Author's note:
Wels is a knight. Literally. Far gone from his former life, he's still adapting to modern society now (with Jevin and Biffa ready to help).
But what exactly caused our precious knight to enter the modern world?
A quick summary of a few major events in Wels' life so far. Starting from when his old life ended and ending when his new life continues.
... You'll understand better once you've read it ;3
Trigger warning: Character death and implied death. Also, a lot of '—————' time-skips!
Headcannons in this chapter:
- Wels is a literal knight
- Dragons are/ were a thing. The time period made it very hard to combat dragons, so they appeared more; now, it's easier to fight back, so they don't show up as much
- The Hermitcraft server was a normal 'world' before it was chosen and established as a server (because it seemed... Different to the others that could've been chosen)
- Before the Hermitcraft server was the Hermitcraft server, no codey-rules were made. Therefore, fires spreading and permadeath were a thing
- Wels is very wary of fire
- Jevin was the one who found Wels. Biffa and Jevin immediately wanted the cute- sorry, cool knight to stay
- It took Wels some time to learn modern English. To this day, he still sometimes reverts back to old English without thinking, but he doesn't mix up his two English-es as much anymore
- Wels doesn't remember much about his old life. He sometimes remembers small flashes, but nothing really big. The biggest two things so far are mentioned in this story
- Jevin and Biffa are supportive bo-best friends. Their relationship did have development (like Dad and Papa's in 'Bittersweet'), but this is a Wels-lore chapter
————————————————
Wels awoke to a beautiful, blue sky. He didn't quite remember how he got here, but for some reason, he knew that he was ok.
Maybe it was because of the pretty maiden, whose lap he was currently resting in. After such a long battle, she told him that the least she could've done as a thank you was let him rest.
Wels had sung her a small song, a faint pink dusting his cheeks as he recalled this. She was overjoyed to hear it...
'What a nice girl.' Wels mused. His helmet had been discarded to the side and the pretty maiden was braiding his mid-long, blond hair. Wels couldn't help but find the rhythmic raking of her fingers through his hair soothing.
Time and time again, he found his gaze skimming over the open meadow the two rested in. On such a lovely day, soft green grasses and vibrant flower petals seemed particularly lush.
Cornflowers and poppies and dandelions dotted the wide expanse: flowers he adored. Not because they were flowers Wels would consciously choose to plant, but because they reminded him of this.
The calm moments between battles, the tranquility between adventures. Such wild and fantastical things had he encountered, yet none could quite match the feeling he felt resting here, with his maiden beside him.
Speaking of which, she had finished his braid a few moments ago. If Wels had memorised this event well enough (which he had), she should be weaving in the wildflowers she'd collected while he was asleep.
The village people were far beyond the point of surprised when seeing flowers in their knight's braid.
There would always be one flower distinctly prettier than the others, carefully positioned above his right ear. It had started as a coincidence, but now... Well, Wels didn't actually know. He never found the need to ask, so never did.
However, he knew that it always brought a proud smile to her face every time she saw it in his hair. That meant he would be proud of it too.
Such a simple thing it was: a deep azure cornflower with one petal too big. Perhaps there was some hidden meaning behind it: a secret message, or an unspoken promise?
This didn't matter to Wels now. In the future, maybe he'd be more intrigued to discover the answer, but now... He was perfectly fine without it.
Right now, under the endlessly calm sky, Wels was at peace. His maiden was close, his mind at ease; there was nothing to cause him distress. So he gave in to his drooping eyelids, content and relaxed, just as his maiden slotted in the final flower.
—————
The final flower.
It seemed like such an innocent phrase at the time.
And there she was, in his arms, staring up at him with those innocent eyes. His helmet had been discarded to the side and golden locks of hair cascaded down his back, matted and dirtier than he remembered.
What had happened? Wels swore he was happy just a few moments ago...
