Chapter Text
“Just be careful okay?” The woman ruffled the small voidling’s hair, her eyes smiling at him. “You know what time you have to return right?”
The voidling nodded, pointing at the sun. “Good. So be back by sunset.”
He ran off the grass up to his knees. The sun beamed down on him making his skin feel a lot warmer than it should be, but he was happy.
Being out in nature calmed him down.
The small voidling smiled, running into the trees, his glowing white eyes catching a bunny. He decided to give chase, running through the bushes and tall trunks, sprinting and smiling. He soon lost sight of it when he tripped on the ground.
He let out a oof, quickly pushing himself up and off the ground. His eyes scanned the treeline for the small bunny, the animal nowhere to be found. He huffed, turning to look at the sun when his gaze caught something not too far from him.
Swords.
Three of them.
A small gasp of surprise left his mouth as he stared at the metal gleaming in the sunlight.
They were beautiful.
One of netherite.
One of diamond.
One of iron.
Three different colours, but they worked together.
The small voidling walked closer, staring at the metal as if in a trance. He kept moving forwards, his boots grazing the grass, the shine of their honed blades… calling.
He reached them, picking up the iron one first since that one was laid up against the rock. Holding it made him feel like a ton of steel, unbreakable. He held the heavy blade in his hand, examining the metal with glee.
He remembered the people in the village having their own blades like this, but they wouldn't let him have one. He had a measly wooden one to call his own when he trained, but he always had a little envy built up when he saw the guards walk by with their own metal ones.
But now, he has his own! Three to be exact, more than any other person had on them at once.
He jumped up with a smile, forgetting about the setting sun as he grabbed the diamond one. He pulled up the heavier blade, a weird humming filling his ears. It was a pretty glimmering shade of cyan; only the higher ranked guards had diamond swords.
He wasn't even a guard and he had his own!
The cyan sword filled his bones with energy. He felt like he could run a marathon and not get tired. As if he could give chase to those griefers and bandits that attacked his village on a weekly basis, and catch them.
He attached the two swords to his belt, noticing the sun setting over the hills.
He knew he should probably head back. The last time he stayed out after dark, he was picking nocturnal flowers. The villagers searched for him for hours, only finding him because of his glowing white eyes.
His void black skin did not help him at night.
He wanted to show off the two swords he found, but he wanted the netherite one too. The problem was, this one was stuck in the boulder in front of him. He climbed the rock, reaching for the hilt.
He secured his hands around the handle, only for a sharp pain to stab him in the head. He let go, tumbling down the side of the boulder, landing on his side. He grunted in frustration, pulling himself back up.
He was now more interested than ever before. The other two swords didn't do that.
The low sound from the diamond sword still hummed in his ears, but he ignored it. He grabbed the netherite again, pulling it out in one fell swoop.
The young voidling’s head ached, his eyes clearing to a sharp precision. His hands shook with unneeded adrenaline flowing through them.
He whined, the hum still loud in his ears, the splitting headache making tears fall.
The voidling didn't even realize he'd fallen off the rock again. He didn't feel the pain of doing so.
He slowly stood up, stumbling, holding his head.
He needed to let some of this strength free.
He swung the blade against a tree, the adrenaline that filled his skin calming before spiking again.
It was a constant building up of adrenaline and energy under his skin.
His eyes blinked, noticing it was dark now.
How long has he been standing there?
He tried to let go of the netherite sword, but only struggled. His hand was firmly gripping the hilt, not letting go.
He wanted to let go, why wasn't it listening to him?
He whined childishly, his head pounding, his hands shaking.
He needed help, the villagers would help him let go of this sword!
They helped him when they found the small voidling stumbling around months before. They took him under their soft, caring wings, treating him as one of their own.
The woman took care of him, giving him a scarf when he complained of the cold, the person who gave him his wooden sword teaching him how to fight.
He didn't feel like an outcast.
He could ask for help.
He walked in the direction of the village. His legs worked just fine, it was the adrenaline building that made him feel like he would explode.
He tried to throw the sword out of his hand, tried to stab it into the dirt and leave it behind.
It wouldn't budge.
He got closer, the voidling trying to pry his fingers free, his head pain getting worse. He cried out, dropping to his knees near the village’s housing.
Let go.
Let go.
He couldn't.. let go.
He couldn't let go.
His hand wouldn't listen, why wasn't it listening to him?!
His heart rate rose unsteadily, his head..
His head hurt.
It hurt so bad.
He watched his hands shake, his ears tuning out everything with that consistent hum.
He..
He needed to use this strength.
His skin was boiling even with the cool breeze passing him as he moved.
He felt as if on fire.
Use it.
He needed to get rid of this adrenaline.
He needed to let go of this sword.
He couldn't–
Wait.
He was moving?
His eyes were out of focus when he stopped in his tracks.
The adrenaline was fading from his head, now only to slowly build up again. His hand still gripped the sword he held.
And…
Fires?
Houses were on fire, lighting up the night sky.
‘Sleeping’..
‘Sleeping’ people on the ground.
Why were they sleeping on the ground?
