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Despite his jacket laden with diamonds, despite his crown made of pure gold, despite his netherite throne, the thing Ren was most proud of was his hands.
They hadn’t grown any softer during his short time as king. If anything, they were firmer than ever – otherwise smooth skin thickened by relentless toil, grip strong enough to split wood, grasp steady enough to lay on the most delicate of detail.
They were the hands of a working man. The hands of a blacksmith, a woodcutter. Roadbuilder. The hands of a hero.
Because that’s what he was, right? The heroic king that the server had so desperately needed. The guiding light, the brilliant sun that was going to lead everyone out of the darkness caused by the economic disaster.
So how was it that his very best friend was turning his back on him?
Bdubs was looking up at him with wide, worried eyes, slightly obscured by the floor-length moss cloak. Ren was sure he made quite the picture right now – seated on his throne, eyes blazing behind his diamond glasses, those strong hands holding onto the armrests like he was trying to crush it.
He wasn’t going to get angry at Bdubs for delivering the news of Doc’s betrayal. That’s not what a good king – a heroic king – would do. No. Ren would stay calm. Collected. A cool head was the sign of a true leader, and Bdubs had trusted him to fulfill that role.
“My liege…” Bdubs started quietly, but Ren barely heard him.
“Are you sure?” Ren asked, and – no, that wasn’t right. He hadn’t meant to sound like that. He had meant to sound in control, unaffected. Like the hero-king he was.
But instead, his voice was a wavering whisper of what it should be.
“Yes, my liege.” Bdubs said, a little too quickly. “Sir Scar is at the perimeter right now. He says that there’s a gigantic flag that wasn’t there before, and…” Bdubs glanced down to where he held his clunky communicator in hand. “He’s saying that it’s big enough to completely ruin the view at Scarland.”
Ren barely heard him, mind already thousands of blocks away. Doc really had done it. He really had declared independence from… from what? From the entirety of Hermitcraft? No, that couldn’t be right. If he was so eager to jump ship, there were plenty of other servers that would take a technical genius like him, regardless of his… eccentricities.
No. He was declaring independence from him.
Ren stood abruptly, and Bdubs made a strange squeaking noise as he scrambled away from the base of the throne. “My liege, what are you–”
“Prepare my elytra.” That was more like it – Ren’s voice had a sharp, authoritarian edge that he almost never managed, even when he was giving speeches. It was anger, he realized dimly. Something he very, very rarely felt.
“But–”
“Prepare my elytra now!” He snapped, long jacket swishing behind him as he strode towards the grand, open window of the throne room. He gazed out at Hermitcraft – no, at his kingdom. It was a beautiful day – the sun peeking out from behind perfectly soft clouds, sky a clear, glimmering blue. It was a terrible contrast to the storm of emotions inside of him, anger mixing with something… uglier.
He barely felt Bdubs unhook his jacket, instinctively shrugging off the achingly heavy cloth and letting it fall carelessly to the floor. The elytra, in contrast, was light as a whisper – a relief, compared to the burden of the diamond-studded fur.
Ren opened up his inventory, pulling out his rockets and perching on the windowsill. He would’ve leapt out right then and there, but a touch from Bdubs had him pause.
“Uh, Ren – I mean, my liege.” Bdubs hurried to correct himself. “You should probably take off your crown before you fly.”
“Oh. Right.” Ren lifted his hand, coarse fingers brushing against the solid gold. He knew that it was heavy, even heavier than the jacket or any of the other noble regalia, but… he wore it so often now that it barely even registered.
“Would you like me to hold onto it?” Bdubs offered mildly.
“No.” Ren snapped, then winced. He hadn’t meant to be so cold.
“No, that’s fine, Sir Bdubs.” He repeated, softer this time. He reached up, gingerly taking the small crown off of his head. It had always struck him as strange – how could something so humble, so diminutive, hold so much weight?
He placed it in his inventory. He might need it, after all.
“Good luck, my king. I’m sure you’ll get through to him.”
Void, Ren hoped so.
The warm orange brick of Scarland’s main path seemed to glow under the midday sun, a bright contrast to the lush green plains that surrounded it. Ren grimaced when he saw it – he was on the last stretch of his journey now.
He peered past the finely-decorated facades, hiding the true industrial nature of Scarland. It was hard to make out in the haze of heat, but sure enough…
The edge of something massive rendered in, cutting into the endlessly blue sky. Ren swallowed, hesitant to fire another rocket. He knew he was being ridiculous, but… well, maybe it had just been a prank from Scar. Or maybe Doc had simply been building one of his gargantuan machines, and Scar had misunderstood, somehow.
If he just didn’t look, maybe it wouldn’t be true at all.
