insanity…
Pearl, listen to me. I know you’re there. You need to break the barrier.
Pearl grumbles, squeezing her eyes shut. It doesn’t help at all. If she could speak to tell this dream voice to go away, she would.
Oh my goodness– Pearl! Come on! Gosh, you’re really frustrating, you know that?
Am not, Pearl thinks. You’re the frustrating one.
I’m trying to save you! Pearl! The barrier!
Pearl would’ve sighed if she were able to. Instead, she lets herself drift further.
She wakes up. Gem’s voice lingers in her mind, a painful reminder of what Pearl is missing.
Pearl doesn’t want to get her hopes up.
Staking everything on what she heard in a dream is hardly her smartest move. But still, Pearl has no other option. No other way of escape.
Cinnamon and Sugar are wrestling in the snow a meter or so away from the barrier where Pearl stands, inspecting the translucent wall. Buddy presses against her legs, occasionally stopping to nudge her pups apart when they get a little too vicious.
Pearl sighs, putting her hands on her hips. “Well, Buddy. I suppose I’ve got nothing to lose, yeah?” She unsheathes her sword. “Stay back, girl.”
Buddy ushers her pups back from where Pearl is standing, then a little further at Pearl’s urging. She doesn’t want something to happen if something went wrong with her attacking the barrier.
Pearl shifts her stance to be a little more secure, and grips the handle with both hands. All that’s left is to swing, and attempt to “break the barrier”, in dream-Gem’s words.
She has nothing left to lose.
So why is she hesitating?
Pearl’s breath hitches. She’s shaking. It could all be over if she just brought herself to swing her sword, but at the same time…
She lowers the sword. “What if it’s not real?” she voices to the wind, to the snow, to whatever gods abandoned her. What if the voice was truly just a hallucination, just a dream, and she’ll be disappointed when she tries to escape? What if nothing happens, and she remains stuck?
Pearl slowly sits down in the snow, diamond sword set beside her, and thinks.
After a moment of realizing she clearly isn’t going to swing her sword, Buddy approaches, padding toward her with a sympathetic whine. The wolf collapses over Pearl’s legs, exposing her belly.
Pearl laughs softly, petting the soft fur. “Oh, sweet angel… my sweet baby… you’ve been by my side for so long, huh?” She leans closer, gently resting her forehead against Buddy’s stomach. “You’ve got a little bit of Tilly in you, don’tcha? She’d be proud of you. Keepin’ me safe and sane after all this time.”
Buddy huffs. Having had enough of Pearl petting her stomach, she rolls over to continue crushing Pearl’s legs right-side up.
Pearl gazes up at the barrier. It’s an intimidating thing, despite it not looking like much. It practically looked like it was made out of glad wrap. Still, knowing what she knows about it, Pearl can’t help but be a little frightened.
This is it. This is the only thing that keeps her trapped. The thing that has kept her isolated for months, away from her loved ones. A never-ending translucent wall that stood between her and her freedom.
Even if it doesn’t work… at least she can walk away knowing she tried.
Pearl takes a deep breath. “Right, Buddy. I might as well give it a go.” She pats Buddy’s side before wedging her hands under Buddy to guide the dog off her legs. Pearl stands, shrugging off her wool-lined hoodie. She picks up her sword and faces the barrier once more.
“Here goes nothing, I suppose.”
Pearl raises her sword and drives it into the barrier.
The reaction is electric. Sparks fly from the point of contact, and Pearl immediately has to brace herself against the unexpected pushback. Of course breaking the barrier wasn’t going to be easy, but she hadn’t been prepared for the amount of force it was going to take.
Pearl grits her teeth, and continues pushing.
Sparks turn into miniature bolts of lightning. Stabs of a noise like static pierce the silence of the forest, and the humming of the barrier grows louder and louder. Pearl can’t tell if it’s the barrier that’s screaming, or her.
The barrier does not start bending, nor does it give way to her assault. But the translucence changes– the blues and purples fade into reds that begin to bleed throughout the near-invisible wall. As if she’s hurting it. As if Pearl’s weapon is causing the barrier to bleed.
