Chapter Text
Icedagger had always been reclusive. He never particularly liked being in large groups, nor did he enjoy being around loud demons. He preferred the solitude of his ice cave, far away from any curious demons brave enough to seek him out. It was lonely sometimes, but he had long learned how to entertain himself. His cave was quiet and peaceful. Just the way he liked it.
He doesn’t particularly enjoy being around all his siblings. All at once, at least. Even then, they treat him like he’s made of glass, like if he hears a single curse word he’ll die. He can’t stand it when they do that, so he usually ends up not going to their meetings. Because it happens every time.
He wonders if his siblings think of him as weak, compared to them. He stops the train of though before it can continue.
Most of his siblings didn’t visit often, nor have much of a relationship with him, anyway, so he doesn’t particularly care what they think of him. (he’s lying. but admitting he cares will only hurt him more when they disappoint him.)
Currently, he’s doing one of his hobbies: people demon-watching. He is perched on a building in Blackrock, a light snowfall obscuring his figure just enough that nobody notices him. Demons walk along the sidewalks, going to and from their destinations. Nobody particularly stands out from the crowd, except for one demon wearing a black visor with blue trims that look like they’re trying to be horns covering his whole face. They walk with purpose, like they’ve done this hundreds of times before.
Icedagger watches as they walk into a building, before shifting his gaze to focus on the demons he can actually see. He enjoys the atmosphere as time passes, the sounds of Blackrock’s daily life fading into background noise. At some point, he descends into a light nap, perfectly content with the world in that moment.
He is not woken until a few hours later, when the sun begins to set. He blearily stretches, yawning as he prepares to teleport back to his cave, only to hear a quiet noise behind him. If he had not accidentally trained his ears for such noises due to living somewhere that was practically silent all the time, he probably wouldn’t have heard it.
He turns, curious as to who would come on top of a building at sunset, only to be met with the visor-wearing demon he was watching earlier. They stare at each other for a few moments before Icedagger speaks.
“Uh, hi?” Admins, this is awkward. “What’s your name?” That’s a good way to start a conversation, right? Maybe he needs to get out of his cave more, if only to practice talking to people.
“My name is Hyperlaser.” they state flatly, “You must be Icedagger.” they gesture to his wings.
There’s a few moments of quiet before Icedagger speaks again. “So, Hyperlaser, what brings you up here this evening?” Icedagger says, attempting to make some form of conversation. Hyperlaser hums, “I could ask you the same thing.”
“I’m demon-watching. It’s one of my hobbies. Or I was. Before I fell asleep,” He says honestly, gazing toward the streets, which were now practically empty compared to earlier in the day, “I saw you earlier, actually. You went into a building.”
“I did. Do you.. do this often?” Icedagger gazes into the sunset. It paints the sky in the most beautiful colors he’s seen all day. He feels joy, knowing he’ll see them again tomorrow. “Sometimes. I mostly just listen to the background noise, but I’ve been doing it long enough I’ve started recognizing people. Like how you notice someone and then you start seeing them everywhere, if that makes sense. What about you?”
“I got some bad news earlier. Been trying to clear my head.” Icedaggerr doesn’t know how to reply to that, So he gazes up at the sky, which is beginning to fill with stars. “Whatever news you got..” he begins, “I hope it gets better.” He looks at the sun again, now almost gone beneath the horizon. “It’s getting late. You should get some rest.” With that, Icedagger teleports away, leaving Hyperlaser to their thoughts.
Icedagger reappears in his cave, which is not made of ice, contrary to what some may believe. It’s actually pretty cozy, in his opinion. He moves toward his bedroom, opens the door, and flops onto his bed. Today was a good day. So what if his siblings thought less of him? It’s not like they had much of a relationship anyway. They don’t know him for who he truly is. They only know him as the weak younger brother who needs protecting.
That night, he falls asleep quickly. He dreams of Blackrock, of the kingdom’s final days before the monarchy was overthrown.
The next morning, Icedagger does his usual routine- making sure his cave is clean and everything is in its place, before making himself a small meal. When that’s done, he grabs a half-finished book from his shelf, and continues writing the story.
The collector weaves through the underbrush of the rainforest, avoiding conflict where they can and fighting when they can’t. After a few minutes of this, they come across a large mango tree. It’s one of the largest trees they’ve seen in person, aside from the massive one at the center of the region.
As Icedagger continues to write the second book of his story (nobody would believe him if he said it was real) he begins to hum. He wonders if things could have gone differently.
A small, selfish part of him hopes that his friend hasn’t moved on, and still roams the world as a ghost. That way, he would be able to seem them again. Even if he looked different. They are the only person who would understand what Icedagger is going though.
The others don’t remember. It’s just him, and the books he’s passing off as stories. In this moment, his desire for solitude turn into sorrow, as he silently mourns a future that could’ve come to pass, but never did. In this moment, he feels pathetic. He used to drive people mad, and now he is mourning something he will never get to see. A future that only he knows could have existed.
And then he realizes something. He never actually checked to see if anyone else survived. He had just assumed they had all perished during his ‘rest’ but some of them might still be around. With a hope he hasn’t felt in years, he places the book back on the shelf, and goes to sleep. Tomorrow, he will begin his search.