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lunarsands · 2 months

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Multi-SMP Fanfic: Which Fate’s Fairest To Us All – Ch 5

Characters: Mythical Sausage (1st), Rusty the Copper Golem, PearlescentMoon, Scott Smajor (1st), Mythical Sausage (2nd), Hermes, Mythical Sausage (3rd), Scott Smajor (2nd), Rocky the Goblin, and a couple of briefly mentioned cameos at the end!

WARNINGS: Character death (but they get better because Afterlife/New Life rules are in play), body horror

Chapter Summary: Things are literally heating up for the group in the labyrinth. Meanwhile, Smajor has an encounter with a changed Sparrow. Myth undergoes an unexpected transformation, but it seems to be just what’s needed to deal with the mutated Warden… and more. (Hi I’ve been brainfried and realized after I’d posted the other chapters that they could use their own summaries)

Sequel to Mirror Tenfold, Beyond the Wall and follows sometime after the events of Thou, O Kings, Fair Be You All.

(Also available on Ao3!)

[ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ] [ Chapter Three ] [ Chapter Four ]

Chapter Five

The scene at the battle site was quite fiery, indeed. Hermes hovered above, dodging fireballs and baiting Wardens to go after him, then neatly avoiding them once getting them lined up perfectly for a shot from Myth or the Ghast Mage. There were now six Wardens including the one Myth had initially targeted. The sounds behind him had gotten the phoenix’s attention, and while he did try to deliver a crippling blow to the first Warden’s legs, it hadn’t taken long for it to lumber over and join the others.

Not all of them were infested with mycelium. At least three were normal Wardens, although it was getting difficult to tell which one was which with all the fire and smoke in the air. Hermes was doing his best to be mindful of both. Eventually, though, he needed to land to get below the smoke line. He chose a spot behind the Ghast Mage since Myth was turning into a raging ball of fire once again.

The Ghast Mage looked no less angry. His face was streaked with tears, flames spewing from his lips as he yelled, “Phoenix! Aim for the sculk, too!” He turned his runny eyes to Hermes. “You, too – if you can use your lightning to spark a fire on that stuff!”

“I’ll give it a try,” Hermes said. “But are you going to be alright?”

Ghast-sage stifled a cough. “No choice! He can’t handle these things alone, even if he is able to regenerate so fast!”

As if on cue Myth’s form went up in a burst of bright flames – yet this time they were tinged blue. Hermes frowned. “He’s burning hotter every time. I don’t think that’s a good sign.”

“Worry about it later. We’ve got to stop any more of them from climbing out. TIME TO BURN EVERYTHING, BOYS!!” Ghast-sage dashed to the nearest sculk patch and uttered a ghastly shriek as he began pummeling it with fireballs.

Hermes pinched his lightning bolt earring for luck, hoping the alignment frequency remained sturdy, then gathered some power around himself and the trident’s tines. He pointed them at a Warden who was stumbling toward the Ghast Mage and unleashed a bolt strong enough to knock it off its feet.

The Warden struggled to regain its balance, giving Hermes time to direct a bolt at one of the Wardens closing in on Myth, who was peppered with bright blueish-white flames from his latest revival.

This time the glow surrounding his feathers faded to yellow instead of orange.

Just then Scott popped into view, distracting Hermes from his concern. Ghast-sage gestured to himself before pointing from one sculk patch higher up on the wall to one across from it, then to a third near the ground. As they teleported off on that route, Hermes took it as a sign to target any patches except those three – as well as any Wardens who got in the way. The senses of the creatures seemed to have been thrown off by the explosions all over the place, so Hermes decided to cause a few localized thunderclaps to add to the auditory chaos, making one or another Warden turn toward that sound and give Myth a chance to retreat elsewhere.

Not that he seemed inclined to retreat, or move to any spot clear of danger.

When not trying to set Wardens on fire, he was swooping toward patches of sculk and incinerating as much as he could in one touch. He had even managed to use a few beats of his blazing wings to sear moss hanging off the Wardens’ antennae. Concern returned to Hermes as he wondered if the phoenix would turn himself into an inferno to deal more damage.

The roars of agony from the Wardens were beginning to be swallowed up by the sound of whooshing fireballs and Myth’s own snarls. Hermes was glad his father wasn’t close enough to feel the scorching heat. Soon enough even the Staff might be at risk of igniting.

Within minutes of Scott’s arrival, the majority of the sculk patches were eliminated. Hermes had taken down two of the Wardens, while Myth had killed at least three. He was on the last one now, intent on dishing out one or more of his kamikaze bursts of blinding fire. His feathers retained a blueish tint after the latest one, white flames remaining along his arms as well as coming off the corners of his eyes.

