Chapter Text
The paperwork just kept flying in and in.
Seriously bro, this couldn’t be the sole purpose of a king.
Parrot sighed with annoyance as he kept filling the seemingly endless paperwork. Most of it was just about Capital City, and the damages it had taken from Wemmbu’s stab shots. The macaw just skimmed through them like it meant nothing. It did mean something, to say the least. But his mind was at peace with the ignorance, for once.
Disappointment rarely overcomes him, and today was one of those rare days where it did. He had called him ‘his Last Hope’, his friend.
Wemmbu had always been unpredictable and unstable but Parrot really thought he had changed.
The King stood up, deciding to procrastinate this once as he opened his balcony doors and let the night air caress his feathers; the Royal chambers were quite nice, actually. If only he had someone to share them with.
…
Wait. He did! Where were Theo and Reina? He could’ve sworn he was just talking to them minutes ago, telling them that he was going to find Saparata.
…What? No. That didn’t make sense. He had been doing paperwork all day. He hadn’t talked to Theo nor Reina, and Saps…Saparata was the king, not him.
“They’re dead.” nonononono.
Parrot spun around, but there was no one there—in fact, he wasn’t even in the Royal Chambers anymore. Everything was dark, the exact voidly shade of black that Spoke had.
“You’re dead. You’re not even real!” His fists clenched at his sides, ignoring his heart rate picking up. “. This is a dream. Stop it.”
“Tell yourself to do it. You know I am just a fragment of your imagination.” Wifies was suddenly standing before him, his head tilted slightly, an old habit of his that Parrot could recognize from anywhere.
Blood. It seeped from Wifies’ hairline, masking his features in a bloody, disgusting mess. Parrot’s stomach violently twinged. It was happening again. Each time he hallucinated with his dead friend, somehow he imagined his features even more distorted than before. He was forgetting how his face really looked.
“I really hope that you finally understand that the server is far too gone.” Wifies’ voice overlapped with Lettuce’s and that was enough spook to snap Parrot out of his dream-state.
▀▄▀▄▀▄
The snow was warm. That or Parrot was sick. It was probably the latter, but he had no way to tell for sure.
When he had woken up inside the hollow fallen spruce that he was calling home for now, his entire frame couldn’t stop shaking.
His health bar was a flashing display of four hardcore hearts. Wincing, Parrot fumbled in his inventory until he found his last golden apple and bit. An artificial effect of vitality washed over him, getting rid of the shivering and leaving a heavy exhaustion. Through his peripheral vision, Parrot saw two more hearts stitching themselves together as he slumped against the rotting wood.
Theo and Reina.
Reina was dead. That was for sure. Saparata was an extremist; he had probably set a death trap at spawn, insta-murdering new players, while the rest of his forces hunted down the ones who’d managed to start a life.
Theo…about him, Parrot wasn’t so sure. Yes, Theo had tried killing ShoeBilly and the rest of Cindercrest in previous battles, but the macaw knew that Saparata was smart. He wouldn’t let such…power go to waste and rot in the Underworld. Plus, Theo was an old player. Saps had the weapon he wanted, just not the mindset he craved from it.
The warm sensation of snow was returning. Parrot curled up, his fingers twitching towards his inventory slots. He let them relax. What was even the point of checking his inventory anymore? There was nothing that could help him out.
Not that he wanted help.
“Parrot…?” Fuck the new voice. His bad mood spiked as he wrapped his clipped wings around himself, his heart filling with a strange, unfamiliar dull ache. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to do anything.
“Parrot, you can’t ignore me forever.”
“You aren’t real.”
“Still, you can’t ignore me forever.” Theo’s voice repeated, that familiar whiny edge recognizable from yards away.
Parrot closed his eyes tightly, something wet and warm trailing down his temple.
“Go away.” His voice cracked. “. Please.”
—
It wasn’t until he was taking damage from starvation that Parrot moved to bite down on one of his ten cooked beef.
How long had it been since he’d lied down? He was in the same position, it couldn’t have been too long.
Beef tasted like nothing at all. Parrot sat straight and let his head loll to the front. He pulled his legs against his chest, trying to get warmth that wasn’t there.
Theo.
Reina.
Deputy_Ace.
Spepticle.
Boomie.
Wifies.
Nufuli.
Dean.
Luigi.
Every single one of them was gone, and every single trail of blood led back to him. The players that tried to dethrone him were right; he was terrible. He was a danger to himself and to the people surrounding him. Parrot pressed his hands over his eyes, trying to block out the outside world and lean into the darkness, but a choked, wet sob tore through his throat anyway. He curled into a tighter ball, pressing his forehead against his knees as hot tears spilled over. He only wanted to make the server a better place for everyone.
