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Flame made his way through the gargantuan castle; he always hated the way Ash had built this place.
It was too big, the guy was always alone too, unless it was that copper player he, for some odd reason, liked, or another diamond player.
Hell, even Clown showed up from time to time to talk or guard.
Flame shakes off the sudden shiver that went down his spine as he goes up another floor in the castle. Ash should really invest in heating. Not that it would matter to him, Ash was a glitch after all.
Glitches don’t get cold. Someone like Flame can’t seem to understand.
Those invis pots are probably the reason he feels this way.
Not like I would get hurt, my name isn’t the ‘Immortal Demon’ for nothing.
Flame let out a proud scoff and pushed the doors to Ash’s library open. Whatever this man wanted, it couldn’t be anything good. If Flame was going to be honest with whatever in the world wanted to listen, he was a tiny bit scared. Of Ash? Hell no. He was scared of maybe getting his stasis pulled and Ash getting mad, because then he’d threaten Mane, and he can’t let that happen.
Flame wouldn’t know what to do.
He shook it off quickly; he was the Immortal Demon for goodness sake. Manepear was strong, stupidly so; he would wipe the floor with Ash. Everything is fine.
Flame snapped out of his thoughts and looked up, seeing Ash standing with his back turned, hands behind them. He looked calm, collected. As if he weren’t the leader of the Mafia, but a young man who just wanted to be free.
Maybe that was what Ash wanted. Flame could relate to some extent of wanting to be free. He’d lived it. He was living it now. Nothing but a killing machine, a good pvper, the strongest. He liked fighting, sure, but was that all he was known for? Being nothing but a person who would trust too easily and then be cast aside at the flick of a wrist?
Why does everyone fear me? Am I that scary?
“Flame, you’ve arrived, I see, and not a single hello to your leader.” Ash’s tone was cold as always, the glitch on his face flickering as he turned around to face Flame fully.
Flame bit his lip lightly as he thought of what to say. A simple ‘hello’ was too casual; no matter how high in ranking Flame was, Ash was still always guarded by another diamond player. Was bowing too formal? Flame cringed back at the thought. Him bowing? He’d rather die. He bowed way too much during Zam’s ruling. Never again.
Flame lands on the idea of saying, “Hey, Ash.” To say the least, it was something! Ash himself wasn’t angry per se, but he did have his classic, ‘You are so lucky I like you’ look.
“Next time, Flame, you say it more formally.”
Flame balled his hands at his side and slightly gritted his teeth. Who does this guy take me for?
“I’m kidding. Pfft.” Ash lets out the most monotone chuckle of all time and simply clears his throat after.
Flame’s jaw drops, and he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing at Ash. Not with. No, never with.
“Mhm. Uhm, anyway. Why did you call me here, Ash? Is it for some new mission, but this time it’s so important that I have to get it directly from you?”
Ash glanced back at him and let out a small smile. Flame could tell it was fake. His tail nervously swished behind him.
“I need you to get a mace, Flame. You’re the only diamond trim without one. Frankly, I don’t care about your opinions about them; just get one. Understood?”
Flame reeled back in disgust, and his ears went flat against his head. A mace? What did Ash take him for?
“I…can’t do that, Ash. I hate maces! They’re basically cheating, and it’s just plain stupid to use them! They- they’re dishonourable!”
The glitch on Ash’s face flickered, and his eye twitched. Shit. He was mad.
“Do I have to remind you, Flame? You may only be in the mafia for fun, but I’m still your leader, whether you listen to me or not. So fix your tone, because you will be getting yourself a mace. If you are going to be such a drama queen about it, give it to Clown.”
Flame swallowed a lump of spit he didn’t know formed and lightly nodded his head.
Geez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
Flame excused himself, shutting the door as quietly as he could manage, and began to walk all the way down the stairs. You know, maybe he should invest in an elytra.
Ew, no. I would rather die than do that.
As he made his way to the last floor, he walked by the infamous copper player, and he rolled his eyes. Seriously, what did Ash see in an invisible person?
Eugh, must be some weird fetish.
Flame shook it off, shuddering. He did not want to think about that at all. He instead began to think about how in the world he would obtain a mace. This server has so many players, all the trial chambers have probably been raided, so that’s off the table.
He thought some more, and each time he fell short. Every idea got crossed out because of this stupid anarchy server! He groaned out loud and threw his pearl as he jumped off Ash’s large, floating island’s ledge.
He landed on the ground, taking zero hearts of damage and dusting himself off. This mission was going to be a pain in the ass.
“Think Flame, think. Who on this server could possibly have a mace—”
Flame stopped in his tracks and looked up at the sky.
“Wemmbu. That purple stupid blob. Of course! I’ll just go fight him for it!”
The only problem with Flame’s plan was the fact of him having zero idea on where Wemmbu could be. After thinking long and hard—or in Flame’s case, thirty whole seconds—he landed on nothing. Again. God, his memory sucked.
‘It’s only used for pvp, Flame.’ My ass. I can think about other things, Mane.
