Chapter Text
He had run as fast as he could, flown out away from his castle.
Saparata had won.
Now Parrotx2 was a fugitive in the server he had sworn to protect, protect it from the very person who had taken the throne. He brought nothing but death and destruction wherever he went, whatever he cared for was inevitably destroyed or taken from him.
Parrot continued to fly, high above the clouds so he couldn't be spotted, making his way back to an old base, one he had long abandoned. He just needed a moment, just a singular moment to rest, to calm down.
How had things gotten so bad?
Soon enough he lands near a familiar dirt shack, an old thing, really. Parrot brushes his fingers along the chests, dust gathering on the edges. Not a second later, his knees buckled, as he slid down the wall, head in his hands. The tears were hot and heavy, the weight of everything finally crashing down.
He should have been better. A better friend, a better brother, a better king.
Parrot’s vision blurs, moments of the past flashing before him, he sees the familiar purple bandana running ahead of him, once more out of his reach. He reaches out, trying to grab it, but he knows, he knows he can never reach him again. Parrot is mournful, he could never be the person he had hoped for. All this pain, and suffering, for nothing, for people who would look the other way when he saved them, but call him weak and terrible. A deep unsettling feeling began to rise, bitter and nauseating.
Parrot ducked his head further into himself, gripping tight onto his arms, fingers clawing through his clothes, tearing his flesh. Blood soaked through the sleeves, the slight ache of his wounds oddly soothing. Maybe it would be better this way?
No.
Of course not.
He was better than this, Parrot was smarter.
Time and time again, he had proven it so, and time and time again, he was taken advantage of for it. He couldn’t understand if it was his own naivety that led him to this point or the wickedness of others. Parrot understood that he had been selfish at many times, from the moment of rejecting Wemmbu’s request for aid as well as denying Spoke of his concerns. He understood that much of it may have been his fault, but surely he had paid his dues by now, surely his mistakes did not warrant such harsh critiques and actions to the point that they call for his assasination. Parrot had tried so desperately to understand why, but there was no answer in sight. It all made him nauseous, yet the dull ache from his wrists was disgustingly soothing.
What would Wifies do?
He hadn’t thought of.. him, in a very long time. Maybe every so often, sometimes in utter guilt.
Yet during any time of duress, Parrot’s mind, his subconscious, had never thought of Theo immediately, but traitorously of Wifies, the man’s intelligence paralleled by no other.
In all his rights, and all his wrongs, dear lord, did Parrot miss Wifies, the way they lay in the grass to talk for endless hours, or how they managed to find themselves out of the trickiest of situations. Even after all this time, Parrot could never see Wifies as the director, his mind completely unable to process the two as the same but as distinct and different individuals.
Of course, it didn’t matter anymore. Wifies was dead, much like many of his other friends. And his brothers.. well they haven’t been on great terms for a while now, but he misses them, always.
Parrot thought back to the days where he used to cook for all of them, chaos surrounding the table each dinner, and how he patched up Wemmbu and Flame after every time. He saw the way regret lingered on each of them, maybe it was for what their family was or maybe it was something else. His heart grows heavier each time he thinks of them, why wouldn’t it, Parrot was never one of them. His mind wanders to each of them, from Spoke to Wemmbu to Flame, all of them skilled at fighting, strategising, surviving, and then there was him. His thoughts become bitter the more he lingers, because when he saw his brothers, his family, Parrot saw utter perfection, but when he saw himself, he saw all the things that went wrong.
He finally looked down at his reddening sleeves, the blood pooling at the floor slowly dripping, Parrot looked at it with indifference, a blank stare. Healing potions sat in his inventory, ready to be used, but he couldn’t find himself desiring to heal himself, the pain being the only comfort he felt in the moment. Slightly pinching at the cloth, red stained his fingers, but the hybrid felt nothing, numb even. Parrot wasn’t meant to be, it was the only logical conclusion he could draw.
Bile rose up his throat, a hand clawed at the wall, while the other clutched at his heart, the bitter feeling settling in his heart. A cruel thought passed, and then another, it was surreal, it was.. brilliant. As his heart slowed, and his body no longer trembled, a cold calm took over Parrot, eyes dimmed.
Gripping at the yin and yang necklace, Parrot had made a decision.
If the people of the server were so incredibly insistent for him to become a villain, to be cruel, maybe, just this once, he might be inclined to prove them right.
There were many things to set in order, to ensure a perfect execution, fortunately, all the necessary preparations lay in his ender chest, ready to be used.
