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Chapter Text

A thin hand is placed over the runes. It ghosts across wisps of tainted hair; strips of tattered fabric; strings of a lost necklace. They clutter the circle drawn out across the stone, a faint orange light responding to the touch of the kitsune.

Lying stands, tails curled tightly behind them so as not to disturb the intricate placements of their foci. It was complete, finally, after months of planning. They’d not exactly had the blessings of their fellow demigods. Kirin had been, to say the least, unimpressed. Lying, however, was nothing but stubborn.

They’d wanted a little world to themself for a while. Nothing big: a meagre expanse of land, rich with resources and life. The ruling equivalent of a summer home, really, and they even had the perfect guest list.

Their grin is vulpine, sharp teeth behind red lips, and with outstretched hands the circle blooms into colour.

Week 1 - A Cornerstone.

The world spluttered to life around them. A circular column of stone marked the origin, a cropped monolith in Lying’s new world. Forests grow; islands rise; water begins to flow. They watch from above as a fresh wind gusts across the budding grass.

Benji coughs, a wracking noise that shocks his body upright. His hands are cold in the dirt, and the breeze is bracing. There’s a warmth in his chest, though, and he takes his first glance. Strippin is stirring groggily to his side, and up across the field he spies a collection of bodies. He recognises a few, and ponders quietly the few others.

Lalna’s eyes open to a wide, blue sky. The sun burns gently in the east, early morning, and he sits up with a grunt. Nano does similar, pinning her hair out of the way as it catches on the wind. It’s warm in the sunlight, and he barely blinks as he watches Smiffy stand up a few feet away.

The slime brushes the dirt from his dress trousers, frowning at the marks on his shoes.
“What the fuck?” He states plainly, kicking a pebble towards Trott, “This isn’t home. You’ piss on the waystone again, Ross?”
Ross groans, swiping at Smiffy’s leg, and rolls over onto his front.
“Did the old world get wiped or something?” Lalna supposes, helping Nano to her feet. Strippin shrugs, leaning on Benji as they cross the field to join them near the stone circle.

“If it did, I blame you,” Sjin jabs a finger towards Lalna, “That bloody flux core of yours.”
“And you’re so innocent?” Ross retorts, shouldering between them, “Bet you and Xephos were doing some kinky shit under that-”
Someone clears their throat, as loud as it seems he can manage. All eyes turn to Rythian, half-sat on the stone.
“You’re all being ridiculous.”

Wind whistles across the tablet, catching grit and dust to sparkle in the early morning sun. None of them speak for a moment, replaying their past few hours over and over. There’s no explosions, no distant sounds of panic. No warmth, or bitter cold. They’re simply here, with no inbetween, and that realisation carries a weight of concern.
Sjin opens his arms out, as if to start speaking. He’s halted, almost instantly, by a spiral of leaves and the appearance of a kitsune. Lying pads to the floor, bright orange magic trailing at their paws, and they sit daintily next to Rythian. He recoils, staggering away to stand beside Sjin.
“Good mornin’,” They start, delivery calm and level, “Take a moment to adjust. A new world is always a tad confusin’.”
They float upwards, paws on the table, “It’s been a long year folks. With you lot and your silly little games on the main world. I thought I’d give us all a little break.”
“What?” Trott asks, mouth quirked in bafflement.
Lying tuts, gesturing to them all in a wide sweep of their arms, “You’re always fighting! Thought you could do with a little, er, home away from home. Loosen up, make friends, fix some grudges.”
Lalna squints, glancing across the group, “So you got the worst possible group for that? Us and those three? Sjin and Rythian?”
“Well that’s the point, isn’t it,” Lying scoffs, appearing in a small flash behind Rythian, a pale hand across his shoulder, “Think of it as a little game! Kiss and make up, all that.”
Rythian shakes his shoulders, dislodging their grip, “You want us to work together?”
They smile, slightly too wide, “Well, preferably. Yes.”
“You’re an idiot, then.”
Lying snorts, brushing past him with their tails, “Maybe! But think how fun it will be, Enderborn. For me.”
They mount the table again, bowing in a circle to the nine.
“Tata!” They say, before twirling back into an orange glow, vaguely fox-shaped, that gusts away into nothing.