Wait. Flame’s ears stood up all the way, and he broke out into a grin. That was it! He quickly got out his communicator and opened his messages with Manepear. He fumbled with it, his hands shaking slightly.
The last time they had talked was the…fight. Flame bit his lip. That was the past. He’d still talk with him, right?
‘Hey mane we need to meet about something where u at?’ Was the message he sent, hopefully, Mane responded.
Flame left the mafia area and walked about ten thousand blocks away from the entire thing. Mane still hadn’t answered him. Flame didn’t get nervous often, but when it came to his brother, he always would become some type of anxious, even if he didn’t show it.
“Come on, Mane. Say something. Anything.” The word ‘please’ was on the tip of his tongue, but he’d rather die than say it out loud. Or ever.
He gave up soon after and put away his communicator. He leaned against a tree and pulled at the grass strands. Of course, he wouldn’t respond. He probably hates Flame.
Tears pricked Flame’s blindfold, but he held them back. He would not cry over something so small and stupid. He pulled his knees to his face, and his tail wrapped around his ankle.
“Screw this,” he mumbled out.
Suddenly, a buzz from his pocket came, and he flinched. He scurried to get out his communicator and looked at his messages.
‘One new message from: Manepear, ’ It read.
Holy shit.
“Holy shit,” he muttered.
‘Manepear whispers to you: Flame…? You want to meet? I mean sure come to these cords’
Flame re-read the message over and over again. Mane then sent another list of cords. He couldn’t believe it. Mane responded. He didn’t hate Flame.
Flame then snapped out of it and typed back a quick response. A simple ‘bet’. He tried his best not to freak out, but he was so happy.
Mane would help him, surely, and then they’d find Wemmbu together and get his mace, and then he’d go to Ash and give it to him, or if he saw Clown, he’d hand it over. Maybe the two of them could catch up, and Flame could finally apologize for his behavior.
He fell into the grass and let out a laugh. He was so happy. So, so, so happy. How long until that ends?
…
Flame was nearing the cords Mane had sent him, and he really was beginning to regret not having an elytra. Sure, he hated them with all the will in his body, but that doesn’t mean he can’t complain.
Something about this jungle biome made Flame stand on edge. It must be the nerves of seeing Mane again. After so long.
Must be nerves. Has to be.
He tries his best to shake it off and focuses on his speech, which he half-assed on the way here. Mane would understand. Hopefully. Flame was never good with words anyway.
He soon spotted a gigantic tree in the distance, and his jaw dropped. No fucking shot in hell did Mane build this. He had to have stolen it or something. Flame couldn’t believe it.
Genuinely no way.
He checked the cords three times before making his way over to the tree. He brought pots with him, as he always does, but also one invis. Just in case this was a trap. Which was very likely. Sadly.
Flame had his sword ready at his side and sent out a message to Mane. A quick: ‘Here’.
Don’t jump me, that would be such a waste.
He waited outside the tree, leaned against a nearby smaller tree, and checked his communicator for the time. He sent his message four minutes ago. He’d give Mane six more before he left. If the guy led him on a wild goose chase, there was no point in being here. He may as well leave.
Two more minutes passed, and suddenly he heard a twig snap, and he pulled out his sword to parry Mane’s spear. Any later and he would have been off the server.
“Mane! What the hell?!” Flame threw him off with all his strength.
Mane had a wild grin on his face, and he ran in again to strike. Flame dodged this time and got out his shield. Why was this happening? Sure, it was fun to fight, but with Mane? You could throw the word fun out the window! If the two of them ever fought, it was always to the death or until one yielded.
The last time was during the Prince Zam arc. Mane had been the one to yield, and Flame ‘won’. He never considered it a true victory. Mane wasn’t playing honourably, and Flame had backup from Zam and the others.
“Mane! Stop it, I didn’t come here to fight you, dude!” The wind was picking up, and Flame had to make space if he was going to splash pots.
Although Mane didn’t seem to be potted up, for whatever reason. It made Flame internally groan, and he met Mane’s spear head on this time. The metal clashing made his ears ring, and he adjusted his grip to plant his feet better.
“Not bad, Flame! You’ve gotten better since last time.”
Flame couldn’t hear anything, only the ringing in his ears. He wouldn’t lose. Flame suddenly got out his axe and sliced Mane’s arm clean open. It made Mane hiss and fall back.
Flame wouldn’t let him; he dropped the pots at his feet and closed the distance with a pearl. He took his sword and went for Mane’s torso, to which Mane blocked and threw Flame to the side.
“Flame? Hey, you can stop now, I was only joking.”
His breathing became unsteady, and he only swung harder, sharper at Mane. Winning was the only option. Mane could clearly tell something was off, and he stepped back, readying his spear.
“Okay, so you wanna play like that? Bet.”
Before Flame could even react, he was on the ground. His head hit the dirt way too hard to be healthy, and his sword fell to the side. Mane kicked it away further.
Flame groaned out and rubbed his head.
“What even…? Mane? Ugh, my head.”
Mane glanced back at Flame and quickly got out a golden apple, holding it to Flame’s mouth.
