Oneshots

Fate | Technoblade

"I'll let you do anything you please after we get home, alright? I'll let you beat me in sparring. After dark, I'll steal a few of your favourite honey cakes from the kitchen for us to eat together. So please Tommy, stay with me for a moment, don't close your eyes on me."

The boy could barely muster the energy to breathe, to pump air through his lungs. To stay alive. He couldn't begin to fathom the idea of opening his eyes, looking at his brother - his mentor, his best friend - one final time.

His head was spinning from the lost blood, his thoughts as scrambled as the seemingly massacre, which lay in front of him. The sound of cannons and gunshots- of war rang in his head, but he knew it wasn't real. It was the sound of death, of destruction, pain, suffering.

He was coughing- choking on the blood dried in his mouth, the tears, both old and new flowing down his face, diluting the bright liquid which coated the vibrant green grass.

10 years ago, when the boy had passed his 8th birthday, Technoblade had decided that the day his brother died would be the day that he could, and would, destroy the world. And as his brother aged, becoming a teenager, and then a young adult, he began to dread that promise. But what he dreaded more, what he dreaded the most, was knowing that this young boy that he had watched grow up, that he had raised, protected with all his life, who he treated as his younger brother, would be targeted, killed, by an enemy - a nation, an army, another individual - that even The Blade could not fight against. Yet, besides knowing that, all his life, he had never anticipated an enemy like this. An enemy that no man could ever win against. The spirit of Death itself. Death, destruction and whatever lay beyond.

~~~

His blade glinted in the scarlet sunlight as the dawn rose. It was a clear day, the sun was bright and bold. 12 days ago, his brother had passed his 15th birthday, as he took the role of Crown Prince. It was a day like no other. It was the day that their nation went to war.

He himself had always commanded the front troops, from the day he passed his 16th birthday. They called him a military prodigy, a gifted warrior, a master strategist, so, when he was only 8 years old, he began to fight- fight for his life against the rigid social barriers which bound him to poverty.

He quickly rose through their ranks and became the youngest ever officer, only 10 years of age. He didn't just stop there, and quickly became a Lieutenant, then a Sergeant Officer, a Colonel, and eventually, at age 14, the General.

It was then that the Royal family began to notice him, as his name was all over the news for his great accomplishments and near impossible feats, that someone 3 times his age couldn't even dream of doing. He was praised and honoured to an extent that no one had been before. So no one was surprised when the Royal family had announced him as the General, and, since the war had been won, the Captain of the Royal Guard. He began to personally train their two sons, the King's Viziers, guard members, and soon, even the King himself.

The third child and final child of the family had begun taking lessons when he was 4 years old, as the Emperor wished for him to serve as a Lieutenant General. However, even as he passed 10 years old, then a few years more, the boy never had striking talent- or interest, for that matter, to catch up with the peasant boys who, like Techno, had to fight for their lives and livelihoods in battle. The young boy's heart was rather keen to the arts; poetry, music, painting, drawing, even cooking, much to his fathers' demise.

Nonetheless, he continued to teach the boy, through his youth and his time as an adolescent. Technoblade saw the boy as the brother he never had, like the son of his mother and father that he himself had only met once before leaving permanently for the army, where he served on the front lines. The boy would be 8 years younger than him, the same age as the boy he taught, cherished and protected now. He wondered what his relationship with that boy could be like, if he hadn't left for the battlefield so young. But as he watched the 9 year old boy, the youngest prince of their great Kingdom, as he lifted his sword, then as he struck the training mannequins, he couldn't help but feel content, proud, of the life that he had made. Every step that he had taken, every soldier he had slain, every battle that he'd waged, every moment that had led him to where he was now, he was proud of. Despite the bloodshed, the agonizing pain he had constantly felt, despite the hard circumstances he had faced, for the first time in his life, Technoblade was truly happy. And it was all because of this one young boy.