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As an angel, it was your duty to serve The Aether.
This was a fact that archangel connexion understood better than anyone.
However, he still yearned for the mortal world.
And so, a contract was made.
Five years were to be permitted in the mortal world, where the angel would be able to live as a human.
Once those five years were over, the angel would return to The Aether to serve for eternity.
With all mortal memories erased.
___
Soft buds of violet stood stark among the white snow.
In a way, these flowers reminded Sharp of Jude, perhaps in the way they stubbornly stood even in the biting cold, or maybe just the similarity in the colours.
He wondered if Jude liked violets, not that the trapper had struck him as "a flower sort-of guy."
Ah well.
It didn't really matter.
After all, what were a couple of violets to Sharp anyway?
Pretty purple flowers mean nothing if Sharp can't remember them.
___
It was strange.
Strange to think that this server, everything, everyone, isn't constant.
Not in the sense that it wouldn't be here.
More in the sense that Sharp wouldn't be here.
He wouldn't be here.
Sharpness didn't quite know how to feel about that.
Because to understand how he feels, he'd have to come to terms with the fact that he would be gone.
He doesn't want to.
He doesn't want to accept the fact that soon, he'll no longer be able to be here. No longer able to PvP with Flowtives, or bicker with Evo and Spongs. No longer able to fish with Lettuce and do Lopezz's hair. No longer able to fight with Noob and Tai.
No longer able to be with Jude.
He can't accept that.
Because knowing how he feels means knowing what to feel, and knowing that means that Sharpness needs to accept what he needs to feel about.
Something he just can't bring himself to do.
Sharpness stands up from the rock he had been sitting on for the past hour, stretching his aching body.
He doesn't have anything to do, but anything is better than staying on the damned rock stuck thinking in circles.
Maybe he'll go take a walk.
Right. A walk, that would be nice.
One foot in front of the other, step by step, across the mossy floor and frost-crusted grass.
Step after step, Sharp would wander the forest, trees and snow becoming a blur, until it would become no more than a distant memory. Soft white flakes would flutter down and coat his body, armor slowly becoming soaked. Yet Sharpness would remain oblivious to this, aimlessly wandering through the forest on loop, cold and alone, desperately denying his fate.
Quite tragic really.
___
"You bitch-"
"Really Sharp? Again? What is this, like the thousandth time I've trapped you-?" The trapper's voice echoed from above, his mocking tone jesting alongside his crimson red eyes.
Sharpness had no choice but to crane his head up, looking up into the glowing red eyes, emerald irises meeting ruby.
"Oh my gawd Jude! Can't you just fight fairly for once?"
"Uh huh. And what? Get absolutely destroyed by you princess? Nah, I'll stick with trapping." With a click, and flick of the lever, Sharpness would be rendered dead, blood splattering upon the stone floor.
Consciousness would return to Sharpness in bits.
First came the faint sensation of realizing his sentience.
And then the pain hit, a throbbing sensation against his skull, courtesy of the dripstone dropped on it from none other than the one and only JudeLow Lasso.
Sharpness pushed his aching body up, trying to ignore the blood dripping from his head, red falling amongst the white of the pristine quartz floors in Jude's base.
Oh right.
Jude's base.
He really should move out of here, build his own base that would stand for years-
not like that would matter.
He slowly stood up, an involuntary groan escaping his lips as bits of white danced around his vision.
Why was he up?
Oh right. His stuff.
Sharp limped up the base, sore legs trudging through the dew-coated grass of spawn as he returned to the trap, praying that Jude had not yet left.
And low and behold, there he stood, in all his glory, fluffy ears perked up, Sharpness's armor gathered in his arms.
"Jude!"
"Oh hey princess, back so soon for seconds?"
"Oh my god Jude! Give me back my stuff!"
"Huh, this old stuff? I mean, if you want it so bad, then go get it!"
And with that, the bunny tossed his armor and items into a ravine before running off.
"Better luck next time!" The trapper cackled, running away towards his next unfortunate victim.
"Better luck next time?" What did that even mean?
Sharp would train, sure, he'll practice, but by the time he'll be done.
Oh dammit.
What's the point of him trying if he won't be here to use it anyway?
Its so fucking unfair.
Everyone else can improve, why can't he?
How come everyone else gets to keep going on with their lives and Sharp's just ends?
He can't even do anything about it.
Because his fate has long been predetermined.
And how is that fair?
How is any of this fair?
Goddamit, why must it happen to Sharp of all people?
He spent so long dreaming of a life like this.
A life where he can just rest. Play. Have fun. Meet friends and allies without having to worry about losing them.