Pearl’s arms ache. All of her concentration is taken up by making sure she doesn’t slip in the snow, making sure she doesn’t get thrown backward by the amount of force the barrier is meeting her with. Sweat drips down her forehead as the exertion begins to take a toll on her.
There’s something Pearl remembers about an unstoppable object meeting an immovable force. She had always heard it in reference to other people– her friends, mostly, when met with a challenge that seemed near impossible– but never thought it would be applied to herself.
Don’t stop, she begs herself. Keep pushing. Keep moving.
Pearl gasps for air. The barrier is emanating a huge amount of heat, as if it were a pressurized container needing to let out steam lest it explodes. Indeed, the heat it releases does cause steam as it meets with the cold air around her, making it slightly harder to see.
She takes the chance to spare a glance back at Buddy and her pups. They’ve retreated further back, likely on Buddy’s insistence. Good.
Pearl puts more force into her weapon, squeezing her eyes shut as she gasps. Her whole body aches from the strain, but she can feel it. Something is happening. She can’t stop now.
A sound, like ice cracking, but a thousand times louder. It echoes through the entire server like the thunderous announcement of a final death.
Pearl opens one eye. Cracks are spreading throughout the barrier, cracks that originate from where it touches her sword. The fractures glow blue, white, as they travel across the invisible wall as if it were glass.
She’s close. She’s so close–!
The sparks that became lightning bolts arc from the barrier, traveling up her sword and wrapping around her arms. White-hot pain, burning and blindingly bright, travels through her. Pearl knows she’s screaming now, even as the barrier grows louder.
The pain worsens as Pearl continues to press into the barrier. It’s almost like the barrier is a living thing, lashing out in its death throes with all the fury of a cornered animal.
Despite it all, Pearl doesn’t back down. She continues forward with a fury she too commands– that of a wolf with a purpose.
It hurts. Even being near the barrier makes her skin tingle from the heat, and the burning pain traveling up her arms becomes searing. Fully red now, the barrier’s cracks begin bleeding. Pearl has never seen anything like it. She can’t afford to get distracted, though. Not now. Not when so much is on the line.
It builds, and builds, and builds. The pain, the screams, the heat.
And then
it all
stops.
Pearl stumbles backward. Her sword remains lodged in the barrier for a moment longer before falling to the ground, which is damp from the now-melted snow. Silence echoes throughout the world once more, ear-piercingly empty in its lack.
The barrier heals. The red fades. And in one instant, everything returns to as it once was.
Pearl falls slowly to her knees. Was it really all for nothing? Everything she went through, just for this one moment to fail? Did her final stand truly mean so little that the world didn’t feel fit to grant her this one win?
Before she can bring herself to stand up, the barrier cracks.
Pearl’s eyes are drawn upward as once more, spiderweb cracks branch across the barrier. As it cracks further and further, the larger shards begin glitching. For brief moments, they take on the appearance of the void before flickering back to barrier, then back to the void again.
Pearl watches with wide eyes as the barrier cracks and glitches, the static sound growing in volume once more.
Some instinct screams at her to run. Pearl is unable to react in time, and can only watch as the barrier explodes.
She’s thrown backward from the force, slamming into a tree. The air is knocked out of her as she feels something crack, unable to cry out as she collapses onto the ground once more.
Struggling to breathe, Pearl curls against the tree, squeezing her eyes shut as the confines of her world break down.
There’s no time or room in her mind to think. Fully in survival mode, it’s all Pearl can do to cling to the tree and hope this isn’t the thing that kills her. It’d be ironic, to have survived this long only to be killed by her one attempt at finally breaking free from the world.
Finally, she can breathe again, and takes several heaving gasps of air. Her ribs aren’t too happy with the strain and send a warning pain through her side, but Pearl doesn’t care about that right now. She needs air, or she’ll collapse.
Hands shaking, Pearl slowly stands up, using the tree for support. She can feel blood trickling down the side of her face, and faintly hopes that she didn’t somehow hit her head when she was thrown back.