None of them were moving, the voidling confused at why they were just..
Laying there.
He couldn't understand when he got closer, seeing a red littering the grass.
Red?
He only remembered seeing red like that when he got splinters from his wooden sword when fighting.
But now..
It was everywhere.
Even his own blade that rested in his hand.
He fell again, the humming growing louder.
He grabbed his hand that was holding the hilt of the blade in a death grip and slowly pried each finger off. His head continued to pound louder and louder as he did so, but managed to get three fingers off when someone grabbed his shoulder from behind.
The young voidling jumped, his fingers grabbing the hilt again as he looked up through blurry eyes.
It was.. someone. He couldn't tell who, but they wore some armour the same colour as his sword.
“Take it away.” The young voidling held out his shaking hand, asking the mystery person behind him.
Begging.
“Please take it.” The voidling cried as his migraine pounded in his skull like a hammer drill.
The armoured person kneeled down into the grass slowly shaking their head.
“Please! I don't want it anymore.” The voidling hiccuped. He kept his shaking hand in front of him.
The mystery person sighed, sitting down next to him, taking his hand gently. The person seemed unfazed by the waves of strength the sword was giving to the younger one as they peeled the first finger off.
Then the second.
The third.
He was back to where he was a few minutes ago, but the person made quick work of the last two. The netherite sword hit the ground with a small clang, the voidling collapsing into the mystery person almost immediately.
His body shook as the overload of adrenaline slowly but surely worked its way out of his system.
He whined, the hum in his ears disappearing when the person removed the diamond sword from his side along with the iron one.
The small voidling went limp from exhaustion, his eyes moving around the wasteland of ‘sleeping’ people because that was the only thing he could think of calling them. Still, slumbering people.
The voidling whined when the person stood up, drinking something almost clear from a bottle. They brushed themselves off afterwards–
“No.” The voidling pouted, forcing himself to stand with his weak limbs as he hugged the waist of the only other person that was moving.
He didn't want them to leave.
He didn't want to sleep like the people on the ground.
The young voidling lost his footing, falling to his knees again, but this time the person was there to follow.
“Please don't leave.”
The person nodded, placing a crafting table and crafting some long strips of leather. The person stayed there as the voidling’s humming body stopped, making sheaths with the leather pieces, thread and a needle for the three blades.
At least the pull wouldn't be as strong.
They fit the blades in each one, holding the netherite one and placing it on the voidling's lap.
He panicked, waiting for his hand to grab the hilt, for the pain in his head to return, but nothing happened. The blade just sat calmly in the leather sheath on his legs.
The person did this with all three, placing them back on the voidling for no reaction. The person was satisfied, nudging the small voidling back awake to ask them a question.
“Do you want to come with me.”
The voidling could barely understand it, the person’s voice distorted and glitchy, but he nodded. He didn't want to be left here.
His eyes moved to the crowd of slumbering bodies as the sky began to cry, rain putting out the fires on the houses. The last light drained from the village as the person picked up the voidling, the swords sheathed and still resting on him.
He grabbed the leather to keep them steady as the person turned and walked away with him in their arms.
—
The voidling woke up, hugging the blades as the person kept walking with him in their grasp. His eyes were glazed with exhaustion as he looked around, noticing they weren't anywhere near the village anymore.
It was snowing.
Large trees towered above them, a wave of calm washing through the voidling’s bones. His face was dull, but he still reached out weakly to catch a snowflake in his palm before his vision went black.
—
Again his eyes open, the voidling still in the person’s arms. Cherry trees covered his vision, petals falling from the sky.
He grumbled, his eyes blinking slowly, the blades now resting on the mystery person's hip.
The voidling opened his mouth, saying “Where..” before closing his eyes again.
—
This time, his body felt rested. His eyebrows squinted, opening his eyes again to see a big tower, one that reached the clouds.
Hearts lined the sides, ones that were green, orange and red. The person kneeled down, the voidling picking himself up out of their arms. He landed on the ground, stretching his arms.
The person handed him back the sheathed blades, the small voidling staring at them in his hands.
“We’ll make you a belt to hold those.” The distorted voice returned in his ears. The voidling hugged the leather sheaths, staring at the tower in the distance in slight awe.
“Like it?” The person put their metal gauntlet in his shoulder gripping it just enough to give him comfort. Stability.
The small voidling nodded, his eyes fixated on the view in front of him. He took a seat.
“Hey little one.”
The voidling moved his gaze away from the tower, staring up at the invisible person’s helmet.
“I never learned your name.”
He dropped the blades on the ground, slowly scooting away from them.
“I'll teach you how to properly use them. I promise.”
The small voidling stared at the blades again.
“It wasn't your fault.”
He grabbed his arms.
“You just need to learn how to use them.”
“Mugm.”
The invis person peered down at the small voidling, his void hands slowly reaching for the blades again.
“Mugm. That's my name.”
The invisible person held out his hand, standing tall next to the voidling, casting a shadow on him. Mugm took his hand, standing up off the ground, peering down at his swords.
“Welcome to Vanguard, Mugm.”