But velocity pushed him forward regardless of his hesitancy, elytra catching the warm updrafts and spiraling him ever-closer to the looming monolith.
It was a goat.
Of course it was a goat. Ren could feel an edge of hysteria to his thoughts, but who could blame him? Doc would naturally pick his most iconic symbol to represent his… his freedom. One that was unmistakably his.
Not to mention that even from here, Ren could see the glittering diamonds embedded in the damn flagpole. Ren had to suppress the urge to scoff – Doc naturally just had to rub it in, didn’t he? Clearly, he did not care to participate in Ren’s new rule.
And then something else caught his eye – the unmistakable iridescent shimmer of an elytra.
Ren’s heart went into overdrive. Was that Doc, coming to confront him?
His emotions roiled inside of his gut, excitement and fear rolled into one. Void, it had been too long, hadn’t it?
They had barely spoken since the insanity of last season. Ren could hardly blame him – things had gotten a little… intense , near the end.
But some terrible part of him missed it. Missed the sleepless nights spent together, the feeling of solidarity, of brotherhood, of… of something else. Something that Ren had very much had not had the opportunity to talk to Doc about.
After all, the end of the world was hardly an appropriate time to confess one’s love.
Ren was abruptly snapped out of his train of thought by slamming face-first into one of the Scarland streetlights.
He barely managed to make his elytra catch before hitting the ground, meaning his fall was barely cushioned – in fact, he seemed to be mostly cushioned via tail.
Ren let out a whine of pain, running a hand over the dark brown fur. Void, it was aching something fierce . It wasn’t like injury was a real issue on Hermitcraft – this was no UHC – but that hardly made it hurt less.
It’s what he got for flying distracted, to be honest. Ren wasn’t most unaware of his surroundings – that dubious honor almost certainly belonged to Scar – but he was prone to mental wandering. It was something that he would need to keep an eye on if he wanted to maintain a good reputation.
Tearing his eyes away from his uncomfortably throbbing tail, he shielded his eyes from the sun, gazing out towards the massive flagpole. The iridescent shine of the elytra was gone.
He honestly wasn’t sure to be disappointed or relieved.
That sentiment did not disappear when he was startled yet again by a sudden impact, though this time it wasn’t him doing the rough landing.
Scar had practically launched himself at the street in front of him, hitting the ground with a painful-sounding thud. Ren winced sympathetically, but Scar hardly seemed to notice, immediately sitting up with a shouted “Ren! I mean, my king!”
He was wearing his full HotGuy outfit, now adorned with both a fine pair of diamond glasses and a nosebleed that was currently running down his face in rivulets.
“I’ve been waiting for you!”
“I… you have?”
“Yes!” Scar stood, offering a hand to Ren, which he graciously took. “Oh my gosh! Ren, you need to command Doc to take that thing down immediately!”
Ren blinked at him. “The flag?”
“Yes, the flag! What else?”
“Scar, I think the whole point of the flag is that it’s supposed to symbolize him not listening to me. I can try, my dude, but I think he’s not in a listening mood.”
Scar pouted. Considering the blood currently caking his lips, the look had a bizarre effect. “Yeah, but…”
“Your view?”
“Yes, exactly! My view!” Scar huffed, gesticulating wildly towards the otherwise endless blue sky. “How am I going to sell tickets to Scarland with a big eyesore like that in the way?”
Ren folded his arms, leveling Scar with an unimpressed stare. “Don’t you mean ‘how is anyone going to show the king respect when there’s such a plain symbol of rebellion’?”
“Oh! Uh, yes, of course that takes priority, your highness.” Scar reassured, a little too quickly. “The Scarland thing is just a… side hustle.”
“Mm.” Ren hummed, not convinced in the slightest, but not in the mood to argue the point.
“Anyway…” Scar coughed awkwardly. “Are you ready to confront him?”
Ren absolutely did not feel ready, but Scar didn’t need to know that. Instead, Ren straightened his back, bringing himself to his full height. He still wasn’t quite even with Scar, but any effect of power or intimidation that Scar might hold was ruined by the blood that Scar had still not bothered to wipe off his face.
“I am, my good knight. I will show that foul knave what-for!” Ren boomed, allowing his words to grow sharp with their enunciation.
“Oh, excellent!” Scar rocked forwards on the balls of his feet, giddiness clear in his voice. “You won’t have to worry about anything, your highness – I’ll be the best bodyguard you could ask for.”
Ren blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“I’ll… I’ll be a good bodyguard?” Scar repeated. “Are you alright? You did slam into that pole pretty hard…”
Ren flushed – so Scar had seen his little mishap. “I – no, I heard your words perfectly well, good knight. But I don’t need a bodyguard.”
Scar just blinked. “You… you don’t?”
