Acts of Redemption

Fix it up, Make it stop.

This chapter has been rewritten!
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As much as he enjoyed flying, Purple was getting pretty tired of it.

Yeah, the idea of keeping the group separate was a good one, thank his King for that. But that also meant Purple was the one who needed to fly back and forth in order to keep everything in check.

And Purple wasn't in a very good mood no more.

For starters, his leg was starting to hurt pretty badly, more than it was before. At first he thought it was just the strain, he had been flying around for almost an hour now, and that put some stress in his muscles, but it turns out, basalt dust was really fucking bad for his wounds, even covered by that piece of wool, it was burning him like hell, no pun intended.

But as it was expected of him, he took a deep breath and pushed through it. His King would be proud of his resilience, he thought.

The second tower he visited was built in the middle of the basalt spikes, a small set of stairs up to the entrance, and pools of lava around it. Purple had to wave a hand to push the dust out of his face as he landed at the top of the stairs.

There was only one brute at the door, simply because a substitute for the other one would only arrive in a few more hours.

"Is he awake?" — Purple asked the brute, who only sheepshigly nodded his head once. Great.

He simply sighed and walked inside, knowing what to expect by now.

From the moment Red was awake, he had been nothing but a very big thorn on his side, Red had killed three of the piglin brutes he had sent to supervise him, and oh, softly promised he would do it again if any other was called in. To this point, Purple couldn't really understand how he managed to do that through the burning bars, but it was better to not doubt Red's nature.

For someone who cared so much for animals, he seemed to not really care for the pigs he was killing.

Purple pushed past the brute at the door and went down the corridor, walking up the stairs and hissing softly at the sharp pain in his leg as he made his way up.

The floor was completely silent, unlike Blue's tower, and Purple couldn't tell if that was better or worst for his sanity.

From the little time they spent together, Purple could say with certainty that Red was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Calm, gentle, polite and dangerous. And he truly didn't want to underestimate what that guy could do if he let his guard down for long.

You should take tips from him. Purple shook that thought away as he stopped in front of the cage.

Red was simply laying on the concrete bed, hands behind his back and eyes closed, his foot so close to the bars, Purple was sure a badly calculated move would burn him. And for just a second he felt compeled to scream and scare his prisioner out of his nap just to watch it happen.

There was a small gash on his forehead, dried up blood midway down his temple. Purple would have been surprised if Red hadn't been a violent nuisance from the moment he opened his eyes hours before.

"That looks like it hurts." — Purple said without thinking, and his prisioner opened his eyes.

"I hit my head pretty hard on the floor." — Red said with a chuckle before he sat up to stare at Purple with a little smile. — "I may have a concussion if i'm too unlucky. But how are you, Purple?"

Purple would be lying if he didn't admit how taken aback he was by that, he didn't expected rudeness from Red, of course, but friendlyness was not one of the options he thought he would have, especially after everything that went down. — "I'm doing just fine." He mumbled bluntly regardless.