Memory Loss- A Hermitcraft AU DISCONTINUED, OLD
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- Parts 10
Ongoing46m
Last published Fri, Mar 25, 2022
Xathan wakes up in a world called Hels with no memory. They only remember two things, their name is Xathan and a face. A man with brown hair a bright blue eyes, wearing a smile. Xae knows that he must be important but has no idea why.
___
In the comments please use tone indicators.
There is some shipping in this, if you don't like that then don't read. I also drew the cover myself, I'm not a great artist and that is clearly a flame on the cover lol
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#986
ex
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Vexes and Watchers have always gone hand in hand-though not in harmony. The prevailing legend among the players tells of a twisted bond: Vexes, once majestic creatures of the in-between, reduced to little more than violent, shimmering wraiths-pets, tools, weapons-kept on a short leash by the Watchers. Most say it's abuse cloaked in obedience. Others say it's the only language these winged terrors understand. So, when a newly ascended young Watcher is given two Vexes-his first real assignment-he braces himself. He expects snarling, snapping, eyes glowing with fury and betrayal. He's read the files. Heard the tales from seasoned Watchers who boast about broken wings and conquered spirits. He's even seen footage of rogue Vexes ripping through entire bases in bloodlust. But what he gets... is different. They're small. Smaller than expected. One clings to the corner of the room, wings drooping like torn silk, eyes flickering with dim, uncertain light. The other keeps low to the ground, trembling any time the Watcher so much as breathes too sharply. Neither of them meets his gaze. Neither of them hisses, or screams, or attacks. They're kind. Gentle. One even offers him a fractured flower-where it got it, he doesn't know. They're afraid of him, but not angry. Not volatile. It's not submission... it's survival. And he doesn't understand. He's not used to Vexes being soft. He's not used to being feared like that. And the more he observes them-how they sleep curled up together for comfort, how they flinch at sharp sounds, how they whisper in a language only they know-the more questions bloom. Were the stories wrong? Were the others lying? Or had the Vexes only ever shown their claws because the Watchers never gave them a reason to sheath them? He begins to wonder: are they monsters at all? Or just victims with wings?
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