Oh void, he looked awfully put out. Ren couldn’t hold back his grimace – he had certainly picked a colorful cast of characters to be in his royal court. Catering to Scar’s ego was not something he wanted to be worrying about right now.
Maybe if he just… talked in a language that Scar could understand.
Ren placed a hand on Scar’s shoulder. The spandex of his HotGuy uniform was warm under the late summer sun. “Scar, I need to talk to Doc man-to-man. Really show him that I can be the boss. And if you’re there, how am I supposed to convince him?”
“Oh!” Scar nodded with Ren’s words. “Okay, yeah, that makes sense. But if you’re ever in danger…”
Scar rummaged around his inventory for a moment, before producing a goat horn. He pressed it into Ren’s hand, the rough keratin scratching against his palm. “Just give that a little blow, and Doc’ll be experiencing a whole new meaning of veloci-tay.”
Ren accepted the horn with a “Thank you, Sir Scar,” though he seriously doubted he would be using it – even if the meeting went badly, Ren wasn’t that petty.
“Good luck talking to him!” Scar called out as he fired up some rockets, launching himself back into the sky and wildly careening off to… wherever he hung out while looking out for his prey.
Ren sighed, tucking the horn away in his inventory and turning back towards the imposing flagpole. He had no reason to even think that Doc was hanging out on the damn thing; it would make more sense if he had just returned to working on one of his massive, multi-week projects.
And yet, as Ren set off his own fireworks, he couldn’t help but be drawn towards the mega-structure – it certainly had an undeniable presence to it, domineering over the rest of the landscape.
As he approached, he noticed a slight movement from the top of the wooden structure. Ren’s eyes widened with surprise as he realized that the entire platform was covered in a lush green garden. Solar panels glittered among the freshly-watered leaves of flowers, grass, and of course, tomatoes.
And in the center of it all was Doc.
Ren hadn’t been sure what to expect from his old friend – maybe for him to already have gotten battle-ready, decked out in full netherite and preparing an endless supply of mechanically-crafted potions. Or maybe for him to be working on some game-breaking death machine, specifically targeting him in some incomprehensible way.
But no. The only thing Doc seemed prepared to fight right now was weeds; he wasn’t even wearing armor, for void’s sake. His only protection was a sun hat and gardening gloves.
Ren swooped down, managing to land on the platform with relative ease. Doc glanced up from where he appeared to be digging through one of his planters with a small garden trowel.
“Oh, hey man.” Doc greeted casually, standing up and brushing the dirt off his well-worn jeans.
Ren opened his mouth to reply, but found the words stuck in his throat.
Was that… it? Was that really all Doc had to say to him?
Ren dug his heel into the soft dirt underneath him, breath growing unsteady as he gazed at his best friend. He had been so fired up to talk to him, but seeing him like this…
He just looked like Ren’s friend. The soft-spoken, kind man with a tenacity for grudges and the dedication to make those grudges count. Ren knew perfectly well that Doc would gladly spend hundreds of hours to concoct an elaborate killing machine, or bring thousands of hostile mobs into Ren’s castle, or… or something!
But instead, he was tending to his tomatoes. As if he hadn’t just basically declared an all-out war on Ren himself.
Doc tilted his head, squinting at Ren. “You alright, man? You’re just kind of… standing there.”
Ren straightened up, fixing Doc with the best commanding gaze he could muster. “Explain yourself.”
Doc raised an eyebrow. “Explain myself?”
“Yes. Explain yourself, knave.” Ren huffed. “What do you think you’re doing, exactly?”
“Adding some mulch to my tomatoes.” Doc replied, mild as ever. “Honestly, you’re the one who’s acting weird here.”
“Not that!” Ren huffed. He could feel his ears flattening against his head, the fur on them pulled tight with the rage that simmered under his skin. “What’s with this… this giant flag, Doc? What are you trying to prove?”
“Oh, that.” Doc laughed, as though Ren were pointing out a new pair of shoes. “Just wanted to send a message that I’m not a fan of regimes, man.”
“Regimes…?” Ren inhaled sharply, balling his fist tightly enough that he could feel his nails biting into the flesh of his palm. “How is this a regime?”
“How is it not?” Doc was still smiling, but Ren could hear an edge to his voice that wasn’t there just a moment ago. “You demand that everyone gives their hard-earned diamonds to you, so you can be the one to dish them out as you please? Making people do even more busywork just to get back what they’re owed. Seems pretty regime-like to me.”
“That isn’t it at all.” Ren snapped back. “I’m not trying to scam anyone, or get people to do my dirty work. This isn’t for me. This is for everyone.”
