Tommy was, well... conflicted to say the least. He didn't know if he should let himself fall for what was a very obvious disguise or run the hell away before he was found by someone else. He was pretty sure that the woman was not on the server before and that led him to the conclusion that Dream had invited her at some point during his stay in exile. And if that were to be true, then Tommy had to get out of the house as fast as possible while he still had the chance -no matter how much he wanted to stay in the cocoon of blankets. Dream had made it a habit to visit the new players he would invite on his SMP -pretty frequently- to check out the potential of each new puppet.

"You don't need to lie", the woman had told him, referring to how he had tried to hide his hunger as she exited through a trapdoor in an empty corner of the room.

She had been gone for at least five minutes, probably to make him that poisoned food. Tommy had been left alone in the room and he had planned to make the most out of her absence. He realized then that he had not been given her name but that was okay -he would not stay there long enough to need it anyway.

Blue eyes examined the room. There was the closet that he had yet to see the inside of, that armorstand, a clock with beautifully curled numbers, a few hanging pots of flowers to suit the room theme and a comfy-looking bed on a somewhat-raised stage. He would steal that armor set later. The primary color scheme was pink and white, though there were a few reds and browns mixed in either through the flowers or little details like the ribbon tying the ends of the curtains. That was when he realized that he had been resting on a sofa rather than floating mid-air. That made much more sense actually.

The atmosphere was clear and homey, exquisitely mild and pure; it felt lived in. The aroma of the flowers was soft, barely noticeable but there nonetheless. Was that lavender?

His shoulders slumped at the thought of having to leave such a wonderful home -or base- but it had to be done. Then he recalled the bruises on his side and the cut on his cheek. He had to look for his backpack to get his hands on the potion to take care of them. Tentatively, he tugged the wool blankets loose and let them crumple and pile on his lap, ignoring how that same small voice in the back of his head urged him to stay in the cocoon.

Find weapons, retrieve backpack, treat injuries, steal food, potions and armor and run for the hills, he repeated the new to-do list to himself. He had to get out of there and his first destination would be the mysterious, brown closet to search for a sword. Surely, the woman would have netherite tools and weapons if she had a full armor set made out of the reddish-gray material.

He spotted a vial with a familiar pink liquid sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. It was a potion of healing and he would have rushed to it had he not suspected it to have been spiked with some drug. He moved his legs and immediately regretted it. The groans and moans of his bones were protesting against any movement and his muscles felt like they were being ripped. Like they were threads being snipped with razor sharp scissors.

Tommy was determined to complete his to-do list, however, and he was not going to let a little pain stop him. He ignored the flaring rushes going up his spine as he shifted on the sofa. It wasn't like he had not gotten used to it after all the wars that broke out; his body would always feel sluggish and exhausted after the relentless brawls in the SMP. He was a big man, he could handle a little pain.

He found his tattered clothes wet, stacked in a pile on the tile floor, forgotten. What had that woman told him again? I fell in a lake? Looking down at himself, he noted that he was not naked (thank Prime) and was instead in a green T-shirt and a long pair of jeans. That explained why he felt dry, he had begun to wonder about that. Wait... Did she?..

A dark blush overtook his grumpy expression and pale color of his cheeks up to the tips of his ears from embarrassment. His eyes blew wide, an ocean expanding on white foam as his  fingers awkwardly fumbled with the hem of the blankets. He had no time to ponder whether the woman had seen him naked or not, though, because the trapdoor opened. He had barely moved from his spot. Darn, he had wasted his chance at escaping because he was embarrassed!

The woman had returned, short brown curls bouncing as she climbed the ladder to the room with one hand, balancing a tray in the other. His stomach growled at the promise of food -Prime, he could feel himself salivating even though he knew he would not have any of whatever she had brought. It is probably poisoned, he told himself. If his eyes could have gotten any wider, they would have. Was that a sandwich? And was that liquid in the glass orange juice? When had been the last time he had had either of those? It felt like a while ago.

"Here you are!", the brunette beamed as she set the tray down by his feet on the sofa. After that, she retrieved the healing potion from the nightstand and set it next to the orange juice. "A potion of healing works best on a full stomach so try drinking it after you eat and you should be good to go in about an hour or two".