Frankly, Pearl doesn’t think she can walk. It’s taking all her energy to just stand, even aided by the tree, and she still feels dizzy. She glances down at her arms and winces at the reddened and blistering wounds that arc like lightning over her skin. The pain is dull and constant, but Pearl knows it’s likely the adrenaline that is keeping her from feeling the full extent of her injuries.
She looks back up at the barrier– no, at where the barrier used to be. It hardly looks any different, but Pearl knows. The unnatural shine of the barrier is gone, replaced by endless sky and land.
She’s free.
Pearl is startled by something brushing against her legs. Buddy is there once more, looking up at her with such human-like concern. Pearl can’t help but shakily laugh, reaching down to scratch Buddy behind the ears. “I did it, Buddy,” she whispers. “I broke the barrier.”
Buddy whines, tail thumping softly against Pearl’s legs as she leans into the pets. Cinnamon and Sugar are close behind, though they seem to sense Pearl’s exhaustion and aren’t as playful as they would normally be.
Pearl smiles at the pups. “Don’t– don’t worry,” she murmurs. “I’m… I’m doin’ just fine.”
The adrenaline wears off, and Pearl collapses.
Her senses return to her one by one.
First, strangely enough, comes the scent of fresh-baked bread. Pearl takes a deep breath, then another, to confirm that she isn’t imagining things. After a few breaths, she has no other choice than to believe she’s gone insane.
Then comes her hearing. It fades in slowly, the high-pitched ringing replaced by distant movement and the sound of birds singing. She can feel a gentle breeze flowing, likely through a window.
The sensation of soft sheets under Pearl just make her feel more confident in her diagnosis of insanity– either that, or she was dead, and Pearl would much rather not be that– last she checked, her blankets, while warm and practical, were hardly the most comfortable.
Sight hindered only by the fact that she kept her eyes closed, Pearl opens them slowly. She immediately slams them shut at the bright sunlight assaulting her gaze. Instinctively, she goes to rub her eyes. Sharp lancing pains in her arms stop her from raising them more than a few centimeters. Pearl winces, sucking in a pained breath before she tries to open her eyes again.
It takes a few minutes, and quite a lot of blinking, but Pearl’s eyes adjust to the well-lit room. It’s small, and the closed door leaves her guessing as to what’s beyond, but the windows are open to let in light.
Trying to stand is even worse of an idea than trying to rub her eyes. Pearl yelps at the pain that sends a shock through her ribs, traveling down, electric, through her arms.
She looks down. Her arms are wrapped neatly in clean bandages, from her wrist up to her shoulders. A slight pink tinge indicated they had likely been treated with a regeneration potion.
A scratching sound at the door has Pearl ignoring any pain she feels, scrambling out of the bed and stumbling toward the door to throw it open. Buddy is there, and so are Cinnamon and Sugar, and Pearl sinks to her knees as the three surround her. She wraps her arms around Buddy’s neck, buries her face in her soft fur, and cries.
It hurts, to do all that. But Pearl is confused, and scared, and needs it.
Footsteps, fast and light, startle her into action. She pulls back, reaching for her sword– her sword, where’s her sword? It’s not sheathed on her hip as it should be– and when she can’t find it, she presses herself back against the far wall. Cinnamon and Sugar follow her, with Buddy close behind, facing the door and growling protectively.
Pearl stares at the door unblinkingly. She has to prepare for the worst. She’s never been great in unarmed combat, but with Buddy there she’d have an advantage. Unless this was a dream where she had to die to escape, or a nightmare, or–
Gem, impossibly, appears in the doorway. Her hair is down and slightly wild for it; she looks rather disheveled in general. Surprise appears first on her face, then joy. “Oh, my gosh! Pearl! You’re awake!”
Pearl does nothing but stare back, unspeaking.
Gem’s expression fades into concern. She takes a step forward, stopping there at Buddy’s growling. “Pearl? Are you alright? No, actually, why are you out of bed? That can’t be good for you.”