“Mm.” Doc hummed. He finally placed his small hand trowel down, and for a moment, Ren was convinced that he was going to draw a sword. But instead, Doc just stuck his hands in his jean pockets, as casual as could be. “You’re still the boss though, right? Making a bunch of rules for everyone to follow.”
“There’s always been rules on Hermitcraft.” Ren pointed out. “Maybe rules that were meant to be broken, but still. This is hardly an anarchy server.”
“Oh, I know.” Doc cocked his head. “I’m not saying I’m opposed to rules. I just don’t like yours.”
“You don’t…” Ren swallowed. It was hard to know how serious Doc was being – he didn’t seem very serious, after all. But regardless of whatever Doc’s true intentions were, his words stung.
Clearly, Doc was missing the specifics of Ren’s vision for the server, but even that wasn’t so bad. They’d disagreed before, after all. Void, they’d even been on opposing sides of a conflict. But it had… it hadn’t felt so personal before.
Ren knew that this time shouldn’t be different. If he and Doc could teasingly fight each other, participate in silly wars and still come out smiling on the other side, then this should be the same.
But it didn’t feel the same at all, and Ren had a sinking feeling he knew why.
He hadn’t known about his feelings towards Doc all those times before. They had just been friends – best friends, sure, but friends all the same. The slights against each other were just the shades of a game they were playing together.
And maybe it wasn’t fair to Doc; after all, he didn’t even know that Ren had this little crush. How was he supposed to realize that Ren was feeling genuine pain at his refutation to even take him seriously?
But, honestly… Ren didn’t feel like being fair right now. He felt vindictive. He felt angry. He wanted Doc to know exactly how serious he was right now – how little of a ‘game’ he wanted this to be.
Ren opened up his inventory, fingers brushing past the horn, just for a moment, before settling on the solid golden form of his crown. He pulled it out, equipping it with a flourish.
Doc’s eyebrows raised at the gesture, an amused quirk returning to his lips. “Got your big boy hat on?”
“Shut up.” Ren snapped, not bothering with a quick-witted reply. He stared up at Doc, lips pulled back in a biting snarl. “You might not be taking me seriously right now, Doc, but I can promise you this much – you’ve just made one hell of an enemy.”
“Oh?”
“I am the rightful and recognized king of this server. It isn’t just my court that’s loyal to me – practically everyone has paid me my just tribute, and are reaping the benefits of a just and giving ruler. Everyone except for you . So don’t act like you’re the real arbiter of what’s good for people; you aren’t on the side of anyone except for yourself, Doc.”
That got the smile to fall from his face. “Maybe not now. But believe me, people are going to start coming around to my way of thinking.”
“Good luck with that.” Ren pulled out his rockets, uncaringly hopping on top of one of Doc’s solar panels as he prepared to take off. Doc’s one natural eye narrowed in clear irritation. “But if you ever want to get your head out of the sand and see some real progress on this server, feel free to join the party. But do us all a favor and take this eyesore down first.”
With that, Ren launched himself into the sky – though he wasn’t quite fast enough to escape Doc’s last biting remark. “Considering your tiny crown, I think you’re just intimidated by big things!”
Ren flushed in embarrassment, but the momentum of his takeoff had already taken him past Doc’s earshot, and there was no way he was going back down to say something else.
Instead, he just grabbed the crown off of his head, shoving it ungracefully into his inventory. And, after a moment of consideration, he pulled out something else.
He knew it was petty, but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction when he read the chat message a few moments later.
Docm77 was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [ HoTGuY ]
The late afternoon sun was casting brilliant shards of light across the ground, deep purple shadows spreading with every creeping minute. It was a beautiful time of day – normally, Ren would take a second during this golden hour to just admire, well… everything. The natural beauty of the forest, the magnificence of his kingdom, the results of much blood, sweat, and tears. But right now, he had an unpleasant task to do.
Ren swung his pickaxe, easily knocking out one of the supporting struts of the Entity’s legs. Before the mysterious rock… thing… was in danger of actually collapsing, Ren quickly pulled out a solid emerald block, replacing the mechanism he had destroyed with the makeshift support.
As he had done so many times today, he then placed a sign above his marker, inscribing in a glowing red ink – ‘PROPERTY OF THE CROWN’.
It wasn’t as though he wanted to be doing this. He didn’t want to be taxing his subjects heavily – so heavily, in fact, that he had been taking diamonds out from the chests themselves. But he was desperate.
After the party in his… private area, the royal coffers were officially empty, and that absolutely could not stand. No diamonds meant no server quests, and no server quests meant that the economic miracle was about to turn into yet another disaster.
Ren absolutely could not let that happen. He was the hero-king, after all; if he let down the server, then there would have truly been no point to the crown at all.