I’m just trying to help. Am I so evil for that?
—
His feet could barely hold his weight; Parrot felt exhausted. More exhausted than he had been in years of playing. Maybe I’m just…saving energy. For when the real fight comes.
When was even the real fight? Hadn't he just lost?
The snow was ankle-deep, navigating through this spruce biome felt like hell but ten times slower…and colder. Snow wasn’t really supposed to generate like that, which strangely made him think about Spoke. How was his brother doing? Better question, where was his brother?
Curious, given the fact that SpokeIsHere loved chaos more than anyone, and Parrot wasn’t an expert here, but prettyyy sure civil wars are chaotic.
Maybe he was figuring out the null thing he'd told him about. Parrot only hoped he was alright.
Parrot’s legs gave out for a third time. Shit. The temporary strength the potion had given his body was gone. The hybrid stumbled forward, catching himself on a thick, spruce trunk and leaned his weight against it. The shivers were starting to ripple through his body once again. Did he have any other strength potions? Parrot opened his inventory, his unfocused eyes darting back and forth over his slots, looking for any resources he had left from his confrontation with Saps.
– 2 regen potions.
– 1 strength potion.
– 7 cooked beef.
– 2 golden carrots.
Those were the only resources he had at disposition if he ever came across Saparata and his army again, and if given the case, holy shit he was cooked.
As he pulled himself up again, a bone-chilling scream tore through the woods. Every feather on his body flattened against his skin. Parrot stayed very, very still at the horrifying sound, eyes widening behind his blood-smeared domino mask. Was someone getting mauled by a wolf or something? Had Cindercrest found him? How? Spawn was thousands of blocks behind him. After mindlessly traveling through diverse terrain there was no way Saparata knew his exact coordinates, let alone moved through his perimeter without making a single sound. It just didn’t make sense.
When he was just thinking the aggressor was gone, a sharp thwack! cut through the silence. Parrot’s eyes narrowed as he strained his hearing. The twig snapping had sounded too close, and way too coincidental for his liking. He selected his bow on his hotbar and waited.
One
Two
Parrot spun around and shot.
“Yo– Chill dude!”
The arrow barely missed PrinceZam’s head. The siren hybrid yelped as he ducked down, knees sinking into the snow.
…
PrinceZam? Really? Parrot slowly lowered his weapon, squinting towards the spooked player.
“Zam? W-what are you—” his stomach suddenly betrayed him. A heavy, painful wave of nausea washed over him. Parrot stumbled backward, his shoulder crashing into the trunk of the tree he had just been leaning on as he bent over and retched up on a bush. How did he still have food in his stomach after throwing up four times already?
“Parrot?”
“Give me–” he coughed, “Gimme a second bro.”
A ‘second’ later, the macaw tried to regain his composure, standing up straight and quickly wiping his mouth. Dude. Had he just vomited in front of Zam out of all people? How did people call this again? Hitting rock bottom?
Leaning against something to maintain stability was new to Parrot, but he genuinely felt unstable.
Like the Unstable SMP? Get it?
Gee. It was funny to him.
When was even the last time he’d seen Zam? Since Law? Right. Spoke had broken out Wemmbu and Zam out of prison. That was as far as his memory stretched.
So then what was Zam doing in a random spruce biome thousands of blocks away from spawn?
“You look like hell, dude.”
Parrot opened his eyes. He didn’t even know he had them closed. Zam was staring at him with a raised eyebrow and a familiar flicker of amusement. He looked basically the same since their last encounter; Long blonde hair tied in a braid, deadbeat diamond armor, and the signature crown that rested on his head. Zam still carried himself with the confidence of a king, like if he still ruled the PrinceZam empire. A wave of nostalgia washed over Parrot. Things hadn’t been easier back then, but nonetheless the server didn’t feel as serious as it was now, and he used to be closer with his brothers.
Aside from Spoke. He hadn’t forgiven him completely for what he did to him and to…No. Forget it.
Why was he even thinking about this..?
Parrot snapped back into reality just to find himself dragged by the yellow man through the thick snow dampening his aviator pants.
“Zam…? Let go.” He mumbled, stumbling behind him. His legs felt heavier, like if weights were tied to his ankles, holding him back. What the hell. He hated that he lost a fight and two of his friends and now he felt all weepy and sad and exhausted. He hated the hot, embarrassed unshed tears that threatened to leak out. He felt pathetic. Was he pathetic? Did he look as pathetic as he felt? He should ask Zam. Maybe if he took a bath—
“—so like what’s up with that?” Zam’s voice suddenly stopped his train of thoughts.
