Chapter Text
Pillager outposts are convenient, Derek thinks.
They are a cove of resources, from food to weaponry and enchanted books that he can sell to the next village if he gets lucky. They work as a good place to stay in the night, away from hostile mobs and the weather, and the Illagers are easy to deal with.
He checks his resources. He’s got a few sweet berries left, his tools are all half broken, and he doesn’t want to risk breaking his axe while cutting down a tree for wood.
Truly an amazing find.
He sits down behind a bush, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Three Illagers stand near the tents towards the birch forest. Two are at the watchtower, two more near a cage on the right. Inside, a patch of blue covers the wood at the bottom—
They're Allays.
All unmoving.
This is strange. Allays are bouncy creatures, always fluttering near the bars and waiting for travelers to give them a purpose. It’s not the first time he’s saved some from Illagers, but these ones look… off. Their magic is weak, too.
If he doesn’t act, it might be too late.
What does he have that he can use? Two splash potions of slowness, a half broken bow and four arrows. Hm. Not enough to take out all the Illagers, but he can hit the others with his sword.
He prowls to the next bush, nearer now. The three at the tents walk to the two over at the watchtower. He grabs a potion and throws it at their feet.
The glass shatters in a thin fog of gray blue. The Illagers snap their heads around and let out a grunt. They struggle to grab their weapons and move around, which is what Derek desired. He takes the moment to run to the side between bushes, draw his bow and hit one Illager at the cages. It falls on the grass with a soft thump.
His companion gasps and takes out a crossbow. Derek waits until the last second to move between space and teleport on top of the cage, bow tense with another arrow. The second Illager falls.
The five he slowed down approach the cage with three crossbows pointed at him. He avoids two arrows by teleporting, but doesn’t see the third. The arrow pierces his left arm, tip still buried deep inside. He groans, but jumps down from the cage to avoid another set of arrows.
He throws another splash potion, removes the arrow from his arm and uses it to hit one of the long-ranged Illagers. He teleports behind an Illager with an axe and slashes him.
Taken aback, the second axe-wielder Illager takes a step back and Derek moves to align himself to the aim of a crossbow wielder. The Illager is hit by an arrow through his heart.
The last two Illagers standing are dealt with a swing of the sword and another arrow.
Derek sits on the grass, catching his breath. The wound on his arm is superficial, it will heal on its own. He bandages himself to the best of his abilities, munches on a berry, and gets up to check the cage.
The three Allays look awful. The light of two of them is spent, their eyes open in a vacant stare that sends a shiver through Derek’s spine. The third one lies by the side, slightly taller than the average Allay and brighter, but its eyes are close and doesn’t move.
He lingers at the door, eyes moving between the Allay and the chests of loot waiting for him. There’s nothing he can do, but leaving the creature to its death would be cruel.
He picks it up with both hands. If it doesn’t have long to live, it deserves to pass away somewhere else than in a cage.
Derek walks to one the tents with a nice view of the river and the plains beyond. The sun colors the world orange, casting shadows that elongate in the opposite direction. He holds the Allay like cradling a baby, so that his face, even if unconscious, can bathe in the light of another gone day.
The tiny creature shifts in his arm. It opens its eyes, each movement a shudder of pain. Derek holds it still, his eyes returning to the sun that sinks lower in the horizon.
“Hi…”
The Allay speaks.
Derek looks down, his eyes widening. It has a soft, thrilling voice, and it’s hoarse.
“You can speak?”
The magic of the Allay is still fading, but it laughs and nods. It gives a look at the sunset turning to dusk, and returns his gaze on him.
“I need—magic. More.” It grabs the cloth of his mantle and pulls. “I don’t—want to die. Please.”
Derek exhales. He nods.
Okay, magic. He needs magic as soon as possible.
He looks around. Flowers, grass, trees—nothing that can potentially help.
He runs and teleports closer to the watchtower. Purple dust dances around him and in his eyes before disappearing.
It suddenly clicks.
He has got magic in him!
“I have magic.” He whispers. “What should I do?”
The Allay offers its hand, palm in front. Its eyes are emptier, its focus not holding Derek’s as long.
He touches the hand with his index finger.
The contact burns. Derek feels his entire body catching fire from the inside, his shoulders shaking from the pain. He tightens the hold on the Allay with one hand and the magic contact with the other. Even walking feels like stepping on dripstones.
He leans on the wall outside and lets himself sink down. He can’t breathe, his vision blurs.
He hears the Allay’s voice, words too garbled to catch them before closing his eyes to the darkness.