So it was grim determination that was leading him to throw open Grian’s chests, pulling out the copious stacks of diamonds and tucking them safely into his inventory. The Royal Emerald solution was by no means perfect, but he was more than happy to keep some cash flow going in the meantime.
And, well, if he felt a twinge of vindictive joy at taking from the pesky bird that had been terrorizing the server quests with ‘priority quests’ or ‘adventures’ or whatever other loophole Grian was sure to worm through next, then that was something Ren could keep to himself.
He was startled out of his thoughts by the sudden whoosh of rockets, and he flipped around, expecting to see the diminutive man himself coming to give Ren a piece of his mind.
Instead, he came face-to-face with a rather alarmed-looking Doc.
Ren straightened his back. They hadn’t spoken since that initial confrontation over Doc declaring his independence – no, Ren had been far too busy with… everything else going wrong.
“What the hell are you doing?” Doc asked, disbelief clear in his tone.
“Taxation.” Ren replied stiffly. His fingers twitched as he considered pulling out his sword right then and there – but no. He needed to wait.
“Taxation?” Doc repeated. “Are you kidding?”
“I would never ‘kid’ about something so serious, knave.” Ren shot back. “It is necessary for the kingdom’s greater good that the royal coffers retain a healthy stock. And seeing how my wretched subjects have taken it upon themselves to simply steal diamonds from my vault, I have responded in kind by taking back what’s mine.”
Ren expected Doc to look angry, but he didn’t. Instead, his expression was one of abject horror.
“I didn’t want to believe it, man.” Doc murmured, almost to himself. “I was just trying to do some shopping, and then I start coming across all these signs saying that… what, you own these shops?”
“Yes.” Ren sniffed. “As the king of the server, they are all under my domain.”
“So, what, you’re just stealing all the profits?”
“I’m taxing them. Not stealing. Besides, the Royal Emeralds that I’m leaving them are just as valuable as diamonds.”
“Royal…?” Doc turned back, throwing open one of the chests and peeking inside. "Oh, void."
"A fair compensation for their hard work, I think."
"Fair compen…? They're just emeralds , man. You do know how easy it is to get emeralds, right?"
"They are not just emeralds." Ren snapped. "They are Royal Emeralds, inscribed by the hand of the King. That alone makes them just as valuable as diamond."
"You've lost it." Doc said, voice barely above a whisper. "You've actually lost it."
Ren balled his fists tightly by his side. "Well, perhaps you'll now believe me when I tell you how serious I am." He hissed. "This is not a game, brigand. It never was, and never will be.”
Doc was silent for a moment. Ren could see the mechanics of his arm shifting as his fingers twitched – was he about to draw his sword?
But no; his fingers simply settled after a moment.
“I hope you snap out of this soon.” Doc said. “Because if you won’t listen to me, things are going to get ugly.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise.” Doc tilted his head. “There’s blood in the water now, and things are going to end one way or another.”
Ren grimaced. “According to you, fiend. But it’s my responsibility to keep this wheel turning, and so I will do so. Because that’s the duty of the King. And I am nothing if not a loyal dog.”
Ash fell from the impossible sky in dark, ugly flakes – and yet, the flurry felt soft against Ren’s skin, somehow reminiscent of winter’s first snowfall.
He had his face turned upwards, eyes cast towards the bruise-dark sky of the eternal nether dusk.
What a terrible, wicked place. And yet, Ren could think of no better venue to finally bring an end to this chapter.
His court was murmuring amongst themselves, hushed whispers of barely-disguised treason clear even in their quiet tones.
A scant hour ago, it would’ve been the kind of thing to send Ren into a paranoid spiral – an affirmation that he could trust no one, rely on no one. That the entire server had truly turned on him.
But now, it hardly seemed to matter.
Ren knew the end of his reign was coming. Knew that this ragtag group of rebels, who had seemed so powerless against the forces of his loyal court’s wiles, had managed to overcome each and every challenge. They had blustered past every difficulty, outsmarted every member, and pushed past Ren’s every effort to turn them away.
And now they were in full diamond – a stark contrast to the ragged armor and weapons they had scraped from the rest of the challenges. Damn Grian and his loopholes; though honestly, that was what Ren got for trusting the trickster in the first place.
He allowed his gaze to fall to the gathered crowd. Their excitement was palpable – even their weapons seemed to hum with an unmistakable energy, silent waiting belying their bloodlust.
Ren wanted to believe in his court – wanted to believe that the power of their loyalty would be enough to overpower even the most determined of foes. But, well… that would require for them to be loyal in the first place, a sentiment that Ren was under no illusions about now.
“Hermits, come forth into the king’s arena!” He called out, booming voice echoing against the deepslate walls of the enclosed space. “You face your final test before you. Congratulations for making it this far.