There’s a puzzled moment of silence. Glances are made, narrowed eyes and quiet snarls. Sjin resumes his original plan, striding up to the table. He makes to stand on it, before realising it’s just a bit too tall to do so gracefully. Nano snickers at him.
“Before we devolve into a comedic cloud of scuffles, maybe we give this a shot? It’s not like we’re going anywhere. You’ll get some punches in and then respawn and, what, do it all over again?”
Trott folds his arms with a hmph, “Ruin the fun, why dontcha.”
“Gladly,” Sjin raises his hands, “Let's get started then! We’ll divvy up into our normal groups for now, get some resources so we’re not sleeping in the dirt.”

Rythian frowns, staring off towards the west.
“Or the rain,” he gestures to the bruising clouds gathering far in the distance.
“Or the rain,” Sjin nods, “Alright! You three, base materials. Lalna, you and Nano get started with coal- Strippin, too. I’ll get food and wool.”
“Any choice in that?” Strippin huffs, head cocked.
“Absolutely not, I’m the Mayor now. I’ve decided that, “Sjin sneers, “Feel free to go live in the dirt though!”
Strippin goes to protest further, fist balled, but Benji drags him away towards a hill that swells a short hike away. Nano and Lalna follow, laughing between themselves. Trott, Ross and Smiffy start towards a forest, pointing towards a floating island in the near distance. Sjin surveys the plains, and starts heading to a sparser patch of woodland. He passes Rythian, tugging on his sleeve to drag him along. He sighs, but follows.
“You seem a bit on-edge, Rythian.”
He chuckles lowly, nodding, “Aren’t you?”
“Of course, new worlds are always a pain. Can’t wait for us to get back and Lalna’s built a whole factory. I miss jetpacks.”
They crest a small hill, looking down into a flooded clearing. Sheep bleat at the water's edge, and the rising wind draws them down into the mud.
“We’re getting wool, right? Or meat?” Rythian studies the makeshift blade that Sjin pushes into his hands, getting a nod in response, “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“What, you squeamish all of a sudden? We’re getting both.”

Sjin presses ahead, leaning up against a fallen tree. He eyes up the flock further down the riverbank, pausing when he realises Rythian hasn’t followed.
“Mate?”
“Don’t- Why’d you pick me?”
“What?”
Rythian faces away, staring up at the encroaching clouds, fingering the blade in his hands.
“We’re not friends, Sjin. You know that.”
Sjin takes a deep breath, pulling away from the tree.
“It was just us two left, idiot,” he pats at Rythian’s shoulder, surprised when he doesn’t baulk away, “Could use your eye for this. I know I’m a farmer, but you of all people know I’m not a killer.”

Rythian hears the diffusion, and exhales through his nose.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” Sjin glances back at the flock, “But it’s not time for that, is it?”
“Fine,” Rythian tugs his hood up and brandishes the shoddy knife, “Fine.”

Any sensible man would’ve sought cover when the rain started. Luckily for their scattered companions, the HAT three are not sensible men. Trott revels in the downpour, shaking out his fur every so often, and continues to fasten together planks of wood.
It’s shoddy, something they’re all rather used to after a number of restarts. Foundations are driven into squelching soil, a frail rope ladder tethering their small construction to the ground far below. The island was a small beacon of safety floating above the dense forest, and Smiffy feels right at home on the bouncy dirt.
The ‘house’ is a single room, enough space for nine beds packed together, and a small divider the slime had thrown together for anyone who needed privacy. The base is stone, a mixture of marble and rock, held together with tightly bound wooden stakes. The three of them sit against the far wall, watching the (currently doorless) doorway, as they roped together sections of roofing.

