[✔] Someone Named Xelqua (Hermitcraft Fanfiction)

XXXII.

I was falling, arms spread and facing downwards. I could be anywhere in the server since I didn't leave on my own. I cursed in Galactic, uttering one of the worst words in Minecraft history for the first time.

Because I was so high up, I couldn't see my own hands. They glitched in and out of existence sporadically. I groaned, realizing this would take forever. Tucking my wings into my back, I free-fell, wind rippling through my hair.

After falling for a few minutes, the green outline of trees appeared. Right under me was the ocean. Xisuma's base was visible about a hundred blocks away. With the little energy I had left, I forced myself into a diving position, arms pointed to the water. I took a deep breath, and entered the ocean.

The open wounds on my body seared with pain from the salt water.

I tried, I really did. I tried to get to the surface for oxygen, but my body was still in pain from the ribs and ankle, and when Yavin broke into my mind. My limbs wouldn't cooperate with me. They wouldn't move.

Under the water, I pitifully tried to pull myself up. I needed oxygen. I was going to drown.

A trident pierced my back, making me waste my breath on screaming in pain. Another trident impaled my side, causing me to accidentally take a breath. As I choked on the water, I crumpled the drowned with a squeeze of my fist.

My sinuses and lungs burned, quickly filling with water. I tried exhaling to get the water out of my nose, but I didn't have oxygen to do so. I tried coughing, but I only got more water in my body.

The edges of my vision quickly started to fade, and my movements slowed. It hurt so much, drowning was certainly an option to stop the pain.

It felt like I was floating there for an eternity waiting for my death. Would respawn even work? Would I respawn here, or in the Facility? Would-

I vaguely felt a pair of hands wrap around my waist, pulling me up out of the water. When they broke the surface, their gasp of air reached my ears. They reactivated their elytra, carrying me over their shoulder. As they flew, they hit my back, getting little amounts of water out of my lungs.

I wanted to so desperately move, to land on the ground on my own. But my body and mind was so exhausted. I felt helpless... so useless hanging over their shoulder.

"Come on, Grian, stay with me." A familiar voice said. I couldn't place my finger on who it was...

I whimpered as they roughly landed on what sounded like grass. Panicked yells filled my ears as I was set on the ground. I hacked out all the water in my lungs before anyone could do CPR on me. The water dripped out the sides of my mouth, mixed with some blood.

I limply flopped on the ground, closing my eyes. My entire body was exhausted. Everything still hurts, especially my ribs.

Everyone was shouting. I barely recognized their voices. My ears only picked up a few broken sentences, my sense of hearing fading in and out.

"Does anyone... to heal?"

"Xisuma come here... what happened... him?"

"Where on... was he?"

"Grian, please, don't die. We... we need you... the server wouldn't be the same." Strangely enough, I heard the sentence loud and clear.

I pried my eyes open, only managing to get them open halfway.

Mumbo was sitting on my side, begging for me to live.

"... 'm not gon die..." I muttered, cutting some words off. Mumbo jumped and yelped, not expecting a response. "Yet." I added. He glared at me as I blinked multiple times, trying to clear my vision.

"You're not going to." Mumbo insisted. I groaned, sluggishly moving my arms to cover my face.

"... it feels like I am." I said, voice muffled by my hands.

"You're. Not. Going. To. Die." Mumbo said, punctuating after each word. He pushed a healing potion into my hands. "Drink it please." I did so, but didn't feel any better. Sitting up, I grimaced in pain. The other Hermits started yelling questions, overwhelming me. I stared at the ground, picking at a blade of grass.

"Hey, everyone, calm down please." Xisuma called out over everyone, noticing my overwhelmed expression. "We're going to give him a chance to explain, yeah?" I bit my lip, slowly putting a hand to my forehead. I did not expect to be exposed like this. I had no plan. I had to choose my words on the spot. Am I going to say this, or this? Am I going to hide this, or say that?

I wasn't scared of what they're going to say. They will accept me or not.

What I'm scared of is what the Watchers will do. I might as well be painting a large target on the Hermits' back.

And it might result in a perma-death.

(was that the author foreshadowing? not sure, but we'll see when we get to it.)