Blinking twice, the cold, damp feeling of the snow was gone, replaced by the crackling of fire and the smell of…apples? Parrot’s fingers flew up to his chestplate, but he instead was greeted with the soft texture of wool under his fingertips. He was basically one-tap right now, but Zam hadn’t banned him yet. Was that a good thing…? Or was Zam going to try to manipulate him? Try to trick him into owing a favor for saving his life?
Parrot was aware of how dangerous Zam really was. But he couldn’t bring himself to care right now. The blankets wrapped around him did muffle the flaring alarms in his head.
“Hm?” The macaw’s eyes, usually so sharp, struggled to focus on Zam’s face.
The player’s eyebrows shot up. Parrot found it funny how baffled he looked.
"...Seriously?" Zam scoffed, dragging his palms down his face. He let out a sharp, ragged breath that practically vibrated with impatience. "I’ve been trying to talk to you for two hours, dude. Are you even okay?”
‘Okay’? Parrot let out a loud, pained laugh that was completely devoid of humor before he wrapped his wings more tightly around himself like a shield. He sat up, the blanket slipping slightly. “You’re asking if I’m ‘okay’? Do I look ‘okay’ to you, Zam?” The words spilled out, louder and sharper than he intended, cracking slightly. “. I lost my kingdom, all of my friends are dead, and my people are hunting me down. No. I am not ‘okay’.”
…
Had he been too harsh? Parrot swallowed and stared at his hands, fingers twitching towards the spyglass in his hotbar that usually grounded him. He immediately felt bad for snapping at the player who just saved his life. What was wrong with him?
“Sorry.” Parrot murmured.
“...So, you lost your crown? To whom?” Zam’s voice was calmer, softer. Parrot didn’t look at his expression. He was looking at his own hands.
“Saparata.”
A beat of silence passed. While Zam was apparently shocked with the news, or so he thought, Parrot ripped his gaze from his hotbar and glanced around the foreign location he was in; a small cabin made out of spruce. The living room they were sitting in took most of the space on the first floor of the structure. Before them was a weak fireplace that provided enough warmth to keep them warm.
In the far left corner of the first floor, a small kitchen aisle looked completely out of place. Parrot stared at it for a moment, a faint, exhausted twitch of amusement tugged at his mouth. Of course. Zam used to be a king. Rulers are used to being taken care of, and the yellow dude clearly was still in the process of getting used to cooking his own meals. Parrot noticed as well a glass bottle filled with water and one bread laying casually on the counter besides the oven. Interesting things to keep around?
“To Saps?” Another huff came from Zam’s direction. “The Saparata? Are you sure?”
Parrot turned to face him. His lips were pressed in a thin, unimpressed line. He didn’t look amused, because he wasn’t. Fuck he means ‘are you sure?’.
“I think I would know who caused a civil war to overthrow me.”
“A civil war? What do you mean?”
The macaw stared at Zam’s expression. Was he…serious? Did he really not know what was happening in the server for the last, like, four months? It started with a chuckle–then it transformed into a disbelieving laugh that didn’t last much.
“What do you mean ‘what do you mean’?” Parrot smiled out of sheer disbelief. “You really have no idea about what has been happening lately?”
“Okay Parrot you are really freaking me out with those mood swings.”
Parrot let out a soft scoff and let his smile vanish. The rhythmic thrum in his head that had been muffled thanks to whatever Zam had given him was returning. Dammit he was right. Parrot was in unfamiliar territory with his own mind, which was confusing and terrifying at the same time. He was familiar with losing friends; the helplessness was nothing new. But even after those deaths, Parrot had something to fight for, to protect. Now, he had nothing. Not even Theo for sure. The server hated him, Wemmbu had turned against him, Flame was never the caring type, Spoke was…well, Spoke, and he just had nothing left.
He was exiled. He had to take the L and just…accept it. Perhaps he could build a new life here? No, scratch that. What was he thinking, living with PrinceZam? The guy was as unpredictable as Wemmbu, Parrot wasn’t taking the risk. Maybe he could re-open his potion shop at Capital Ci…ty. That place was completely blown up. He could try to find Spoke? But where was Spoke. Parrot hadn’t heard a word about his brother’s possible location. No word had been spoken regarding Spoke. Get it? Like, Spoke, the verb…
His eyelids had closed without him noticing. The heaviness on his limbs was back, just that this time it was three times stronger. Had Zam drugged him? No way. Parrot hadn’t eaten anything from here…or at least not that he remembered.
A sharp tug shook him awake from his micro-sleep. He winced as his feet were being half-dragged upwards through a staircase. The royal wool of his shirt was sticking to his back, drenched in sweat. Steady hands were tugging him along towards…the second floor of the cabin?