Lalna braces himself, grimacing up at the rope ladder as it twists in the wind. It’s only Nano behind him, arms crossed and face marked with faux disappointment, that has him start the ascent. He crawls over the edge, shoulders shaking, and speeds towards the structure- their home, he supposes.
He whistles, shaking out the nerves of the climb, “Nice start.”
Trott paws at his face like he’s blushing, “Aw gee, thanks. Wanna make yourself useful?”
Nano drops the sack of coal and ore onto the floor, watching it spill out with a thud, “We’ve been plenty useful, actually.”
“Do you want a roof by nightfall?” Ross chimes, passing her a spare mallet as she scowls, “Don’t bugger it up.”
Lalna takes a hammer, joining Smiffy atop the wall, “Was there thunder earlier? We heard something rumble underground.”
“Oh yeah,” Smiffy gestures skywards, “Lightning and everything. We’re tossed when that hits.”
“What if it hits the building?”
“We’ll put out the fire, and go back to sleep. What d’ya think?”
Lalna chews at his lip, “I meant more like, y’know-” he glances around the bones of the roof, “While we’re up here? I don’t think we should risk it.”
“You? Not taking risks?” Smiffy cups his mouth, leaning past Lalna to shout down, “Nano! What did you do to him!?”
She looks unimpressed, hefting a finished section over her shoulder.
“You know boys, I’m amazed you actually did your jobs.”
“Who do you take us for?” Ross snaps, around a nail held in his teeth.
“Oh, hmm,” She hums, counting on her fingers, “Stingy. Refuses to work with others unless it benefits you. Cheats-”
“Alright, alright,” Trott snickers, “Well, this does benefit us. So, stick it.”

Ross lifts the section from Nano’s shoulder, placing it on his own with little effort. He grins at her, sharp teeth poking outwards, and carries them up to Lalna and Smiffy.
Strippin and Benji return not long later, inventories full of stone and ore, and it’s stashed alongside the rest. The resources are shunted towards one wall as the roof progresses, and the pitter of rain finally reaches them. It stains the wood dark as it falls, and the whole island shakes as thunder rumbles across the forest.
They hear Sjin before they see him. A gasp of surprise and a grinned “Oh shit!” as he’s caught off-guard by the progress made. He’s soaking wet, hair doused by the rain and overalls muddied from chasing animals through the river. Rythian crests the ladder afterwards, just as soaked through. He wrings out his scarf uselessly, dumping the sack of wool next to the pile of resources.
He stares up at the rafters, eyes sceptical and narrow. He glances down at the bundle of finished roof sections and points at them.
“Not very helpful down there, are they?”
Sjin follows his hand, barking a laugh as Smiffy and Trott start babbling excuses at him. He helps with passing the sections up, Rythian replacing Lalna on the rooftop.

Between the two of them, and Strippin’s replacement of their wooden tools for more durable iron, the roof is almost finished by the time the first bolt of lightning strikes their vicinity. It barrels past them, blinding the nine for a second, tearing a particularly tall tree in two. The smouldering flames are extinguished, but Lalna and Benji share a look of horror at the proximity. The thunder that follows rocks the island, dislodging screws and loosening stonework.
Smiffy falters, slipping down to help work on the bed frames, leaving Rythian alone to finish up the final pieces. He’s overfocused, brows furrowed as he hammers thin nails into the wood. A second bolt strikes, further away this time, thunder bellowing out in the sky.

Lalna’s reflexes run on autopilot as the third strikes. The impact is deafening, a violent burst of light and sound that has most of them stumbling and covering their ears. His eyes adjust just in time. A blurry shape falls from the roof and his boots squeak on the floor as he launches himself in its direction. He catches cloth and doesn’t register the shouting behind him, or the claws dug into his legs to stop him from tumbling off of the edge.
He does hear the cloth strain in his hands. Strippin leans over him, pulling more of the cloth up and over the edge, and beneath the now roaring wind and rain, it's the pained hiss that forces his brain to catch up.
Rythian’s hair is blown back, singed and stood on end. His eyes are shut tight, skin unnaturally flushed as his body reacts to the electricity pulsing through his system. His shoulder twitches, and blood seeps up into the white of his robes. He’s not breathing. Lalna can’t look away, morbid curiosity keeping him drawn to the mage’s face.
Trott pushes past him, peeling away the mask and opening his mouth. Lalna stares at the scarring, tracing the lines there. His earring, metal, has burned into his earlobe. Nano’s hands are on his shoulders, pulling him out of the way as Rythian is scooped up and carried into their home, out of the rain, and the very roof he’d just been thrown from.

Chapter Text

Lalna didn't like guilt. Or- well, he didn't like feeling guilty.
It’s far too confusing for him. He and Rythian aren’t friends, he knows this, and even if they were, well- Lalna had just saved his life. Caught him precious moments before he would have fallen to his death.

