Tango was watching Skizz again. He seemed to do that a lot these days, now that Skizz was so close by.
Skizz seemed to know, sometimes, most times. He would often pull Tango out of hiding by simply being Skizz: leaving trees floating, spamming torches and signs, etc. And, well, who was Tango to let Skizz grief their Server? Don’t be that guy.
Truth be told, he wasn’t keeping an eye on Skizz to babysit and clean up after him or to help him through the stress of a new Server. He was being a bit selfish, watching Skizz for his own peace of mind.
Skizz was… special.
. . .
Impulse and Skizz met Tango when they were rather young.
Impulse and Skizz grew up together in the Overworld. They both lived in the slums of their kingdom, right on the edge, neighbours. Now, don’t go being impressed by said ‘kingdom.’ It was hardly that. A rundown castle that accepted nearly anyone so long as they had at least two working hands - sometimes even that was overlooked. A misfit royal that tried to get both angels and demons to live in harmony. Naturally, the castle’s surrounding village divided amongst themselves. The king died alone, with no wife or heirs, and sad, his passion project crumpled and failed.
Two good things, however, came from his rule: Skizz and Impulse’s friendship and the school’s yearly trip to the Nether.
See, the king had made only one change to the curriculum, which required that, once a year for only a day or two, every student and teacher would travel to the Nether to meet with a Clan of Nether-born and learn about their culture.
Impulse and Skizz had gone every year since they were eight and nine.
Needless to say, it was boring and bland and they werenotexcited. The only Nether-born Clan to ever agree to host a bunch of Overworld children was the Tek Clan. It was composed mostly of Blazeborne and Piglin. You wereluckyto see a ghast hybrid or a strider hybrid or any kind of skeleton hybrid. And there were no kids except for the visiting students. Piglins kept their young close until they were strong enough to wield a crossbow. Blaze nests only had one egg every few hundred years, so seeing one ofthosewould be a miracle-
“Dude!” Skizz elbowed Impulse’s side. “Look! Is that-?”
Impulse followed Skizz’s finger. How Skizz managed to be impressed every year was lost on him. “Oh, my gosh, it is!”
Standing at the head of the crowd, beside the King and Queen of the Tek Clan, was a… boy. And he was veryclearlya Blazeborne. He had a shock of flaming hair, pointed ears, black eyes, and a slightly yellow tinge to his skin. On his head was a thorny obsidian crown. He wore fancy clothes embroidered with golden thread - a plain, cream-coloured tunic and dark pants underneath an intricately woven, orange and grey surcoat - and charcoal coloured combat boots.
The Queen began talking. “Welcome Overworldlings!”
Even after five years of coming to the nether, Skizz and Impulse never managed to remember the Queen and Kings names. Lucky for them, however, they reintroduced themselves every year.
“I am Queen Alephira. You may address me as such. This is my husband-” she gestured to the man to her left “- King Albajazz.” She didn’t mention the boy.
The King stepped forward. “You may call me King Jazz, if you’d prefer.” He ignored the Queen’s pointed glare. He looked at the boy, offering a hand.
The boy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
The king huffed anxiously. “Uhmm, right! You’ll be separated into groups and given guides. Please listen to your Overworld teachers for your names and assigned letters.”
Impulse and Skizz, as always, were put into the same group. They were lucky their teacher liked them. The teacher sent them towards a nether brick wall to wait for the rest of their group.
The piglin guide waiting there watched them approach with an unnerving stare.
Skizz was the first to break the silence by clearing his throat. “Hello. My name is Skizzleman. This is group ‘T,’ right?”
The guide gave a reluctant nod. “You will call me Corek.”
A few more kids started to wander over.
Impulse noticed that they all seemed to be older students, the more experienced, well-behaved ones. He eyed Corek. “How old are you?”
“I don’t see how that is your business.”
“Are you, like, a new trainee?”
“Again, I don’t see how that is your business.”
Impulse frowned. “It’s just that… I can’t help but notice that our group is the smallest by a long shot. And everyone here has already been on the Nether trip before.”
Corek sighed. “If you must know, we will be having an important guest tagging along. Your professors were told to assign their most well-behaved, model students to this group.” His eyes flicked between Impulse, Skizz, and the other uninterested students. “I am starting to doubt the Overworld’s definition of ‘model students.’”
“Well, Corey,” Skizz slung an arm over Impulse’s shoulders, “can I call you Corey?” He didn’t give the piglin time to answer. “I think that my good buddy and I can change your mind.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“Captain Corek,” a scratchy voice from behind made Skizz jump, leaning further onto Impulse.