Yet here he was. Tears falling from his eyes. He was blinking them away furiously: they obscured her expression from him, they made her harder to see, they blurred her wonderful face.
Hot and bothered... Underneath his armour. It was no longer cool- an angry, dry wind crept across the ruined landscape, village reduced to ashes and villagers...
... That was to be determined.
Still, he had tried so hard. He had tried so hard to protect her from the flames, the force, the sheer hatred, but he'd still failed. He'd failed her.
Wels could never apologise enough for this blunder, regardless of the many desperate, shuddering, sorrowful murmurs he was whispering to her. None of it would matter, why was he even trying anymore?
He had failed her. And he would never forgive himself for it. Never, he promised. He would never forgive or forget what he'd done to her.
But what was this? A gentle hand on his cheek. A small smile gracing her face, which he could still make out through his many tears.
It was too late. Both of them knew it, but in that curved, saddened smile...
It was confirmed.
She asked him why he was so silent and somber; her mouth struggled to form every word. Each syllable seemed like torture. Wels only could respond with a choked sob. If he could, he would've given in to his guilt and carried on with the apologises.
But that hand made him try. It made him force what he hoped was a comforting smile to his face. Fuelled by her weakening touch, the grief-stricken man opened his mouth, letting a familiar tune flow out.
She held on until the final note.
Until she could hold on no longer.
—————
He could hold on no longer.
Every surviving villager in the area would remember that day: the almost animalistic scream of pain was scarred into the backs of their mind.
Far in the future, young children would ask their parents to tell them a story. A story passed down from generation to generation, which had been told to the parents by their parents, and so on.
The children loved hearing that story. They were enchanted, enraptured by that tale; it never seemed to become redundant in the slightest. Of course, they never actually believed it to be real- how could it be?
Still. No one in the flourishing village would dare touch any cornflower with one petal too big. Anyone who lived there knew it was one of the deepest signs of disrespect one could show: in their village, this story was well known.
There was only one part the children didn't yet know about the story: the true ending.
For you see, dear reader, the story did not end with the maiden's death. The children would be told when their minds had matured a little more... But we are allowed to know, for it is what I shall tell you now.
The knight had helped in rebuilding the village. There was a shared understanding that nothing was quite the same anymore, especially so to him. But the villagers never thought he'd do what he did.
One day, they had arisen to find him gone. A note lay on his bed, explaining he'd gone on another adventure and may take some time to return. His armour had been taken. No one had suspected anything wrong.
Then two weeks passed.
Then two months passed.
Four.
Twelve.
Twenty...
It had become increasingly clear that their beloved knight would not return. Some feared he had been kidnapped. Others speculated that he'd lost his way. A select few suspected the worst. Nothing was ever confirmed...
Until nearly two years later, when a tired travelling merchant stopped by their village to rest. They had welcomed him in with warm arms, and both enjoyed the others presence. Everyone chatted about menial matters, their businesses, their friends, their stories.
The subject of their missing knight was brought up, and at once, the merchant's face darkened. The villagers asked him what was wrong.
He told them he knew what had happened.
Excitement exploded through the villagers present; hugs and joyful tears were exchanged. The village mayor was summoned, and the few villagers currently living in their village all came over to hear the merchant's story.
Not once did his face brighten.
He told them he had been hiking across an icy mountain range when all of a sudden, a ferocious dragon burst out from a nearby ravine.
He was terrified, and the dragon was furious- a scorching blast of fire narrowly missed him as he fled, screeching and clumsily dodging mini avalanches. However, after a while, he realised the dragon was no longer focused on him.
The merchant was thoroughly confused as he turned back around: what had distracted the dragon's attention?
It was the villagers' knight.
Everything that happened after shook the merchant down to his core. It took him ten minutes to recover, but he carried on telling the story. For the sake of those present... To finally give them some sort of closure.
