New Plans

Lonely Reconciliation

My chapter names are inconsistent. One's called UwU and this one has the word Reconciliation innit. What is wrong with me?
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Philza remembered a time before the two boys fell into his life. It had little variety in his experiences, which made most of the memories bleed together into a long mess. With a few memories that were mostly near death experiences an in one particular case, an actual death. When he was young he wasn't that close to anyone. Sure he had his parents, his father being much more of a bird hybrid than he was. And his mother being human. His brother had these pearly white feathers and an abnormaly large wingspan. This made him the star of the show all the time. Making their parents proud all the time and the only hybrid the village really accepted. While Philza had dark feathers. And his wings were no where near as angelic or large. While Phil's brother constantly did things he'd get praised for, Phil spent his time trying to figure out how his family could see glass and avoid it. It seemed like he got the short end of the hybrid stick. Phil eventually gave up and steered clear of spots that looked like they held windows. (Which is why his house has stained glass instead of regular glass.) Phil's brother became full of himself at some point in their childhood and Phil because the play thing for his brother. He so wanted to ditch this dumb house.

Phil wasn't horribly neglected, but thanks to his brother, as soon as he was an adult legally, he left his home with plans to never return. Phil had a little adventure of his own in a small town nearby, and soon he started to gain a name for himself. Finally he was getting recognition! It wasn't until he got mugged in the street for being the "filthy hybrid pop star" that he realized how hard publicity was. Maybe he should've given his brother a little more credit. He skipped town after that. He realized that on the trip to the next town that he liked the idea of being alone. No one to outshine and no one to idolize you. No one to judge you except yourself.

Phil spent all his time adventuring in untamed overgrowth, fire dimensions, and everything in between. And he went to a new town once he got tired again. He was much more skilled by that point. Knowing a lot about mobs and how the world worked. He gave his wisdom to anyone who'd listen. Which wasn't many here. There was one naive young man that would listen to the stories he'd tell on the town square. Not many people came to listen but he did. One night Philza was walking home when he heard a scream. It was in an alley and a hybrid hunter was mad at the man. He was yelling about how he made him lose his catch. Catch was a nasty word. It made them sound like and animal. Horrid thing to say about a person.

The young man was terrified. Phil hid behind the corner. He was a hybrid. He couldn't just go in there?! The hunter had weapons specifically for hybrids of any type. But as Phil watched the hunter, quite literally, kick him when he's down. Phil realized that no one would come to his aid. People could hear him cry, and they did not care. To their ears. It was 'probably a hunter "doing a service" and removing a hybrid from the world.' Phil couldn't stand for this. Not when he could do something. Not when he was the only one who would.

"Hey!" Oh geez, why was he doing this... "Leave him alone! What'd he ever do to you?!" Phil shouted like he had an overdose of courage. He was anything but. This wasn't some zombie, or Skeleton, or creeper. This was a hunter. And judging from the badges on his clothing. A skilled one at that.

"This, bird brain, this little TWAT! Made me lose my catch. But it seems like I've found a replacement."

Fu**. He'd seen his wings. They were too big to hide behind his back.

The hunter stood up and pulled out a netherite sword. It wasn't enchanted but netherite was netherite. Oh why were hunters so well funded?!

He charged at Phil who rolled to the left and pulled out a diamond sword of his own. He attempted to crit him but it failed when the man threw a sharp metal boomerang and it bounced against the walls and clipped the tip of Phil's wing. Wings always had many nerves in them and we're very sensitive. His large wings shot in as he yelped and almost dropped his sword. He fumbled to keep the sword in his hand in sheer instinct. The hunter smiled sickeningly. And jumped on the opportunity to slash at his chest.