Acrylic Waves (Bk 1)

XXII. Omen

Darkness is all around. A faint breeze blows through my hair, blowing it back and forth. I feel the exhaustion soaking through my body, wondering where I am. I must have died permanently; Lid's sword had the enchantment on it. I look around, noticing that the ground and surroundings are metallic blacks.

There must be a light source somewhere. I search for it, finally identifying a tiny orb floating some distance away. I approach it, and it grows, becoming the size of the average beach ball. I reach out to touch it, and it transports me to a world.

The first thing I notice is that I'm translucent, telling me that I can't be seen by any players. The second thing I notice is it's the Hermitcraft server spawn island, with the surrounding ocean and islands. A small group of hermits is huddled on a dirt platform, but I didn't go there. I already know what I'm going to find.

A blast of rockets to the south grabs my attention, and I follow it, beating my wings to soar after the retreating player. I fly at my own leisure, confident that I will find them sooner or later.

Arriving at the island I saw the player fly to, I landed on the beach, taking a moment to explore the island, walking through its cool forests, emerging into a thick jungle.

I spy the tall cliff at the edge of a small lake and glimpse a flash of metal over the top of it. I fly up and spectate the last duel between brothers, one unwilling to kill the other. I watch Hels knock Wels back, effectively killing him.

"He'll be back," the armor-clad player murmurs. Raising his voice he says, "Xenelis, I'm so sorry. Maybe this isn't what you would have wanted, but I can't live anymore. I hope I'll see you again in the afterlife if there is one."

He leaps off the cliff, plummeting a hundred blocks to the sand on the beach at the bottom. I try to save him, stop his fall, but he goes straight through my hands.

Helsknight fell from a high place

No communicator nor respawn. Ghostly tears spill from my eyes, passing through the ground. The rockets return, this time with several sets. Wels, xB, and Etho land on the shore of the lake, mourning the loss of another player. They lift the lifeless man to fly back to spawn, and I follow. It almost makes me want to die again.

I watch the tearful proceedings from a vantage point high above the shopping district. The two simple gravestones lay next to each other, perhaps symbolizing that Hels and I can only be together in death. How sad it is that I am watching my own funeral.

I fly to Xisuma's base, using the ghostly remnants of my magic to flip through his chests. One last prank, if you will. I find the book and quill he uses as his to-do list. Flipping past the admin and base lists, I make an additional page to write a letter. Just a simple one.

I put the book down on a shulker in the middle of the tower, confident that he would find it. I look at the world around me, fondling the precious memories. I had made some form of friendship between myself and other players, after many years of remaining aloof. That, in itself, is an achievement.

I break contact with the orb, letting out a sigh. I look around at my surroundings again: nothing but pure, reflective black. The absolute silence is repressive, triggering the strongest sense of loneliness I've felt in a long time.

"Yeah, the spectator's world gets really lonely. That's why I visit."

I spin around to see a tall man standing next to the orb, which had shrunk down to its previous size. He's wearing a dark grey shirt with a grass block on it and jeans. I recognize his face from the many epics and myths stored in the Watcher Library. Literature class: we were forced to take it for no reason I could identify.