He barely registered her words at the sight of food. Hunger had clouded his sense of hearing. So that's what days of eating scraps and whatever else he could find could do to a man, huh? Perhaps the potion had not been tampered with and if he drank it last, any poison mixed in the food would be dealt with. He had enough experience to tell when a potion had been spiked due to the drug van -the starting point of the mess the SMP had fallen in.

Before he could grab the tray and set it on his lap, the woman's hand was pressed against his forehead. The touch hadn't changed since he had been asleep. He flinched backwards with an incredulous face (almost hitting the wall behind him), eyebrows raised high with an accompanying shiver working its way down his spine. It was a response he had developed to touch due to the wars; one that had been subdued in his half-asleep state.

The woman had a worried look on her face, one that compelled him to stay put as she reached out again; slower and with more care to his reaction.

"Sorry about that but your face is so red that I thought you had a fever", she apologized as she flipped her hand one last time. It was a familiar sort of warm, one that was inviting and in return gladly welcomed that time. She smiled at him. "You're all good, though".

Maybe -just maybe- the food hadn't been poisoned.

"I'm Stress by the way", she said as she retracted her hand and the blond reached for the tray and the plate of food on it -albeit with the smallest bit of hesitance. He nodded his acknowledgment.

"So, you're new?", he asked, his voice sounding as if he had downed a handful of gravel -and maybe he indeed had if he had been found fallen in a lake. He hated how weak and quiet the words had come out.

"New? What do you mean?", Stress asked.

"New to the SMP?", he responded with a quizzical face, taking a bite out of his sandwich, "When did Dream add you?"

And the confusion that befell the brunette's face caused the hands of dread to claw at his back and leave tingling paths behind. Either she was playing damn or she was feigning ignorance. Tommy could not decide which one it was... Don't those both mean the same thing, though? Oh well, you get the point!

"Who is Dream?"

He had to swallow the urge to facepalm at that.

"The admin of the server?"

Another confused look.

"No, our admin is XisumaVoid"

Tommy's expression matched Stress' in a heartbeat. Who in the hell was that XisumaVoid guy she spoke of? Maybe he had a concussion that neither of them had noticed. Maybe he had hit his head a bit harder than he thought he had and he was hearing things as a result but he had been hearing just fine a bit ago so that couldn't have had been it.

Unless... No, surely he was still on the Dream SMP and Stress was just messing with him! And as the woman connected the little clues together, her face morphed into surprise.

"You are in the Hermitcraft server. There is no one named 'Dream' here"

Φ

The next few minutes had been spent mostly in silence. Tommy was still sitting on the loveseat -half-wrapped in pink blankets- peacefully eating his breakfast with a disoriented gaze. He was aware of Stress moving about around him, watering the flowers in the room whilst humming a happy tune. He was constantly aware of her company and where she was located in the room thanks to the humming -it was calming as well.

He had heard of the Hermitcraft server before. Rumors said that it was a server filled with hearts full of gold, bright smiles, flowers and sunshine, anything bad expelled to the void of the End and the world turned with builders building and redstoners wiring mind-blowing machines. The administrator was a joy to be around, knowledgeable and polite.

Phil had always spoken high of the server as though it was the Aether. It was full of riches and clear of conflict; the perfect place for the avian's retirement plan -as Tommy had oh-so-politely pointed out when Phil had been talking about it.

However, gossip had revealed another side of the server. Something about a civil war caused by a new member about one and a half years ago. There had been no injured, no one had died like they would in the Dream SMP. In the end it had been revealed that everything had been caused by constant shenanigans and pranks. Phil had persisted that Hermitcraft was and always will be a peaceful server, no matter how much the gossip tried to thwart its reputation. Wilbur had once told him that drama attracts glances just like comedy -if not more.

As he gazed at Stress, who was just taking care of her plants, he chose to believe his late brother's words and value them a bit more.

Tommy felt his stomach do a flip as he realized had earned his trust in just under three hours of meeting her. He did not know if that was for good or bad; to trust a stranger so easily even though they could be hiding a dark past like Dream. Had he been put under a spell or something? Dream had this aura around him, though, that made one be wary of his presence, to scamper if he threw one mean look. Stress did not have that.

Deep inside he knew that -in fact- he had not been put under a spell -and he would not admit to that.

He had just emptied the glass of orange juice when he cleared his throat. Stress turned to him curiously, her humming halting for a second.

"My name is Tommy", he said, sounding more confident than before. He let out a mental cheer for himself. Stress smiled and walked over, reaching out a hand for him to shake. He reluctantly did so with a faint blush sitting on his cheeks -no it was not out of shyness!