Their whole group turned. It was the boy.
Corek offered a small bow. “Your Highness.”
‘Your Highness’? But that title was reserved for royals. Then that meant-
“What are you all gawking at?” The boy growled.
Skizz - of course it was Skizz - was the first to regain himself. He outstretched his hand, a bright smile over his features. “I’m Skizzleman! What’s your name?”
The boy stared at the open hand and pulled an almost disgusted face. “I am Prince Tango. You may address my that name or by ‘Your Highness.’”
Skizz hummed. “Not one for handshakes? Whatever. This is Impulse.” He pulled a very surprised Impulse to stand beside him.
“Uhm, hello, Your Highness,” Impulse managed. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Corek pushed between the friends. “Enough of this. Let’s be on our way.”
Impulse and Skizz fell to the back of the group as they started out.
They were the last group to begin their tour.
“Hey, so, Mr Corek?” One of the girls - a villager - asked, “Why’s the Prince coming with us?”
Corek took a moment to respond. “His Highness has begun lessons about the Overworld. His professor believes this will help him to better understand the culture.” The smirk was evident in his voice when he added, “King Jazz hopes he can make a friend or two today.”
Skizz leaned towards Impulse’s ear. “Poor guy doesn’t have friends?”
Impulse shrugged. “Maybe he doesn't want any.”
“You said the same thing,” Skizz scoffed. “And then you met me.”
Corek stopped the group at the edge of a Warped Forest. “Can anyone tell me what kind of plant this is?”
A few students raised their hands. “It’s a warped tree.”
Corek hummed.
Skizz could feel the disappointed energy radiating around him.
Both Impulse and the Prince muttered, “It’s not a tree.”
“Your Highness,” Corek said, “would you like to answer?”
“Not particularly.”
Corek’s fingers fiddled with a crossbow attached to his hip.
After a few long seconds, Prince Tango gave in. “It’s a giant mushroom. It’s called a warped fungus.”
“Right,” Corek agreed. “What are they used for?”
“The giant mushrooms aren’t useful for much other than building. The soil is only good for growing the mushrooms. The small ones can be used in most Nether remedies and balms. They’re also good for stews depending on the hybrid it’s made for.Weuse them most commonly to herd Zoglin and keep the wild ones away from the village. They release a pungent odour toxic to Zoglin young, so they tend to avoid it.”
“Wonderful,” Corek said.
“And-” the Prince seemed to like this topic.
It occurred to Impulse that maybe Corek had brought them here intentionally, to help the Prince out of his shell.
The Prince yanked a mushroom from the soil. “We also use them in makeup.” He rubbed a finger over the cap. “The mushrooms are covered in a light powder.” He wiped his finger across his cheek. A greenish-blue residue was left behind. He added a matching stripe to the other cheek. “Crimson mushrooms have the same effect.”
A villager student reached out her hand. “Can I… try it?”
Prince Tango frowned, a confused expression crossing his face before he passed over the mushroom.
The villager smiled. She spread the colour over her face and passed the mushroom between her friends.
Corek’s voice rose above their chatter. “Let’s take a break here. We’ve got a long walk to the next place.”
The villager students were quick to wander away and sit in a circle.
Impulse and Skizz, the only hybrids in their group, stayed where they were with Corek and the Prince.
“Man,” Skizz stretched his arms above his head. “Again?”
Impulse groaned. “You can go, too, Skizz, if you want.”
Skizz scoffed, an offended hand splaying over his heart. “Impulse! I can’t believe you would assume me to be such a terrible friend!”
“Skizz-”
“If they can’t learn to look past the demon part of you, then they don’t deserve you. And me, by association. So I think I’m good right here with my best buddy.” Skizz smirked, then added, “Besides, they’re huge assholes anyway.”
“Dude,” Impulse sighed, “for an angel, you swear too much.”
“And you don’t swear enough.”
They stared at each other, fake glares in their eyes, and simultaneously burst into laughter.
As they caught their breath, Skizz turned back to Corek and Prince Tango. “Hey, Hotshot, if you’re looking to make friends, I don’t recommend those guys.” He jutted a thumb over his shoulder.
Corek crossed his arms, suddenly reverting back to the standoffish way he’d been before their touring began. “Your teachers would not offer rude children as friends to His Highness, surely. Seems you two are the sh*t-talkers here.”