He wakes up in the grass, the stars above his head and the Allay sitting next to him. It shines like a blue lantern in the dark, so much that he has to close his eyes again.
“You really are silly for being an Enderman.” It teases with a complacent smile. “You didn’t have to risk dying for me, you know.”
Derek massages his temples and sits up. His body doesn’t hurt anymore, but his head feels fuzzy. “What happened?”
The Allay stares with its hands on its hips. “You tried to give me all of your magic! What were you thinking?” It shakes its head. “I didn’t want to have you on my conscience, so I broke our magic connection as soon as I felt better.”
He remembers now. It felt awful. “Sorry. I’ve never done such a thing before.”
“I know, it’s mostly an Allay thing.” The Allay takes flight and hovers around his eye level.
It flies in circles around him. Derek pulls a hand on his head. Still wearing his helmet, good.
“Are you okay now?”
“My neck hurts, but I feel fine. A bit tired still.” Derek moves his head in circles, a hand to hold his neck.
The Allay giggles. “I mean… you slept with your helmet on.” A smile forms on its lips, and its cheeks darken to a deep blue. “Thank you for saving me. I really owe you big now.”
Derek stares. The Allay shines brighter than before, a mix of blue and white from his skin and eyes. It has a cute smile, he decides, but it’s too much to bear all at once.
He averts his gaze. “I’m just glad I could help.”
“Just one thing.” Its shoulders tense, its arms go behind its back. “I still needed magic, so… I sucked some of it from one of your enchanted books. You could have used those instead of your own magic!”
Oh. He had forgotten about them, panic and all.
“It’s okay. Which one did you take?”
“Hmm… I think it said ‘Mending’.”
“Mending.”
The Allay tilts its head. “Yeah? I’m pretty sure I can read common script well… wait, maybe I was wrong…?”
Derek covers the rest of his face with his hands. Among all the books he could lose, why did it have to be MENDING? He had been saving it for a diamond pickaxe, as he hadn’t dared to dig deeper in the caves yet.
“Um…” The Allay flutters close. “Are you okay?”
“… Yeah.” He takes a deep breath.
It’s all good, he may be lucky again and find another book. They are not that impossible to find. The Allay clearly needed it more than he.
He gets up and removes the dust from his cloak. The outpost is bright enough to keep mobs away, but Derek turns the lantern on his belt on anyway. He steps inside the watchtower and eyes a chest in the corner.
“You still haven’t told me your name!” The Allay follows him inside. “Unless you don’t have one like me? Being an Enderman and all.”
Derek opens the chest and rummages inside. Wood, good. Iron, pretty good. “I go by Derek. It helps with trading and passing off as a human without raising suspicions.”
He makes to get the bundle at his belt, but it’s not there.
He turns to the Allay, who’s holding it like it could fall from its hands any time.
“Why do you have my bundle?”
“It fell when you fainted, and I like it, so now it’s mine!” The Allay grins and makes a twirl, its ‘hair’ bouncing against its face.
Derek sighs and gets closer. The Allay flies up to the ceiling and laughs. “Nope, You’re not getting it!”
“I need that to store these.” He shows the iron and the wood.
It shakes its head. “Nuh-uh, you can put those in your inventory!”
What a stubborn Allay. Derek crosses his arms, deep in thought.
It said it had no name. So what if he gave him one? It could be an equivalent exchange, a name for his bundle.
There are plenty of names he can choose from, he’s learned a lot ever since he came to the Overworld. He needs one that is unique and can identify the Allay—
Yes, he got it.
He clears his throat. “Allery. I need the bundle.”
The Allay gasps, stopping midair. “What was that?”
Derek curves his lips ever so slightly, amused. “Your name. You said you didn’t have one, so I picked a human name and combined it with ‘Allay’.”
He grins at his own pun. Avery, a name that could also mean ‘elf’ and ‘Allay’.
It fits with his image of ‘elf’. In the books he’s read at different villages, the typical ‘elf’ has pointy ears. Allery happens to have a pair that juts out the sides of his face.
“Should I call you ‘Allay’?” He teases.
“No!” Allery shakes his head. “I like it.” He floats lower at his level, bundle pushed open.
“Can I carry it for you?”
Derek stores the items and muses over Allery’s words. He already knows his answer, but seeing Allery holding his breath as he waits is engaging. “Only if you don’t stray too far from me.”
Allery’s face beams. “I won’t!”
They climb the stairs of the watchtower, stopping at each floor to loot the chests. Derek finds no books that can help him, but acquires a crossbow and more arrows. They will come in handy if he has to engage in more combat. On the last floor, he finds some potatoes and wheat.