As the knight battled the beast, he noticed the merchant staring at him in awe. Then he gave an unsteady bow, calling out a last wish with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
The merchant jumped up in horror just as the knight leapt over the chasm, plunging his sword into the dragon's left eye. With a roar of anguish, the dragon swung the knight's grip off of his sword and fell down, down, down into the frozen wasteland below. Bringing the knight down with them.
As added cruelty, the sheer impact of this plummet caused a true avalanche to occur. Tons upon tons of snow and ice flooded down into the depths, sealing both man and beast's fate forever.
That drop was deadly.
It was only later that the merchant understood the strange timing of such events. A fire dragon of that size alone in a cold climate was near impossible... Unless someone had attracted it there.
The knight's intent was now clear to all.
Around the merchant, every villager was silent. Each of them came back to the realm of reality one by one, mourning their lost hero. The atmosphere had become unreasonably thick.
Amidst the pain of the others, the merchant stood up and left.
He left the village that night with a heavy heart; even though he knew this was what the knight wanted... The guilt tore him apart.
Though he was never told, the merchant knew he couldn't return to this village again for some time.
—————
Some time.
It had been some time.
Some time since what...? He had no clue.
What had happened... Why was it... Why was it so cold...
He was alone. And it was deathly cold.
—————
Trapped... He couldn't move.
Trapped, without escape.
Trapped, without anyone knowing.
Trapped, without any clue what had lead him here.
... How long had it been...?
—————
What... What was he supposed to remember...? There... There were a few things... Yes, a few things coming back...
His... His name was... His name was Wels.
—————
He had... Mid-long... No, he could've sworn some time had passed, so it must be longer... Long, golden hair...
... Blue eyes, he reckoned...
He liked blue...
—————
He was... A knight.
What was a knight doing here...? How... How long had it been...?
—————
...
Something was moving. Moving above... Above him...
Sand... Or was it snow? He guessed snow, since sand should've had colour... It was being shovelled aside...
A... Something... Looking at him... Was it looking...? He wouldn't know from inside here...
From the way it moved, it was a biped... Strong. Agile. Possibly human... But it wasn't coloured correctly to be a human being...
There was no peachy skin colour: the majority of this being's 'skin' was actually blue. In fact, it was nearly the same shade of blue as the wall of ice Wels had long since deduced he was trapped in. It made the curious biped a little hard to see.
It didn't wear the brown or white clothing Wels was used to seeing either... The first thing he noticed was that they wore something that looked like armour... A very shiny, different type of blue... Was this creature in danger...?
Their (presumably) 'shirt' or 'jacket' was an off-shade of white, though the design was foreign. The waistband of their trousers was completely black, which surprised Wels- black dye was usually hard to come by. Again, it was of a material he didn't recognise.
What was this thing, exactly...?
It had moved again. It was moving now... It had to be vaguely human-like at least, as from its movements and the vibrations Wels felt through the ice... Was it... Was it breaking him out?
The strange biped worked away at his chunk of ice for a few minutes with a shiny blue tool. The tool in question looked like a pickaxe, but with how out-of-place this creature already seemed, Wels wasn't sure.
With one final smash, the ice broke. Without his icy prison holding him, Wels fell forward ungraciously. The blue-white-black creature caught him in their arms, rubbing his back while he shivered violently.
Wels heard the creature murmur something but couldn't quite decipher what it was.
As he rasped and started getting used to breathing again, the creature started taking off his chest-plate.
What... What was the strange being doing...?
Unable to stop it, Wels felt his heavy armour come off. He tried taking it back, but his vision had yet to adjust and he grabbed at the creature's arm instead. Wels was shaking too much to get a firm grip on it anyway, so it pulled away with relative ease.
Suddenly, he then felt something being pulled over his head gently. To his surprise, Wels realised that this strange being had just given him their 'jacket'; he even felt his arms being pulled through the sleeves.
Wels was also surprised at how warm and soft this article of clothing was. He curled into it instinctively, breathing a sigh of relief as he felt himself slowly warm up.
