#so I’m gonna give Grian one of those when I draw him more human like

[aestheticallynotdeerlightful]

Something something Grian wasn’t always a Deku, he became one after being taken by watchers

You are right about him not always being a deku :)

[star-captain]

Illuminate

Another part of what I’ve started to call ‘Wandering Stars’, stories of self-inserts interacting with hermits. I dunno if the name is gonna stick, that’s just what the Google Doc is called. 

But here’s another piece! This time with the incredible, kind, and talented @theguardiansofredland​ ‘s character Red. This was a challenging story, but I very much enjoyed writing it and playing with a character I never could have come up with on my own. 

The sun settles on the horizon, dipping into the ocean and leaving behind a trail of orange streaking across the surface. It looks like it’s melting, orange fire spilling out. As sunset turns to twilight, the coral and sea pickles below begin to illuminate. The ocean comes alive with color, unbothered by the loss of the sun. Fish swim through pillars that glow softly, shadows playing out like puppets controlled by kelp.

The last hint of the sun drowns into the sea, leaving behind a sharp flash of green across the air. Glass catches the light, refracting the emerald flash over the blue floor and twin towers, across the open cavern. And as the light fades from the sky, a glow begins to materialize on her skin. Blue specks, flecks of light swirl across her skin, fighting off the darkness and growing brighter. Like stars, they grow in intensity as the world settles into the night. Waves of light flow around patches of larger blue, the brightest resting on her shoulders and inner forearms. Symmetric stripes are barely visible through the fabric of her pants, wakes of bright blue against the swirling flecks.

They push their glasses up the bridge of their nose, squinting to get a better look at what they’ve been staking out. Red knew that a monument has been missing for some time now, but they haven’t been able to check out the report until now. There’s someone down at the bottom, below the seafloor. From sea level, all they can see is guardians rise up bubble columns of the twin spires, before falling down into a hole.

She needs a closer look. Red looks over the edge of the glass, at the sharp drop down into the backwards aquarium. There’s no water, and she obviously can’t fly. A flying fish is just ridiculous. She chuckles at the idea, before turning to the other side of the glass, which is holding the ocean at bay from the unusual structure. Peering in, Red can see her reflection in the glassy water. It’s a calm night.

Streaks of bioluminescence mark her face, symmetrical against her cheeks after rising up her neck from her back.  They look a bit like shark’s teeth at her chin from this angle, which looks pretty cool in her mind. Red’s hair is still wet from clambering out of the sea, orange and blue tones plastered against her head. Her reflection is broken as she dives in. Down, down down, into the depths of the sea. Where most people would be scared of such deep waters, she calls it home. She can feel the water rush past her face, over her fins as she speeds towards the bottom, and breathes in the cool water.

At the bottom of the structure, Red pauses to look at the strange building. It’s all made of glass, and she’d hate to break something that someone worked hard to build. Maybe she can just push a pane or two out, and sneak in without actually breaking the glass. Red reaches out, placing her palms on the smooth, cool window. She gives a push, but it doesn’t budge. She pushes again, harder. And harder, and harder, until suddenly the glass gives way under her strength.

Red and water sweep into the structure, pooling on the floor and depositing the surprised Kipling on the prismarine tile. Red only chuckles to themself. “Whoops. Maybe pushed a little bit too hard.”

Red stands, slopping through the water back onto dry stone. They made it to the bottom, but wandering around on the floor yields no information as to what is happening here. Red wanders up to the towers of water. Stepping up, they watch as guardians shoot up the column like some elevator on the fritz. The guardians flail about as flowing water sweeps them out and down a mysterious tunnel. Even when Red cranes their neck to look down the middle pillar, they can’t see the bottom.

But on the other side of the glass, around the pillar, he can see a ladder leading down. Abandoning the drop tower, Red quickly clambers down the wood ladder. Deep into the depths of the earth, the ladder spits him out in a cramped room. He looks around. The space is filled with metal hoppers and wood chests, in design that he can’t make out but knows is some sort of collection system. Down the short hall, Red sees the owner of all this.

He’s in a well dressed green suit, asleep in a chair rocked on it’s back two legs against the stone wall. Red jumps at the sound of a crash, but it’s only another hopper filling itself with goods. She turns her attention back to the human. Curiosity draws her closer. The most unusual part of the man is one of his eyes. It looks like it’s metal, with some sort of crystal or something acting as the iris. Can he see her, even though he’s asleep?

She turns away from the human, focusing back on the reason she’s here. And that reason is to understand why this is here, and what is happening to the guardians that enter the tunnel. Just beyond the sleeping man, she can see the guardians. Humans can’t notice it, but each guardian is different. Different scale patterns, different tints in the orange and blue, all making each ocular fish unique. And she can see there must be dozens of guardians crammed into a small place at the bottom of the pit. They’re wounded, but alive.

“There must be a way to get you all out of here. You guys see anything?” She jokes, winking her eye at the cycloptic guardians. She turns around in the small room, seeing lots of different buttons and levers. But none of them look to be hooked up to the fences that hold back the guardians. Red doesn’t want to mess with redstone, as much as she likes flipping switches and pushing buttons- that stuff is too much for her. It doesn’t work well in water anyways. Though sometimes she wonders what it tastes like.

But one stone button, hardly visible against the stone wall, seems like a good chance to free her fishy friends. Red hardly wastes more than a second stumbling to the button and crashing into it. At first she’s smiling, waiting for the fences to open up and for the guardians to be freed from whatever cruel trick this is.