He makes a gesture for Allery to come over with the bundle. He places the wheat and some potatoes inside, while leaving one as his dinner for the day.
“Are you hungry?”
Allery closes the bundle with a loose knot. “I don’t need to eat, so you can have all the food you want!”
“—But I won’t say no.” He adds, blush visible on his face.
Derek nods and bites down on the potato. “There should be a berry in the bundle. You can have that one.”
Allery’s face brightens and flops on the floor.
He picks the berry and takes a bite. “Mph. They taste… I don’t know what taste this is.”
An amused smile forms on Derek’s face. “Do you find it bad?”
Allery cleans his mouth with the palm of his hand. “No! No, they are… pretty good! I love berries, yeah, definitely.” He takes another bite.
“That’s good.”
Derek sits down. He takes one last bite of his potato and looks at Allery, waiting for him to finish his berry.
The sight of an Allay eating—if Allery is truly one, at this point—is novel to him. It’s not much different from how a humanoid eats. Actually, everything about Allery strikes him as odd. He’s the first sentient Allay he’s met in all his travels, capable of speech and with a bright personality. He doesn’t really get why Allery obsessed with his bundle. Maybe it’s an Allay trait?
“What?”
Derek blinks. “What?”, he repeats.
“You were staring at me… it’s creepy.” Allery smiles at his last word.
“I was thinking. Thinking that you are different from other Allays. Are there others like you?”
Allery swallows another bite. “Like me? Not that I know of! I’ve been the only one…” He gestures at himself. “… Like this.”
Derek rests his head on his fist. “All the Allays I’ve met in the past were curious and passive creatures, but none would speak to me or have opinions like you do.”
“I’m aware.” The berry disappears in Allery’s mouth and he gets up with the bundle back in his hands.
“Then I suppose the other two Allays in the cage with you weren’t as sentient.” The memory of those empty, soulless eyes still haunts him.
Allery’s cheerful expression disappears. He frowns. “Are—are they still there?”
Derek nods. “They didn’t survive.”
Allery doesn’t respond, but flies towards the stairs.
“Allery?”
Derek follows him. He’ll check the watchtower again in the morning.
Allery flies in silence, the bundle cuddled closer to his body. They stop at the cage, and Allery lowers until his feet touch the grass.
“I killed them.”
Derek blinks. “You what?”
“I killed them. To survive.” Allery takes a deep breath and exhales. “I was already weak when the Illagers took me and—” He lowers his head, burying it in the cloth. “I was dying. I didn’t want to die, so…”
“You took their magic?”
Allery nods weakly. “It was the only way… it was me or them. I was—” He chokes on his own sob. “I was so scared.”
Derek walks next to him. Allery’s cries are louder, his shoulders bobbing up and down.
“They—They didn’t do anything. I—I don’t know why. They let me—and I—”
“Allery.”
His hand hovers over Allery’s head, gently, pushing enough for a pat. Would it help him, soothe him? His mother used to do the same when Derek was sad, and he would feel better shortly after.
“You are alive. That’s what matters.”
Allery raises his head towards him. He leans to the touch.
“I’m alive because—”
“Because I saved you. Good thing I was around, hm?” Derek gives him a smile. “When a human dies, they make a ‘funeral’. They honor the dead and bury them in the earth to connect them back to nature. We can do that, if you want. It might give you closure.”
Allery doesn’t reply.
“Unless,” Derek massages his neck. “Allays have proper burial procedures.”
Allery wipes his tears and shakes his head. “N-no, I don’t know, actually. I don’t think so…” He puts the bundle down and flies over one of the corpses. “I want to try the bury thing.”
They each pick an Allay. Allery holds the body with both arms, head hidden in his chest.
Derek stops at the river bed and puts the body down. “You look a lot stronger than your appearance suggests.” He picks his shovel and pulls the first patch of dirt from the ground.
Allery shrugs. “I just use magic to help myself when I need it.” He lies the Allay next to the other and watches Derek over his shoulder.
“Do you think…” His voice gets smaller. “That they were scared, like I was?”
“Did they ever speak to you?”
“It was not really speech. I could understand their mood through magic, but they didn’t spell words.” Allery glances over at the two Allays. “They seemed happy, but I don’t think they really understood what was happening. Maybe that’s why they didn’t stop me… I hope for them it is so.”
Derek gives one final push to the shovel, pulls the dirt up and throws it at the pile next to him. “All the other Allays I’ve saved and met didn’t even know what I was trying to say. Maybe they’re just condensed magic becoming physical.” He sticks the shovel deep in the ground. “This should be enough.”