A flame appeared out of the corner of his eye.
The knight glanced over at his companion, who was currently tapping on a clear board of... Metal? Tapping on a weird board of metal, next to the fire.
The fire.
... Fire...
Fire... Was... Bad?
Fire was bad.
His vision became clear once more. Wels grabbed at his saviour and pulled him back as strongly as his cold hands could manage.
They seemed surprised as they looked at him, with a questioning expression. They did not fear the fire as he did.
It was then that Wels realised that this creature was indeed a creature... A... A strange being made of clear, blue slime... Perhaps a descendant of the slime family...? But they had saved his life... So Wels wouldn't be afraid.
Not knowing if his newfound companion spoke English, Wels only pointed to the fire fearfully.
He opened his mouth to explain through chattering teeth, but his tongue was leaden. Luckily his saviour seemed to understand, waiting patiently for Wels to begin.
"Fire is ill, mine gracious saviour." As a knight, Wels shouldn't forget his manners, even if said saviour had started not-so-secretly gawking at him. "I would not for thou to be harmed after thine bravery."
"... You're actually a knight." The slime-man muttered, eyes wide with shock. "... Xisuma and Biffa better come over fast... Um... What... What is... Be thy name?"
They understood him! And spoke English! In a very odd sort of way but they could communicate, which was the most important thing to consider. With a half-grin (it was still a bit chilly, even with the helpful creature's 'jacket' and controlled fire), Wels sat up straighter.
"Mine name is Wels, the honourable knight of..." At this, the knight trailed off, puzzled. After a few moments of wordless debate he carried on, albeit a little more hesitant than before. "... Mine remembrance is... Failing me... What-What be thy name?"
"... Jevin... Is mine... Name. I'm a slime hybrid."
"Jevin the slime... High-bred? Jevin of which village or town?"
"... Just Jevin is fine... I... I live with my- mine friends here on the Hermitcraft server, I guess... You'll- Thy shalt be meeting them very soon." Jevin grinned at the nice knight he'd already become very attached to.
Of course, there was still the matter of what to do with him. Xisuma would want to know everything, no doubt, and then it'd be up to him and Biffa whether or not Wels could join the hermits.
The thing that bugged Jevin the most, however, was that he didn't know how to tell his new friend about the potentially huge time-skip he'd undergone.
Sure, the knight could probably tell some time had changed and a few things were new... But Wels still seemed to think he was mainly in the... Whichever time period he lived in previously.
The poor thing's old life was probably completely gone... But he was living history...
Jevin made a promise right then and there to help Wels as much as possible with adjusting to the new world. He'd be there every step of the way: he'd teach him about technology, new crafts, culture, language, everything. So long as Wels would be happy.
Wels himself didn't quite notice this: he had quickly become enthralled with Jevin's hand and squeezed it softly.
———
"... Jevin, Biffa?"
"Yeah, Wels?"
"What's the matter?"
"... I... I remembered something..."
At once, the two other men were beside him, visibly excited to hear what it was.
Since Jevin had first found him (and he'd been told about his... Time-skip), Wels was happy to say that he'd begun remembering small bits and pieces of his past life.
It usually wasn't anything big or important; just a flash of an outfit, a battle stance he'd once used, a conversation he'd once partaken in. But Biffa and Jevin always loved hearing it anyway.
It made Wels feel a tiny jolt of pride every time this transpired (as well as a stirring of some other emotion... Which he wasn't going to act upon just yet...).
"What was it?" Jevin pondered, thinking back to previous memory-resurfaces. "A person? An adventure? A monster?"
Wels shook his head and chuckled, taking out a piece of paper to show to the others.
His beautiful, curly handwriting was very recognisable within the Hermitcraft server. As a knight, Wels' calligraphy was something seen regularly in historical letters belonging to royalty; his normal handwriting did not disappoint.