“Sorry,” Impulse apologised, “it’s just that we’ve known them for years and-”
“They’ve bullied Impulse from the moment we started at a public school,” Skizz cut in. “I think they can handle a bit of what they’re dishing out.”
Corek huffed. “So far, they haven’t demonstrated any disagreeable qualities.”
The Prince crossed his arms. His furry tail swished behind him. “It doesn’t matter. Just drop it, Corek. I don’t need any friends.”
“Your father disagrees.” Corek swept a hand towards the villagers. “The least you could do istry, Your Highness.”
Prince Tango sighed angrily. “Yeah, whatever.” He stomped over to the group.
Impulse, Skizz, and Corek watched in uncomfortable, nervous silence.
It was unsettling, the way every villager turned to the Prince at once.
“Uhh, can I… sit here?” The Prince started awkwardly.
One of the villagers - Skizz and Impulse knew her to be their ‘leader’ - looked him up and down. She smiled. “You’reactuallytrying to make friends? What, because yourdaddytold you to? Ha! Sad that you need pity from Overworldlings to make friends.”
“Yeah, I mean,” another girl joined in, “look at you. What about you says that you would fit in with us? Is the Nether set back in fashion, like three-hundred years? And what is that colour?Blegh.It totally mashes with your skin tone and throws off the whole vibe.”
“What’s with the ears, dude?” A boy mocked.
Prince Tango stiffened. His ears drooped and pointed towards the floor. Impulse couldn’t see his face, but he could imagine the embarrassment and hurt plastered there. The Prince took an unsteady step backwards. His tail dragged limply over the netherrack.
One of the villagers gasped, an evil grin spreading over her face. “Oh, my gosh, look! He’s got awittletail! I thought you were supposed to be a Blazeborne. Blaze’s don’t have tails, freak!”
“Fraud!” A guy chirped.
“Fake!” Said another.
Now, usually, Impulse could ignore most things these jerks said, but the tail thing got him every time. He surged forward, Skizz hot on his heels.
“Hey!” His own tail whipped behind him. “What’s wrong with having a tail?”
The leader stood up to face the incoming demon. “It’s not natural. You’re not an animal, are you? I mean, if that’s the case, you should be caged and thrown in a zoo.”
“Plenty of things have tails that aren’t animals.”
“Right, like what?”
“Hybrids-”
“AnimalHybrids?”
“Hybrids, Stars, Clothes-”
Skizz laid a gentle hand on Prince Tango’s elbow. “C’mon,” he murmured, “let’s get out of here.”
The Prince let himself be pulled.
Skizz summoned his wings and used one to shield Tango from mocking eyes. He made sure to flip off anyone watching.
“Hey,” Skizz leaned in front of the Prince’s face. “You’re the top G here. Don’t let a bunch of idiots get to you.”
Prince Tango squinted, trying to will away unwelcomed tears.
“Can I hug you, buddy?”
Prince Tango’s only response was a small lean towards Skizz’ open arms.
Skizz held Tango in a tight, comforting hug. Tango didn’t hug back, but he seemed content to stay in Skizz’ hold.
Skizz’ feathered wings wrapped around the pair.
Skizz hummed. “They’re jerks. I know. That was uncalled for.”
Tango said nothing.
“For the record, I don’t think you’re a freak. Or a fraud. Or a fake. Neither does Impulse. I actually really like your ears. Impulse’s have got point to ‘em, butmanyours are so cool! Like, do you have to sharpen them, or is it natural?”
Tango huffed what might have been a laugh. “They’re all natural,” he murmured into the skin of Skizz’ neck.
“I wish I had something cool. All I got are these useless wings.”
“Can’t you fly?”
Skizz’ hands fell looser around Tango’s waist. “Nope. Angels can’t typically fly until they’re adults. Even then, most have to attend a special school. We’re just like everyone else.”
Tango frowned. He pulled back enough to look into Skizz’ eyes. “I always thought it would be so cool to fly around and feel the wind in my hair. We don’t really get wind down here.”
“I don’t imagine you get too many light breeze’s down here.”
Tango laughed softly. “What’s the sun like?”
“Bright, hot, orange. Kinda like you.”
Tango’s yellow skin grew warmer under Skizz’ fingertips. “You think I’m hot?”
Skizz blushed, too. “And bright. And orange.” He evaded the question.
“Not too bad yourself, Overworldling.”
Skizz averted his eyes. “I’ll take you to see it, if you want.”
“What?”
“The sun.”
