TRYST // Philza X Reader

2

You had your fresh greens for dinner, but it wasn't the relaxing meal you'd hand in mind when you'd made your way home. There was a royal summons on your back now, and you knew you would be thinking about it all night.

What could the king himself possibly want with you? You were just a messenger - you carried letters around for a living. Royal summons were meant for mercenaries or adventurers or great artists and musicians, not commoners like you. Surely the king didn't just need you to carry a letter for him - no, whatever this was, it was important.

You barely got any sleep that night, too busy running through every possible scenario for your arrival at the palace the next morning. You rose with the sun, putting on the best clothes you had and eating the only thing you could stomach at the moment - a hunk of bread that you had leftover from dinner the night before. Your stomach roiled with nerves.

You were going to see the king, and he had asked for you specifically, and you didn't even know why.

The walk to the palace was no better - you already felt off balance without a bag of letters at your side, and with every step the nerves that had made a home in your stomach only grew more. There was some comfort in watching the city wake up around you - as you usually did each morning - but it was only a slight combat to the dread pooling in your chest.

When you arrived at the gates, you showed the guards on duty the summons you had received and they waved you inside, giving you some short instructions on how to find the throne room. You walked the palace halls in silence, only occasionally passing another person as you made your way to the throne room. Eventually, you found yourself in front of two tall oak doors - the throne room.

You tucked the royal address into your pocket and took one last long breath before stepping inside.

Inside, the throne room was impressive. It vaguely reminded you of a chapel or a church with the tall windows and intricate carving in the walls. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room. At the opposite end from the doors, a throne sat on a raised dias - and in it, the king himself. He was old and graying, but you could see the last vestiges of a strong young man within his stony eyes. On either side of his seat, two nearly identical endermen flanked him like shadowy bookends.

You stooped into a low bow as soon as you felt his eyes on you. "Your Highness."

When you rose, the king was looking at you - appraising. "You must be the messenger I called for."

"I am." You said, nodding again. "It is an honor to have received a summons, your Majesty."

"Well, your employer spoke highly of your skills." The king said. "She said you'd been delivering letters since you were a child - plenty years of experience. Just the sort of person we need for the job."

The king held a hand out to his left, and as if on command, that enderman disappeared, only to return a moment later with a scroll in hand, gently placing it in the king's outstretched palm. The scroll was already bound shut, the string held in place with another royal blue wax seal - just like the one that had been attached to the summons you had received.

"I'm sure you've heard by now that this war is proving more difficult than anyone originally thought it would be." The king said. "It's become clear to me, that if I hope to win this fight, it's time to reach out to old friends and allies."

So that was what he wanted. The scroll in his hand now would quite possibly be the most important letter you would ever carry - but why were you carrying it? If King Etienne was calling out to old allies, wouldn't it be better to send a political embassy?

"If I may, your Highness," You began slowly. "Would it not be more appropriate to send an embassy of some kind? I'm just a town messenger, after all..."

The king nodded slowly. "It would - if you were going to a kingdom. I've recently sent an embassy out east, to old Herobrine's castle. However, the friend I have in mind doesn't quite have a permanent address." He paused. "How familiar are you with the Angel of Death?"

Your eyebrows furrowed at the mention of the tall tale. "The children's story?" You asked. "About the man who saw the creation of the very world we stand in?" The king nodded. "It's just a story, isn't it?"

A slow smile stretched across the king's lips. "Oh no, Philza is very real."

Your eyes widened. You would be carrying a letter from the king... to the Angel of Death.

The king sighed, running a hand across his face. "Ever since one of my navy ships failed to retrieve a Totem of Undying from a band of pirates, I've been considering my other options. Of course, security is high, but even the most well trained guards are still mortal... and there's no doubt in my mind that the pillagers will try to kill me. It's always easiest to chop the head off first, you know."

The king beckoned you forward, and you went to him, taking the sealed scroll as he held it out to you. The paper was smooth under your fingers, and the royal blue wax was dusted with gold this time.

"You'll be doing a great service to your kingdom, especially in this time of uncertainty." The king said, his eyes finding yours. "If the Angel of Death sides with us, there is no possibility we will fall."

You looked back down at the scroll in your hand. Suddenly, the paper felt like the weight of the whole world.