A Faithful Memory

The power of an angel

Techno still hadn't woken. Philza knelt beside him, his face set, his eyes distant, his hands mechanically petting the hybrid over and over again. He was thinking about what he'd just done. Calling out to Kristen, to the lady of Death, accepting his role as her angel. For years and years he'd done nothing but seek to return to her side, roaming the world in search of anything he could use: a portal, a spell, a ritual, suicide, anything. He'd tried for so long. But now...

Long ago, she had given him wings. Made him her angel. He had a task, a duty, and so far he had not fulfilled it. Until today. Phil gazed at Techno, sleeping under the cape. Maybe it wasn't mere chance that had brought this man to the pit where Phil had struggled, helpless and agonized. Maybe this person had been exactly who he'd needed to wake him up.

Philza shuffled around Techno until he could rest his friend's head on his knees, then he resumed his petting. Philza was a very tactile person, which meant that every time Techno had come near him, Phil would tap him or pat his knee or stroke his arm. He was honestly surprised Techno hadn't told him to stop yet. Maybe he didn't mind. Or just didn't care. It was hard to read Techno.

A soft breeze wafted past the cave entrance, and Phil caught a quick scent of roses. He frowned. That should be impossible. No way were there roses this late in the year, and certainly not after the storm of last night. He sniffed again. Yes, it was certainly roses. Agh, now he had to go see what it was. He glanced down at Techno and gently lowered his head back to the ground. "Just a minute, mate." He whispered, and started his slow, awkward creep to the mouth of the cave.

The air outside was brisk, but definitely a change for the better from last night. Phil breathed in deeply, letting the cool wind refresh him from the inside out. The scent of the flowers was much stronger now, but not overpowering. Philza glanced around outside the cave's entrance, his blue eyes going wide at what they saw.

Bushes had sprouted up overnight, crowding the sides of the cave mouth. Rose blossoms, red as the heart's darkest blood, grew from almost every aperture, their petals shining with the morning's dew, and brown and black leaves sprouted everywhere a flower did not show its face.

The flowers of Death.

The angel rose to his knees, a cry of joy bursting from his lips and his hands extending to the sky. "You heard me! Kristen, you heard me!" He had not heard a sound or received a sign from her in decades, perhaps longer. As long as he had struggled to find his way back to her deathly realm, she had been silent. But now, with the acceptance of his power, of the life she had given him, now she responded.

Philza stared at the flowers. Kristen's flowers. He had never seen a more beautiful sight in all the years he had journeyed upon this earth. The sheer relief, the giddy delight of hearing from his beloved for the first time in years and years sent waves of euphoria over Phil's mind. He ran his hands through his hair, laughing.

"Phil?" A weary voice behind him made the angel start. He turned, and saw Technoblade standing a few feet behind him. The hybrid gazed sleepily at Phil, his body still wrapped in the cape, his pink hair even more disheveled than usual. "Phil, you okay? What's with the flowers?"

Philza grinned. "Yeah, mate. I'm good. I...I..." Words failed him as he stared at the very mortal hybrid, at someone who could not possibly understand what it meant to love Death. To be loved by someone so deadly yet so gentle to mortal kind. Who gave wings and immortality to those she adored, who lived in a place that slowly killed any mortal who dared to walk there, who made them her angels. So that one day they could return to her, fashioned by their journeys into a new being, someone who could live as she did in the land of Death. At last, Philza understood his purpose. And wondered, with a breathless laugh, why he had not figured it out before.