A life without duties, without stress, without having to constantly worry about what would come the next day.
A life where he could just be him, not an archangel, not a swordmaster, just himself.
And the moment he achieved this life, the moment all he worked for is here, he loses it all.
How is that fair?
As an archangel, Sharpness is no stranger to justice and equality.
He'll serve centuries, millennia bestowing justice in The Aether.
Yet justice and equality seems to be evading him.
He hated it.
Hated the fact that everyone will be able to move on.
That Strength, that Jude, will have a life after him.
That they'll one day live a future without him.
Damnit.
What kind of sins must he have committed in his past life to deserve this?
Damnit!
Why must he be forced to such a tragic end?
Why can't he do something? Anything? Anything to live, to keep on living?
Sharpness didn't want to die.
He could feel his legs give out, collapsing under him.
He looked down at his hands, bloody and bruised from punching the stone.
He hadn't even noticed that he had started to do that.
drip, drip.
Droplets splattered onto the ground, tears mixing with blood amongst the gravel.
Sharp didn't want to die.
He knew that technically, he wouldn't be dead.
Technically.
But would he still be living if he can't remember any of this?
He doesn't want to return back to The Aether, back to the rigid white gates.
Back to sterile temples and cold expressions.
Would it be living if he was nothing more than a tool, a knight at the gates, and executioner at the guillotine?
Because then who would he be, without his memories?
Who would Sharpness be, if he could no longer remember anything that made him him?
Isn't that practically a fate akin to death?
___
Lush grass wove beneath Sharp's fingers, as he leaned against the tree.
Golden sunlight flickered upon the ground, a reminder of the grapefruit sunset.
Sharpness had came to the meadow seeking a place to train, to turn his mind off for a few hours.
However, his plans were soon interrupted by a certain bunny-eared trapper.
---
"Yo Sharp, what are you doing out here?" The bunny smirked as he bounded over towards the swordmaster.
"Training."
"Yo sound grumpy. Come one, are you still salty from last time? That was like ages ago! Really, you're training. Come on! Let's do something fun?"
"Fun, like what?"
"..."
"I don't know, we can like talk and I don't know. Make flower crowns?"
...
In the end, Sharp had not gotten much training done that afternoon.
---
Sharpness tilted his head up, watching as the blue sky faded to gold, and into a soft grapefruit colour.
The afternoon had been pleasant, weaving flowers into crowns, pollen coating their hands and hair alike.
They had passed hours like that, talking about stupid irrelevant things and weaving flowers into wreaths, until Jude finally grew weary, leaning his head onto Sharp's lap.
The bunny still lay there, softly snoring on Sharp's lap while he leaned against the tree, his violet hair glowing in the sun.
He was cute, adorable really.
For a trapper who prided themselves on their stealth and vigilance, sleeping on their rivals lap felt almost alarming.
Not that Sharp was complaining, of course.
Times like this is what made Sharp appreciate his decision to be able to experience the mortal world.
Unfortunately, it made it all so much harder to let go.
Did Sharp really have to leave?
Is there really any way to stay, to remember, to live?
Could he be able to stay if he just did something differently?
What if he served The Aether perfectly? Would they allow him to stay on Strength with his friends? With Jude?
Or what if he ran away? Never went back to The Aether. Would he be able to change his player tag? Hide his identity? Live out a life as a human?
Yet again, it would feel cruel to rob "heaven" of their strongest angel.
But is there any way that he could just stay?
Remain here with Jude, the grass soft beneath them and the grapefruit sunset above?
Was there a way, any way?
Sharpness didn't want to go. He didn't want to be alone.
Could he perhaps grab Jude's hand and leave him alone, to pull the bunny with him to heaven? But in what universe would Jude agree to go with him? He doubts the trapper would like the rigidness of The Aether, or the sterile rooms. It would be impossible to convince him to come with him.
So was this it?
Sharpness closed his eyes, resting his head against the rough bark behind him.
Is there simply no way for him to stay with Jude?
Were they simply never meant to be?
Sharpness hoped not.
As he drifted off, Sharpness could only hope that somewhere, in some universe would he and Jude be able to stay together.
Forever.
___
Soft autumn leaves drifted through the air, a mirage of red and orange dancing in the reflections of the pond they had fallen into.
Several more would be crushed under Sharpness's heel, the leaf folding in before fulling breaking.
Summer had long passed, spent in a meadow with Jude among grapefruit sunsets and flowers.
It was autumn now, days growing longer, shadows stretching forward, predating the end of the year.
The end of his contract.