Biffa took the paper in his hands carefully, finger brushing against Wels' as he did so. On his right, Jevin pressed himself against the cyborg's arm to get a better look.
The writer stood to the side apprehensively, chewing on his lip (a terrible habit he'd never been able to stop). He waited for Biffa and Jevin to read the short song fully before gingerly giving an explanation.
"I apologise for mine... My... I remember not what it's purpose of being is. I had a feeling it was important to me, however, so... I hath decided... Decided that I should share it with the people whom I consider important..." Wels spoke quietly, stumbling over his words. When he'd finished, he already knew that his face had flushed, especially at his last statement.
If he'd looked up, he'd see exactly how touched his friends were. Very. Extremely. It meant so much to them.
Within seconds, Wels found himself enveloped by two pair of arms. Jevin said his thank you out loud, with his face next to Wels' ear. Biffa whispered his thanks instead, needing to lean down so the knight could hear him properly.
He didn't know how he did, but Wels somehow managed to hear both of them over the pounding of his own heart.
———
Wels awoke to a beautiful, blue sky. He didn't quite remember how he got here, but for some reason, he knew that he was ok.
Maybe it was because of the two men who had joined him in his relaxing. Wels knew that they'd protect him no matter what, and he'd do the same for them.
His helmet had been discarded to the side and Biffa was expertly braiding his long, golden hair. Wels couldn't help but find the rhythmic raking of his fingers through his hair soothing.
Feeling sentimental, the knight recalled that this skill was something Biffa had taught himself just for Wels. For him to have started off clueless and struggle with every previous attempt, this was significant progress. It was something Wels would always find very sweet.
As the usually 'scary' cyborg continued, Wels saw Jevin thread a few flowers into the braid, with the upmost care. The slime hybrid had somehow learned precisely how many, where and what type of flowers to place to make Wels the happiest.
Truth be told, the flowers were only partially notable; the knight was more focused on his friend's looks of joy.
Cornflowers and poppies and dandelions were all in the slime's hands: flowers Wels adored. Not because they were flowers Wels would consciously choose to plant, but because they reminded him of this.
The moments he got to spend with his two precious friends. The server was amazing, never failing to bring new wonderful and exhilarating things each and every day... But it was the quiet moments with Jevin and Biffa that Wels treasured too.
This little activity had become a habit already: the other hermits had gone far beyond the point of surprised when seeing the knight with flowers in his braid.
There would always be one flower distinctly prettier than the others, fondly positioned above his right ear. It had started with them acting upon a past memory Wels had, which told him that he liked having that specific flower there, but now... Wels knew it was because they liked it too.
He also knew that it always brought a proud smile to their faces every time they saw it in his hair. He would never grow tired of seeing that expression.
Such a simple thing the causer was: a deep azure cornflower with one petal too big. There was no secret meaning behind it: the other two men simply thought it made Wels look very pretty.
It was them who encouraged Wels to keep this flower-braid-tradition up, even though the knight wouldn't have minded either way. So long as he could be with them.
In the future, maybe he'd grow enough confidence to ask to put flowers in their hair, but for now...
He was perfectly fine with this.
——————————————
Author's note
A bittersweet ending: a new one for me!
And yeah, I know loads of senpais have written Wels' backstory as the old dragon-ice-timeskip...
And him having gorgeous long hair...
And him having a few medieval traits...
And they've probably done a better job than me when writing it, but you know what?
It just means that we all love our darling knight babi ^w^!
Oh! And here's the 'short song/ lullaby' that inspired the creation of this story : D!
'Come little butterfly,
Won't you come home to me?
The winds won't stop howling
So please come back quickly'
'My dear, my darling,
The forest- hear it call...
'Join us, please join us
We await your arrival.'
'But there's spiders in the woods
Their silken art their lair
Their dance is hypnotic
And their venom ensnares'
'Come little butterfly,
To rest in your home
I'll keep you warm and dry
And you'll never be alone...'