Tango stepped back a bit, pulling out of Skizz’ hold, but not his wings. “I can’t. Royalty isn’t permitted to the Overworld until adulthood.”
“Really? How old are you?”
“In Blaze years, thirteen.”
“Uhhhh, right. And… what’s that in human years?”
Tango smiled briefly, a hand moving to cover his mouth. “Thirteen.”
“Oh-” Skizz frowned. “Hey-!”
“Knock, knock,” Impulse’s voice came from outside Skizz’ feathers.
Skizz lowered his wings enough for Impulse to see over them. “Welcome back, buddy.”
Impulse stretched his arms above his head. “How’s His Highness feeling?”
Tango stiffened; Skizz could feel his walls building back up. “I’m fine. Thank you, both of you.” Skizz noticed how he didn’t pull out of Skizz’ winged embrace.
“Right,” Impulse eyed Skizz. “Well, I’m Impulse.”
“Yes, I remember.”
Impulse offered a toothy smile. “Skizz still seems to have trouble with that.”
Skizz rolled his eyes. “Alright, Dippledop. Enough Skizz slander.”
Tango’s eyes relaxed just slightly. “Your name is… Skizz?”
“Skizzleman. It’s, like, French, or something. My parents named me after somesuperdistant grandfather.”
Tango made a face. “Skizzleman?”
Skizz stuck out his tongue. “Skizz is good, though. Really the only people that call me Skizzleman are my parents. I mean, I guess if you wanted to. However, I’ll have to refer to you as ‘Top G’ for the rest of ever.”
Tango bit back a smile. “Hmm, well, Skizzleman. I’ll have to disagree.”
Skizz smiled wide. “Top G, how could you? What kind of friend would dare use my entire legal name?”
“This one would. Uh- we’re friends, now?”
“Unfortunately for you, yes.”
“Why would that be-”
“It’s his fault.” Skizz pointed to Impulse.
Impulse gave a ‘what the heck?’ kind of look.
Skizz ignored him, even going as far as to cover him with a wing. “You wouldn’t be stuck with us for the rest of eternity if Dippledop hadn’t been so offended by the villagers.”
“Tragic,” Tango agreed. “I guess I’ll just have to live with this punishment for the rest of ever.”
Impulse pushed Skizz’ wing away. “Skizz can be quite the chore, Your Highness. Are you prepared to take on this role?”
Tango sucked in a breath and puffed up his cheeks. “I better be. I mean, what else could my professor have been preparing me for if not this moment right here? Certainly not running a kingdom.”
Impulse laughed. “Y’know, you’re pretty funny, Your Highness.”
“Tango. My name is Tango.”
. . .
Skizz and Impulse spent alotof time in the Nether after that. Every day after school, they did their homework alongside Tango and offered what help they could with his Overworld Studies.
Most of their weekends were spent touring the castle and nearby villages.
Then, Impulse got an internship at a high end Redstone place and his visits became less, but never stopped.
Skizz hadn’t really found his passion, yet. Without Impulse constantly by his side, his visits to the Nether doubled. By the time he was seventeen, he lived fifty-fifty in the Nether and in the Overworld.
Tango’s princely duties neither waxed nor waned. They wouldn’t until he turned eighteen - he still had two years until then.
“Hey,” Tango whispered loudly as he shook Skizz awake. “Skizz! Wake up!”
Skizz groaned and rolled away.
“Skiiiiiiiizz,” Tango whined, shaking more aggressively.
This time, Skizz peeked open one eye. “What time is it?”
“One.”
“In the morning?”
“Yes! But I have something super important to show you. Please get up.”
Skizz sighed. “Really? Right now?”
Tango huffed. He crossed his arms over his chest. “We get to sneak out of the castle.”
“Really?” Skizz sat up quickly.
“What is your obsession with sneakificating out of the castle?”
“It’s thrilling! What if we get caught? Will your parents throw us in prison for life? This is so exciting!”
Tango only rolled his eyes.
Tango led Skizz through the floating land masses of Netherrack.
The only indication of passing time in the Nether was the lava. During what the Overworld called ‘night,’ the Nether’s lava fell slower and turned a dark shade of orange. During the day, it was bright and bubbly and flowed just as fast as water.
After what felt like several lifetimes to both teenagers, Tango announced their arrival.
“Okay, Skizz, I’ve never shown this to anyone before.”
“No offence, Top, but you don’t have anyone else to show things to.”
“Fair.”
