Hermitcraft Oneshots

Lost In The Void (PT 2)

Hey! This is part two of the Welsknight series. I suggest you read the first part before you read this.
I also might dabble with some different POV's, idk. Tell me if you don't like it.

———

Third Person POV

When Wels felt the tap on his shoulder, he was a bit surprised, but grew a small smile. So he wasn't the only one.

Soon his smile disappeared though, "that's pretty cool," he said, brushing some of his dirty, dirty blond hair out of his eyes.

Xisuma has a worried look, "I'm.. sorry. My shifts almost over. Why don't you catch some rest upstairs, I'll be there in a few hours and you can clean up in a stream nearby."

Wels nodded, and stood up. "Thank you so much for your hospitality." He bowed his head in respect. He then unlatched his light coin purse, and put it on the counter. "Twenty seven gold marks, it's not very much but its what I have."

He then retreated upstairs, not letting Xisuma refuse his offer.

———

Wels' POV

As I walked upstairs, fatigue hit me like a train. I didn't even realize how exhausted I was until my head hit the pillow.

When my head hit the pillow, a few things happened.

The world turned black, and blissfully nightmare free. But soon, the black was shattered, and I was brought back to reality.

From downstairs, There was a small crash, followed by the clang of metal and scrape of something metallic against something metallic, the sounds of a small skirmish, then the unmistakable scent of fear.

I quickly grabbed my only valuable possession, my sword, and hastily affixed it to my back while swiftly walking down the stairs. When I got down, I saw a man fall, something had stabbed him in the back. He was clad in the armor of a Viligan.

Xisuma fell to his knees in shock, quickly grabbing the man and assuring a fare decent. Blood stained the floor, and Xisuma put his hands over the Villigan's chest. No breaths.

His eyes started to grow teary, and he covered his mouth in shock.

———

Xisuma's POV

It had been around three hours since I had seen Wels disappear up the stairwell. I had assumed he was asleep, which was all well and good, for he needed sleep more than he would admit.

The bells had chimed out that the time was Eight AM, a reasonable hour to be up, so I wasn't all too surprised when someone walked in. I cast my glance up from the sheet I was working on, and waved, "how can I hel.." my smile faded when I saw his apparel.

He was a Villigan, a ruthless warrior sent by a ruthless emperor. The only objective was to conquer more land. That usually meant bloodshed, but in the end, they just stuck their flag in the ground, and left. I wasn't too afraid, Villigans were people too.

"..p you." I finished, keeping my voice even.

The man gripped the sword at his waist, looking at me with suspicion, as his eyes cut holes in my chest through his helmet.

He spoke in a dull and bored tone, and his accent was of the same kin. Dull. It pulled out his words to a pitch that was unbearable to listen to for prolonged amounts of time. As he spoke, it distorted through his mask, adding a metallic undertone to his words.

"We are currently looking for a man, Sir Welsknight. We caught word he was moving north, have you heard this name?" He said, leaning his broad shoulders back as he looked around the tavern.