Myth glanced around rapidly, hunting for more sculk or remaining Wardens. Scott and the Ghast Mage reappeared; Ghast-sage collapsed onto his backside on the ground, sighing in exhaustion, while Scott opened a bundle and hastily began eating to replenish his powers.

The lot of them went deathly still as they heard a splattering sound.

Somewhere, a patch of the bizarre sculk remained.

Above.

It was somewhere above. They witnessed more sculk vein hit the ground near to where the Ghast Mage sat. It spread with insane speed, forcing Scott to grab his friend and teleport out of the way.

They reappeared beside Myth, who continued to emit the blueish flames. Hermes quickly joined them. He flinched when he felt the level of heat radiating off Myth.

The phoenix didn’t notice the reaction, his stare glued to the subsequent bubbling and rapid spread of sculk across the floor. He murmured with genuine worry, “What happened to this place? It was completely abandoned the last time I was here. There’s no way Smajor could have caused all of this in the time we’ve been in that world… Everything was the same here, right down to the messes we left behind when we fought—!”

The ground rumbled louder than ever before, shaking the surroundings with enough force to send debris raining down from the tops of walls again. An arm shot up from the sculk patch, followed by another. They grasped at the floor beyond, leaving deep furrows in the as-yet unsculkified stone.

Then another arm emerged.

Then another.

Two sets of antennae emerged.

A roar rang out, amplified twofold.

A two-headed, four-armed Warden pulled itself out of the sculk. Its body was a twisted combination of blue-black and grayish-purple. Within its exposed ribcage was a warring swirl of turquoise and violet light, with the shapes similar to those of the faces on soulsand violently contorting in frenzied turmoil. Equal amounts of sculk vein and stringy purple moss hung off of it.

It was also gigantic in comparison to the previous Wardens.

Ghast-sage leaned heavily on Scott. “I… I don’t know… how much more… I’ve got in me,” he huffed. He coughed and attempted to stoke up some fire, but all that rose from his palms and mouth were feeble puffs of smoke that immediately dissipated. “We – We need to run.”

To be fair, the direction they needed to go was currently right at their backs.

But there was one problem.

“My dad and Rusty are still back there,” Hermes said, pointing past the mutated Warden.

Scott patted the bundle he had been carrying. “My power is still recharging, but I need to save some of this. I don’t think I can teleport to them and back quickly enough.”

Myth stepped forward, eyes aglow with blueish-white flames. “I’ll just have to fight it to buy enough time.”

~*~

Smajor groaned as he revived for possibly the eighth time since he had… encouraged… Myth to enter the portal. He pulled the strangling sculk vein away from his neck, grateful that it had gone slack when it perceived him to be dead. He had one block of mycelium left under each foot, but it was enough to get him powered up again.

He freed his arms then did a twirl to unwind the rest of the viny sculk vein from around his body. Mycelium appeared with every step, slowly but steadily spreading. Smajor sneered as he kicked the catalyst that had popped up during his previous death. “This stuff is more persistent than Myth is. But I guess I am giving it a perpetual source of death to multiply from.”

He stepped upward on slippery stairs toward the portal, leaving a trail of tiny mushrooms in his wake in order to give the sculk more to overcome before it tried to surge once again. For the twelfth time he pulled off the sculk vein that had gathered over the bottom of the portal frame, sprinkling plenty of mushroom spores along the frame as another deterrent. He had tried a variety of all combinations of magic that was at his disposal. The sculk was relentless. He had begun to wonder what would happen if he let it breach the portal.

He refused to let it. Not until he had some kind of confirmation on Myth’s status.

Not until he saw that hypocritically righteous oaf stumble out, with or without their missing doubles, exhausted from navigating the labyrinth. Smajor had no doubts about Myth finding his way out.

He smiled bitterly to himself. The downside was whether Myth would come back to this world, or go to their original one. Smajor had taken a gamble by tossing his rival into the labyrinth. The first time they had left it – whatever method had been used, since his own urge to kill destroyed any possibility of Myth telling him about it – obviously sent them and their goody-goody doubles back to their own worlds rather than to the same one.

Smajor directed a mushroom to grow large enough for him to sit on, then he relaxed there for the moment, enjoying what was probably going to be a short reprieve from sculk attacks. He had infinite time to wait, after all.

He didn’t bat an eye as he heard something approach from behind him. He merely prepared to slowly rise from his seat, poised to whip his arm around and make the mycelium surge.