Tango pulled Skizz around a wall of netherrack while he talked. “This tree is a willow fungus. They’re incredibly rare. They only happen when a warped mushroom and a crimson mushroom grow on the same block.”
The tree was huge. It stood at least twenty blocks above their heads. It was the most beautiful shade of purple with tall, full branches of tear-shaped, lavender leaves. Shroomlights hung from purple vines hanging between the branches and leaves and sprouting up from the roots.
Skizz gasped. “Holy- wow!”
Tango gave him time to take it all in. “We keep these trees hidden from the Overworld and do everything we can to protect them.”
“If they’re so important, why are you showing me? You know I’ve got a big mouth,” Skizz joked.
Tango blushed. “I just wanted to show something that I love to someone that I love.”
Skizz squeaked indignantly. “W-what?”
“Skizz,” Tango turned, taking both Skizz’ hands in his.
Skizz’ eyes were wide and nervous. “Tango?” He returned the blaze’s gaze.
“I am so in love with you, it’s crazy.”
“You are?”
“Infatuated.”
“Infatuated,” Skizz repeated breathlessly.
Tango nodded. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way. Heck, I don’t expect you to even go on a date with me, but I thought you should know, ya’know?”
Skizz’ jaw opened and closed a few times. He licked his lips and swallowed. “Uhmm, hello? Am I bad at flirting? I thought I was pretty obvious-”
“You are!” Tango giggled. “You are so obvious, dude!” He squeezed Skizz’ shoulders as they laughed together.
Skizz pretended to be offended. He wrapped his arms around Tango’s abdomen, pinning his arms to his side, and lifted him off the ground. “Are you laughin’ at me?”
Tango only laughed harder.
Skizz stepped back, a bit unbalanced with the added weight. His shoe caught a rock and the couple tumbled to the netherrack floor.
Skizz’ arms came up to Tango’s shoulders and they held each other, laughing and basking in each other’s warmth.
After a time neither cared to keep track of, Tango offered some pork he’d borrowed from the kitchen.
“What does this make us, then?” Skizz pondered.
Tango shrugged. “I thought, maybe, you’d like to boyfriendificate me?”
Skizz gave a sideways grin. “Well, if you insist. Anything for His Highness, the Top G.”
Tango shook his head fondly. “The lava’s getting brighter. The Castle will be awake soon.”
“Do we have to go back?”
“Ever?”
Skizz just met his eyes.
“I wish-”
A loud, angry snort brought them both to their feet.
An unfamiliar Piglin patrol had their crossbows aimed.
The one in front squinted his eyes and snorted again.
The boyfriends shared an uneasy glance.
“I don’t speak Piglish,” Tango whispered.
“Okay,” Skizz stepped slowly away. “That’s fine. We’ll just leave.”
“They might not let us. I don’t know what Clan they-”
The leader let loose an arrow.
Tango brought his arms up to protect himself, but Skizz’ instincts were quicker; His wings shot out to block Tango from the oncoming threat.
“Run!” Skizz hissed through the pain. He nudged Tango until he got the hint.
Tango turned tail and began to run.
And he thought Skizz was behind him, running for his life, too, but Skizz’s body flung past him and slammed into a Netherrack wall.
He fell with a sickening thud, his wings dripping golden blood from between their feathers.
“Skizz!” Tango shrieked. He landed hard on his knees beside his best friend and lover.
The Piglin patrol was advancing quickly. They were made up of several swordsmen and archers and - oh, Void - two brutes. One stood ahead of the rest, his dark clothes making him stand out. He snorted, preparing to charge.
“sh*t!” Tango swore. He leaned over Skizz and shook him. “Skizz, c’mon! Please wake up! We have to get out of here!”
The Piglins grew steadily closer.
What was he supposed to do? He was only one person. If it were just him, he’d be fine to let himself die over a silly mistake; but Skizz had so much to live for. Skizz couldn't just die here. Skizz had to be there to cheer at Impulse’s graduation and give his cat her medicine. Skizz still had to find out just who he was meant to be.
How was Tango supposed to save him? Blazeborne aren’t particularly strong hybrids. Tango could barely make a fireball, let alone take out a Piglin patrol.
And-
“sh*t!” Tango swore again.
The brute, now wielding a sharpened golden sword, began to charge.
Tango’s instincts reacted in full force, covering himself in a layer of fire and shooting out in a blast in all directions.
A Blazeborne’s fire, without proper training, was incredibly deadly. Tango’s training was next to none. There was no doubt that all the Piglin were either dead or on their way.
