A Faithful Memory

A Story of One and Six

Soon it was every night that Technoblade was sneaking out to ease the tension that spilled from his nightmares. Instead of going into the forest, however, he found a chasm and explored that, dodging creepers and smashing skeletons. Zombies crumpled under the strokes of his blade and spiders lay in bleeding halves on the stone floor. He never actually brought back anything except his injuries.

Kai wanted to bind up his brother's wounds, but Techno refused, promising instead to let Kai braid his hair afterwards. "Well...okay," the avian acquiesced, "but you have to tell me what's wrong. Promise me, Tech. I want to know what's happening."

The request of a promise halted Technoblade as he was starting up the stairs. He looked back at Kai, who stood by the bannister, grey wings curled around himself, hands clasping the railing with the faintest signs of roughness appearing on the backs of them. Part of his avian maturity cycle, Philza said. Kai's violet eyes stared at him, but without their usual melancholy; concern and frustration filled them instead, hinting to Techno just how long Kai had been aware of his struggles. The piglin hybrid looked down at the steps. "Sure. I'll tell you later." Looking away, he continued up the stairs. But he didn't go to his room.

It was early in the morning; he knew Philza would be on the roof, caring for the flowers before the sun rose high enough to begin drying their soil again. Opening the door that led out onto the rooftop garden, Techno stepped into a grey-gold dawn that muted every color into a gentle glow. The Angel was kneeling among the daisies and tulips, a watering can in one hand, carefully holding the leaves of the flowers aside as he poured water over the dirt that kept them alive. He was humming something, a song Techno knew this time but wasn't inclined to identify. His green and white hat was laid on a chair nearby and both wings were unfurled, spread wide over nearly the whole garden.

Techno sat down where he was, gathering his hair into an impromptu bun to keep it out of the way. The leather thongs Ranboo had given him were used exclusively for this purpose. He waited, watching as Phil, profiled against the farther trees of the forest, attended to his plants with a care Techno found it rude to interrupt.

He didn't have to wait long. As usual, Phil must've heard the sound of his hooves on the wooden floor. "You're early, Techno." He commented. He got a grunt in response. Glancing towards the hybrid, he sighed at the sight of the bruises and the cuts that seeped blood through Techno's clothes. The Angel got to his feet. "Mate," he began, "what have you been doing?"

Techno's ears flopped downwards and he would not meet Philza's eyes. "Fightin'." He muttered. "In the woods."

"At night, or so it seems." Phil remarked, stepping past Techno and holding the door open for him. "Let's get you patched up." They headed downstairs to the living room again and then through the kitchen down to Philza's workshop, which had a section devoted to being something of a medicine pantry. Techno took off his shirt, put it next to him, and sat down silently on the table, tapping the edge of the wooden surface and watching Phil search for bandages and fill up a bowl with clean water from an installed pump. When he came back and set the bowl beside Techno, Philza paused, eyeing the sullen expression on the young man's face. "Mate, this is the third time in three days. Or nights. What's happened?"

At first Techno tapped his hooves on the ground and didn't answer. Then, when Philza didn't move, he said, "Was fightin', like I said."

"Techno, you're not even fighting like I know you can. You shouldn't have wounds at all. So why do you?"

Thoughts, both in pictures and words, trotted round and round in the hybrid's mind without him settling on any in particular. "I'm...I...." His fingers wrapped around the edge of the table.

Phil laid a hand on his shoulder. "Talk to me, mate. You're fighting something inside yourself and it's not going well. Tell me what you need." There was a persistence in his tone Techno knew wouldn't go away. He could feel his ears droop lower as he made up his mind.