An actual if not distorted voice made him pause. “What have you done to our shrine?!”

“Sp-Sparrow?” Smajor wheeled around and stared, shocked that the odd person had ventured this deep. He then squinted for a second, noticing the sickeningly familiar blue-black and turquoise clinging to an otherwise humanoid-looking Sparrow. “Is that you? Weren’t you a copper golem the last time I saw you?”

“When even was that, Scott?” Sparrow challenged, moving up the stairs with unwavering purpose. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in weeks. What have you been doing while sneaking about? Setting up your mushrooms even down here, I see. Well, I won’t stand for it. This is our home!”

“I only see one of you,” Smajor retorted. “And what are you talking about? I’ve been scouting this place for a while and there hasn’t been anyone else around.” He took a step back, then tried to subtly look for the mushroom closest to Sparrow that he could try using to yeet the intruder away if necessary. He didn’t like the intense look in Sparrow’s sculk-altered eyes.

“All of the Deep Dark is our home,” Sparrow insisted. “All of the Ancient Cities are ours. I didn’t start living in this one, but it is part of our network! You have no right to be infesting this place with your overworld fungus!”

“Sparrow,” Smajor said dryly, “I think you’re the one who is infested. You’ve got a little something growing on your cheek, there. And your neck. And both hands. Might want to check your eyes, too. Have you looked at your reflection lately?”

“Don’t mock us, Scott!!”

“Mock who? You’re still the only one I see.” Smajor let a tiny smile slip onto his face. None of these fools even realized their friends had been replaced.

“The sculk, Scott!!” Sparrow’s volume increased along with the distortion in his voice. “We’re not going to stand for being stifled any longer! They told me something was going on in this city! They told me foreign soil had been placed and it was trying to consume them! But we’re stronger than you think. Did you really expect to transform the whole of the Deep Dark into mycelium? Don’t you have enough places to spread your inferior children?”

“Now, now, Sparrow. Mushrooms grow best in low light, damp environments. Surely we can share? You and I are basically relatives.”

Sparrow drew back as if stung. “You’re nothing like us!” He went still for a moment, then a smile of his own crossed his face. “But maybe I can make you like us.”

Smajor raised an eyebrow in doubt over whatever that would entail. He reconsidered two seconds later, however, when Sparrow’s body dissolved into a cloud of sculk spores and rushed at the fungal mage’s face. He flailed, attempting to bat them away, but as they swarmed close to his nose and mouth he inevitably inhaled some of them.

Some then led to all of them as the first ones took control of his body, the spores seeming to flood his brain. Smajor panicked – but only over the possibility that Sparrow might somehow get access to his memories and learn that he wasn’t the real Scott of this world.

He wasn’t sure why he should care about that. If anything, maybe it would scare Sparrow when he learned just who, exactly, he was dealing with.

Smajor let Sparrow walk his body down the stairs, an obvious choice to get Smajor away from the portal. The fungal mage’s powers were temporarily dampened by the possession, but Smajor was very accustomed to being confined inside his own head without any other stimulation – aside from rolling a clock across the floor of an obsidian-lined cell over and over again. Sparrow hadn’t cut off his mental connection to his mana yet, only his ability to manipulate fungus spores.

“I can make you leave,” Sparrow’s voice inside his head threatened. “I can make you walk to a desert, where it’s all blinding light and drought. I can make you walk into an abandoned corner of the Nether and strand you there. I can do whatever I want with you! All I have to do is leave you on the brink of death, and then you’ll become something else that has no power over fungus! What do you say to that?”

Smajor regained control of his mouth muscles, which he used to smirk. Maybe Sparrow couldn’t see the expression for himself, but he might be able to feel it. “Actually, I have a neat trick for just such an occasion! Watch this – and by that I mean you might want to leave my body.” He instantly expelled all of his mana at once, causing every mushroom in a three-meter radius to sprout up to gigantic height. Mycelium spread across the floor to the same distance.

The cloud of spores that was Sparrow ejected itself just before Smajor dropped lifelessly to the ground. Sparrow reformed himself and stared down in shock. His voice came out normal and trembling. “S-Scott? Scott??” No response came from the fungal mage. “W-Why would he do that? I – I thought he was trying to accomplish something here. He – He fought off all the other attempts to stop him, right? That’s why I had to come down here…”

Sparrow clutched at his head. His voice became distorted again. “It doesn’t matter – he doesn’t matter! If that was his choice to avoid being controlled, then so be it! Now we can clean up this mess in peace.” He walked toward the nearest tall mushroom and directed a strand of sculk vein to begin spiraling its way up the stem, corrupting it as it went.