The fire faded quickly from Tango’s eyes along with his energy.
“Skizz!” He cried out.
Skizz’ wings were burning away faster than anything Tango had ever seen. His clothes had caught fire and his hair was singed away. He likely wouldn’t escape this alive and, if he did, he’d be severely burned.
Tango let out a single choked sob and forced himself to his feet. He didn’t spare the patrol a single glance as he dragged Skizz towards home.
Tango didn’t stop pulling and yanking. He didn’t stop to check Skizz’ breathing or his bleeding. There was nothing he could do without the help of a proper doctor.
Tears poured down his face, burning tracks into his skin.
“Help!” He warbled weakly when the village gates came into view. “Please!”
He couldn’t keep consciousness long enough to find out if it came.
They say, in a dire moment, there’s nothing stronger than a mother’s adrenaline, but who could fight young love and the regret that so often comes with it?
. . .
Tango wasn’t sure how long it was when he came to. He was in his room, he knew. He had a sticky balm over his cheeks. His hands were wrapped in bandages.
It seemed his body picked the right time to wake up.
A nurse was just entering his room. Her eyes alighted on his, now open, and she took in a startled breath.
She bit her lip and backed away.
Tango frowned. He didn’t sit up.
Moments later, his bedroom door slammed into the wall. His mother came barreling through the door.
“Tango Tek!” She bellowed.
It hurt to flinch.
“You idiot! I can’t believe you would sneak out of the castle unsupervised!”
“Mother-” he croaked, “I-”
“You put someone else’s life on the line to do Void knows what! You’re lucky you made it back here alive.”
“Alephira, my love,” King Jazz hurried into the room. He wore pyjamas and must have just woken up. “Calm down! Our son just woke up-”
“He is not my son!”
Tango’s ears fell. He’d heard it before. He knew. But it still hurt.
Jazz held her arm gently. “Alephira, please. Adrenaline is running really high right now. Let’s-”
“No!” Alephira tore herself away from her husband. “I want him out!” She towered over Tango’s bed. “I told you you hadonelast chance. If you pissed me off, you’re out. You’re a horrible example of royalty and the worst mistake a mother could make. Pack your sh*t and leave! Ugh, no. This is mine.” She yanked at the curtains over Tango’s bed. “This whole castle and everything in it belongs to me! Take yourself and the clothes on your back and get the f*ck out!”
Jazz whimpered. “No, you can’t! He’s our son, Alephira!”
“He isyourson,” she whirled to face the King. “I took him in whenyoufound his egg. We don’t even know what he’s made of. I can make another heir. Any man here would bear me a child for a few extra coins. I will replace him just like that.” She snapped her fingers in Jazz’ face for emphasis. “Don’t make me get a new husband, too.”
She turned back to Tango, who’d been frozen. He’d never seen her this angry before. He wasn’t even sure if ‘angry’ could cover quite how heated she was.
“Why are you still here?” She screeched. Her clawed hand shot out quickly and held tight to Tango’s hair. She dragged him from the bed and didn’t wait for him to catch his footing.
Tango was crying again. His hands pulled desperately at the hand wound in his hair.
The Queen threw him down the hall. “Go!” She pointed in the direction she’d thrown him. “You know the way out. You have ten minutes until you’re considered an enemy of the crown. If you are ever seen here again, we will hunt you down and have your ugly head hung above the mantle.”
Tango stumbled to his feet. He pushed himself off the wall and took off as fast as his exhausted feet could carry him.
Tango ran until the nether portal in the centre of the village came into view and only stopped long enough to warp through. He was too afraid to look back at what might have been chasing him away from his home.
. . .
Tango was drained. He had on only his thin silk pyjamas. He wore no shoes.
It was raining, he thought. He’d never experienced water before, but something grey dripped from the dark roof above him and burned his skin everywhere it touched. And he was crying.
He couldn’t take in his surroundings. He didn’t understand anything around him, but he kept walking. He had to get away. He paid no mind to the villagers he bumped into or the confused glares he got.
His mind was foggy and sad.
Someone bumped him. He managed to whisper an apology this time.
Someone held his arm, stopping him where he stood.
“Sorry,” he whispered again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”
“Tango!” A familiar voice cut through his head. “What are you doing here, man? You’re a mess.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“No. Tango! What is happening? First Skizz, now you?”
Tango sucked in a shaky gasp. “Skizz. I have to… to…” His eyes rolled back in his head.
