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hilza is lonely. And before you just say “Just go talk to people.” He’s tried that but it just doesn’t feel right. He feels like something is missing in the world… his world. He’s the only person thats been gifted wings in the past two centuries. He’s alone, with no flock, as the history books say avains need. He’s looked for another avain, of course but has found no one. Now days, he just studies magic, as well as his species and its instincts.
He’s been doing well lately, selling enchantments and potions in the village is great money. He’s collected quite the wealth from it but lives a rather simple life, excluding a few pieces of fine jewelry such as his emerald earring he always wears. The cavern he lives in is cozy and decorated with maps, brewing stations, and a living room/bedroom where his nest sits, in front of the fireplace. He cooks over the flames with a cauldron, kettle, and skillet.
“Hmm, need more tea.” Phil mumbles to himself as he puts the last of the tea leaves into the kettle and puts it over the fire to boil.
‘I’ll probably need to go to the village today.’ He’s thinks.
He waits for the tea to boil before taking the kettle with an oven-mitten and placing on the nearby counter to cool. He pours the tea into his ol’ mug and sits on a wooden stool. It’s slightly chipped in some spots and the painted dark green leaves are beginning to peel off. It’s his favorite mug, he won’t throw it away till it’s beyond repair. He sips the piping hot tea and reads an almost finished book he found last week in the village library about avain folklore. He’ll finish it and bring it back today and maybe grab another one.
It’s quite interesting and he’s a chapter away from finishing it. Right now it’s telling a tale of a village of avains being hunted by werewolves. The avains had slowly been killing the werewolves one by one till the pack eventually ran off. It was now telling how they built a new village back up and how the characters settled in and lived happily ever after.
He shut the book and put it in his bag, then put his mug into the sink nearby. He put his library card into the bag, as well as a bit of money to buy tea. He sweeps his thick, fuzzy, dark green cloak over his shoulders and opens the door to a blast of snow and wind to the face. He steps out, closes the door, and locks it behind him. He lives close enough to the village to walk. It only takes ten to fifteen minutes to get there.
The door to the tea shop opens with a ring of a bell. A plump brown haired woman greats Phil with a warm smile.
“Hi Phil. Here for your usual earl grey?” She asks nicely.
“Sure am.” Phil replies with a matching warm smile.
She hands him a bag of tea leaves and he gives her the money in return.
“Need anything else?”
“No, I think im good but thank you.” He says waving goodbye and stepping out of the store. He heads towards the library which is only a block away. He enters and drops off his book in the return bin and begins walking through the aisles.
The library is small and cozy but crammed to the brim with books of all sorts. He spots a book about hybrids and gently grabs it from the shelf. He walks to the small hang out spot where people could read their books quietly. Phil settles on the couch nearest to the window with a sigh. He opens his book and reads.
After a few hours he finally gets up and goes to the front desk to borrow the book. He’s read about half the book by now and is very interested. He shows the librarian his card and writes his name and the name of the book he’s borrowing in the entry book near the door. He plops the book into his bag which it slung on his shoulder. He leaves and walks down the main road and back to his home.
He climbs his way back to his door, which is nearly half covered with snow. He grabs the shovel near the door and scoops it out of the way so he can enter. He finishes and enters the warm home. His eyes spot a letter on the floor near the door. (Theres a little mail hole in the door that let the letter in. No one entered lol.)
Phil picks it up. It’s not uncommon for him to get letters every now and then but still unusual because of this time of year. ‘Who on earth would go out in the dead of winter to deliver a letter up here?’ He thinks. He puts the letter on the counter and throws a few logs onto the slowly dying flame. He puts his book away and grabs the letter. He slices the top cleanly with his sharp nails. He opens it and unfolds the letter.
“Dear Philza Minecraft,
We sent you this letter to tell you, the kingdom is at war. We have sent this letter to every able man in the country you know as the Antarctic Kingdom, to aid in the battle efforts. We are at war with the kingdom known as West Haymar. Bring any and all weapons, armor, magical items and potions if you have any. Come as soon as possible to the capital. Come before the date February 24 this year.”
Phil read it quickly and sighed. He really doesn’t want to deal with a stupid war but he should probably help the kingdom. He could also bring a few brewing stations to help brew more potions on the way. He had plenty of time to pack since it was January 15 at the moment.