He’s sat on the edge of Rythian’s bed, hands folded in his lap, jittering. He’ll stay there, though, occasional glances sideways to check for any twitches, any movement in his face. Anything to break the still silence.

If anyone knew how much of an ass Lalna could be, it was Lalna. He understood the way his brain worked just fine. But here he was, still glued to nurse duty. Still laying a hand just close enough to Rythian’s outstretched palm to feel the steady, quiet static of his magic.

Sjin drags him away in the afternoon, chopping wood together as the rain continues to pour. The lightning has passed, at the very least. He still lifts the axe and flinches, though, as though it might choose him to strike down next.

He doesn’t speak with Sjin for the entire outing. Sjin notices, of course, but doesn’t press it. Lalna watches him slink towards Ross and Smiffy, no doubt regaling how terrible Lalna had been-
He’s getting in a loop.

It’s not that he- Lalna’s been guilty before, of many things. Most of which he deserved. He understands this. But Rythian’s face, strained and pale with a notch cut into his ear, lodges itself in his brain. He’d saved him. So why doesn’t it feel right?
He sits himself back on the edge of the bed, placing the divider back between the cot and the rest of the room.

Rythian starts to stir overnight. He groans, low and rough, as he rolls over onto his bandaged shoulder. Lalna panics for a second. He’d hoped someone more prepared would have been about, but his refusal to leave the mage’s side had quashed any attempts.
“Hey,” he starts, gently, “Slow down.”

Rythian’s eyes shoot open.
He attempts to scramble back, Lalna’s quick hands the only thing stopping him from falling entirely onto his arm as his shoulder fails.
“Hey!” Lalna shouts this time, wincing at the volume, “Calm- Calm the fuck down, bro.”
Rythian realises he’s being cradled, and the rush of embarrassment hits just as the spike of pain does. He deflates, shifting in place to let Lalna nudge him into a seated position.

“Morning,” Lalna tries to smile genuinely, “It’s good to see you awake, actually.”
Rythian sneers, “And what does that mean?”
“Oh for goodness’ sake,” he sighs, “Well, you’re well enough to still have a stick up your ass, huh?”
Rythian growls, little anger behind it.
“I was on the roof,” Rythian sits up a little straighter, eyes narrowed as he notices the bandaging that reaches his elbow, “So…”
“Lightning got you good.”

Rythian’s face falls as the aching catches up with him. He looks like a mess. Despite the sleep his eyes are still sunken and dark, bright blue a faded grey. Lalna imagines, with his own lack of sleep, he looks much the same.
“You’re staring,” Rythian states, absently running his fingers over the wrappings.
“We should talk,” Lalna blurts, staring at the bed instead, “Not now, obviously- When you’re better.”
“Ah,” He takes a deep breath, leaning back against the wall, “About?”
Lalna squirms. “Everything?”
“Pah,” Rythian waves his hand, “Sure. Whatever eases your conscience.”

Rythian is up and moving far too soon for Trott’s liking. He, Strippin and Lalna had split any medical duties between them, and with Lalna no longer standing sentinel at Rythian’s bedside, he’d slipped away. Trott trailed him as best as he could, sharp eyes following every movement. He notices little tells, how the mage moves with an air of uncertainty, feet unsteady and shuffling. He keeps close to the walls, his hand brushing against the stone, and he jumps at loud or low noises. Thunder rumbles early one evening, and Trott watches as Rythian freezes and grabs at his own shirt.

Trott also watches, in utter dismay, how Rythian avoids Lalna at any and all cost. Just a glimpse of blond hair has him turn on the spot, picking alternate rounds and slinking behind corners, out of sight. It would be funny, if it wasn’t incredibly annoying.

It continues for the rest of the week.

Nano shoulders her way into command, establishing a weekly change-up of mayordom. She focuses on resource gathering. Sjin and Rythian, now an unofficial teamup that neither is vocally against, are tasked with building a smeltery.