Impulse was quick to scoop him into his arms. He dashed, for the second time in the past day, towards the nearest doctor with an unconscious friend in his arms.
. . .
Tango had woken in a bed in an unfamiliar home. Impulse was by his side.
He’d been given time to collect himself before he forced himself to explain what he remembered.
Skizz was there, too, in his own bed, wrapped in bandages and smothered in burn salve.
Skizz would be okay. He’d only lost everything but his life. His wings were bare stubs and would never grow back. His hair was gone and, though it would grow back, it would take years to cover the patched of mushy, burnt scalp.
Then, Skizz was awake!
And Skizz… well, he had no idea who Tango was. His last memory was from years prior.
Tango and Impulse decided it’d be better to keep the trauma from Skizz’ young brain. They only told him there’d been an accident.
The doctors didn’t know if Skizz would ever regain those memories.
Skizz, incredible Skizz, wasn’t bothered at all. His eleven-year-old brain decided that the adults knew what was best and trusted that he could just go around with half his memories missing.
It took years before the trio felt normal again. Even then, Tango always felt a little farther than he had beforethe accident.
. . .
Skizz was being Skizz again. He and Gem were working together to chop trees for Skizz’ shop.
Tango watched from his place hidden by Skizz’ pyramid.
Skizz said something stupid. Gem threw her head back.
Tango could just hear their laughter across the river.
Impulse was joining, now, too. His elytra brought him safely to the ground beside the duo.
Tango didn’t miss the way he glanced towards his hiding spot.
He stole himself up and decided to add himself to their group.
“Howdy everybody!” He called as he sauntered over the shoddy cobblestone bridge. “Chopificating trees, are we?”
Skizz laughed. “Come to help, Top? Dipple Dop just got here, too.”
Impulse waved. “I thought I’d pitch in some durability on my axe. These trees are the absoluteworstto chop.”
And that was the end of the conversation. The four of them got to work on the trees.
They took a break when Skizz planted a new round of saplings.
Skizz pulled off his torn suit coat and tossed it carelessly over a chest. “Man, working hard or hardly working, am I right?”
“Hey, Skizz,” Gem ignored his awful joke, “you have holes in your shirt.”
Skizz twisted uncomfortably over his shoulder. “I do? Where?”
“Here,” Gem reached out. “It almost looks… are they meant to be there?” She pulled his shirt to the side.
“Oh! Yeah, I usually take off my jacket to air out my wings,” Skizz explained. “Less tight that way.”
“You have wings?”
“Well, I am an Angel hybrid.”
“You’re an Angel?” Gem bounced on her toes. “That’s so cool! I wanna see! Can I? Can I?”
Tango laughed nervously. “I don’t think-”
Skizz flapped his hand in front of Tango’s face. “It’s fine, Tango. We’re friends.”
Tango frowned, but didn’t argue.
Skizz summoned what was left of his wings.
Gem’s excited face drooped immediately. “Oh,” she murmured softly. “What happened?”
Skizz shrugged. “Had an accident, I guess.” He turned to face her and, consequently, put his back to Tango.
The sight of what he’d done to Skizz’ beautiful wings had bile rising quickly in his throat. A hand shot up to cover his mouth.
Skizz’ stubs wiggled helplessly and featherlessly as he talked to Gem.
Impulse was quick to step between Tango and the pair. “It’s not your fault.”
Tango shook his head.
And, of course, as luck would have it, a chat message popped up on their comms.
ZombieCleo was slain by Piglin Brute
Tango choked on his spit. His worst memories came rushing back to the front of his mind. He tried his best to blink away tears.
ZombieCleo tried to swim in lava
Then his airways were closing. He couldn’t breathe.
Impulse pushed a hand in the centre of Tango’s chest. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “She’s okay.” He pushed a bit harder.
Tango screwed his eyes shut.
The comms buzzed again.
He couldn’t see the message this time, thankfully. Cleo would be okay.
“Geez, Cleo,” Gem murmured.
Skizz scoffed playfully. “‘Burnt to a crisp fighting piglin?’ Is she taking on a bastion?”
Tango couldn’t help the way he tensed before he took off. He spammed his rockets as quickly as he could, aiming for Cleo’s village.
He knew Cleo was alright. He knew they were fine.
But he had to be sure.
He crashed through her nether portal, barely avoiding a Respawn himself.
Cleo jumped, squealing. “Oh, hell! Tango! What are you doing?”
