Rising Listeners

The Beginning.

Gasps for air, screams of terror, eyes blown out of orbits as they saw their kingdom burn in blue fires. Hands which lay on their shoulders, from behind, fermly hold them grounded on the scorched soil, negating them their freedom, taking away the possibility of saving any last survivor of The Withered. All they could do is stand and watch, as their kingdom died by the hands of someone they left all their trust in.

The owner of the hands leaned forwards to the now lone Prince. Ze whispered in their ear, Zir voice ice cold, poison dripping with every word Ze said.

“You better wake up, Prince Zewi, before the Flames of Souls eat you up.”
——————
Zewi shot upright in their bed, their multiple pupils smaller than the back of a needle. They wondered around the room in which they were resided in since their "Awakening".

The Withered Prince could not sleep— every night the same scene coming back as if it just had happened, and every night they went back to a dreamless sleep.

This time, however, it was different. Zewi lifted the covers off of themselves, and slowly stood up. 

They put on their battle-worn boots— heavy ones, as any Netherite item should be— and slipped inside the chesplate as well. It was adjusted to accommodate the newly earned set of wings they have been gifted by The Watchers (Elura specifically. He was much kinder than his companion, Acheon, and cared for the Prince).

The leggings were long forgotten, as Zewi preferred to wear the Withered' battle skirt instead. As for the helmet... Well, there was no helmet which could be comfortable enough around a Withered' horns. 

A Netherite Sword attached itself at the Prince's hip.

They slowly pushed the bedroom door open, a smooth motion with no leftover creaks. It was impressive, taking into account the doors were eons old. They began to walk along the massive corridors, and analyzed the paintings which covered almost every inch of the walls.

Murals of The Watchers. Acheon and Elura were up front, as always. Around their heads, halos of stars. Behind them, many other Watchers stood, holding their own smaller stars; this time in their hands, rather than around their heads.

‘The stars you see in this mural, Zewi, represent the worlds which we have conquered.’ Acheon planked it out. ‘Ooorrr, the worlds and kingdoms which have decided to worship us! Just like you, Little Star.’ Elura was much more cheeky than his brother, apparently.

Zewi laid their hand over the mural, grazing over it with feather-light touches. Little Star. That was the nickname they earned from Elura. They hated it. Such a cruel joke. A conquered kingdom, a star in their system. The Withered, and their feral brethren, Withers, dropped Nether Stars upon their death.

Such a soulless play of words.

They continued walking along the corridors, eventually stopping when they heard The Watchers' hushed whispers, in a room nearby. They quickly glued themselves to the nearest wall, steadying their breath, and Listened.

“You cannot stand and watch as the moons pass by, Elura! We have got to do something about Zewi and Xeotan immediately.” Ze growled, voice hushed and menacing. “...Those two are too precious to be lost. It is enough that Xelqua ran away already.”

......What? Who ran away? Who the hell was Xelqua??

“I am aware of that, Acheon. That is why,” bottles clinking toghether could be heard. “I brewed these up.” Elura's voice seemed almost... Excited? About what? “Tomorrow morning, at the diner, we shall give the forget-me-not brews to them, instead of their normal beverage. Doesn't that sound delightful, Acheon? They will no longer remember anything from before they became apprentices!”

Zewi's blood ran cold, a sinking punch to the gut. They had to leave, and they had to leave now. They rushed down the corridor, back to their room; on the way summoning papers and quills and writing notes to their fellow Watcher apprentice, and sending them to places they knew only Xeotan would know to check.

When they finally reached their room, they locked the door shut, and sprinted towards their desk— they pulled out a Rose looking pin, jet black and faintly glowing of enchantments. It was a Wither Rose Emblem, only worn by those of the royal family. Their mother had gifted it to them when they were 14. She told them that if they wished hard enough upon it, they would reach a world, a place, in which they could forget their past, and live in the present.

And that, they did. They wished upon the Wither Rose Emblem, which unknowingly to them, contained a fraction of their mother's magic.

The whole room glowed a brief purple, and Zewi was to never be seen again in The Watchers' Realm.
——————
“Hello everyone, and welcome to Hermitcraft Season Se— what in the world is that?” a lighthearted voice asked. It seemed to be male. Possibly British.

“What in the world are you talking about, Sizuma?” deep, throaty speech. Maybe German?

The former pointed to the sky, and the rest of the group looked as well. Someone was falling from the sky, and thumped right in the middle of the group. They all hunched over the person, confused.

“Uhhh.... Shashwami?? Did you invite someone new to Hermitcraft?” the voice was also male, and soft. It reminded Zewi of Elura a bit. The Prince lifted themselves up with a groan, and looked around at the group, wonder in their five, magenta eyes. 

They waved shyly, and looked towards the person that had done the introduction. He wore a yellow armor suit, and had a bee shaped helmet, stinger too. Apparently his name was Sizuma? Or Shashwami?? Sizuma sounded much better as a name. They sucked in a breath, and extended their arm towards the possible leader of the group.

“Hello, my name is Wither Rose. I do not know how I got here but you people seem nice. What's your name?”

The leader in yellow shook their hand fermly, and his eyes were crinkled up behind his helmet— a telltale sign of someone smiling.

“Xisuma. My name is Xisuma. Welcome to Hermitcraft, Wither Rose.”

A grin plastered on the Prince's face. “Please, just call me Wither.”
——————
Knock. Knock knock.

“Zewi? Are you in there, Little Star? Breakfast is ready, and you must present yourself.” Elura readied himself to knock again, but thought against it, instead resting their hand gently on the door. He sighed. “We will be waiting for you, dear.”

Unbeknownst to Elura, or Acheon, or Xeotan, Zewi was not in their room, and would not be there again for a very long time.