Pearl sucks in a shaky breath. “Are you real?” She hates how fragile her voice sounds. How it feels like she might shatter into a million pieces at the slightest strain.
She’s weak. Easy prey. Injured and cornered, unarmored besides, there was no way to protect herself.
Void, maybe she really has gone insane.
Something changes in Gem’s expression and voice. Something Pearl can’t quite place, but it’s something gentle. “Yes, Pearl, I’m real.” She takes a deep breath. “Would you mind sitting your dogs? And getting back in the bed, please? You’re hurt. You really shouldn’t be standing.” After a moment, Gem adds, “if you sit, I’ll explain everything to you. How we found you, how we got you out, everything. Just… please, get back in bed.”
Pearl slowly, carefully, inches back onto the bed, commanding her dogs down with a quiet order. She pulls her legs close to her as Gem sits down at the foot of the bed, across from Pearl.
There’s a moment of silence.
Pearl takes a deep breath. “Okay. Tell me.”
Gem smiles, an expression that shouldn’t have been half as sorrowful as it was. “You were trapped in that game, weren’t you? In the Double Life server.” She waits for a short, jerky nod from Pearl. “Yeah. We realized that something was wrong after a day or two– and by we, I mean Grian noticed.” She sighs, smoothing her skirt over her legs. “He got word from Scott that he’d arrived back on his home server fine, and after that, asked me to check on you.” Gem shrugs. “Not too weird an ask, but when I went to see you, I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
Pearl tries not to wince at Scott’s name. It only brings back bad memories– those of explosions and sacrifices and death and the ensuing loneliness. “What then?” she asks, clearing her voice in an attempt to get rid of the rasp.
Gem seems encouraged by Pearl’s question. “Well, of course, I freaked out. I got Impulse to help me search everywhere we could think of, and when that didn’t work out, we called Grian.” She laughs. Something about her expression tells Pearl it’s not because she found that funny. “So there we were, three freaked out guys with no clue what was happening, and of course word spread because everyone was wondering where you were and it’s not like any of us can keep secrets for long.
“We ended up calling a meeting about it, with everyone here who had been on that server. And me, because I’m special.” Gem pauses, then adds, “not really. I was just so concerned about you that I refused to be shut out from the meeting. If something had happened to you, I wanted to know…”
Pearl finds herself smiling, just slightly. That sounds like the Gem she knows. Nosey and stubborn, and deeply caring. “Did… you figure it out?”
Gem sighs. She looks away, hiding an expression of shame. “It took… way too long. I hate how long it took. It was horrible, not knowing what happened, where you were, for months.” Her voice shakes now, despite her attempts at hiding it. “I went stir-crazy, sitting here doing nothing. I mean, what could I do? I wasn’t even whitelisted. And Grian couldn’t get into the server because of some glitch, and of course it was by this time that we figured you were probably stuck there, but it took us a few weeks to reach that conclusion, and it was really only thanks to Scar that we even thought of it, and– gosh!” She hits the bed in frustration. Buddy looks up, ready to pounce on Pearl’s command, but Pearl stops her.
Pearl’s brow furrows. Any doubts that this was the real Gem were slowly fading, but one thing confused her… “You said you were looking for me?”
Gem nods.
Pearl feels her heart shatter. “...the whole time?” she whispers.
Gem’s expression softens. “Of course, Pearl.”
She hadn’t been abandoned. She hadn’t been abandoned.
Pearl’s eyes become misty. Her vision blurs as she curls up tighter, ignoring the warning pains from her ribs. She tries to speak, but nothing manages to make it past the lump in her throat. Only a soft sob does, as tears start to streak down her face.
Gem, almost without thinking, crosses the bed. She pulls Pearl into a hug, careful to avoid the other woman’s injuries. “I’m so sorry, Pearl. I’m so sorry.”
For a while, they sit just like that. Pearl leans into Gem’s hug, burying her face in the other’s shirt. Gem doesn’t seem to mind, despite the tears wetting the fabric, content with just keeping Pearl close.