It was arriving, faster than Sharp would've preferred.
Autumn had never been his favourite season, despite popular belief. Something about the weather being chilly, yet not cold always felt unstable, too mild and balanced to feel natural.
He had always favoured winter, for the beauty of the snow ;something about the stark beauty had reminded him of himself. He would have even preferred summer, or maybe even spring, for its flowers and dew.
Recently however, he had taken a liking to autumn. Maybe it was for him finally being able to appreciate the beauty of the red and oranges, or maybe because of a certain trapper.
---
It had happened a few weeks ago, when Jude had asked if Sharp had wanted to meet up at his base.
Sharp had agreed, arriving to the base only to find Judelow standing there with two lattes and a scarf.
"Fall is quite pretty, don't you think Sharp? Come on, let's go for a walk in the forest."
The wandered amongst the forests of spawn, not talking, but instead resting in a comfortable silence.
"Fall is my favourite season. Did you know that?" Jude hummed, wandering down the path in front of Sharpness.
"Really? I thought bunnies liked spring?"
"Maybe. Personally though, I like the colour of the leaves, y'know, the red and orange. Makes it easier for trapping."
"Huh."
---
Perhaps now, if you ask Sharpness, he might say that his favourite season is autumn. As for why, it could be for the colours of ruby and topaz, maybe for the scent of lattes, or just memories of a certain bunny-eared trapper.
Sharpness cherished that memory. Because soon, memories will be all that he has, and perhaps even less.
In a way, Sharpness was lucky. Lucky to have something to cherish, to miss. Lucky to have so many people he'll ache to forget.
At this point, he no longer had a point in denying that he would be gone.
After all, there really is no use in fighting something he can't change.
It's depressing, really. The great swordsmaster no longer able to fight, to look others in the eye.
In a stupid sense, Sharpness wished he could leave earlier. So that there would be less memories to make, less things to remember, to miss, to forget.
Yet deep down, he knew he didn't want to die.
It was stupid.
He was stupid.
Sharpness wishes that he can have more time, to do things, to be happy, to spend with his friends.
He had never been the smartest, or the brightest, but perhaps he could've learnt.
Not that he can now.
Not that he ever can.
___
The violets were growing again, purple outside the gates of the church that Sharp had built.
Members of the server haven't seen the swordsmaster for a while, few catching rare glimpses of him.
Little did they know that these may just be the last few ones they'll receive.
---
The granite floor was cold beneath Sharpness, in a way not different from the snow outside.
It doesn't matter ; he was beyond caring now.
He wouldn't remember any of this in a few hours time anyway.
Ironic, since as desperate as he was to spend more time with his friends, he spends his last fleeting moments alone.
Is this how it feels to be an ill patient, about to pass?
Or is this more akin to a prisoner's final battle in a colosseum?
It's unfortunate. So unfortunate.
Sharp wishes that he could've spent more time with the server.
He wishes he can stay for longer.
But alas, fruitless wishes like that are useless.
So instead, Sharpness wishes that he could've just spent more time with the others, made more memories. He wishes that he could've given them more to remember him by, more to reminisce about.
Will they reminisce about him?
Sharp doesn't know. Probably never will.
He wonders what they'll do when he leaves. Will they search for him? Call for him? Will they worry? Will Jude worry? He knows he'll never know the answer, but a man can dream.
It's stupid really, ironic that only in his last few moments will he finally accept his fate.
But that's just typical Sharp fashion ; realizing things just a bit too little late.
He'd been stupid, and he knows that. Finally. When it no longer matters.
It's alright though.
Sharpness knows he's going to miss them, if he even has the luxury of doing so.
Maybe they'll miss him.
Perhaps they'll meet again in another life.
Sharpness closes his eyes for one final time.
As he drifts off, he looks back to memories of his friends, of FLowtives, Evourai and SPongs, Flankee and Twirpes. Lopezz and Lettuce. Jaden and Dol9hin. Boomie and Mugm. Tai and Noob. Saparata.
And Jude.
Sharp reaches out towards them, but they seem just too far out of reach.
He's going to fall behind.
But then a hand reaches out,
Jude.
"Really princess, falling behind? Come on, let's go."
Sharp takes the outstretched hand, and follows towards home.
connexion would later look at the figures, at the faces that blurred like mirages, at the voices that whispered out like static, leaving him behind.
___
The bold red of roses stood out in the white snow.
Judelow stopped, pausing to observe the fifteen buds. They reminded him of Sharpness, maybe in their elegance or just the deep red colour.
Does Sharpness like roses? He seems like he would.
Maybe he'll give them to him later.