A polite cough behind him made him turn. Sparrow was unbothered; they could easily deal with the intruder regardless of what he had become—

The fungal mage stood up, looking exactly the same. The smirk was back on his face. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m unkillable. What about you, Sparrow? How many lives do you have?”

~*~

Myth hated to admit it but this new Warden was a lot tougher than the others. Each time it swung around it left gouges in the walls on both sides, leaving the floor littered with even more debris. Ghast-sage had rustled up enough power to finish incinerating the new patches of sculk that had cropped up, but afterward Scott had to teleport him to safety.

After a few minutes Scott had returned to teleport very short distances, acting as bait to keep the mutated Warden busy by warping away just as it tried to grab him. Hermes was still doing likewise, although now his zipping through the air was accompanied by zapping the Warden with lightning strikes. Myth was flying low to the ground back and forth around its legs and launching fireballs into its lower body to try to bring it down a level.

When it finally dropped to its knees and slammed two of its arms against the ground to stay up so it could fend off its attackers, Myth allowed a smug smile of victory. Well, at least it wasn’t completely invincible. He did wish they had another offensive hitter available… He swooped around to where Hermes was taking a quick breather. “Hey! Can you see if The Protector is able to use any of his spells yet? They’ll probably be more effective on this thing than the guy we fought that one time – he’ll know what I’m taking about!”

“The Pro— oh, my dad? A-Are you sure you want me to leave you to fight alone?”

“I can handle it,” Myth assured him. He began to look away. “Where’s Scott? Maybe he can get you there—”

He abruptly shoved Hermes hard in the chest, sending the young man stumbling to the side—

And took the brunt of the mutated Warden’s angled sonic shriek himself. It flung Myth into the wall, where he slumped down gulping for breath, his midsection pressed concave. Half a second passed then his body burst into blue-white flames. His silhouette stood up within the fire, then the flames retreated to limn his arms, shoulders, and wings.

Another sonic blast followed. Myth fell back a step but he was too freshly reborn to be taken down so soon.

Hermes launched into the air, trying to distract the Warden by striking its antennae with lightning that forked in a continuous circuit among the four. He could tell that his attunement was starting to diverge from the trident’s frequency; he needed more time where he wasn’t using it. He pinched his gold earring then summoned his reserves to try for a more powerful strike – only to come to a stop as the Warden directed another shriek at Myth.

The phoenix’s revived strength didn’t hold this time. He felt the wind get knocked out of him just as he was releasing a fireball made of the flames that had been clinging to him mere seconds ago. Myth’s field of vision narrowed. Maybe he had taken another hit too soon after reviving? His energy seemed to drain out of him. He looked down at his hands in horror, unable to summon more fire to his fingertips.

The Warden threw its heads back and roared, rattling Myth to the bone. He looked around frantically for a path of escape. The fallen bits of wall appeared to block any avenue past the Warden. His vision darkened further; he couldn’t see any trace of Hermes or Scott, no flashes of lightning or bursts of teleportation sparkles.

Myth berated himself over how he should have asked The Protector sooner about lending some spells. Even a defensive one would be helpful right now. All he could do was drop to his knees and stubbornly face down the Warden while bracing himself for a final blow, whether it be another shriek or a swipe of the Warden’s massive claws as it raised two arms above him.

He was unsure of which it was, but flames engulfed his body once again. As he regained awareness he realized it felt different this time, like it was actually burning him this time.

And then…

His orange feathers were burned away, leaving behind smokey-grey ones. The concept of control over fire fled his mind. It was replaced by a different power that raced through his veins. It was familiar to him and yet long, long removed from the line of abilities that he had been through.

The second in that line.

He spared a single rasping breath to look down at his hands again. They had taken on a bony look – but he still felt strong enough. He briefly clenched his fists then threw himself at the Warden, hands now held outward with fingers poised like talons ready to latch onto prey.

Time to find out if these wither powers still worked like he remembered.

If he could cause an entire church to decay, surely he could do some serious damage to a giant Warden. Myth uttered a loud sound similar to an inverted breath, bringing chills to whoever heard; they were all aware of which creature made that sound.

Or, at least it brought chills to four of them. For Sausage, who had been cautiously but steadily approaching the Warden-riddled battleground, perked up. He didn’t know how one of his old allies would have even gotten there because he was fairly certain he hadn’t created a new pocket reality to even have a Deep Dark, but any help would be appreciated.

However, it was not the robed figure of his ally The Wither of Mythland who was attacking the mutated Warden. It was someone with the appearance of a wither, pale eyes flashing between bright blue and white, with a somewhat skeletal visage but with the stature and aura of someone accustomed to being a powerhouse, unlike The Wither’s reserved manner.