They chalk out a circle for its base, in the wood of the newly cleared second floor. Sjin notices Rythian’s unease near the windows, and they move it further into the corner. Temporary furnaces go up along the wall, and they help themselves to the group’s stash of coal.
Rythian realises it’s an easy out. He can stay in this room and make bricks, warm and comfortable in the safety of their house. His back aches and his arm is still raw, but he’s eager (and more importantly, stubborn), to get out of the wood and stone confines and into a change of scenery.
He rockets down the ladder, watching with an unimpressed grimace as Sjin dives into the pool of water that bubbles next to the tethering. Sjin flicks water at him. Rythian swats him with his tail. The mine isn’t a far walk, dug into a cave not far from where they’d been hunting the week before.

Sjin hears the scuffle behind him. Rythian knocks a torch over in his panic, placing himself between Sjin and the foe hidden in the darkness.
“Sjin,” Rythian calls, barely above a whisper, “You’re there, right?”
“Behind you,” he confirms, straining, “What- What is it? What’s there?”
Rythian nudges the torch with his foot, rolling it deeper into the cavern.
“Don’t look at it directly,” he hisses, and Sjin understands as the fire blots out the shadow.

It resembles an Enderman, if one had been sawn in half and hastily reassembled. Short limbs, a shorter body. Its eyes are large, bulbous, and stare shakily at Rythian’s own. They both realise they’re unarmoured. Sjin’s denim overalls might shield him from a light attack, but Rythian’s heavy cloak is still on the island, singed and bloodied.
“What even is that?” Sjin chuckles, peering around Rythian.
“Endermini. They’re just as dangerous as the big ones, don’t let it fool you.” Rythian growls the name and grips the handle of his sword.
“It’s not doing anything, mate. It’s just a kid?”
Rythian sputters, “Just a kid?”

Sjin blinks. Ah.
He’s not going to poke that can of bees.

“Do- Do we just back away? How do you wanna handle this, endspert- expend- exp-” he gives up, “We’ve got plenty already. We can go.”
“I can carry more-”
Sjin stomps his foot hard on the floor. It echoes, loud like a clap, and both Rythian and the Endermini jump. The enderling teleports away with a shriek.
“I’ve had it with your shit,” Sjin shouts, “Go talk to Lalna! You’re avoiding him!”
Rythian blanks, turned to face him.
“You’re all, “let’s go deeper” and “what’s down that route”, because you don’t wanna go back and talk to Lalna, right?”
“No-”
“Rythian.”
“Fine!” Rythian huffs, retrieving his sword from where he’d dropped it, “You’re right! I’m doing what Nano asked us to do because I don’t want to be around the man on a completely different job.”
Sjin squawks, “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“He tried to have me killed, twice. I know we had our little reconciliation at that farm of yours, Sjin, but you’re not off the hook either.”
“Hey, look, the whole point of this place is to make us all, er, besties, right?”
Rythian glares daggers at him, “Sure.”
“Then go,” Sjin enunciates, “talk to,” he pauses, “fucking Lalna!”
“What do you want me to say, Sjin? Oh, ‘sorry I blanked you for days, let’s talk about how you and I tried to kill each other’.”
Sjin runs a hand through his hair, ears twitching, “If that’s what it takes. He sat with you for two nights straight, Rythian. If he didn’t catch you, you’d have- Throw him a bone?”

Rythian opens his mouth to protest but nothing makes it out. He curses in something guttural and grabs his pack before storming out of the cave.

“Oh,” Is Lalna’s dignified response when Rythian marches through the door into the smelter room. He makes to leave, stopped when Rythian doesn’t budge from the doorway.
Rythian takes a deep breath and sighs, “Do you.. want to help with the bricks?”
Lalna glances between him and the furnaces, where the morning’s batch of grout has been steadily cooking.
“Sure?”

Lalna pulls out his gloves and starts unloading the finished bricks, where they cool quietly before Rythian starts to arrange them into a base. It’s silent, save for the crackling of the furnaces and the scrape of grout and brick, the odd squeak of a boot on the floor. It’s almost comfortable. Almost.

Sjin stumbles in later, helps load the furnaces with another load of bricks. His face falls flat at the silence, and he reminds them to eat. The suggestion is ignored in favour of getting the smeltery working. Lava is syphoned into the tank, drains and controller installed, and Lalna pours in a starting batch of iron ore.

The room is oppressively hot. The creaks and pops of the molten metal are just as loud. Lalna can’t stand it for much longer, grabbing Rythian’s sleeve and pulling him out onto the small balcony.