“So you shall fight us for the last time, you heathen scum.” Ren’s lips curled with vitriol. “Should you be victorious, I shall step down. And because we absolutely destroyed you last time, it’s going to be one at a time.”
There was a shocked murmur from behind him; clearly, his court wasn’t too keen on this idea. But Ren pressed on – he had very little regard for what they thought at this point. They were hardly better than the bottom feeders that they were supposed to be fighting.
“Sir Cub!” Ren called out. “Show these fools the meaning of pain!”
To Cub’s credit, he didn’t hesitate even for a second, loyally stepping into the elevator that launched him straight into the center of the arena.
Ren had been right, of course. It was almost painful to watch – they pounced on him the second he emerged, easily tearing through the leather armor he wore. It was over in seconds.
With each and every member of his court that he sent down, Ren watched the fight unwaveringly. It didn’t matter that they were set upon instantly, torn apart by glittering swords and axes; at this point, Ren barely felt anything at all.
As he watched, however, his eyes were continuously drawn to a few Hermits in particular. It was clear that the Soup Group was the driving force behind the rebellion, Impulse and Gem leading the major pushes and Pearl acting as a rallying force for any of the hesitant Hermits.
And yet, they weren’t who stood out the most. No, that dubious honor went to Doc.
His once best friend seemed almost disconnected from the rest of the fight, ignoring the strategic motions of his fellows. Ren knew him well enough that he could see the bloodlust, an edge to his every movement that made it obvious this was personal. He was vicious in a way that didn’t suit him at all. Both Cleo and Scar fell to his blade – or Cub’s blade, as it were – despite Doc’s usual reticence towards straight PVP.
And after every kill he made, he just looked back up at Ren, red mechanical eye burning.
Before he knew it, only Ren and Bdubs were left. His hand gave him a nervous look, but he barely noticed it; he was too busy staring back at Doc.
Clearly, Doc was waiting for someone in particular.
Ren hissed through his teeth. If that’s what he wanted, then he saw no reason to give him everything he got.
Ren raised his hands, finally, finally removing his crown. He held it in his hands for a moment.
The burnished gold seemed dull in the low light of the nether. It really was beautiful – Bdubs certainly had an eye for detail. The shapes of the crown were strong and solid, but each edge had a delicate filigree that one could miss if they weren’t looking closely enough. It was the crown of a kind ruler; the crown of someone who was firm without crushing the spirits of his subjects.
It was a crown that he no longer deserved. A crown he hadn’t deserved in a long time.
He didn’t tuck it away in his inventory. Instead, he let it slip from his fingers, falling the steep drop to the arena below. He watched, detached, as it landed with a distinct hiss in the lava moat, the metal of the crown immediately warping and melting with the heat.
“Bdubs.” He said, quietly as he equipped his netherite helmet. The man straightened his back.
“Yes, my liege?”
“Together.” Ren said simply, stepping away from the edge of the platform and into the elevator shaft.
There was a brief moment of claustrophobic darkness before Ren emerged into the low, burning light of the arena. He was instantly set upon by the masses, diamond weapons chipping away at his netherite armor with an unshakeable ferocity.
And yet he barely felt any of it. Barely even noticed the thoughtless brutality against him, even as weapons slipped past his defenses and cut into his vulnerable skin.
He, after all, only had eyes for one man.
He and Doc lunged at each other, blades clattering together with an ear-splitting screech. Doc was saying something to him, but Ren hardly heard – the blood in his ears was roaring far too loudly.
They knew each other too well, both struggling to gain ground against the other. Ren had the advantage of better weapons and armor, but Doc was supported by the sheer number of people on his side.
Ren was sure Bdubs was preventing people from swarming him as best he could, but he had never been a fighter – Ren could only ask so much from the man.
But even still, he was holding them back enough that Ren managed to weave past the few people who were determined to focus on him, giving everything had to Doc and Doc alone.
It almost felt like they were dancing together – the push and pull of battle was rhythmic. Familiar. Ren remembered a time, not so long ago, that they were fighting by each other’s side. It was… enjoyable, in a sick way. This closeness they were sharing. The sheer dedication to each other.
Void, Ren hadn’t felt this alive in a long time.
And then Doc’s sword was flying through the air, thrown out of his hand by a skillful turn of Ren’s wrist.
Doc’s eye widened, breathing out a single word.
“Ren.”
“Doc.” Ren whispered in turn, then plunged his blade straight into Doc’s chest.
The man disappeared with a poof of ash, armor and items all falling to the ground in an unceremonious heap.
Ren stared at the pile. He should feel… he should feel good.
He had just slain the rebel that had thwarted him the most, after all. The one that had declared an entire nation separate from him, spit in the face of everything he had tried to stand for, refused to remember what they had once been.
