Mɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ

VERY MICHAEL

They'd only just breached the treeline when Michael finally asked the question. "Are we there yet?"

Technoblade turned around and pinned him with his most dead stare yet, continuing to walk with his back to the worn path. "It takes at least a week to get to the Esempi Michael. We've been at it for five hours at most."

Michael frowned. His feet were aching from his trek across the fields between their little village to the forest. His pack felt much heavier than it had when they'd started up, which confused him considering all it consisted of was an extra pair of clothes wrapped in a light cloak. His breaths were coming out fast and laboured. He was regretting not putting a water bucket in his inventory before starting out.

"Leave him alone Techno, it's his first time." Phil said. "You'll get used to it Michael. The pain makes it all the more rewarding when we get there."

Michael grunted, doubting it. He wanted to stop and rest, wash the sweat off him and sleep for the next five weeks. Potato farming may have done wonders for his arms, but nothing for his legs.

Nevertheless, he refused to fall behind, wanting to prove to Techno and Phil that it was the right decision to bring him on this trip. They continued down the worn forest path for another few hours before finally stopping for lunch. Michael had never been more grateful in his life. He plonked down on a fallen tree and shoved his sandwich down his throat, his stomach quieting.

...

Over the next few weeks of travel, Michael felt like he was learning things. Techno taught him how to light a fire on their first night. After setting alight several bushes, Phil had decided lessons involving fire could resume at a later date and Michael was subtly banned from touching the flint and steel.

On the third night, they needed to restock food, so Techno decided it was time Michael learnt to fish. There hadn't been any lakes near Michael's village and therefore he hadn't had much of an opportunity to learn. Luckily, Techno was a good teacher, despite being a relentless slave driver, and soon Michael found himself the designated fisher. He was immensely proud of this position, even if he suspected it was just to keep him happy so Phil and Techno could focus on keeping them on track.

On the fifth night, Michael had a nightmare. He'd shot up in the middle of the night plagued with visions of blank walls caving in on him and locked trapdoors mocking him as he ran around an empty room trying to escape. He'd slapped a hand to his mouth, muffling his panicked breathing, eye darting wildly side to side. Slowly Michael had relaxed, taking in the wide open space around him, the stars shining down on him, unobstructed by a ceiling.

He'd still been too shaken up to go back to sleep, instead choosing to go for a walk. Techno and Phil didn't know about the nightmares, and Michael liked to keep it that way. After finding Michael collapsed in the snow miles from Ranboo and Tubbo's house, they hadn't talked much about what happened. All they knew was that Michael would sell his soul to avoid going back there, despite his willingness to embark on this trip.

None of that mattered, and if Michael appeared more tired than usual the next day, no one mentioned it.

The next three weeks went somewhat the same. Michael found himself losing track of time, the world a green and brown blur around him, sometimes breaking to reveal a village or a crystal lake. He continued to pick up skills as they travelled; hunting, gathering, how to tell poison ivy from box eider. He collected trinkets as they went along, including a bandanna he tied around his forehead in a mockery of Techno's crown. If either of the adults noticed they didn't say anything, though Michael did catch a smirk on Phil's face when he first tied the band around his forehead.

He was happy, and the journey was living up to all his high expectations. By the time they'd approached the last village before Dray, he felt as if he'd filled his entire pre-adult wishlist.