They both gasp. The night air is a shock to the system, cold breeze still thick with the scent of rain, and the almost overwhelming quiet is deafening.
“Holy shit,” Lalna mutters, stepping forwards to lean against the railing, “Lookit that.”
Rythian follows his gaze skywards. Streaks of teal and bright, light blue paint across the sky. They shift and dance, competing to blot out the stars far beyond them.
“Aurora,” Rythian states, a whisper.
“At this time of year?”
Rythian shoves him, snickering.

He leans forwards, arms crossed over the fence.
“Sjin said I have to talk to you.”
“Ew,” Lalna scoffs, “He’s not your dad- don’t say it like that.”
“Be serious with me, for once.”
Lalna cocks his head, “I’m- Okay. Go on then?”

The door creaks behind them, a burst of warmth against their backs. Neither speaks for a moment, Rythian closing his eyes briefly.
“I- I’m asking if we can,” he pauses, struggling with his wording, “I’d like to alter our truce.”
Lalna squints, smiling, “What?”
“We’re stuck together, here. And as much as I’d like to avoid you, I- You saved my life. I should-”
He takes a shaky breath, “Thank you for that. I haven’t really talked this much in a while.”

“You’re welcome. I, uh, I thought you were mad at me for saving you.”
“What?” Rythian elbows him, “Don’t be ridiculous. I think, selfishly, I just didn’t want it to have been.. You.”
“Understandable. I wouldn’t wanna be in a life debt to me, of all people.”
“No- No, there’s no life debt here. We’re not doing that. I’ve thanked you, and I’m willing to work with you temporarily.”
Lalna raises his fist, knuckles towards Rythian, “Truce?”
Rythian bumps their hands together, “Truce.”

“This is beautiful, by the way.”
Lalna stares at Rythian, “Yeah.”

Chapter Text

“So,” Nano starts with a sly grin, swinging her hips, “You and Rythian?”
“Are tentative friends,” Lalna huffs, “Don’t you start with that voice.”
She giggles, leaning against him to peer under his arm at the desk, “What voice? I heard you had a cute moment on the balcony.”
“Who- Who saw us?”
“No-one, thanks for confirming it, though!”
“Oh, you!” Lalna reaches back, grappling her into a one-armed hug, “cheeky shit.”
She smacks his chest lightly, “So, introduce us?”
“After that? You’re lucky we’re still friends.”
“Drama queen.”
Lalna sticks his tongue out at her. She bites the arm penning her in, laughing when he splutters and draws it back.
“Fine! Fine, sure. You two’ll get along like a damn house on fire.”

They did, and whether it was to Lalna’s delight or chagrin was still up for the jury. He’d tried to help her out with her magic studies, but his book knowledge was nothing compared to the years of practical practice of the Enderborn. He was the closest thing to an expert, and with precious few other magically talented companions, she’d dubbed him her new teacher for as long as they remained in Cornerstone. Rythian didn’t have much time to protest, still bandage-bound and barred from most tasks.

Lalna tagged along to their preliminary lessons. It was mostly catch-ups, discussions of magical theory that had him lost minutes in. He started to bring little projects with him. There wasn’t much need for digitised storage yet, or even power, but it couldn’t hurt to start a few wiring setups while they talked their mystical nonsense. It kept his hands busy.

On day three, as the evening light casts the island above them a brilliant orange, Nano is handed a diamond.

She glances at it, scrutinising, before staring up at Rythian. His mask wrinkles as he smiles.
“If you want to progress with thaumaturgy, we’ll need materials. I was planning to bring this up at the next proper meeting, actually, but I know a good place to mine.”
“You’re not meant to be mining, after what that last trip did to your shoulder,” Lalna calls over his shoulder.
“I wasn’t!” Rythian snaps back, “There are other ways of finding diamonds.”
“Stealing from Sjin?”
The silence speaks volumes, Nano and Lalna creasing with laughter.