The smile fades into horror as pistons tug stone blocks out from under the guardians, and the pit deepens just enough. Just enough that those already sitting at the bottom fall just a little further. A chorus of shrill cries escapes the stone, echoing around the hall and haunting Red’s mind. How many just died? Hoppers rumble around her, and she starts to put this all together.

She watches the farm run, even though it’s owner is fast asleep in his chair. Wind whistles across the squirming, flailing guardians. Red watches in horror through her glasses as the helpless fish fall all the way to the bottom of the pit. One after another, they screech and die with a sickening crunch against the deep, dry stone. Every time they fall, she feels her heart fall as well, breaking with their bones.  The prismarine is quickly scooped up by the hopper system, rumbling and sorting out the goods that dropped upon death.

It’s horrifying, monstrous. Humans tear down an ocean monument, stripping a home for the resources it holds. And then humans build a contraption only for death and their insatiable greed. They have to stop it. Red grabs at the button, pulling it from the wall. It doesn’t stop the endless cycle of death. They haul the heavy double chests out from under the hopper, but the items just sort into a different chest. Behind the chest, Red can see the thin trails of redstone snaking between hoppers. Lit up, making sure the system is running. They crouch down, shoving a scaly arm through the tight space between two hoppers.

She reaches her hand across the redstone, and cuts the connection. The activated redstone gives her a jolt, like holding a channeling trident during a storm. The entire system shuts down, including the water that flushes the guardians to their doom. The sorting machine falls silent, though the dying screams of guardians still echo in the cave and in Red’s mind.

Behind her, chair legs scrape against the smooth stone. “Grian I swear if you plan to shove something into my inventory again!”

Red and the human freeze, staring at each other. The suited man blinks, gazing at the unusual visitor. She’s not sure if he’s ever seen a Kipling before, much less one covered in redstone dust. She hasn’t even noticed that tears were falling until now, and her bioluminescent markings glow brighter than a sea lantern. “What are you doing to my guardian farm?”

“These aren’t for you to take!” Red states, standing up for her home and family, and standing up to her feet. “This isn’t a farm, this is massacre!” She returns to ripping the death machine apart, piece by piece, without a tool. Tossing filled hoppers across the room and risking being electrocuted.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on, wait!” He approaches Red, before backing off. “Let...let’s talk about this. I’m Iskall. Why are you destroying my...my building?”

“Because you’re killing them.” Red whimpers, looking at where scales and blood splatter the wall of the pit. “Those are...that’s my family, my home you’ve destroyed.”

“The ocean monument?” Iskall questions. He looks up, as if observing the world beyond the stone cave. “I never thought anyone except these laser fish lived there.”

“It’s their home too. Would you like for someone to come and rip it all up and kill your family?” Red tries to wipe away the tears. He hates being so sensitive, forcing himself to be open to a person he doesn’t trust. It’s hard to trust humans when they do this. “All for what?”

“Sahara needs the prismarine to sell to other hermits, taking down the monuments and killing guardians is the only way.”

“If you just looked for help, looked for a different way then you wouldn’t have to! I have more prismarine than I know what to do with, all without ever hurting another guardian.” To prove her point, Red pulls out a handful of prismarine crystals. She lets it fall to the ground, Iskall’s metal eye watching her toss it away like it’s dirt.

The bearded man rubs his chin. “I never thought that anyone lived in ocean monuments, that could talk with us. This does change things.” Red looks up, meeting his gaze. “Let’s make a deal then, shall we? A real Sahara contract. You can supply Sahara with that prismarine, get it all out of your way. In return, you can...ahem, decommission my farm here. And maybe I can talk with the others and see if they can find other ways.”

Red looks around, not quite sure if this is some sort of trap or something. Not until Iskall pulls out a diamond pickaxe, offering it as a sign of good faith to the young Kipling. “You look tired, I’m sure you’re hungry. Let’s see.” He digs around in his pockets, finding a bag of sweet berries. The two munch on the fruit, until Red is satisfied and ready to get back to destroying this place. Using the pickaxe is so much better than using his hands, and he can’t help but smile as each hopper and chest is removed. Iskall even joins in, climbing up to the empty ocean. While Red frees his oceanic brethren from the twin towers, Iskall begins to refill the water he had removed. He can’t rebuild the monument, but at least he can make this place habitable again. Maybe they can make something new here, for everyone.

Destruction has never been so fun, so relieving to Red. Tearing down all her frustrations, and filling it back with the cool ocean water. It’s sunrise by the time the two finish, and Red’s markings are fading in the peeking sunlight. The two stand on the last remaining concrete block, the water below teeming with life. The pit has been waterlogged, and hopefully the tides will eventually wash away the stains of such a death-covered place.

“I think that went pretty swimmingly.” Red chuckles, looking over the ocean. In the morning light, they can see the bright colors of the coral, and thousands of tiny fish go on with their lives among the stony creatures.

Iskall laughs at the pun. “You remind me of a friend of mine, at least when you’re happy. Speaking of, I should probably get back to the other hermits. Call a meeting with the Architechs and tell them our job just got a lot easier.” He holds up a couple of prismarine shards. “And we’ve got a monopoly on the prismarine trade! Please, come visit if you ever have the chance.”

The green-suited man takes out his elytra wings, and soars off towards the mainland. Red looks out at the sunrise, the quiet ocean. Her home. She pushes up her glasses, rolls the sleeves of her shirt, and dives into the water.