But he didn’t.
All he could feel was his heart tearing itself to shreds.
And then there was another, much more sharp pain.
He gasped, looking up just in time to see the massive crowd bearing down on him, swords drawn, no holds barred.
RentheKing was slain by ImpulseSV
The grass was cool against Ren’s skin, a fine mist of condensation sitting heavy on the slender blades and getting his back wet.
He couldn’t say that he minded, honestly. It felt grounding.
He didn’t have to be anywhere else – he didn’t have to be fussing over sever quests, pouring over battle maps, making lists of the most wanted criminals on the server. No, he could just be here. Lying on this gentle, grassy hill, gazing up at the inky blackness, dotted with brilliant white stars.
It felt good to have someplace that he could just be alone with his thoughts.
“Is there room for one more?” A voice asked, soft in its intonation.
Ren startled, sitting up to face its source.
Doc was staring down at him, though there was no malice in his face – no, there was nothing intimidating at all about him.
In fact, he was holding an honest-to-void picnic basket. Ren stared at it dumbly for a second before stammering out a reply.
“Uh – feel free, my dude.”
Doc took the words to heart, easily settling besides Ren. Without another word, he opened up the basket, pulling out a bottle of… something, and quietly pouring two glasses.
Ren took it without protest, tossing back a swig of the mysterious liquid.
He wasn’t shocked when the smooth taste of wine graced his tongue, the alcohol easily sliding down his throat. It was certainly too dark to get a good look at it, but Ren could tell it was a lovely white – not too sweet, not too dry. Easy on the palate.
“This is really good stuff. Where’d you get it?” He asked, after a long moment of silence.
“Made it myself.” Doc sounded inordinately proud of himself. “Tomatoes aren’t the only thing I grow, after all. But, uh… don’t tell X, okay?”
Ren laughed. He doubted the admin would mind, but if that was the game Doc wanted to play, Ren was willing to go along with it. “Don’t worry, my dude. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Mm. Good to hear.”
They fell back into silence. Ren swirled the glass in front of himself, watching the starlight refract off of the pale liquid.
They hadn’t talked since… since.
Ren had barely been talking to anyone, actually; the most he could stomach were little, in-passing conversations in the shopping district, and even then, he always found some excuse to hurry away.
Even still, people had been quick to reassure him of their forgiveness – even if the diamonds had ultimately vanished, most of the Hermits were more inclined to simply move on.
And yet, Ren couldn’t… he just couldn’t bring himself to let go so easily.
That crown had changed him. And it wasn’t a change he had liked.
Ren had never thought of himself as a power-hungry sort, had thought he would be able to handle the heavy weight of the crown. After all, Bdubs’ praise had rung true – he was dedicated to working hard, had cared so deeply about the well-being of the Hermits, had wanted nothing but the best for the entire server.
And yet, it had all gone so wrong. All because Ren refused to admit that he was in over his head.
He was startled out of his thoughts by a sharp pinch on his arm. He yelped, startling hard enough that some of his wine sloshed out of his cup and onto the dark grass.
“Hey!” He protested, rubbing the spot with a pout.
“Sorry, man.” Doc chuckled, not sounding very sorry. “But I could practically hear the gears of your brain chugging. Stop thinking so hard and just relax. ”
Relax. Right. Ren sighed.
“I… I want to, but. I gotta ask, dude. What are you doing here?”
Doc cocked his head. He looked… he looked nice, like this. The shine of his eye highlighted his face in the darkness, red light and silver moonglow mixing to give him an ethereal edge.
“Hanging out with my friend.” Doc answered, as though it were obvious.
“I…” Ren groaned, not able to help the way he curled in on himself. “Aren’t you, I don’t know… mad?”
“Why?”
“For the king thing!” Ren spluttered. “I was totally off my rocker, dude! And I was… I was hurting people. I was hurting you.”
Doc was silent for a moment. Ren swallowed thickly – maybe he was reconsidering this whole visit. Not that he would really blame him.
But when he glanced over, he saw that Doc had pulled out what appeared to be an entire bowl filled with strawberries, and was contentedly munching on them.
When Doc saw his expression, he grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. But these are pretty good – you should try one.”
Ren grumbled under his breath, but nevertheless grabbed a strawberry, teeth sinking into the sweet fruit. Void, they were good. Doc had one hell of a green thumb – literally and figuratively, he supposed.
“Ren, I’ll be honest.” Doc sighed after a moment, tossing the top of his strawberry out towards the bottom of the hill. “I think I should be mad, right? You did hurt people. You did hurt me. But… well, I’ve just been worried. I’ve been worried since you first put that crown on your head. So now, the only thing I feel is relief.”