They place the Allays inside the hole. Allery hovers over them and gives each of them a kiss on the forehead.
“Thank you for your life.” He whispers and gives an approval nod to Derek, who covers the hole back again.
He rubs his hands together to remove the dirt. “I will make a fence and a sign tomorrow.”
“What for?”
“For a cross. The villagers do it for their graveyards. They also leave flowers as an offering.”
“Flowers, huh…”
They walk back to the tent. The moon shines above them, still far from the highest peak of the night. Moans and rattles of mobs come from beyond the birch forest, filling the silence. So far, the outpost is holding out well.
Allery holds Derek’s bundle closer to his chest, sometimes rubbing his head against it. Does he like it that much? Maybe Derek should get one just for him. A light blue, perhaps.
Wait. He’s talking like Allery is going to stay with him. He wouldn’t mind, he’s been traveling alone this entire time and companionship is… pretty nice, with the right person. But he wouldn’t ask him to stay. He must have some place, a family too? He wouldn’t dare ask. It’s not in his right to pry, despite his curiosity.
He enters the tent and unfolds the sleeping bag, although his plan is not to sleep until later. With Allery’s presence, he has to keep watch for two.
He looks over at him. He’s still cuddling the bundle, eyes unfocused.
“You should get some rest.”
“Hm?” Allery looks up. “Allays don’t sleep. Shouldn’t you get to bed?”
Derek checks over his arm. It’s sore from all the force he put to dig the grave. “I was thinking of keeping watch, there are mobs in the forest.”
“I can do that. I’ll scream if a mob tries to eat you!”
Derek laughs low, hand covering his mouth. “I’m counting on that. I’m a light sleeper, I’ll be able to hear you.”
He unclasps his cloak and lays it next to him. He moves to the belts of the cuirass, the pauldrons and the right gauntlet, taking his own time like it’s a sacred ritual to be respected. In a way, it is. He always feels better and lighter when he removes his armor, shredding a mask that is not truly his.
From the corner of his vision, he notices Allery staring at him, eyes wider than his usual. Good thing he’s still wearing his helmet, it hides the sudden purple tint of his cheeks.
“Something wrong?”
Allery snaps his head away, his gaze falling on the grass. “Uh… no, nothing.” He flies closer and sits at the opposite side of the pillow.
Derek removes his helmet, placing it in the other free spot next to the pillow. He turns to the side, back facing Allery and closes his eyes.
A yawn escapes him. “Good night, Allery.”
“‘Night.”
The next morning, Derek finds Allery at the grave. Colorful flowers decorate the dirt, each plucked and placed in a circle. He recognizes some poppies and forget-me-nots.
He can't see Allery’s expression from his position, although he can make an estimate from how erratic his breath is and how his shoulders raise and fall too fast.
Better leave him alone for some more time.
He walks over a crafting table at one of the tents. He makes a fence with a sign, some more sticks, and a quarter stack of torches. His stomach grumbles as he finishes the job.
He checks the chest inside the tent. There’s no Mending book, but he finds a Quick Charge he can enchant the crossbow with.
By the time he’s finished checking all the tents, his inventory is packed with resources and loot he can sell. Since outposts are never too far from a village, he should find one not too far from his current position.
Time to check on Allery.
He finds him at the grave still, his breathing back to normal.
“Good morning.” He sits next to him, fence and sign in one hand. “You picked some flowers while I was asleep? They’re pretty.”
“‘Morning.” Allery nods, his stare fixed on the grave. “There were no mobs nearby last night, so I didn’t wake you up.”
“Mhm. You did a pretty good job at keeping watch.”
A smile forms on Allery. Derek smiles as well.
“Do you feel better?”
Allery tilts his head, like he’s considering his words. Derek is not surprised, it has no simple answers. “I don’t know. I still feel sad, but… I am relieved that they are not in that ugly cage anymore.”
Derek nods in understanding. “I have the cross,” He shows the woodwork. “I can plant it anytime.”
“I-I don’t mind if you do it now.”
Derek gets up and plants the cross at the edge of the river bed, leaving a space between the water and the patch of dirt. He moves the wood and takes a step back when it’s secured enough in the ground.
“We can also write something on the sign, I have a quill in the bundle.”
Allery shakes his head and gets up, bundle back in his hands. “No, this is perfect.”
They make a few steps when Derek’s stomach rumbles louder.
Allery stares at him, smile tugging his lips. “What was that???”
“… I haven’t had breakfast yet.” Derek covers what little face is visible from the helmet. “I should make myself something quick.”
Allery’s laugh turns into genuine laughter.