Gem is warm, and Pearl can’t remember the last time she was held by another person. It would’ve had to be before Double Life at all, right? And then the period after– she doesn’t want to think about that, not now, not ever.
Pearl rests her head on Gem’s shoulder. Gem gently rubs her back, and she relaxes further against the elf.
Pearl takes several breaths, trying to keep them more shallow. Deeper breaths, she’s discovered, make her ribs hurt even more. She thinks, distantly, that she likely broke one when the barrier exploded.
Speaking of…
“The barrier. That was you, in my dreams?”
Gem sighs, continuing to gently rub Pearl’s back. “Yeah. Eventually, I got so frustrated waiting, I decided to try worldhopping. You know I have that whole voidwalker thing, so I thought… y'know, why not try and put it to use.” Gem winces at a memory Pearl isn’t privy to. “It… didn’t work too well. I’ve never really tried traveling into a world that has a barrier, and I had a pretty bad crash into it.”
Pearl recalls a night where she’d woken up to lights in the sky– or so she’d thought. In the haze of the exhaustion, she had forgotten the real reason for her sudden waking. A crash that she’d thought was more dream than reality. “Oh.” Is all she says. She doesn’t choose to add “I think I heard you.”
Gem laughs awkwardly. “Yeah. Pretty embarrassing. Still, I kept trying. It was definitely more than a little frustrating. I felt like I was so close, but it wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough.”
Pearl lets out a sound of protest. “Gem, that’s not–”
“–not the point, I know, I know. Sorry. Carrying on. I decided to try again, every night I could. I let Grian know, in case he felt anything weird with the server, but he was pretty much cut off. So I was just feeling around in the dark, trying to see if I could do anything useful. It helped with the feeling of helplessness, at least.”
Pearl nods. She understands, perhaps more than anyone, doing things just to keep yourself from going crazy. She certainly did plenty of that while she was stuck in the server. “It worked, right? In the end. When I heard you.”
Gem hums. “Yeah. One night, I was just wandering along the length of the barrier. It was the same old thing, for the most part, just staring through the other side into the void, but then! Then, I saw you!”
“I dunno how,” Pearl says. “I was asleep. I never went close to the void, barely went mining deep enough for anything but coal.”
“Mhm, well. People tend to be pretty close to the void when they sleep, something about it being a source for things like dreams and nightmares. Anyway, I saw you, and so I just started shouting. I guess you heard me.”
Pearl smiles. “I’m really glad I did. But… how did you know the barrier was able to be broken?”
“Oh!” Gem exclaims, “that one’s easy. The fact that you were able to hear me at all meant the barrier was weak. Worlds like that tend to start decaying without an admin, and barriers are no exception. And since the barrier is the first thing that weakens, I knew I needed to get you out of there before the world started crumbling around you.”
Pearl swallows. “Oh. That’s… scary.”
Gem nods, pulling away to look Pearl in the eyes. “But it didn’t happen, because you broke the barrier. When you did that, Grian was able to access the server again, and we traveled there with Scar and Impulse to get you back. We found your cabin, and all your dogs, and– well, Impulse got bitten by quite a few of them, but we managed to round them all up and bring them back to Hermitcraft. Scar’s a lot better with animals, and Impulse is better at wrangling them, so Grian and I searched the whole server for you.
“It was kinda annoying, with the no flying rules and all, but we found you because of your wonderful dog right here.” Gem gestures to Buddy. “And are those her pups? Very cute.”
Pearl nods. “That’s Buddy,” she says. “And Cinnamon. And Sugar.”
Gem smiles. “Those are such good names, Pearl.” She clears her throat, her smile falling at what she says next. “Anyway. When we found you, you were in pretty rough shape. It… wasn’t looking too good.” She looks away. “We knew you weren’t in any danger of permadying when we got you back on Hermitcraft, but there was still some worry, and we didn’t know what that could do to your mental state, so…”
Pearl laughs a little, wincing at the pain that brings. “Yeah. I appreciate that, mate. I was pretty freaked out over the possibility of dying while I was there.”
