[✔] Someone Named Xelqua (Hermitcraft Fanfiction)

XLIX.

(Guys...? You're going to have to drag me across the finish line for this book- *collapses from exhaustion*)

Is gasping for breath the normal thing you do when you come back from perma-death? Scratch that, coming back from perma-death isn't normal in the first place.

When I came to, I gasped for air and jolted upright. My vision was blurry again, and it seemed like someone pressed pillows over my ears. The pain hit me, stabbing at my body with no mercy.

"G-Grian?" I vaguely heard from somewhere near me. From the back, someone squeezed their arms around my body as if I were going to disappear. I only groaned in pain in response. "H-how-"

"If you don't try to heal me I am going to die," I said in one quick breath. My eyelids were heavy, but I couldn't fall unconscious. Not now.

They- probably Mumbo- laid me on my back, calling the rest of the Hermits over. At first, I heard no indication of anyone coming closer. The next moment, Joe and False were bent over me, healing me to the best of their ability.

In no time, bandages were wrapped around my body, healing potions were forced down my throat, and too many questions were being asked. The only sounds that came out of my mouth were pathetic whimpers.

"Oh goodness, that's something else," Iskall's voice weakly wheezed somewhere to my left. Cue the screeches of surprise, causing a large headache to form behind my eyes in record time.

"Heal him, please," I muttered, my head limply turning to the side. They were already on it, thankfully.

My eyes roamed the End, the purple swirly voice filling most of my vision. A few stalks of chorus fruit, a pile of rubble from the Facility, the Hermits popping in and out of my vision...

EX was standing on the edge of the island, numbly staring into the void. From afar, I watched as he paced back and forth, occasionally peering over the edge and into the abyss.

My voice from what felt like eons ago (it was really only five days) suddenly rang in my head.

The void is the most painful place to be in Minecraft. It's a quick death, but extremely painful.

I rolled onto my stomach with a grunt. Mumbo tried to push me down. I pointed a frantic finger towards EX. His eyes widened, comprehending my panic.

Scrambling to my feet, I released a cry of pain. Mumbo hooked his arm around my body, helping me stand. I pushed myself towards EX, staggering and hissing in pain as my legs stung like a thousand needles stabbing me. It was only twenty or so blocks, but it felt like over a hundred.

I grabbed EX's wrist, jerking him away from the edge. He tried pulling away, but I leaned back. We both toppled over, falling to the endstone floor.

"Ezra Xanthusvoid- what do you think you're doing?" I yelled. He snapped his head towards me, pulling away and screaming in fear. "Goodness me, I'm not that ugly, am I?" I said in a lower volume. I crossed my arms as he fell to his side.

"How in Minecraft are you- Grian Xelqua- wha- Grian!" He poked my shoulder, checking if I'm physical. After a long and hard stare into my eyes, he threw his arms around me. I grunted in pain but returned the hug nonetheless.

"I thought- I thought I lost my first friend," he scolded me, pulling away and harshly glaring at me. I held my hands up in a surrendering gesture. Mumbo caught up, holding his hand out to me. I pulled myself up, almost staggering past him. Mumbo looped his arm around my shoulders, keeping me on my feet. I nodded a silent thanks as he helped me walk back to the other Hermits with EX trailing behind us.

As we walked, I looked up at the remains of the Facility. The main room was still intact (though half in ruins). The four strong support pillars must have been the only reason it was still standing.

One of the intricate stained glass windows was shattered at the bottom. It was definitely where I was thrown from the building. Shaking my head to myself, the shock of returning from perma-death seems to have worn off slightly.

Iskall had been healed by the time Mumbo helped me back. All the other Hermits had already gathered their items and recovered the best they could.

The students, if Xisuma had followed the plan, were sent to wherever the admins dealt with their problems. Xisuma said they would not harm them, but considering what the other Watchers had been doing, I'm not so sure I trust what he said. After all, Watcher magic and admin magic are polar opposites.

Looking over to where my former instructor was, the only thing left was his splintered staff. I bent down and picked it up, slipping it into my inventory. It was left near the-

The box of pictures... it was still in my inventory. Mumbo's going to have a kick out of that.

"Xisuma, if you would," I said, a small smile forming at that thought, "Sahara's courtyard, please." A brief look of surprise flashed in his eyes before he held his hand up. Xisuma strained under the magic he used, but eventually, a portal leading to Hermitcraft formed, just like the one we used to get here.

~¤☆¤~

"My goodness, you guys look like you went through a blender," Tango breathed, stepping forwards and helping Joe stand. He was caught in the second explosion. Stress covered her mouth as she and Cleo caught a collapsing False. Doc pushed Scar and Ren away, but fell to his knees. He was forced to accept help from the two. Xisuma and EX were both still on their feet, (although slightly swaying). Iskall was his usual happy self, though he looked half dead on his feet.

Thankfully, no one was injured to the point of unhealable.

Back at Stress's base, she fussed around, giving each of us at least three healing potions. She also said she would make sure we would sleep. At first, I didn't want to sleep off the injury and headache. But, at the rest of the Hermit's insistence of me getting rest, I let myself drift off into the wonderful realm of sleep.

~¤☆¤~

When I had finally recovered to Stress's liking, Mumbo and I sat in my base as the other Hermits relaxed and recovered elsewhere. Mumbo had his eyes narrowed at the pictures that lay spread out on the stockpile of shulker boxes. It seemed like he had conflicted emotions, as his expression would change every few seconds.

Chuckling to myself, I crossed my legs on the shulker box I was sitting on. Mumbo turned to me, leaning on one of the boxes.

"So- uh, I kindly ask you to not pull off any more stunts like that," Mumbo said, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know how much more my heart can take." He looked back at me with that mischievous glint from ages ago. A quiet chuckle escaped my lips as I shook my head.

"I wasn't planning on it, Mumbo. Wasn't planning on it."