Awaken (Hermitcraft Fanfiction)

X. Hidden Agenda

TW: physical abuse, mental breakdown, blood, mention of death

Pearl glanced around the tiny room she had constructed beneath her empire, the Gilded Helianthia. Rods of bamboo were scattered around the room, mixed with small bushes and flowers. The floor was coarse and dusty, following her theme of agriculture. Each color had been carefully chosen to portray life and growth in the room. The only purpose of her empire was to fit with the theme the Watchers had set for them. However, it was refreshing to build after years of combat and war strategy.

She always inspected it countless times before using it as a space to safely summon a portal. It never hurt to ensure none of the server's members were present. Despite her attempts to remain aloof, several members – Sausage in particular – were adamant about spending time with her. Her own inquisitiveness had never stretched as far. In retrospection, she realized the numbing effect the Watchers had on her. She was used to seeing and knowing with a minimal margin for error.

She shuddered, remembering the awful day when she had yelled Jimmy's name in front of the whole server. Her exclamation had been met with bewilderment in most cases, and suspicion and distrust from Jim himself. A month later on the server – little more than a week in the Watcher's realm – she was confronted brutally by Xalyn for the slip-up. She hid in the base she'd made for several days afterward, using her magic to heal.

Pearl smiled grimly as she opened the portal to the Watcher's city. She knew the ugly truth behind the existence of the server, although she remained unaware of the motives Xalyn and the council held behind their actions. She stepped through the swirling hues of silver, stepping lightly onto the landing pad she had grown accustomed to using. Her mask reappeared on her face, obscuring her eyes. She dropped the spells she used to hear the other members and conceal her weapons, letting the obsidian blade shimmer into existence on the side of her backpack.

She swallowed, fingering the scar that wrapped around her left clavicle and shoulder blade. She traced it mentally, reliving the blistering pain that had resulted from Xalyn's anger. It was a lesser mistake, but the punishment was not reduced. She took several deep breaths, forcing the memory from her mind, and entered the room.

Xalyn was increasing in aggression and outbursts. Their face was livid before she reached the center of the room, prepared to highlight her mistakes. Each one was, in her opinion, minuscule. However, the weight of their blows were unrestricted. She was different. She didn't perform the way they expected. She would never know if she performed better or worse than the others. Each time she left Empires for a report, she braced herself to weather the attacks and slander, and then recuperated silently in her base. She never controlled magic. Xalyn didn't know what she did differently, or why it worked, but they hated it.

Finally, the abuse ended. Bile rose in her throat as she locked her knees to remain standing and pulled her cloak tighter around her. Scerx brusquely gestured to the door.

"Is there nothing else for me to know?" she asked. It was the same question each time, yet they never gave her new orders or instructions.

"Do you think there is?" they snapped back, thrusting her toward the door. "Go!"

She nodded, backing out and striding down the hall. She leaned against a window, tracing the subtle lines and shifts in the Void with her eyes. An angry snap echoed down the hall and she bolted, thrusting down her discomfort, opening a portal at the edge of a platform, launching herself off the edge, and sealing it behind her.

She tumbled in the dirt, coughing violently. Her throat was parched as she took deep breaths of air. Her mask and sword melted away as she reactivated her wards, and her regular outfit replaced the tattered uniform. Finally, she reopened her ears to the sounds of the world and dropped to the ground, exhausted.