“Eat. Sorry, you were in this trance. Had to snap you out of it somehow.”
Flame ate the apple with quickness, and his headache seemed to fade away. Mane ate his own apple, and the wound on his arm healed slowly. He looked around and stared at the wound for a couple of seconds before getting worried.
“Did I do that? And what do you mean ‘trance’?”
Manepear sits down with Flame and explains what happened. Oh. Flame had another rage spike. He hated those.
“Ugh. Sorry, Mane. I didn’t mean to do that, I just—didn’t wanna lose to you.”
Mane patted his back and nodded his head in understanding.
“I get it, Flame, it’s my fault for attacking you in the first place.”
Flame pouted like a small tiger cub, and his ears went flat against his head. Stupid anger. Now his speech would look lame after his ‘episode’. He worked hard on that.
That was a lie, but Flame would never admit it.
Mane gets off the ground and holds out a hand for Flame. He stares at the hand, and after five seconds that felt way too long, he takes it and helps himself up.
He mumbles out a small “Thanks” before turning to look at the extremely huge tree.
“So, you built this? No offense, Mane, but I find that hard to believe.”
Manepear gives him a mini glare, and wind charges up to stand on top of a nearby tree.
This is not aura, bro.
“What do you take me for, Flame? Of course, I built it! You gotta believe in me, man.”
Believing the Manepear is like willingly eating nails with oil. Or, it could be like eating a nice orange-flavored cake. It really depended on whether you were helpful to him.
Luckily, or maybe not, Flame was helpful. Maybe being Mane’s brother also helped. Just maybe.
Flame himself wind charges up and stands next to Mane. He tried his best to remain silent for the aura, but he ended up groaning.
“Whatever, bro! Look, you know why I’m here, bro? It’s because I need a mace, bro! A mace! And the only person I could think of that has one is Wemmbu. So I’m here for your help, I guess.”
Mane looks down at Flame, and he has a concerned look on his face. He looks off to the side and shakes his head.
“I…can’t help you, Flame. I know I’m the best hunter and stuff, but with Wemmbu it’s just. Complicated. Sorry.”
Flame’s jaw drops, and he clenches his hands.
“What do you mean ‘complicated’? What is there to be confused about? Bro, do you know how easy it would be to track down Wemmbu if we worked together? So easy! I don’t know how your relationship with Wemmbu could in any way be ‘complicated’, but come on, bro. It could be like old times—”
Flame is shut up with a firework going off in the distance. He tenses up, and his eyes follow the sound to see two people land on one of the open areas in Mane’s tree.
Who is that.
“Mane, you have visitors. Hopefully planned.” He grips his sword hard.
Manepear curses and blocks Flame’s view of the tree. Flame tries his best to look past Mane but gets stopped each time.
“You—Flame. You gotta go. I’ll help you later, okay? Just leave. Please.”
Flame froze at Mane’s tone, and he grew irritated. His thoughts ran wild until he heard a familiar loud laugh. An annoying, stupid, disgustingly high laugh.
Wemmbu.
“Why is Wemmbu here, Mane? You—do not tell me you’re hiding him or something.”
Mane groans and pushes Flame back, not letting him go any further.
“No, I’m not hiding him, Flame! I’m…ugh. I’m training him. He already knows the location of my tree, so it’s not like I can tell him off.”
Flame sees red, and he throws a pearl past Mane to the entrance of Mane’s tree at ground level. Mane, shocked, throws one to be in front of Flame again. He raises his hands, blocking Flame.
Technically, Flame could go right past him, but he wasn’t about to fight again.
“Stop. Flame, you have to leave. Once I’m done training Wemmbu, you can have his mace, okay? For now, you have to wait. So please, leave. I don’t want Wemmbu seeing you.”
“Oh yeah, totally, because that’s such a great plan! Let Wemmbu get stronger, and then after that, he’ll just give up his mace! Of course!”
Flame let out a groan and splashed his invis, taking off his armour and pearling away before Mane could say anything else.
He landed a hundred blocks away and punched a tree. The force of it split the bark and sent the tree shaking. The sound echoed throughout the area.
“Stupid Mane. Stupid Wemmbu. Stupid, ugh!” Flame stomped the earth so hard the grass sparked with flames.
Flame, noticing it, quickly puts it out. He didn’t need the whole jungle to catch on fire. Then, Mane would never help him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, biting his lip.
Ash should just pull my stasis, bro.
He shook his head and got up, dusting himself off. Now wasn’t the time to sulk. He should return to Ash and explain everything.
Or, maybe he shouldn’t? Would Ash care much about his sibling drama? No, definitely not. What should he do to pass the time? He was still on edge and wanted to blow off some steam.
Screw it. Let’s pay a visit to spawn.
…
Manepear stood at the top of his tree. Wemmbu and Eggchan were still inside eating. He breathed out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. Wemmbu had questioned him for minutes about what he was doing and who he was talking to. Thankfully, he could convince the two of them that it was nothing and just some random chungie.
How wrong he was. Flame would, of course, be upset. He had every right to be, after all. Something about how Flame acted reminded Mane of how young Flame truly is. He’s only eighteen.