“Check here?” He offers the bundle.
Derek takes his time to arrange some items, store what he has in his inventory, and bring out the wheat from last night. “I’ll make bread today. Do you want some?”
“Can’t we pick more berries?”
“We are not in the right biome for those. If we find a village, we may be able to purchase some.”
“Aw…”
Derek heads back to the crafting table, Allery next to him like a knight’s squire. He prepares the wheat with quick but deliberate gestures and bakes the dough in the furnace.
The result is a circular, golden colored bread that is softer than it looks. He splits a smaller piece and offers it to Allery.
“Try it?”
Allery looks at Derek and back to the piece of bread. He grabs it like he’s holding some manure gone bad and takes a bite.
He swallows it, but his face remains twisted in pain. “I really prefer the berries.”
Derek chews on his own piece. “It’s not too bad? I’m not a great cook, but I think it’s edible.”
“No, it’s not that…” Allery sighs. “It looked yellow and I hate yellow. And I do prefer the berries’ sweetness the most.”
Derek shrugs, accepting the response. He doesn’t mind the color, but it’s not his favorite either. Still, he can’t help but think Allery’s reaction is over the top. He has strong opinions about some color.
With breakfast done, they climb up the watchtower again, up to the roof.
Derek stops and takes in the view.
The birch forest stretches towards the horizon, cut twice by two rivers converging and forming a lake. The fields extend beyond what Derek can see, hills and mountains sheltering the sides with their peaks covered in snow. To the opposite side, the swamp Derek has come from is still full of frogs and slimes hopping around. He can make out the witch’s hut he had looted a couple days before.
The sun has risen above the horizon, bathing everything in bright colors of blues and greens dipped in warm yellow. Sun rays touch him like his mother’s warm embrace.
Derek would never tire of it. The Overworld is breathtaking.
“Wow…” He hears Allery exhale next to him. “I’ve never thought of flying up high to look at the world. I should do it more often!”
“Lucky.” Derek smiles, heart still beating faster. He lingers on an intersection between a mountain and a plot of land sinking lower behind it. He squints his eyes, but can’t make out enough details.
He spreads a hand towards Allery, not looking at him. “Allery, bundle.”
Derek feels the cloth against his fingers, digs inside and pulls out a spyglass. He brings the lens to his eye and adjusts the zoom.
There’s a village in the valley. It’s hard to make out because of the mountain covering the sinkhole, but he spots the huff of smoke from a chimney and dark, sloped roofs.
“There’s a village over there.” He points far into the distance. “I better get going or I won’t make it before dark.”
“Isn’t it a bit too far?”
Derek smirks. “Not if I teleport. Enderman privileges.”
“Oh right, you Endermen can do that!”
Derek’s pace quickens as he descends to the lower floor, Allery still close behind. It’s time to leave the outpost for good.
“Um, Der?”
He turns at him. The sudden nickname knots his throat.
“Can I come with you?”
Derek blinks twice. His mouth stays half open for a few seconds before his reply. “You don’t have to come with me just because I saved you—”
“No, I know.” Allery’s grip on the bundle tightens. “I actually have nowhere to go. I used to live in a forest but it’s pretty far from here so—” He breathes. “I want to see the world too?”
His voice becomes smaller. “Please?”
Derek’s heart skips a beat. The sight is too overwhelming for him and he turns away, settling on a group of horses in the far distance of the fields. He doesn’t reply right away. It may make him sound too eager to have company.
It had been a passing thought, the one from the night before, but hadn’t expected Allery to propose it himself. Derek had been stalling the inevitable, resigned to travel alone once more. It was no bother at first, when the concept of traveling the Overworld was still new to him. Not anymore, though.
There is a reason he has never taken an Allay with him, no matter how they could be considered companions. They wouldn’t understand him, talk to him, or accept that he is an Enderman who means no harm.
He lays his armored hand on the railing and grips hard, waiting for his breath to settle.
“Only if you really want to.” His tone comes flatter than he’d like to be.
Still, Allery lets out a cry of joy.
“Thank you Der thank you Der thank you Der—” He flies in circles around Derek, repeating those same words until Allery chokes on his name.
Derek smiles and lets his hand fall back at his side.
“What are we waiting for?” Allery swoops to the stairs. “We should get a move on!”
“I think I am faster than you with my teleporting powers.”
Allery raises an eyebrow, his smile turning smug. “Oh yeah? Wanna try?”
Derek has no time to reply that Allery dashes downstairs.
He shakes his head, smile widening, and follows him with short bursts of teleportation.
He thinks his travels will only become more enjoyable from now on.