Sausage noted the dark grey wings plus now equally dark grey hair, then caught a glimpse of the singed clothes and face as the figure took to the air, and realized it was Myth. The sight made him mumble, “Is that what happens when a phoenix burns out?” He gripped the Staff of Sanctuary tightly, then glanced around for the others.

To his left Scott and the Ghast Mage, holding each other up, came limping out of a cloud of billowing dust stirred up by the Warden’s wildly swinging attempts to hit Myth as he swooped around both heads, his arms outstretched to either side to try to snag an antenna on his way. Hermes wasn’t immediately visible, which made Sausage worry. A brief yet dim flash of lightning sparked out of a dust cloud that was raining down from one of the walls. A shadow beyond it was revealed when Myth flew past and momentarily cleared the air with his wings.

Sausage recognized the sign of his son’s power waning regardless of trident, but he knew his own capabilities were better spent helping the other two. He whispered a spell that lifted Scott and Ghast-sage off their feet and pulled them toward him into the safety of cover provided by one of the larger fallen pieces of wall. They smiled gratefully.

Sausage then handed Scott another bundle of food while in exchange offering to help the Ghast Mage stand. “That’s the last of it. Chew wisely.” Scott nodded. He quickly downed a cold empanada and saved the rest. The three then directed their attention to the ongoing battle.

The Warden was now short one antenna on each head as well as missing one arm. There was no sign of the appendages, but an ashen gray coating was slowly spreading from the shoulder portion on the Warden’s right side where the arm would have been. No blood or bone was visible, only the creeping decay.

“Ah. Hmm,” Sausage whispered. Might as well not draw the Warden’s attention their way by talking at normal volume. “I came back to help but, uh, I’m pretty sure he’s got this.”

They watched another arm crumble away into drifting ash. Ghast-sage quietly cleared his throat. “You know, I used to worry that my Ghast side made me seem like some kind of monster. I don’t really think that anymore after seeing these two.”

“Hmm.” Sausage uttered the thoughtful sound again. However, this time his tone held disappointment.

The Ghast Mage was oblivious. “I guess that’s wither powers at work. Good thing he’s on our side! Sheesh!”

Scott leaned to say to both of them, “One question. How did he go from a phoenix to a wither? He basically just kept rising from his own ashes from what I saw – figuratively speaking, since he didn’t, like, literally become ashes?”

“But the Warden is,” Sausage and the Ghast Mage pointed out at the same time, their voices blending together.

Scott stared. “Okaaaay. That sounded incredibly weird. Please try not to do that ever again.”

They seemed about to apologize at the same time, too, but then looked at each other and then merely nodded at Scott. The transporter smiled sheepishly back at them before returning his attention to the fight between Myth, the mutated Warden, and occasional small forks of lightning from Hermes.

. Myth attacked the Warden with gusto, yet without the madness that had gripped him when he had previously been a wither. He hadn’t wasted much time wondering why, but maybe it was only because neither Smajor nor the shining seraph were in front of him.

Pieces of the Warden continued to decay like crushed fungus but instead of emitting spores, it was turning into dry dust. It mostly roared and ineffectually flailed its top right remaining arm. Myth allowed himself the high hope that having two heads interfered with its ability to produce a sonic blast in its current beleaguered state. He had been disappointed when the decay didn’t spread from the antennae to either head. He supposed that would have just been too easy.

Right after he landed to its useless left side to take a momentary break, his attention was ensnared by a popping sound coming from high on the Warden’s remaining shoulder. A patch of roiling sculk had appeared there. To Myth’s horror, multiple strands of sculk vein slid out of it and began to form a net – or a bandage – over the damaged cavity beneath it. The glitter of regular sculk bubbled up between the strands.

Myth grimaced. The mutated Warden could regenerate itself.

Of course it wasn’t just going to be that easy.

He needed to figure out how to bring it down before all of its limbs reformed, which would leave it less distracted so it could dish out sonic screams again. As he sought an attack plan he saw the roiling sculk surface on the left side of its chest, oozing toward its damaged shoulders. “Hermes!” Myth called. “Distract it a little longer! I need to—”

The Warden sharply jerked toward Myth’s location; its auditory senses were apparently unhindered by the lack of antennae. As it did so, its intact arm smacked into Hermes, knocking him to the ground. The contact with a solid form as well as the involuntary cry Hermes let out when he met the ground made the Warden turn again. Hermes struggled back to his feet quick enough, but the Warden’s upper arm was already raising above him to smash him flat.