Mane thought about Flame’s chestplate. Diamond trim. Of course, he joined the mafia. For fun or serious, Mane did not know. It’s not like he cared that much. As long as Flame didn’t bother him.
Well, he did bother him just today. Hopefully, Flame wouldn’t return. If he did, well…Mane would have to make him leave again. He hated fighting his brother. It made him feel this sickly feeling in his stomach.
“Ugh, stupid tiger,” he grumbled.
Mane takes a potted plant next to him and throws it off the balcony. This was so dumb. He shouldn’t be getting all worked up over Flame’s temper tantrum. Sadly, he is.
“Mane?” Wemmbu calls out, searching for Mane.
He spins around and takes the staircase down, only to bump right into Egg.
“Oh, found him.” Egg says in his normal monotone voice.
Mane groans and shoves Egg aside as lightly as he can, and his tail flicks harshly behind him.
Wemmbu turns around and waves, only to stop at seeing the irritated lion.
“Whoa, what happened? Did that chungie from earlier make you that mad?” Wemmbu’s tone was that of teasing, but one glare from Mane and he was shut up.
“Nothing. Do you want to train or not? I don’t have time for you to mess around, Wemmbu.” His tone was cold and left zero room for joking.
Wemmbu laughed nervously and rubbed his neck.
“Nah, we can train, my bad.”
Mane nodded and equipped his elytra, flying down to the large flat grass area behind his tree. He and Wemmbu would practice some macing today. Maybe. Mane wasn’t in the mood much to goof off. Or do much of anything.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how betrayed Flame looked. He shouldn’t have been that mean. All he wanted to do was keep Flame safe from…From what? Wemmbu? Flame wasn’t scared of that guy, not in a million years.
“So, Mane! What’cha wanna practice? Oh, oh! Can we do macing? I’ve figured it out some.”
Mane’s ears picked up on Wemmbu’s voice, but his words were muffled. Nothing made sense to him, and everything was going wrong. Great.
Wemmbu glanced at Egg, and in return, Egg shrugged. That made Wemmbu let out a sigh, and he got out his mace.
“Fine, I’ll start us!”
He launches into the air and whips his mace back, ready to crush Mane’s skull in if he didn’t move or block. Mane, snapping out of his train of thought, dodges Wemmbu’s strike and gets out his shield.
“No, Wemmbu! We’re going to do axe today! I’m sick of mace pvp.”
The purple-haired demon groaned and put away his mace, getting out his netherite axe instead. He potted on speed and strength, then ran to meet Mane head-on.
Manepear, being the man he is, completely overpowered Wemmbu and shoved him back. Wemmbu, in turn, slipped on the grass and hit the ground.
“Ow! Ugh, bro, you could’ve warned me.”
Mane laughed and held out his hand to help Wemmbu up. He got a strange deja vu. He brought his hand back quickly, and Wemmbu gave a confused look before helping himself up. Egg sat nearby in the grass, he was jotting down something in his book.
“So…what was that? You held out your hand and then brought it back.”
Mane shook his head and got into his stance again.
“Nothing, again.”
Wemmbu tilted his head but got ready as well, and they went at it, clashing over and over again. Wemmbu was sloppy with an axe. He was slower than Mane by a margin, and he kept losing his footing. If he were training with Flame, he would never make these mistakes.
Mane blinked and shook his thoughts away. Wemmbu isn’t Flame and Flame isn’t Wemmbu. He had to remember that.
“God man, you’re too strong!” Wemmbu kicked Mane away by a few feet and re-potted on speed.
Mane felt a tinge of pride at Wemmbu saying he was strong. He worked hard. He spun his axe and closed the distance, swinging and almost taking Wemmbu’s head off.
Wemmbu let out a loud shriek and parried. He managed to hit Mane square in the face, and it made him fall back slightly.
He began to bleed from his nose, and he wiped it with a grin.
“Finally.”
Wemmbu let out a nervous laugh and barely dodged Mane throwing his axe at him. He was then grabbed by Mane’s hand and shoved into the grass.
“Yield,” Mane muttered.
Wemmbu let out a groan as his face pressed against the grass shards. The one thing about Wemmbu, besides his sloppy fighting style, was that he was stubborn. He’d rather die than admit defeat.
“I’d rather die, Mane.”
Mane let out a huff and let go of the squirming purple demon.
“If I were anyone else, you would have died.” His tone was disappointed.
Wemmbu scoffed and threw Mane’s axe back to its owner. He rolled his eyes and shrugged it off. That made Manepear mad.
“I’m serious, Wemmbu. Imagine if that were any mafia member.”
“Yeah, well, no mafia member besides like a diamond rank could do that to me, so.”
Mane let out a frustrated groan and threw his hands up.
“That’s not the point, Wemmbu! The point is that you don’t die! You have to learn how to shut your mouth and admit you lost! Your ego will get you killed one day.”
Egg snaps his head up at the volume change, and his wings flutter in anxiousness. Mane noticed this and calmed down, breathing in and out.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Uhm, guys?” Egg cleared his throat.
