Oneshots! (Mostly Hermitcraft)

The Code Whisperer [Xisuma]

TW: blood and injury. A lot of it. Oh, and death. Yeah.

Hello, my name's Xisuma. I pronounce it "Uh-soo-mah", but the end raiders we get here in the Deep End don't always say it right. Nobody has any nicknames for me except my older brother, Exano. He called me his "little Xi". I called him "Ex", like the letter. Called. He's dead now. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure the elders set us up. You can't get as old as they are without realising what causes code-scars. Then again, everybody derps sometimes.

Everyone seems so relieved now that Exano's gone. I won't pretend to understand. He just got a different set of code; nothing about him was a "curse". He was just different, and that difference made him a scapegoat, taboo, and dangerous. I lived with him my whole life, though – as much as we could, with his exploration job. He taught me so much code, including cadences he made up himself. He taught me how to do that, too, and English so I can chat with the end raiders that stumble across our settlement.

I miss him. It's only been four hours since the ritual the elders performed to lift the "curse". In fact, I'm doing one of the things he used to do all the time: sitting and dangling my feet into the Void. I told the elders I needed space to "snap out of it" and that "it's hard to finally be free". I've never felt the need to lie to people like that. I guess that's what grief does.

Anyway, that's enough. I'm just waffling to the Void. I know Exano sometimes said he could hear responses from its depths, but I'm not there yet.

===

The house was awfully quiet. Xisuma was still shaking off the cold of the Void as he shut the door behind him, blocking the view of prying neighbours and nosy townspeople. He ran his fingers through his hair, working through the knots and tangles that had developed in the medium-length locks. He hissed as a claw snagged a larger tangle, slowly working through it until it was separated and smoothed down. He sighed. He needed to clean himself up anyway. Might as well get it over with.

He took off his long-sleeved shirt in a hurry once he arrived in his bedroom, looking at the dark grey fabric sadly. No, he wasn't crying; there was dust in his eyes. His claws scraped along the endstone tiles as he tossed the shirt in the hamper, grabbing a light green t-shirt from the drawer. Sure, it was going to be colder, but he couldn't bear seeing that shade of grey. It was the colour Exano had been wearing this afternoon. Honestly, he'd be fine not wearing the colour grey again for the rest of his life.

Xisuma peeled off the bandages over his code-scar, exposing the navy tear crossing his face. He touched the inflamed skin around the stitches, wincing at the irritation. Sighing, he grabbed a bottle of modified water from the bag the healers had given him, dampening a cloth and using it to clean the edges of the wound. He hissed as it burnt the sensitive areas of his skin despite the reduced effects of the liquid.

At least natural End bugs or glitches wouldn't corrupt his code. He's unprepared to deal with infections; he should learn that at some point. However, he has more pressing things to deal with. His internal clock ticks steadily toward "nightfall", so he replaced the bandages, running a hand through his greasy hair. He sighed, rubbing purified endstone dust through it and turning it four shades lighter. The next few minutes were spent shaking it out, along with the grime the dust snatched up.

A knock on the front door. He pulled the t-shirt over his head, giving his medium-length hair another shake before going to answer it. The middle elder stood outside with a parcel in hand, standing stiffly a few metres away from the door. He opened the door fully, gesturing respectfully to the interior.

The elder shook her head, extending the hand with the parcel in it toward him. "A gift for you. I hope your recovery is swift. The healers suggested that you take the rest of today off, along with tomorrow."