A greenish-golden dome of transparent light formed from out of the ground to encapsulate Hermes. The Warden’s fist bounced off of it, the sheer force of its own strike causing the creature to totter backward from the recoil. Sausage’s voice carried over the distance. “¡¡CORRE CORRE CORRE!! ¡¡ESE CABRÓN TE VA A MATAR!!”

An unexpected pang of panic shot through Myth’s chest. He needed to take this Warden down now. He frantically racked his brain for a way to boost his powers. He ran into a road block of memories tainted by madness; his instincts kept circling back to causing decay. Destroying from the outside. Bring it down, bring it all down, collapse the whole church onto the head of the thieving angel—

He forcibly gasped out loud to break himself from the soul-deep scar of that moment. He couldn’t rely on his own experience of being a wither anymore. But… there were other memories he could attempt to access. Not his. Ones exchanged by accident without his permission. Yet maybe, just a glimpse of events in a parallel life—

He mentally shifted his own perception aside, allowing his mind to relive the ones experienced by his opposite, the shining seraph, who selfishly took a glance into Myth’s soul and memories all just to locate a portal.

Myth’s eyes turned completely white. He launched himself directly at the Warden’s chest, hands held out with palms flat rather than curling his fingers to grab. He had no idea how this was going to feel, or what effect it would have on him – dread had accompanied the borrowed memories, but the process of extracting soul energy was burned into them.

And a Warden’s open chest showcased quite a large number of souls.

Myth shoved his palms directly into the ribcage cavity. He had no intention of pulling them out to eat them, instead focusing on absorbing their energy into his skin much like he could do with fire as a phoenix, and as a blazeborn, and as an angel before his fall. That memory of his own incited his rage. He let out the bone-chilling sound of a newly formed wither again, then began to both exude his power of decay and draw the soul energy into himself, creating a loop that ramped up the speed of the decay. The Warden roared—

The roar abruptly cut off as the light within its chest went out. The behemoth collapsed, its body rapidly overtaken by the decay, leaving it to crumble in on itself and leaving Myth to stand over the pile of dust, suffused by the glow from the energy he was still in the process of absorbing. The shapes of forlorn souls writhed throughout this glow, making him a grim figure, indeed.

The others were hesitant to approach. Hermes was still lying under the protective shield, although he did stare through it at Myth in astonishment. The phoenix-turned-wither calmly pivoted toward the larger group, lowering his arms to his sides to show that he hadn’t lost his mind and wasn’t going to pull out their souls next. The ghostly forms orbiting around him disappeared one by one, furtively being absorbed into his palms when they passed behind him. He had decided this was a less morbid way than capturing them two at a time in each hand and eating them to get them out of the way faster.

It was only after all of the souls were gone that Ghast-sage approached with a companionable grin. “Well, if we weren’t related by fire before, we sure are brothers in Nether now! That was awesome! You took that thing down like it was nothing!” He attempted to clap Myth on the shoulder in congratulations and perhaps also to show he didn’t fear the other, but Myth stepped back with a nervous look. The Ghast Mage yanked his hand away. “Oh, sorry! I should have asked first if, um, touching you might make me turn into dust or get my soul sucked out! Uh, no offense.”

Myth shook his head. His hands clenched into tight fights, trembling slightly even though he knew what he said next was the truth. A lingering remembered fear that wasn’t his own echoed through his head. “I have to be actively using these powers that way, and it’s only if I touch something. It’s safe to touch me. …I just… don’t…”

“Sorry sorry sorry,” the Ghast Mage blubbered. “Let me, ah, say thank you instead! And let’s get out of here before anything else shows up to kill us!”

Myth nodded. He went about searching for a stable part of the wall they had been traversing, passing Sausage as he dispelled the shield and lent Hermes a supportive arm. Ghast-sage retrieved Rusty, then trailed after Myth until an ideal section was found. Scott and Hermes then worked together again to get everyone onto the top of the wall.

This time Myth accepted the transporter’s help.

The rest of their journey proceeded without issue. Myth kept folding his wings in tightly, perhaps subconsciously bothered by the sight of them and what they meant for him going forward, only to loosen them a moment later either in anticipation of maintaining his balance or of flying ahead to confirm that they were going the correct way. He was glad that at least he still had feathers this time and actual flight rather than bare wing bones and the limited hovering capabilities of a real wither.