The two of them looked towards Egg, who was now standing, and his wings were seriously freaking out.
“Check your communicators.”
Mane quickly unclips his communicator from his belt and sees the twenty new notifications from world chat.
“What is even going on—”
Mane freezes as he reads the messages.
‘Angy4er was slain by FlameFrags’
‘Cocobean9 was slain by FlameFrags’
‘Singer1jj was slain by FlameFrags’
‘Draiklyer was slain by FlameFrags’
The list of players being slaughtered just kept going. Chat was filled with ‘blank was slain by FlameFrags’ and nothing else.
Mane didn’t know what to do or say. This was insane. Where was Flame even finding the players to do this? Why was he killing random innocent players?
“What the hell, bro? Yo, I get Flame is in the mafia, but Jesus. He’s killing—how many players is that even?”
“Twenty. It’s twenty players. He’s killing them so fast, too,” Egg mumbles.
“This makes no sense! He was just—”
Mane cuts himself off with a groan and begins to send Flame a message.
‘You whisper to FlameFrags: Flame. Stop. You want the mace? Come back here in seven hours’
He sent the message in a hurry, equipped his elytra, and flew back to the top balcony.
Was he that mad? Oh god, I shouldn't have pushed him away.
Technically, Manepear couldn’t care about any new players if he tried, but he was worried about Flame’s health. If he were in a bloodlust and Mane wasn’t there to help him, he wouldn’t know if Flame would ever stop.
“Mane! Don’t just take off like that, dude. We should ignore what’s happening in chat. If anything, it’s just—”
Wemmbu is cut off by Mane slamming him into the wall. He didn’t choke Wemmbu, no. Just rested his hand on his throat.
“You need to shut up. I’m your mentor; you listen to me. If I say we are done training, we’re done. Take Egg, and go do something else. Be back in three hours. I’m so not in the mood for your bullshit, Wemmbu.”
He lets go of Wemmbu and glares at Egg. He then gets out a firework and flies away. Wemmbu and Egg look at each other and become worried, but listen to Mane’s words and fly away from his tree.
…
Flame ripped his sword out of a bloody corpse and scoffed. He felt nothing as he wiped the blood from his face. All these dead players, and the only thing Flame cared about was the loot.
Stupid no armour players. All they had were some diamonds and pork chops.
He scoffed again and walked towards one of the piles of random items, picking through them. He ended up picking nothing up and moving on to another pile.
“Everything is useless. Spawn is the biggest waste of my time. I should’ve just gone and killed Wemmbu—”
Flame is cut off from the buzzing in his pocket. His anger simmers down, but only so he can get out his communicator without crushing it.
‘Manepear whispers to you: Flame. Stop. You want the mace? Come back here in seven hours’ it read.
A message from Manepear himself.
Flame dropped his shoulders and all the fury with it. Oh. Mane still cared. He looked around at the many player corpses and the stray items. He messed up.
Shoot. What would Ash think? Wait, no, why do I care what he thinks?
He paced back and forth, and his tail flicked with him. Should he clean this up? No, no. That would be too soft of him. The players and their things would despawn soon enough. Or he could burn it all.
Flame got out a flint and steel, his eyes catching on the flame as it burst to life.
Beautiful.
As he walked around, dragging his sword into the grassy earth and flickering the sparks onto the blades of grass. He’d have to burn this whole area, a shame. If only Mane had chosen his own brother over a purple demon that can’t even swing a sword right.
It pissed Flame off. Who did Mane take him for? He—he was better than Wemmbu in every way. When Zam ruled, he was the top guard with Mane, not Wemmbu. However, Mane betrayed him for Wemmbu.
That’s why they fought to the death in the first place. Up until Zam came in and split them up, claiming that Wemmbu and Mane could just get to ‘run away’. What came of that? A meaningless death of his empire. Gone and blown up along with everything Flame had some attachment to.
Caring for anything on this server or any server was a waste of time. What was the point if it was going to get blown up or destroyed, or kidnapped, or—Just. Something. Everything.
His ears tuned into the burning of the grass around him, and he realized he had dropped his flint and steel. It was long gone now, having been burned by the same flames that it had lit. A bit poetic. Flame didn’t care for the arts, though.
Luckily, he didn’t burn. Even if he did, he had three bottles of fire resistance on him. He wind charged up and threw a pearl a couple of hundred blocks away. The flames would maybe go out in a few minutes. Not his problem, Ash’s copper and iron players would fix it.
It was getting late. Only five more hours until Flame would go back to Mane’s tree, Wemmbu there or not. If the purple, disgusting, smiley dream rip-off blob were there, he would just kill him.
It doesn’t matter if he’s Manepear’s student. I will kill Wemmbu if I have to.
He sighed and sat on top of the freshly made sandstone. He felt good getting his anger out. He still completely disliked Mane for choosing Wemmbu over him, but for now, he’d wait. As long as Mane got Flame a mace, he’d forgive him.
See Mane? I can be considerate and nice.
Flame almost laughed at himself. Him, the Immortal Demon, being nice? Never in a million years. It was straight-up insulting how his thoughts even said that. Or—he guessed that. Get it?