Gem hums softly. “I can’t imagine. I– I’m so sorry, Pearl. What you went through…”
“In the past, now,” Pearl says, pretending she can’t still feel the chill of the winter breeze on the back of her neck. “I’ll be good as new soon, you’ll see.”
For some reason, Gem doesn’t look too convinced about that. “Do you… want to talk about it? I mean, what happened while you were there?”
Pearl sucks in a breath. Too deep– she coughs painfully, leaning against Gem as she wheezes. After a long moment of her coughing and trying to breathe, she shakes her head. “Not now,” she gets out, “maybe later.”
Gem smiles warmly. “Of course. Oh! Where are my manners– you must be starving. And thirsty. Would you like something to eat?”
Pearl practically drools at the thought of food. “Oh, Gem, please.”
Gem pulls away from Pearl, which Pearl thinks is quite a shame really, she was enjoying being held. “I’ll be right back! I have soup warm on the stove right now– anything else you want in particular?”
“Bread,” Pearl answers almost immediately. “And– and something sweet. Please. Anything sweet.”
Gem grins, bouncing on her toes. “I’m on it, Pearl!” She dashes out the door, leaving it cracked behind her.
Pearl is left alone with her dogs once more, and tries not to think about that fact too hard. If she gets all in her head about it, she’ll start to spiral, and the last thing Pearl wanted to do was spiral. She’s got to convince Gem she’s doing just fine and dandy, and it wouldn’t do her any good to break down about it.
They said they didn’t abandon you, the small voice in her head speaks up, but they still could. They could put you right back there, in that cold place, without any friends.
Pearl immediately dismisses that thought. She doesn’t believe it for a minute, frankly. The voice in her head has got to get better at giving her negative thoughts.
Actually, scratch that. Pearl would prefer the voice stay bad at negativity. That’d probably be for the best.
Gem arrives with a tray and a vast array of treats set on it before Pearl can get any deeper into her thoughts. “Right. Here we go!” She sets the tray down. “Hold on, let me–” She carefully arranges Pearl’s pillows so that Pearl can sit up more comfortably. Gem gave her an absurd amount of pillows. Still, Pearl isn’t complaining.
The tray is set carefully over Pearl’s legs so she can eat from it. Pearl’s first pick is a warm chocolate chip cookie, and she nearly cries at the first bite. She holds herself together until the second bite, which is when she starts sobbing.
Gem startles. “Oh– Pearl?! Pearl, are you okay? Is something wrong?”
Pearl shakes her head, laughing through her tears. “No, no, it just… it tastes so good.” She finishes the cookie, licking the crumbs from her fingers. Already she’s reaching for the next thing, a croissant that she knows Gem got from a local bakery run by an artist– though the name escapes her at that moment, because it’s so good.
Gem sits back, watching Pearl eat. She’s overjoyed that Pearl is eating so excitedly, but guilt weighs down her heart all the same. Pearl clearly went through hell and back to get to this point. There’s a look in her eyes that lets Gem see that– a hollowness.
Pearl will never be the same again.
Was it her fault? If Gem had tried worldhopping sooner, or if she’d thought of Pearl being stuck, or if she’d been on the server in the first place, maybe none of this would’ve happened. Maybe Pearl would’ve been safe.
“Maybe” won’t help her now, though. Won’t help Pearl. All Gem can do now is sit, and listen, and provide Pearl with what she needs.
“Do you want me to tell the others you’re awake?” Gem asks, after Pearl has swallowed half the soup in under a minute. “I know Grian was really nervous about everything. Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t stopped by to check on you, given he’s been doing exactly that for as long as you’ve been back here.”
Pearl stops eating, looking up at Gem. “Maybe… you could tell just a few of them? Grian, Scar, Impulse maybe? I…” She sighs, putting down the bowl of soup. “I’m tired, Gem.” The exhaustion shows itself suddenly, in the slump of Pearl’s shoulders and the spark in her eyes vanishing. “I want to see them, I really do, but…”
Gem understands her completely. “Just one at a time, then? I suppose I should let Grian know first. He might kill me if I keep him from visiting you.”