On his final glide he was able to spy the cluster of portals. He circled a few times, pointing downwards to signal the others that he had found their destination, then he perched on the wall nearest to the best spot to get down from. There seemed to be fewer portals than he remembered, though many still hung at different heights and overlapped in front of others by just enough margin that someone could pass between their positions. Maybe his warning to the Superhero had paid off, and word was getting around the multiverse somehow, leading to the portals on the other side to be destroyed.

A much more dismal realization came to haunt him: maybe the worlds on the other side of those missing portals had been destroyed. How would his warning have spread, anyway? The thought ate at him as he checked if the others were close to reaching him, it continued to do so as he glided down to the ground alone.

He had an idea on how to rectify that situation, which he would keep to himself for the time being. He switched his focus to the portals that were still there, attempting to orient himself among them. It took some deliberation because he couldn’t recall which of the missing portals had overlapped in what positions near others. He knew, of course, that the shining seraph had utilized the soul energy of an additional person to get attuned to the matching portal’s energy… but he was on his own to find his.

Not that he had plans to leave Smajor where he was. This was just for the sake of reference.

Really, it was.

As Scott appeared in a flurry of orange particles to create his anchor point then immediately disappeared to begin ferrying the others down, Myth managed to find the best angle to see two portals that lined up perfectly across from each other. This didn’t guarantee that one of them led back to his world; if he and the shining seraph were opposites of each other, it was possible that there were other sets of Mythical Sausages who had opposite fates. He amused himself with the thought of the Superhero clashing with a villainous version of himself.

While Scott was off retrieving the last person – Sausage – Hermes drifted down by himself while holding the Staff of Sanctuary, the trident stashed at his back again. He leaned on the Staff once his feet touched the floor. He smiled wearily at Myth then gazed around in wonder at the cluster of portals. Myth held a hand out to the young man. “I need to test something.” Hermes offered the Staff on the assumption Myth wanted it back, but the phoenix-turned-wither shook his head. “No. Your hand.” Myth did realize that the Staff would probably serve the same purpose, but there was another reason for the test.

Hermes complied, shifting the Staff to lean on it with one hand while grasping Myth’s hand with the other. Myth mentally braced himself—

But there was no need. He didn’t experience a flood of memories being exchanged. Rather, he saw a solid gold sphere at the young man’s core. It was ringed by orbiting lines that were colored in two different shades of green, intersecting each other diagonally. An occasional spark of purple lightning dancing along each ring in turn.

With eyes glowing white, Myth peered around at the portals. One to his right, suspended about two meters off the ground, had green light sparkling within the gemstones the same shade as one of the rings around Hermes’ soul. Myth released the young man’s hand and reached to touch the Staff. He glanced at the portal again; now the light in the gemstones was the other shade of green.

When Myth let go of the Staff the light faded out. He pointed at the identified portal. “Stand over there. That one goes to your world.”

“How can you tell?” Hermes asked curiously as he walked over to it.

“It matches your soul.” Myth turned away before Hermes could ask anything else. He strode over to where Scott, Sausage, and the Ghast Mage were staring agog at all the portals. The last was holding Rusty to keep him from wandering off. Myth eyed Sausage for a moment. He didn’t need a third confirmation, and he was reluctant to touch the Protector using his soul-viewing power anyway, but an urge itched at the back of his mind.

Maybe that same urge is what had driven the shining seraph to grab Myth’s hand and steal a glance into his soul beyond just using the connection to identify a portal.

Myth waved for Sausage to follow him partway to where Hermes stood. Then he took a breath. “I just… want to doublecheck. If Hermes and the Staff both have celestial origins, I might not be right.” He steeled himself, then held a hand out to Sausage.

When the Protector accepted, it was not his soul that stunned Myth but the fact that two portals resonated with Sausage’s energy. The expected one matched exactly the same as with Hermes and the Staff, but another – directly vertical above it – also stood out, yet in a horrifically different way. All of the gemstones were broken, lifeless; what had drawn Myth’s gaze to it in the first place was the stuttering magenta lightning that flashed erratically along the frame, bringing emphasis to the red substance filling cracks in the stone holding the shattered gemstones.

Myth had the gut-wrenching feeling that this was what a portal that led to a destroyed reality looked like.

He made himself blink the power away, then let go of Sausage to gesture at Hermes. “Uh, yeah, still the same. Go over there. And I guess now we see if I, uh, locate a different one when I check with them.”

Sausage nodded, although Myth didn’t see the motion since he had already turned to hurry over to the other three. He also didn’t see the rueful expression on Sausage’s face as he peered upward, having noticed Myth’s head tilting when he became aware of the desolate portal.