I’m so lame, bro.
He lay down and breathed again. The world felt so nice beneath his skin. He should nap for a bit. Once he woke up, it would be time to head to Mane’s.
…
Mane punched his training dummy over and over again. The rampage in chat had ended four hours ago, and he was glad it did. Wemmbu and Egg had returned, but they were avoiding Mane, a good idea.
He didn’t mean to snap at Wemmbu; he should really apologize when he gets the chance. More like if he gets the chance. Knowing Flame, he’d become impatient with the timeframe Mane gave him and would show up early.
I sure hope he fucking doesn’t. If Wemmbu or Egg sees him, I’m cooked. We are supposed to be on bad terms.
Mane thought about that for a few moments, his punches slowing.
Are we on bad terms? Flame seemed very upset at him when he pearled away.
He bit his lip, and his ears went slack against his hair. He should also say sorry to Flame. He had to be the mature one after all.
To focus on something else, he began to walk down the spiral staircase and threw a pearl into the kitchen. He may as well make dinner to make it up to Wemmbu somehow. If the stupid kid hated it? He’d never train Wemmbu again.
Although he had to admit, he was proud of him. He’s come a long way. Only thanks to Mane’s own training, of course.
He wore a smug look on his face and turned the stove on. He may as well make some bread, golden carrots, and maybe steak. Even a cake if he feels like it.
Yeah. This is gonna be nice.
Manepear cooks for about two to three hours, some ups, some downs. Although at the end of it all, he had such a mighty feast, he felt proud. The only bad thing is that he might eat it all if Wemmbu and Egg don’t hurry up.
He proceeded to call Wemmbu and Egg to the table, and they soon showed up, Wemmbu showing his normal cockiness and Egg being just as nonchalant. All of that ego and personality broke as soon as the two of them saw the food spread across the long table.
“Whoa, Mane, did you make all of this? That’s insane!”
“Yeah, bro, this is crazy. Is this for all three of us?” Egg blinked into his human form.
It freaked Mane out slightly, and he side-eyed the two of them.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, go ahead and eat it up.”
The two of them didn’t waste any time sitting down and beginning to scarf all of the assortments of food.
Mane excused himself and went out onto the balcony above the dining room area, and he sighed into the open night. Everything seemed calmer. He has yet to apologize to Wemmbu, but maybe that is a thing for in the morning. He wouldn’t want to ruin the mood.
Speaking of ruining the mood, a firework zips through the air, and Mane stands on edge. It wasn’t like Wemmbu or Egg could eat that fast, and Flame most definitely did not own an elytra or would even think twice about making fireworks. Or would he? This may as well be him, considering it was a diamond trim invis player.
The player landed on the large tree branch right next to the balcony and stood there for a few moments.
Lowkey aura. Wait, no, lock in.
I should put on the act that I’m still upset, and he’s too early.
“Flame, why are you here? I—now is not a good time, okay?” Manepear glanced around, and his eyes fell back onto the diamond trim player, their invis flickering.
“Flame, bro, I said not right now. You gotta leave. If anyone sees you, like Wemmbu, it's gonna ruin our plan—”
“Who said I'm Flame?”
Mane froze at the sound of the voice changer. His eyes quickly scanned the diamond trim, and he reached for his spear, his ears going back.
Oh no.
“Who are you then? No one else knows about my tree, and Flame wouldn't just give the location away.”
The diamond trims invisibility suddenly runs out, and a tired FlameFrags stares ahead at his brother.
“Surprise? Sorry, Mane.”
Manepear let out the biggest sigh of his life, and he let out a groan. He glanced behind him, then turned back to Flame and saw the man crouching.
“Dude, why are you crouching? I swear Wemmbu or Egg are not gonna spot you.”
Flame limply mocked him, and his blindfold seemed torn and old. Something was off. Flame was normally bursting with energy, a fiery spirit, and an ego bigger than his body. This man in front of him was not his brother, but a shell of him.
“Flame? Are you doing okay? You seem…tired. I mean, I know what you did earlier. It’s not like I didn’t see it in the chat…”
FlameFrags only smiled weakly at his brother and held out his hand.
“The mace, Mane. I need it by next week. I really couldn't care less about your student mentor bullshit you have going on with Wemmbu. If I don’t get a mace for Clown soon, you can say goodbye to your half-assed relationship with me.”
Mane flinched back at the harsh words. ‘Half-assed’ relationship? He and Flame weren’t on the best of terms, sure, but half-assed? His ears flicked in the wind, and he sighed.
“I can do that. Listen, Egg has a stasis pearl somewhere, I’m positive he does, if you find that and move it to wherever you wanna, I’ll tell you to pull it once I’m talking with Wemmbu and get the mace. You are not allowed to in any way fight Wemmbu. He’ll come for Egg himself once he’s dropped the mace. Once he’s done that, you leave. Then come here, and you can have that stupid mace. Okay?”
Flame’s tail slowly wrapped around his leg, and he yawned.