“You zoned out again.” Zam’s voice came as if he were yards away from him. Perhaps he was. Parrot couldn’t bring himself to care.
▀▄▀▄▀▄
Theo’s ability with carts was breath-taking.
Parrot hadn’t met a more skilled player than Theobald in his whole life. Of course he hadn’t admitted that in public, he didn’t want FlameFrags to set his wings on fire while he slept.
A dull ache settled in his chest, and an unbearable weight pressed against his lungs, and Parrot wasn’t sure why. His friend was here. He was the most loyal and determined person he had ever met, and Parrot admired that. Why did it feel so painful acknowledging this?
▀▄▀▄▀▄
A sickeningly sweet smell of apples slowly lulled him awake. Parrot laid on his side, hugging the pillow he was supposed to be using with his whole body. Mm…the warmth felt so good in the cold biome. His fingers reached out for a blanket that didn’t exist. A shiver ran down his spine as he tightened the grip on the pillow.
“...Zam careful with the pan.” Somewhere from the first floor a high pitched voice, Parrot could swear it was Zam’s attempt of imitation, came through. It was followed by a lower tone than Zam’s but still his. “He knows what he’s doing, genius.”
…was Zam talking to himself? Laughter bubbled up in his throat, but it came out as a weak, pathetic whimper. His shirt was soaked, the sheets underneath him sticking to his skin. The analytical part of his brain subconsciously came to a conclusion; shivers, cold sweating, delirium. Parrot had a fever, courtesy from sleeping inside a log in the middle of the snow.
Parrot spent a while tossing and turning on the king sized bed, falling in and out of sleep unevenly. At some point he crashed against a wall of pillows in the middle of the mattress.
He jumped in surprise when someone shook his shoulder awake.
“X2! Wakey wakey!”
The sheer intensity of the secondhand embarrassment Parrot got from Zam’s stupid tone was enough to wake him up. Parrot opened his eyes, his unfocused gaze landing on the yellow form.
“Hm.”
Zam shrugged his shoulders, his face a mask of detachment as he helped the macaw into a sitting position, while he himself was sitting on a chair beside the bed. Parrot huffed out a shaky breath and wrapped his wings around himself for the thousandth time.
“Why d-did you decide to help me, Zam?” He blurted out, his eyelids dropping shut for a second. He needed to know Zam’s true gain out of this. Even if Zam was doing this in exchange for a favor, whatever it was to get him out of this blank state that his mind was in would be better. Why would Zam help him for no reason? They had never been particularly close with each other. Unconditional kindness from a man who had literally sent the ClownPierce after him like a year ago in hopes to ban him off the server? Right. Why would he have a change of heart now? After he found Parrot weak and vulnerable and on the verge of death?
Zam’s motive couldn’t be innocent.
Parrot wasn’t expecting an answer. His body was about to give in to the sweet darkness of unconsciousness when the player spoke.
“Why would I leave you to die, then?” Zam questioned, the words coming out too quickly, a brittle edge to them that made Parrot’s weak instincts sit up. What a liar. There was more to that deflective answer than Zam was letting on.
Parrot opened his eyes again, staring at the spyglass on his hotbar.
“Why wouldn’t you? You don’t owe me anything. Not that I remember, at least.”
The half-breed siren tsk’ed his tongue, leaning backwards on his chair as his golden eyes darted around the room, almost purposefully avoiding Parrot’s. This only made the latter shift away from Zam slightly, the mattress dipping below him.
“You cleared my name after defeating Lettuce—”
“Zam.” Parrot cut him off. His tone had taken a slightly sharper edge, which surprised himself. “. I literally have nothing left to lose, dude. Tell me what you want from me and I’ll just do it.” He paused, then sighed softly and brought his sore knees against his chest. “. I do not enjoy being lied to and I know you know that.”
Parrot finally looked at Zam, though what he was greeted with didn’t make him feel any better; his shoulders had slumped down with the exact kind of defeat that Parrot had seen a thousand times in his own reflection. Zam’s expression was slightly wrinkled, as if he had eaten a very sour lemon, and he was purposefully letting the taste linger on his tongue.
The heavy silence that settled between them made Parrot’s chest tighten in an ugly, familiar way. Oh no. Was Zam going to task him to massacre innocent players? Was he secretly working for Cindercrest and was about to turn him in? Did he—
PrinceZam finally met Parrot’s gaze with the certainty of a man who has already chosen his destiny, and uttered the words that would shatter Parrot’s reality just a little more;
“Parrot, I want you to kill me.”