Oblivious that he had actually given away his shock but needing to process the unsettling revelation, Myth pushed a reluctant sigh out of his lungs before regarding Scott, Ghast-sage, and Rusty. He couldn’t be sure if a soul connection would work on Rusty. He didn’t want to see the soul of someone who resembled Smajor. That left the Ghast Mage, along with another possible risk of sharing memories. He had already assumed that Sausage’s powers had prevented him from finding out anything else about that second portal.

Myth’s gaze fell on Ghast-sage’s vambrace with its opaque green crystal. The metal was tarnished by burns in a few places but intact otherwise. He wondered if it really did have any other significance beyond a piece of armor.c

“What’s wrong with you?!”

Rusty’s exclamation broke Myth from his thoughts. Out went his hand toward the Ghast Mage. “Give me your hand for a second.”

Ghast-sage adjusted Rusty so he was resting on his hip, freeing up an arm. He was warier than Hermes had been, but then he carefully clasped Myth’s hand. He gasped as a jolt shot through his mind.

Rusty leaned to place a hand over theirs.

Myth pushed away an invading mirrored memory of stumbling out of a Nether portal into the unfamiliar overworld and turned his once-again glowing eyes to the assortment of portals. Due to a blank portal that happened to be situated at the exact inconvenient angle to block it from where they stood, he almost missed the dim series of six colors that oscillated over the surface of the gemstones. It was only when Myth began walking – Ghast Mage in tow – to have a better view that he caught the shimmer of the lights.

“There,” he muttered, letting go of Ghast-sage to use that hand to point at the portal. It was a slight distance to the right of where Hermes and Sausage stood.

“Okay,” Rusty responded, holding onto the front of the Ghast Mage’s robes while his creator stood dumbfounded, apparently processing the shared experience now rattling around his mind.

It was Scott who asked, “‘There’, what?”

“Your portal home,” Myth clarified.

“How do you know for sure?” Scott asked next. He took Ghast-sage by the elbow to steer him toward the indicated spot.

“Wither’s intuition. …I can match soul energy to the world it came from by touching someone. That’s how the other me I met here found the way out.”

Seeing that a major conversation might be about to get underway, Sausage cast a spell that outlined the closer of his portals with golden light, then he and Hermes headed over to listen.

“About that…” Scott decided to go forward with the very question he had been pondering earlier. “How or even why did you turn into a wither? And what were you doing to the Warden that didn’t look like normal withering?”

Myth didn’t know if this was the best time to divulge the labyrinth’s secret influence but there was no way to guess what they might walk into on the other side of the portal where Smajor could be waiting. “This place can unlock someone’s past abilities. It didn’t happen to me last time, but it did happen to the version of me and you that I met here. They came in with one set of powers each and during our fight with them, they regained all the ones they had before. … I’ve been a wither before, but I’ve been over two dozen things since then. I think they only had three or four at that point in their timeline.”

“Wait, back up,” Scott held his hands out in a halting gesture. “From the sound of things, I thought it was you and them fighting Smajor?”

“Smajor and I were both very disagreeable at the time and didn’t trust our doubles. Or, well, I didn’t trust them. Judging by those first holes in the walls we came across, Smajor – predictably – must have attacked my double thinking it was me. They were both gravitals at the time, so it’s no wonder they were leaving craters after throwing each other into the floor and through walls. All that mess you saw back there, where we all met up – that was mostly done by me and Smajor. I was a blazeborn back then, so all I did was burn stuff.

In a tone trying to bring some levity Sausage commented, “You’ve got a theme going on with that, huh?”

“I’ve been the opposite a few times, just so you know,” Myth informed him. “Where I’m from, what you become next after you die is completely random. Except for the time right after we left the labyrinth and Smajor killed me the first chance he got. I became a seraph that time. I… let the power go to my head, because I started as a guardian angel, and it was like the ultimate promotion, so I went ahead dishing out what I thought was appropriate retribution.” Myth was rambling now, the full story pouring out of him. His brain felt like a swirl of emotions that he couldn’t contain; it soon dawned on him that it might have something to do with the vast variety of souls he had absorbed.

He made no effort to stop the tide of words.

~*~

To Be Concluded in [ Chapter Six + Epilogue ]

~*~*~

Translations:

“¡¡CORRE CORRE CORRE!! ¡¡ESE CABRÓN TE VA A MATAR!!” - “RUN RUN RUN! THAT BASTARD IS GOING TO KILL YOU!!”

#alsmp #nlsmp #empires smp #alsmp fanfic #nlsmp fanfic #empires smp fanfic #mythicalsausage #scott smajor #empires hermes #mythical sausage #new life smp #lunar yarns #soul liminality

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