“The Twilight Forest.” Rythian continues, pinching at his nose bridge, “I spent some substantial time there. It’s worth a mining trip or two, very rich with ores and such.”
Lalna pales, “Oh! That’s- That’s a real place?”
“You thought it wasn’t?”
“Um, so,” Lalna fiddles with the kit in his hands, twisting on the chair to look at them, “When Nano’s flux started getting worse, I looked for you. Wanted to get your help but, uh, poof! No trace of you, or Zoeya.”
“Ah.”
“Ravs said you’d gone to the Twilight, and I kinda thought that meant you, like, died.”

Rythian snickers at this, “No- No, stupid. Another dimension.”
“Well how was I meant to know that!”
“Do they not teach this in school? Gods above, no wonder none of you can use magic,” Rythian gestures off towards the treeline, “We can put it over there, probably.”
Nano peers around him, “Put.. what?”
“Portal. It’s a pit in the ground, nothing fancy like those Nether gates.”
“Ooh, rustic.”
“Ha! Yeah, suppose.”

Nano skips past him, circling an even spot, “This big enough?”
“Plenty,” Rythian cocks his head, “We’ll need some flowers, though. Mushrooms, maybe.”
“No wonder you went with Zoeya-” Lalna jokes, though he looks away at the flash of anger that flickers across Rythian’s face.
“Right,” Nano hums, oblivious, “So, we plant those, dig a hole and…”
“Fill it with water, then throw in the diamond with a chant.”
Nano squints, “A chant?”
“Surely you’ve encountered-”
“No- I know what a chant is. That’s it, though?”
“A Nether gate isn’t much more complicated, is it?”
Nano hums, nodding.

She turns to the ladder, sprinting off without a word. Rythian watches her scale the ladder, briefly, before turning to stomp over to Lalna. He looms over the man, wide shoulders and height still imposing even underneath a baggy shirt and bandaged. Lalna keeps his eyes fixed on his wiring, bug eyed expression hidden beneath his hair.
“How bad is her flux, Lalna?”
His voice is flat, his kindly tone with Nano gone.
“What?” Lalna glances up through his fringe, “Why are you asking me?”
“She’s scared to mention it. You said you sought me out, right?”
“I- Yeah, but- What do you wanna know?”
“How long, how much, and how deep?” It feels invasive.
“Two years, I think. Covers, uh, about half of her body, and it’s taken an eye. I don’t- Deep? Does it permeate because I’ve got some on my nose that-”
“Yours is surface, yes,” Rythian crouches, lifting Lalna’s face with one hand to study the purple smattering across his face, “From what I know, at least. I might be wrong, but I think the deeper the colour, the deeper the infection.”

Lalna thinks about Nano. The rich, thick purple that strings down her arms, and stretches across her face. He looks down at his hands. There’s a block in his throat and he stands up. Rythian backs away, brow creased, “Lalna?”
“A minute,” he croaks, setting down the wires and walking into the woods.

It's louder here, birdsong above him. The breeze rustles the leaves. His hands ache. He flexes them, feeling the ghost sensation of wriggling, writhing flux across his skin. He’d worn his gloves for a long time after his infection, hiding the growths from Nano. He’d given up once it spread to his face, discoloured his eyes.

It was his own fault, his mind supplied, that she’d gotten this bad. Lalna didn’t like guilt.

“Lalna?” Rythian’s voice is soft, a few feet behind him.
“Can you cure us?”
Rythian nods, his mask brushing against the scarf bundled about his neck, “I can try.”

Nano returns to the clearing a while later, bundles of flowers tucked into her arms and pockets. She’d ransacked the entire wall of chests, plucking anything their basemates had thrown haphazardly into the storage.

Lalna manages a chuckle, watching her descend.
“Need some help there?”
“Shut up!” She calls back, muffled through the bouquet, “Didn’t see you picking any.”
He laughs then, Rythian snickering to the side.

Sjin follows her down, a minute later, far more plants tucked into a basket. Rythian kicks himself for not specifying an amount, pressing his face into his palms. He guides them in arranging the circle, planting a selection of bright, blooming poppies, shimmering white-petal lilies and squat, ripe mushrooms. It’s not the prettiest, sure, but it’ll work. Lalna and Sjin drag over water buckets, once they’d filled him in on the actual plan, while Nano and Rythian dug out the pit.

It’s not deep, knee-high at most, and they pat it down as much as they can with their shovels and boots. It doesn’t need sealing, at least. Rythian explains it again, with a sigh, that it’s not going to stay water, but Sjin insists on moulding some clay over the bottom.