It was a backup plan, a precaution he had made for the war. How well that turned out, he vaguely thought to himself, as he stretched out his wings. Not an elytra but his wings, his greatest pride, and his most hidden secret. Parrot spread them wide, a hesitant flap that lifted him off his feet, before he flew off into the clouds. The pulsating amethyst bracelet ignored deep in his chests.
The skies were his greatest friend, and he would make terrific use of them, that was a promise.
The immortal demon ran through the terrain of the tundra forests, breath heavy and panicked. He had lost cindercrest’s soldiers for the most part, the last few he had killed himself. Flame had never been more terrified in his life, not because of the pests Saparata had sent after him, of course not, Cindercrest’s soldiers were weak against him, no, no, it was because Lomedy had been captured, dragged away screaming with Parrot’s friends.
He closes his eyes, painfully, his mind unhelpfully flashing to their horrified, stubborn, desperate expressions, how all of them had unanimously yelled out to him to run, to gather resources, to do something. Flame did many things, but listening was not one of them, but Lomedy was his best friend, the sole exception to many of his rules. His heart throbbed heavily in fear, unable to imagine what they would do to him. The other two would be in a similar position, if not worse for their direct association with Parrot.
Speaking of… Parrot was missing.
Flame had frantically messaged him on his communicator as he had ran and fought, but to no avail. There was no response, not even throughout their shared amethyst, the same one he was planning to throw away. Yet, he now grips the bracelet guiltily, praying to the gods above, that Parrot be ok. He hoped that the communicator was just broken, and that his.. brother was fine, that there was nothing to be worried about, but Flame knew better.
Parrot, he had always been a thinker, his mind the most brilliant out of the four of them. He remembers, painfully so, how sensitive Parrot was to change, how he bore the weight of responsibility alone, refusing help. He had watched Parrot spiral, the mad look in his eyes burned into his memories, but Flame was young, brushing it off as his brother finally growing a backbone, finally becoming someone worthy.
How wrong he had been.
After that day, Parrot always wore a tight smile, genuine it was, but restrained, as if he was holding himself back. That smile never changed, not till the day they arrived in Unstable, till he met that purple bandanna boy.
Then they drifted apart, or at least that was what he wished it was.
Parrot had tried to keep them all in contact in the beginning, something about family sticking together, but none of them had listened, each of them walking away,
Flame loved Parrot, the same Parrot who stayed up late when he was sick, temperatures running high, the Parrot who patched him up after every fight, both on Unstable lands and during their childhood. Flame loved his brother, regret lingering for days on end. He remembers the look on the bird hybrid’s face when the immortal demon showed up on Cindercrest’s ships, he saw the latter’s eyes, how they shook with betrayal before hardening into something deeper, something indifferent.
He had to find Parrot, his regret finally building up to something unbearable. Flame had always been selfish, first for Lomedy, now for Parrot. Maybe he wanted to help out of guilt, or maybe he just wanted his big brother back.
- - - -
”HEY”
A parrot hybrid laughed at his blazing brother, flames having singed the edges of the others clothes, faint bruises and cuts fresh on his arms and legs.
”Come here, you.”
The hybrid pulled the shorter boy towards him, bandaging the small injuries, as the little boy pouted, tears slightly falling.
The boy looked up at the hybrid, eyes big, ‘Do you promise never to leave?’
The hybrid grinned wide, a pinky held up in front of the former, ‘Pinky promise.’
- - - -
There’s faint rustling, footsteps running towards him, Flame wastes no time hiding in the trees. He’s calling Wemmbu, Spoke, again and again, neither picking up, he’s desperate because he’s terrified, he knows something is wrong with Parrot, that he’s in trouble. No one is answering, he messages them frantically, the voidling nor the purple demon hybrid still not responding. Flame’s hands were trembling, unease crawling up his spine.
Something was very wrong.
Then he hears it.
Faint sounds echoing in the background, loud and repetitive, and all coming from the same direction.
Parrot’s castle.
Flame hastily spawned in his elytra, soaring towards the castle grounds, eyes closing in wishful thinking.
But the sound of TNT was unmistakable.
He continued to fly, the castle grounds within sight. The demon’s heart sank, the scene before him truly daunting, as the castle was no more. Death after death rang out on his communicator, the explosions still ongoing. His hands clenched tightly, shaking, as he landed on some rubble. The castle that once stood tall was nothing put floating chunks and massive craters. He tried to calling out for Parrot, running through the rubble, freeing player after player from the debris as he went, but there was no sign of the bird hybrid.
The one final death message rang out on his communicator.
[Saparata hit the ground too hard while trying to escape RTS QIAIWPV]