Pearl snorts. “As if he could. You’d flatten him faster than he could draw his sword.”
Gem laughs at Pearl’s unexpected humor. It was… nice. To see a bit of the old Pearl coming through while she was still recovering from what happened. She reaches forward and tucks a strand of Pearl’s hair– it’s grown longer since Gem last saw her– behind her ear. “I’ll be right back, then.”
Gem stands and goes to step out of the room, but stops when Pearl calls for her.
“Don’t leave me,” is all Pearl says. There’s over two months worth of loneliness behind her eyes, and Gem finds herself to be a very weak woman in this moment. She crumbles instantly, rejoining Pearl on the bed.
Grian crashes through the door not even five minutes after receiving Gem’s message. He’s already in tears, and Gem has to stand up to stop him from jumping on the bed and tackling Pearl in a hug.
“Grian if you make her injuries worse because of your enthusiasm, I swear to whatever is out there–!”
At the same time, Grian is babbling almost incoherently at Pearl. Asking if she’s okay, begging for forgiveness, words interrupted by sobs interrupted by gasps.
Pearl hardly is unaffected herself. Already emotionally a wreck from earlier, she reaches out to Grian and pulls him close. Gem had thought to put the tray to the side earlier so that its contents wouldn’t spill.
“I’m sorry,” Grian whispers to Pearl. “I’m so sorry. I failed you. I failed everyone.”
Pearl shakes her head, trying to keep her sobs at a minimum. “No, no, I’m sorry, I– I missed you, I missed you all so much. I thought–” She sniffles, ignoring the pain in her arms to wipe her eyes– “I thought I was going to die there. Or be trapped there forever. Thank you. Thank you for saving me. Thank you.”
Grian says nothing in response. He just holds her. Together, they cry quietly, until their tears have run out.
Pearl finds herself newly exhausted, leaning heavily against Grian. The excitement of the day is quickly catching up to her. Her eyelids keep drooping, despite her many attempts at keeping them open.
Gem, thankfully, notices. She carefully pulls Grian away from Pearl. “Right, let's get you to bed.”
Pearl almost falls asleep before Gem can rearrange her pillows to let her lie down. She’s out like a light before the curtains are drawn, and doesn’t wake for several hours.
A week or so later, Pearl finally feels good enough to go outside with Gem.
Being bedridden was hardly her favorite thing in the world, but with how exhausted and hurt she was, Pearl really hadn’t had a choice in the matter. Still, being able to go out after so long was practically a dream come true.
Hermitcraft was currently warm and bright– at least, the area around Gem’s base was. Unlike the servers for the death games, Hermitcraft didn’t have changing seasons. Pearl supposes that was for the purpose of building; the planned aesthetic a Hermit had would be affected by the season, and dealing with the change would be more annoying than anything.
Taking a deep breath of warm, springtime air, Pearl can feel herself relaxing. She carries a cane in one hand, and Gem stays on her other side, just in case she loses balance. She’s still regaining her strength, after all.
“I feel a little bad,” Pearl says to Gem as they walk down the path, “I mean, what with all the chest monsters that must’ve been building up during my absence. I don’t even want to look at Scar’s storage area.”
Gem’s mouth drops open. “Pearl, you have got to be kidding me. Two months in a dying server and you’re worried about chest monsters?” She thinks about it, then laughs. “No, no, actually, that’s the most Pearl thing I’ve ever heard.” She intertwines her arm with Pearl’s. “I’ll have you know that my storage area was kept spotless. Spotless, I tell you!”
Pearl raises an eyebrow. “Maybe we should stop by and take a peeksies at it, then.”
“Absolutely not.”
Pearl cackles.
They continue walking.
It’s a beautiful day out. The sun is shining, birds are chirping, and Pearl feels warm. Warmer than she has in months.
All that’s left to do now is live.