Your City was Once Mine - DSMP Oneshot

It Was Supposed To Fall

Eret blinked slowly, letting the light of the bloody sunrise seep through his sunglasses. His fingers found their way to the edges of his dirtied uniform, where he could feel the fine layer of dust, dirt, and blood coating his traitorous cloth.

He pulled off the coat and shook it out onto the golden dew-tipped grass. A small cloud of dust shone in the morning sun before it blew into the wind and dissipated. Eret folded the collar as to not wrinkle it, even though he knew he could never dawn the faded colors again.

The dyed navy blue had been slightly washed out after countless hours of enduring heavy work in the sun. Eret ran his finger over the messy seams joining the worn fabric. He could remember the story to every row of extra stitches and every stain that would refuse to wash away.

He couldn't help but let out a heavy breath as he thought about how Fundy had once spilled ink all over the van. The black paw splotch was still noticable on the bottom of his left sleeve.

Yesterday, he was planning on giving Fundy a new uniform before the war, but he never found the time. The kid was growing too quickly for Eret to keep up, so he preemptively always made the next size for him.

Now Eret was stood alone in the forest with a uniform for a kid that would never look at him the same way again.

Tommy used to come to Eret with new holes in his jackets and his pants; he even managed to get his hat stuck in one of the lower branches of the spruce trees one day. Tubbo had throw it up there, which was honestly deserved for messing with his telescope station.

But Eret wouldn't be making any more uniforms. He was king.

Yesterday, Tommy's uniform was practically ripped to shreds.

Tommy lost two lives within the span of a couple hours, but more than that, he lost his trust in Eret.

Tommy would never come running up to him with the same enthusiasm as he did before yesterday.

Eret couldn't deny that even as he celebrated his victory with Dream, the feeling was fraud. The welling tears in Fundy's eyes poured oceans of excruciating pain that cast Eret as irredeemable, and Wilbur's harsh relentless glare could have driven him to the grave. Tubbo was shaking and couldn't even meet his gaze and Tommy's eyes were fixated on Dream as if he already knew what was to come.

Yesterday was a day that no one would forget.

Everyone's uniform had new tears. Everyone's uniform except for Eret's.

Eret didn't wear the uniform because it was pretty, he wore it because it had given him a purpose. As he held it in his hands, he couldn't find the motivation to get rid of his old coat like he should have.

Instead, he stuffed it in the deepest corner of his enderchest, where hopefully it would blend in with the void. Instead, the loose blue threads only stood out more next to the diamonds and emeralds.

Yet the old uniform that was falling apart held more value to him than the most expensive ores.

Eret was used to the calls of the ravens in the morning and the rustling of the trees around him, but he couldn't stop focusing on the gut wrenching feeling of loss.

The king, as the others would learn to call him, sat upon his newly claimed empire of untouched mud and dense spruce forest. Everything that they sacrificed, their materials, their lives, their power, and their friends, all amounted to acres of land.

Even yet, it felt too small.

He had a handcrafted obsidian chest to hold a pocket of the universe, just to store his piles of the most valuable rarities from across the realms. He had stacks of riches that common people would gravel at his knees for. He had wealth because he chose the right side.

He had armor enchanted by the gods that had acted as mere decoration because when he confidently walked onto the battlefield, the flaming arrows whizzing past their heads were never aimed at him. His life was never at risk because he chose the right side.

He had the choice to change the course of history with a simple command. He held the reigns of war in the grasp of his palms, and he could sew peace or destruction at his own will. He had power because he chose the right side.

Part of him wished that if he were to venture over the hill dividing L'manburg and his temporary camp of exile, his friends would return a smile and welcome him once again with open arms.

He would gather all his fabric and start sewing uniforms and he would help repair the damage from the explosions.

In reality, Wilbur would never let him try to help. Tommy would never let him get anywhere near the walls. Tubbo would never invite him to build the space station with him. Fundy would never feel safe around him.

Victory tasted sweet on his tongue for the moments Dream patted him on the back.

The small handshake that Dream had given Eret to document his rise to kingship.

The nagging advice that Dream insisted would make the server better.

Eret was promised that Tommy and Fundy would be safe after L'manburg was gone.

He was told that he would have the power to help them all for as long as he was loyal.

Eret removed his sunglasses and let the sun sting his eyes. He stared at the ground and his lips twisted into a regretful grimace.

Dream lied.