Tango wiped at his eyes. “I came to help. I just- uhm… please let me help get your things back.”
Cleo’s brows knitted together. She scanned him quickly. “Alright. I was just looking through a chest at a bastion I raided a while ago. Apparently I didn’t get far enough away. Come on, this way.”
Tango followed them with his head down.
Cleo sighed. “I thought that if I could get my sword… but the Brute’s are just too strong without armour. I don’t see how anyone could survive them.”
Tango had to agree; They had been lucky.
Tango pulled out his sword, hands shaking, and slid down the netherrack.
Cleo had managed to do a bit of damage before she’d died, so the Brute and his piglin pals went down in just a few swings. Cleo came quickly to collect their things.
“I can take stuff. I’ve got a free Inventory.”
“We better,” Cleo agreed. She broke the chest and scooped up what she could carry. “You’re a real hero, Tango.”
Gem, Impulse, and Skizz were waiting in Cleo’s blue copper base.
Gem and Skizz smiled. Impulse offered a sympathetic look.
“Wow, Tango, rushing off to save Cleo,” Gem joked. “Real princely.”
Tango flinched hard. Impulse’s fists clenched at his side.
“Uhm, y’know what? Why don’t the three of you wait outside?” Cleo suggested.
“Why?”
“Well, Tango’s got some of my things. He’ll be with you in a moment.”
As soon as they’d disappeared, Cleo took Tango’s hands.
Tango stared down at where they met.
“Right, then,” Cleo hummed. “Your mind,” she brought their joined hands as high as she could reach, “is way up here. Up here is what I call ‘Worry World.’”
Tango took note of how his lungs expanded with his arms held above his head.
“Can I get you back down here?” She levelled their hands between them. “Can I have you back at HermitCraft?”
Tango huffed.
Cleo pulled their hands down a bit more. “Close, this is actually called ‘The Field of Fretters.’ HermitCraft is just a bit to the South of that.”
Tango frowned. Cleo was funny. He smiled. “I-”
“Once upon a time,” Cleo started, “there was a pony who liked to do redstone. This pony wasn’t like the other ponies. He had bright orange hair and a yellow coat and pretty red eyes. And he was super smart and kind. And sometimes, he worried a bit. Right now, the pony doesn’t need to worry.” Cleo dragged her nails over Tango’s knuckles. “The pony helped his friend and they are both okay. The pony doesn’t need to worry about Cleo anymore because she’s right in front of him. And she’s safe. And so is the pony.”
Tango swallowed thickly. “Thanks, Cleo.”
Cleo patted Tango’s cheek. “It’s alright. We all have our moments. Even ponies.”
Tango laughed softly. “Even ponies.”
“Right. I can tell that something is on your mind.”
Tango pulled back. “I don’t-”
“I’m not going to make you talk about it. I just think that maybe we take a break from adulting and heroics until we have less things on our mind.”
Tango nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologise for, darling. Let’s put some things in chests and find our friends.”
Tango nodded again, lifting his head up to meet their eyes.
Cleo smiled softly. “Well, there he is. Do you want to hold my hand?”
Hand-in-hand, they threw all Cleo’s items in a chest and, by the time they were finished, Tango was feeling much better.
“Whatever it is,” Cleo squeezed his hand before they left her base, “it’s not your fault. I can tell that you think it is. And I can tell that Impulse knows what’s going on in your head. I know that you think it’s your fault, but it’s not.”
Tango shrugged. “I’m the only one that was there. Believe me, I know it’s on me.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Impulse, Skizz, and Gem were chatting together outside Cleo’s house as they approached.
Skizz raised his brows mockingly. “D’ya get lost on your way back?”
“Jealous?” Cleo bit back. “You can hold my hand, too, Skizz. Just ask.”
Skizz laughed. Impulse and Gem both shook their heads, small smiles on their faces. Tango squeezed Cleo’s hand as he giggled along.
Tango was a pony. He’s a little different, sure, but he is smart and kind and helpful. Sometimes he worried maybe a little too much. And that’s okay. And Tango is okay. And Cleo. And Gem. And Impulse. And, most importantly, Skizz is okay. And Skizz is safe.
Skizz might not know what happened to him; Skizz mightneverknow what happened to him.
Even after years of offering to tell the story, Skizz declined. He always said, “You guys are my homie buddies. I trust you. Maybe one day I’ll want to know, but, right now, I’m not missing anything. Y’know, ‘cause I got you two. And you two got me.”
Tango was inclined to agree.