The water is poured in, pooling at the bottom of the hole. It dirties instantly, a silty brown, and Rythian sighs.

“Thank goodness you’re in charge,” Rythian leans gently on Nano’s shoulder, “I can’t imagine the slack they’d send us for digging a mud pit.”
She laughs, “They wouldn’t dare. I’d kick their asses.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Rythian’s eyes crease in a smile, and he gestures to the pit, “Time for the magic.”
“Do- I just throw the diamond in?”
“I’ll cover the rest,” he winks, rolling his shoulders.

Nano crouches, gently dropping the diamond into the puddle. It’s visible beneath the cloudy water, reflecting the sunlight that filters in through the trees. Rythian, above her, flexes his arms out, and the diamond starts to glow. He mumbles something under his breath, muffled by the mask, and the plant circle joins in with the warm orange song.

She feels Lalna peer over her, resting an elbow on her shoulder, both watching enraptured as the water swirls into the familiar purple of a portal. It crackles, pink and pale green magic sparking between the plane and the flowers, before arcing up towards the sky with a loud rumble. Rythian flinches, stepping back, and he blinks away the magic from his eyes.

“Woah.”
“Is it dangerous?” Lalna asks.
“Obviously,” Rythian responds in turn, cricking his neck, “If you’re just mining, not anymore so than the brightlands.”
“Guided tour, then?” Nano pipes, face falling when Rythian shakes his head.
“No, no. I’ve had my fair share of those woods. You’ll go together though, won’t you?”
Nano sits cross legged by the portal, shrugging, “He’s a liability.”
Lalna splutters, pretending to shove her in.

Rythian hears the door creak behind him. The kitchen area is new, and with him allowed to do little else, he’s found himself prepping vegetables for most of the morning. It’s chilly, the windows drawn shut and slightly frosted, and the surface isn’t visible through a thick, frozen haze.

“You busy?” Lalna asks, voice oddly quiet in the small room.
“Nothing urgent,” Rythian sets down the knife, leaning against the counter, “Why?”
“I, um- Easier to show you.”

Lalna crosses the distance, rolling up his sleeve as he moves. He produces a small twig from his pocket, bright silver leaves catching the blueish light that streams through the windows. Rythian stares at him, confused.
“Watch,” Lalna presses the twig into the inside of his elbow, where the flux hasn’t quite reached, and Rythian watches fascinated as the purple skin around it recoils. The tendrils writhe away from it, curling into tight knots in an attempt to get as far away as possible.

“This is incredible,” Rythian takes Lalna’s arm in his hands, thumbing over the now clean section of skin, “You clever boy.”
Lalna flushes red, eyes locked on Rythian’s hands, “I tripped over one of the trees and it made my whole body feel like pins and needles.”
“Incredible,” Rythian repeats, now with a hint of snark, “You continue to fall face-forward into success.”
“That’s my guarantee.”
“Silly,” Rythian berates, taking the twig and placing it into Lalna’s open hand, “Did you get more?”
“I have a few saplings. Even if they weren’t useful, they’re very pretty trees. If we can grow them, here, of course.”
“Hah, true.

“Am I interrupting something?”
They turn to see Smiffy, curled against the doorframe. He’s grinning, cheshire. Rythian realises he’s holding Lalna’s hand, and pulls away.
“No.” He answers, turning to busy himself with the carrots again, “I’ve been meaning to ask your assistance, actually, Smiffy.”
His face changes in an instant, “Oh yeah? What’s the great and powerful Enderborn need from little ol’ me?”
Rythian pauses, turning with a confused brow, “Assistance?”
“With what, boss?”
“Oh! Of course, um- I’m curing Lalna, and Nano. Or, trying to.”

Only the solid, rhythmic thumping of Rythian’s knife cutting against the board rings out for a long, awful moment of silence.
“You’re insane.”
“I can, at the very least, try.” Rythian hums, turning away, “And surely the odds are further in our favour if you’re there to help? I hear you’re a talented thaumaturge.”
“You’re buttering me up, you sly bastard.”
“Is it working?”
Smiffy chuckles, “Well, yeah.”

He rolls up his sleeves, “When do we start?”