Ren was silent, mouth filled with the juicy, tender flesh of the strawberry.
“But now you’ve gotten me all worried again.” Doc leaned back, face turning towards the endless stars. “No one can get a hold of you anymore. All you do is work, and once you’re done working, you run off somewhere quiet like this. All this solitude isn’t good for you, man. Especially not after something like… well. You already know.”
“I just don’t want to hurt people anymore than I already have.” Ren blurted out, then winced at his own raw honesty.
“Then come back to us. Every moment you hide away, we only get more worried.”
“But I… I can’t.” Ren’s ears flattened against his head, and he couldn’t help the low whine that tore its way out of his throat. “Last time I tried to help, I nearly destroyed the damn server. And then, before that, with the Octagon, I… I tried so hard. I tried so hard to save everyone. And I know things worked out in the end. But I know everyone still carries that… that weight. Of how things went. All because I couldn’t figure it out fast enough.”
Ren felt a soft touch against the back of his hand. He instinctively reached out, fully grasping Doc’s hand in his own.
It was a wonderful feeling – strong and warm, and achingly familiar. The hands that had helped him through thick and thin, that had stayed by his side through an actual apocalypse.
The hands that had tried to kill him. The hands that now forgave him.
“What the hell is this ‘I’ business, man?” Doc laughed. “ We failed to decipher those codes. I was just as involved as you were.”
“But…”
“No buts.” Doc said firmly. “You are one of the sweetest, strongest people I know, Ren. I won’t let you take that away from yourself because of things out of your control.”
“The king thing wasn’t out of my control.” Ren pointed out.
“No, it wasn’t. That one was all you.” Doc threw his head back and laughed, and despite everything, Ren couldn’t help but smile. “But like I said. We all want Ren back. The real Ren-Diggety-Dog.”
“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” Ren laughed, though it was honestly already too late – his cheeks were pink at Doc’s ridiculous words.
“If you blush, you blush.” Doc leaned in, and for a moment Ren thought he was actually going to kiss him.
But instead, he just rested his chin on the top of Ren’s head. Even still, the proximity had Ren’s tail thumping wildly against the ground.
“I’ve missed you.” Ren murmured. “Missed you ever since the end of last season, dude.”
“Then why didn’t you come hang out with me?” Doc hummed. “My doors are open. Very open, in fact. Side effect of not having doors. Or walls.”
Ren laughed, and even in the dim light, he could see his breath moving the soft green fur on Doc’s chest. “I just… I wasn’t sure you would want to see me. Because of… of last season.”
“You’re crazy, man.” Doc shook his head. “We were both responsible for that.”
“No, that’s not what I…” Ren sighed. “I thought you might’ve realized that I… I thought you might’ve realized how I felt. About you. And I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”
There was a long stretch of silence. Ren felt his heart hammering in his chest, and he had to suppress the urge to run off again, find another dark, quiet place to hide.
And then he felt a hand cup his chin.
Any thoughts he had of running away immediately shorted out, brain going completely blank at the touch.
Doc pulled him back, tilting his head up so they locked eyes. His expression was strangely serious, and his eyes blazed with some unidentifiable emotion.
“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying…” Doc inhaled sharply. “Then you’re even more crazy than I thought.”
And before he could process the implications of that, Doc was already leaning in.
His lips were so much softer than Ren had ever imagined – had ever dared to imagine. A wonderful shiver ran down his spine, and he practically melted at the touch, the terrible thoughts that had been haunting him banished at the reassurance that he was wanted.
Doc pulled away, and Ren had to fight the instinct to pull him back down for another.
“Hm.” Doc hummed thoughtfully.
“... ‘Hm’?” Ren responded. “Was there – hey. There was no way a kiss from Ren-Diggety-Dog was bad .”
“No, it’s not that. I was just thinking that I should give you some of the lip balm I make. It’s all naturally sourced wax, y’know.”
Ren laughed, playfully punching him in the arm. “Yeah, whatever dude.”
Even still, he didn’t move away – in fact, he leaned back in, resting his head against Doc’s chest.
Doc fully embraced him, running a supportive hand along Ren’s back. “But seriously… I always want to be here for you. You freak me out sometimes, man, putting so much on yourself like that.”
“Then you need to stop working twelve-hour days all the time.” Ren growled. “I don’t want to keep finding you passed out next to dangerous crushing machines.”
“Mm. I make no promises. How else will the perimeter take over the rest of the server?”
Ren nipped at him playfully, and the two fell into an easy silence, once more gazing out at the brilliant night sky.
He wasn’t… he still wasn’t sure how ready he felt to return to the rest of the server. But one thing was for certain – he felt much stronger with Doc’s hands holding him steady.