In Exile, We Rise. (Discontinued, No longer being re-written, see last chapter)

Chapter 9: How we grow

The blazing sun beat down on (Y/N)s back, and she walked across the plains, carrying her items through the heat of the day. The sleeves of her shirt rolled up, revealing scars gained through years of isolation and work, and her feet shoeless, to cool off just a little bit more.

Sweat dripped down her brow, the waves of heat rolling around her were nearly unbearable. In the distance, she saw the line of trees, and the mountainside she'd made her home. 

Nearly three days had passed since she'd awoke there, and by the second day, she'd already gotten iron tools and was ready to make a compass. that meant finding Redstone, a material that took many hours to find a speck of; a rare material, but a very valuable one. 

(Y/N) had been extending and digging in the mine she'd used to get the iron, but had run out of a few things, like food, sticks, and wood, and had to go out and get more. And she was glad to take a break after nearly falling to her death from a ravine, running into a zombie horde, and almost passing out thanks to a lack of nutrition.

All in all, things were going great. 

It's been a while since she'd been alone like this. (Y/N) must have lost touch with her ability to cope with impending isolation and negative thoughts.

Then again, she didn't have her cat with her now.

'Wait, my CAT!' She thought panicking. It'd been so long since she'd seen Blueberry; she didn't know if the animal was ok, or if it was even alive.

Thinking it over for a moment, she rationalized that her companion was probably fine and that one of her friends on Pogtopia was taking care of her if she wasn't already taking care of herself. The damn animal was exceedingly smart too.

Thumpk

The sound of a small tap gained her attention. Looking to the river at her side, she saw a familiar item floating down the current.

Quickly setting down the sticks and bag of food, she ran into the water, reaching for the item. 

Pulling it up to look at it better, a soft smile rose to her face. It was one of immense sadness and pain. 

"What are the odds," She said to herself, "I guess it's fate."

Her mask had floated down the river, but it looked different. The two triangles along the cheeks oh her own mask had seemingly melted, connecting with two lines to see though, where the holes of her's would be.

This wasn't her mask. It still bore her family symbol, the blue crescent moon, in the center of the forehead area, but this one wasn't hers.

She recognized it as one of the masks she'd given to her sibling, as a gift for their birthday. It was the only other mask she'd ever made after they pestered her for one for so long. 

Slinging the sticks and food back onto her back, she set the mask on her side, her belt holding it in place as she traveled. 

She arrived at her small home, the hole in the mountainside that she lived in. She put the food that needed to be cooked into the three furnaces along the wall and set down the sticks and wood in a corner. She sat for a moment on the bed she'd made, thinking back to when she sat with Wilbur, and how they spoke of each other's pasts, their presents, and silently hoped for their futures.

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"What is the history of Manburg, Wilbur?" (Y/N) asked, turning to him as they walked through the plains together, taking a moment to spend time together. For them, it came almost randomly, yet they both longed for a chance to know each other more.