“Yeah, I can do that, whatever. Just make sure Wemmbu actually gives you his mace. Not some stupid cheap rip-off one he got off a whim.”
Mane tilted his head in confusion before brushing it off. Flame was just bitter. It was to be expected. No matter, Mane only had to wait one week before he could put the plan into motion.
“Well, now that that’s done, why don’t you stay? Once Wemmbu and Egg go to bed—which should be in about twenty minutes—you can have whatever food is left over. Or I’ll make you something new!”
His brother stares at him and offers a small smile. It seemed a little fake, like the ones you give strangers who started talking to you when all you wanted was your Popeyes chicken sandwich.
“I’ll pass, Mane. Ash wants all the diamond players and higher for a large dinner tonight anyway. As much as the mafia rules don’t apply to me, it’s Ash. He’s a headache when mad.”
To say the least, or more so, nothing at all, Mane was hurt a bit. He wished his brother would just not care about his missions and quit the mafia already.
If Flame quit, I could get Wemmbu and him to make up, and then we all could just live here. That’d be…nice.
A suddenly loud laugh came from downstairs, and it made both Mane and Flame tense.
“I swear that stupid blob. He’s so loud.”
Mane laughed at Flame’s mean words, but he wasn’t lying. Wemmbu was loud. He’d have to lecture him about how to be quieter. As if he could talk.
“So, you’re leaving? Nothing you want to talk about that happened?”
Flame glares and shakes his head.
“I have no interest in the past of my rage. Besides, you wouldn’t care that much. It wasn’t interesting. All I did was kill a bunch of new players at spawn. Then maybe burn their corpses and things,” he mumbled.
Mane stood up in shock and was about to reach for Flame’s hand when suddenly he was gone. Someone had pulled a stasis, not one to the void, though.
He groaned and threw another potted plant off the balcony. It landed on a tree with a clash, and he went to go check on Wemmbu and Egg.
…
Flame gasped as he climbed his way out of the water. Stupid stasis. As soon as it had been just getting slightly over the time Flame told Ash he’d be at the dinner, some random gold player had pulled his other stasis.
His clothes dried quickly thanks to his natural heat, but his armour would be soaked. No way in the nether was he going to wear this to the dinner. Ash would never let him.
Right on cue, as if the gold player was hearing Flame’s thoughts and complaints, he hands Flame a brand new set of netherite and a nice outfit. It matched his colors well.
“I…have to wear this under my armour?”
The golden player nodded and set down a sign, saying: ‘Ash’s orders.’
Joy. I’ll be the only one looking this overdressed, I swear.
He stared at the gold player, and they motioned for his old armour. He threw it at them, and they almost fell over. They somehow caught themselves and left his room. He was impressed a little.
Maybe all gold players aren’t so bad after all.
Flame changed his clothes as quickly as he could and glanced at the gloves on the side table. He would rather die than wear those. He’s never worn gloves in his life because, in his humble opinion, it ‘got in the way of pvp’.
This, of course, was not true. Flame just could not be bothered to put them on if he was about to go eat, because then they would become dirty, even if they happened to be black.
He then moved to put on the fresh, newly crafted netherite set that the gold player had happily donated to him. The diamond carving shimmered and reflected his figure.
Wow, it really does look better the less bloody it is.
As he slowly put it on, the straps buckled in place. It fitted him nicely, looser than the last one. Better for pvp. His eyes caught onto the new black blindfold underneath everything, and he froze. The last time he had changed his blindfold was when he was only a cub. No way in hell was he changing it just because Ash asked.
Hopefully, there weren’t many people at this dinner; he didn’t know what he would do if he was forced to talk to everyone. Single. One. He shivered at the thought. Talking to people for more than two minutes was torture for Flame. Unless it was when fighting, and he was the one talking—blatant jabs and mocks.
Walking for a long time was calming to Flame, even if it’d only been twenty minutes since he’d gotten dressed. He did feel lighter, more alive. Whoever made this armour, he owed it to them.
Er, scratch that. Flame didn’t owe anyone anything. Besides, maybe Mane. He did raise him after all.
Flame felt lonely as he walked through the tall hallways of Ash’s castle. He understood that he was alone in life and he’d never be able to live freely, but it still hurt. A lot.
As if I’d ever admit to Ash I hated going on missions alone. If anything, they are better because that means no stupid chungies get in my way.
His footsteps grew louder as he went higher up in the castle; he was only a few minutes late for Ash’s dinner. Technically, Ash shouldn’t care. Flame never attended his dinners because he had no reason to. The only reason he was going this time was that he told Ash he would be there, and he never breaks promises.
I’m a man of my word. Always will be.
His tail flicked back and forth as he stood in front of the tall door to Ash’s dining room. He may be an idiot. Why did he have to make that promise? He was getting cold feet. More like warm feet. Because he’s never cold.
Okay. Okay. I’ve got this.
Flame breathed out and opened the doors; music began to play. He flinched back at the sound, and his head spun.
It smells like shitty cologne and alcohol. The music totally isn’t creepy either.
He stalked inside, and the doors slammed shut behind him, rudely. Something in the back of his mind ached to leave.
