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The death of a warrior, the death of a friend

The wind blew softly in their hair. Everyone stood in the tundra, before the small gravestone. Philza, Wilbur, and Tommy stood before them all, carrying one item each.

Phil stepped forward first, carrying a sword that had seen years of bloodshed. The silver blade had been cleaned and polished, to the point where the aged warrior could see his reflection in it. The golden handle was embedded with rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, and now had a simple blue ribbon tied to it. The phrase "Technoblade Never Dies" was emblazoned on the blade, still clear as day, even with the countless chips and scratches on the blade.

"So long, friend," he said as he shoved the sword into the snow and dirt, blade first. As he stepped back, all that could be heard was the crunching of the snow, and the occasional sniffle and muffled sob.

Wilbur stepped up next, holding a crown that had been well-earned years ago. Like the blade handle, the golden crown was embedded with various rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, and like the blade itself, was polished until he could see his reflection.

With a muffled sob, he put the crown on top of the gravestone. He then stepped back, silent tears streaming down his face.

Tommy then hesitantly stepped up, holding a red cape that had been washed and carefully folded. "I found what I was looking for," he sobbed as he gently put the folded cape in front of the blade and put an allium on top of it as well.

As he stepped back, all was silent. Everyone silently grieved the loss of the warrior, who was as kind as he was brave.

~<•>~

"Would you like me to send a message?" The Goddess of Death asked him.

He shook his head, smiling sadly. "No. I think...I think all has been said."

She nodded. "Any regrets?"

He shook his head again. "No. I wish I would've had more time, but...but you know what? With what little time I was given, I don't think I would've had it any other way."

She smiled sadly. "They loved you, you know."

He nodded. "I know."

"And they know you loved them too, even if you've never said it."

"I know."

She frowned. "It's almost time."

He frowned. "Just a couple more minutes?"

She smiled sadly. "Even I cannot prolong your time here. I am simply the reaper. The most I can do is stay with you until you go."

He smiled sadly. "Thank you."

She looked to her right and frowned when she saw the door forming. "This is your last chance. Would you like to return as a spirit?"

He shook his head. "No. It's easier to get over the death of someone who is gone."

"They'll never get over your death."

"No, they will. In time. You will always miss the dead, but life still goes on. The world doesn't stop when someone dies, and neither should they. You may grieve for the rest of your life, but work still needs to be done."

She smiled sadly. "Even in death, you're still being just as inspirational."

He smiled. He then looked towards the fully formed door and frowned. "What if it's bad?"

"It won't be." She reassured him. "Not for you."

He hesitantly walked towards the door and put his hand on the knob. "If I open it, what will happen?"

"You'll wait in the afterlife until your soul is born anew. It might take a decade or millennia. If not longer." She answered.

"And what will it look like? My afterlife?" He asked.

"It'll be your most ideal afterlife, that will keep you content until the world calls for you again." She answered.

He gave her a sad smile. "Thank you."

She smiled back. "Go now, child."

He nodded and opened the door.

And he smiled.

~<•>~

629 words

May the king Rest In Peace 💜