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Bundle, Loose Tie, Sickle, Knot.
Lomedy’s words echo through Flame’s head as he bundles the eighth group of wheat in the field, cutting the base cleanly with the sickle, but tying the knot only slightly better than the other seven bundles of wheat. It still holds, but the twine is very small, and the Fire Protection leather gloves are not helping. Flame places the bundle of wheat in the basket with the others, taking a moment to sit back, stretch his back, and look across the fields at Lomedy who is tending the carrot field. Far enough away that they can’t talk, but close enough that Flame can still see him in case anyone approaches him that’s unwelcome.
He sighs deeply looking towards the sun as it crawls closer to the horizon. Peace, after the constant adrenaline running from the Law, it’s still weird. He closes his eyes behind his blindfold and takes one deeper breath before bending back over to the next group of wheat that is ready to be harvested.
Bundle, Loose Tie, Sick-
“So, this is how far the Immortal Demon has fallen? The great FlameFrags is harvesting…wheat?” The accented voice begins behind him. A voice Flame hasn’t heard in a long time now, causing the sickle to cut at an angle upwards as he clenches. He knows Lomedy is going to get on his case about the uneven cut. He finishes tying the knot, before sitting up and turning to look at the man behind him. “Who knew that such a great warrior would be reduced to a Farmhand.”
Flame levels a glare behind his blindfold as he stands up, casually brushing some of the dirt off his pants to tower over the purple masked former dictator, “I thought Spoke killed you, Ash.” Flame brushes the dirt off the special gloves before removing them, allowing his smoldering hands to breathe as he looks up and down the former Mafioso. His shoulder cape is pleated wrong, and his shirt is wrinkled in about three spots. Unkempt. He was eager or rushed.
“Eh heh he,” Ash laughs lowly, “No, he wasn’t ready. He might now be, which is why I am here. It is almost time for us to reclaim our lands and take the server over once and for all. I’ve come to return you to our fold.” Ash holds out his hand invitingly.
Flame lets out a hearty laugh, “Nah bro, you must be kidding.” Ash glares at him and drops his hand to his side again as Flame settles his laugh, “You aren’t joking, I don’t know if that’s worse or not.” Ash continues to glare at his former Diamond Trim as Flame shakes his head, “Look, bro, your Mafia took me in after Zam ran his kingdom into the ground. It was fun and all, and I had the respect I needed at the time, but, bro, I have outgrown your Mafia like I outgrew the Zam Empire. My friend broke that Eye Trim chest plate that I clung onto after the Mafia. It’s why I use the Rib Trim now; nothing has locked me down. The same friend showed me defeat and the strength it required to rise back up.”
The nukes raining down on the mesa, an ender pearl that was just a second too late, watching the remnants of the Red Trimmed Netherite chest plate skitter across the same mesa. Distractions too soon refocused with a diamond chest plate to replace the old one. The shattered eye trim glittering under the moon, my rival’s taunting voice echoing off the stones around me, “Like, you’ll never be the strongest ever again. Just always remember that.”
“It took another enemy attacking me with invisible Netherite soldiers to break me out of the final mindset that the Mafia is still my family.”
Chasing the self-righteous cat down into the depths of the earth, catching myself from a high fall into an abandoned city, the invisible players swarming out of the darkness with their Netherite, surrounded by those seeking the caracal’s justice.
“And it took the words of my friend, brother, and enemy to finally make me realize everything I have worked for would be for naught if I continued the path I was going towards.”
The golden eyed man shoving the shulker box into my chest, “Keep defending your title. But don’t drag me down with it.” The door slamming behind me made me jump slightly as my only friend abandoned me.
My hand taps uneasily against my leg as the water sprays up from the orange haired man’s efforts, “-well that is only if your name is all you have. If you have something else that makes you who you are, if you have something else that you hold valuable to you. Then that’s what your respected and known for.” A frown stretches across my face deeper and deeper as my former brother continues to row and speak. My own retorts are softer than normal.
The paws circle the bars separating us as the black eyes rise towards my blindfold, “I’m out of cards to play. My army scattered, my deputy’s dead, and there’s no one to hold you accountable for what you do with your strength.” My fists unclench as I look at the defeated sheriff, his words ringing in my head. The two defeated men look at each other carefully, finally recognition of all the past dialogues coming to an understanding.
“So no, I don’t need you or your crummy dead Mafia anymore. So, get out of here before I finish what Spoke started.” Flame reaches for Fragger, sheathed on his side.
“I see now. You haven’t fallen,” Ash’s eyes drag over to the farmer, “You’ve been tempered, what a shame.” Ash looks back at his former commander.
Flame glares deeper, gripping Fragger and beginning to unsheathe it, “I think it’s time you leave, Ash.” Lomedy’s footsteps begin to approach Flame from behind, but Flame keeps his eyes on the former manipulator. His friend’s footsteps are easily recognized by Flame.
“Your weakness is on full display, Combat Master. It will be your downfall.” Ash states, pulling out a fishing rod and casting it to Flame’s right. Disappearing with the pop of an ender pearl.
Flame takes a deep breath, releasing Fragger back into the sheath. “Flame? Was that-…?” Lomedy asks slowly.
“A washed-up lonely dictator with no one to follow him.” Flame waves his hand dismissively, looking at his golden-eyed friend. Noticing Lomedy is already kneeling looking at the poorly cut wheat stems that Ash caused.
“Bro, how are you a Combat Master and you can’t cut with a sickle straight?” Lomedy asks, teasingly.
“Bro!” Flame groans, “You are not allowed to say that! Not cool, bro!” Lomedy laughs heartily and Flame joins him, shaking his head and grinning. Peace, at least for now.