He would have to push it aside as he crept deeper into the room.
Music, classical to be exact, was playing from the walls. Whoever turned this on had terrible taste. Although Flame was never into the slow aspects of life. Blame Manepear for that.
Flame loosely fidgeted with his sword or his hilt; something about Ash’s whole castle freaked him out. He always stood on edge. In reality, it sucked.
As he walked further into the room, he took everything in. In his pants pocket, the new blindfold hung out slightly, and he regretted bringing it. He, of course, would never put it on.
Flame bumped into another large door, and he groaned. Ash needed a new builder.
He reached for the door, and when it opened, cold air met him. His ears went back against his head, and he covered his face with his arms.
“What the hell,” he squeaked.
“Flame,” Ferre greeted, holding out his hand.
Flame’s eye twitched, and he reached for Ferre’s hand with a slowness he didn’t expect. They shook hands for three seconds until Flame let go, and Ferre began to walk inside with him.
“Why in the world is it so cold in here? Or was that just because of the door being shut for so long?”
Ferre gave a small nod, laughing.
“I think it was because Ash likes the cold more. Something about it being the right temperature for squids.”
Flame tilted his head and stopped for a moment.
Ash wasn’t a squid?
He wouldn’t push the question because frankly, he didn't care. All he wanted was to get this dinner over with.
Speaking of dinner, the fresh smell of baked goods and steak hit his nose. His tail swayed behind him happily. He hadn't eaten all day. Well, besides that golden apple, Mane made him eat.
The two of them walk, and Flame has to avoid two silver players who walk by him. Were they blind?
He decides not to engage with it and instead focuses on the three people at the large table.
Ashswag, Clownpierce, and FerreMc. The leader of the invis mafia, the deadliest player, and the leader of the diamond players.
Flame would be lying if he wasn’t slightly intimidated. He nervously grins and walks over to the free seat next to Ash.
“Flame! Wonderful of you to finally make it here. I see you’re wearing the outfit I picked out for you, and the new armour. The only thing missing would be…the gloves and the new blindfold.”
Flame looked down at the empty cup in front of him, and he shrugged.
“I hate gloves,” he mumbled.
Ash’s glitch on the side of his face flickered, and he gave a tight smile.
“Hm. What of the blindfold?”
Flame gets it out and hands it over to Ash, his face turned completely away from Ash.
Ash took the blindfold with his gloved hands and rubbed the fabric.
“A shame. This fabric was so expensive to craft.”
“I’ll still take it, dude.”
Clown and Ferre looked up at him in small bits of shock.
What was their issue?
Oh. I just called Ash ‘dude’.
“What did you just call me, Flame?” His tone was cold and tight.
Flame’s ears went back, and he gulped.
I’m so cooked bro.
He glanced up from his plate and gave a small grin.
“Nothing, sir.” He never called Ash ‘sir’, but maybe if he tried, Ash would drop it?
The next thing he knew, he had been splashed with invis by a random silver player, and he almost snapped at them. He would’ve if it wasn’t for Ash slamming his hand down on the table.
Flame sat his ass right back down and sat straighter. He may as well not anger Ash any further.
“You will remain invisible until I permit you to not be. If you so much as think of drinking milk or disregard my orders, you will be dropped into the void. You’ve disappointed me, Flame. I hope you learn your lesson.”
Flame’s jaw dropped, and he clenched his hands against the cloth on the table. No one besides him could see this anymore, of course, but it was obvious Flame was upset.
Oh, go jump off a tower, Ash.
For the rest of dinner, he remained uncommunicative. He only spoke if Ash said his name more than one time and grew impatient.
He stabbed his steak with an anger that Clown noticed but did not comment on, and Ferre had to cover his mouth to not laugh.
Flame would so attack them right now if Ash weren’t here. Screw these guys.
The three of them talked for two more hours before Ash stood up and raised his glass to the air.
“To the invis mafia, forever strong. We will rule this server and reform it. The mafia will never die.”
Ash looks over to see Flame slouched in his chair, and his glitch flickers.
“Flame, you will forever be one of us. A diamond player. No matter how much you try to deny it, blood will always spill from your sword. That same sword was given to you by me. I do hope you know how important you are to this cause. Now,” he raises his glass even higher, “Long live the mafia.”
Flame felt sick to his stomach, and he pushed his steak away. Suddenly, the mafia seemed more like a cult than a place Flame could freely fight. He hated that.
Long live the mafia, my ass. I hope you burn, Ash.
The dinner ended, and he dragged his feet, only thirty more seconds on his invis. No one was around, and he himself never carried any pots. Would this be his fate?
He watched as the seconds counted down, and he shut his eyes.
“Flame, you aren’t done yet. You still have a purpose,” Ferre mumbles as he splashes an invis pot at Flame’s feet.
“What?” He coughed out.
Before he could question the man, he was already way ahead, standing near Clown like a clone. Stupid Ferre.
Although he was right. Flame did still have a purpose. Get the mace.
He opened up his communicator and sent Manepear one message.
‘You whisper to Manepear: where’s eggs stasis’