"Nice to meet you, Tommy"

There was nothing wrong with giving his name to the woman. He was in a different server (how he had managed that, he still had no idea), far away from Dream and surely the green teletubby would not think to look in the peaceful servers. He considered Tommy too loud and too sociable for his own good, always ready to pick a fight like the rowdy teen he was. Perhaps he would look in places like Hypixel or the Hive, locations that have minigames of death and chaos, something more fitting. There was no way Stress could manipulate him with just his name -Dream had almost proven that to be possible. He told himself that he would not reveal anything more about his past, just for peace of mind. Being a little wary never hurt anyone.

"By the way, a very good friend of mine is coming over. His name is Iskall", Stress announced as she read text on a transparent screen hovering above her redstone bracelet. It had been a long time since Tommy had seen a communicator since Dream had banned them in his server along with the End dimension. "I think you'll like him"

Tommy nodded and drunk the potion of healing in a few thirsty gulps. He could already feel its effects work in his body, healing and sewing together destroyed tissue underneath the skin. It stung like a bitch but the result was worth the uncomfortableness. He just had to accept that he would feel like shit for another one or two hours and then he would be as good as new!

"Is he nearby?", Tommy asked. For once, he felt nervous about meeting someone new. Maybe it was because he was injured and in a very pink room... maybe.

"He should be arriving soon if he has his elytra on"

His what?!, Tommy wanted to scream but he bit his tongue to keep quiet. He had told himself that he would not reveal any personal stuff and that would be what he would do. It sounded like elytras were a common possession in the server by the way her voice stayed calm and unwavering as she spoke. So the End isn't banned here, the blond noted whilst he tried to pull his best poker face.

"He is the one who dealt with your clothes, by the way"

Oh- Oh, thank fuckin' Prime! He gave one of the most relieved exhales known to the universe and then his ears picked up on a few chuckles; the start of a genuine laugh.

"Wait, wait- you thought- was that why you were burning hot red earlier?"

Tommy did not hide his face in the blankets and pillows. He. Did. Not. No one took a picture so no one can prove it. He will deny it till the day he dies.

Φ

A few minutes passed and soon the firing of a firework sounded from outside. Stress did not miss the way Tommy visibly flinched at the sound and pulled the blankets closer to him. It reminded her of a child too reluctant of alerting its parents of a horrible nightmare and instead opting to bravely deal with it on its own. And she wondered why he had flinched and withdrawn himself into the pillows, wondered what had happened to cause such a reaction. There was a look of worry on her face, one that was quickly wiped away -no need to spook the blond more with matching faces. So she decided to ignore it in favor of announcing that Iskall had arrived.

Tommy exhaled shakily and he willed his fingers to let go of the wool clutched between them. His knuckles had gone white, he noticed, and then they slowly regained their color with a hint of irritated red. That firework had triggered a few flashbacks of Tubbo's execution. After the initial wheeze, he had expected to hear the high whispers of a confused audience, the crackle of colorful sparkles, the pained screams of his best friend on the podium. He had expected to smell the disgusting odor of burning flesh, of grainy gunpowder, to taste metal on his tongue.

There were no such sounds, though, nor were there the screams, the smell, the taste of blood in his mouth and the sandy powder between grinding teeth. Instead, there was only the opening and closing of the trap door as Stress left to greet her friend, the creaking of old hinges that needed to be tended to. The smell of hanging, blooming flowers the only smell present in the room. No burning fires, no screams, no pain. He was not in danger.

He let out a breath he did not know he had  been holding.

Shaking his head, he schooled his expression to be as neutral as possible, trying to erase his previous panic from existence. He was in a different server, one with the kindest people if the rumors were true -if Phil's opinion had been correct. Then again, there was that new member that he did not know what to think of -maybe the admin had banned him after that 'civil war' event. On top of it all, if Stress said that he would like that Iskall guy, he wanted to believe her. He wanted to hope, for one darn second, that the world would not crash down on him.

Not a minute later, the trap door opened noisily and Stress appeared, followed by a man with brown hair and a short, scruffy beard. The first thing he noticed about said man was the bionic eye he had installed on his face; the piece of technology weirdly reminded him of Sam with his redstone.

Tommy raised an eyebrow and went to stand up but the man stopped him with a hand and a gentle smile; one of those that were full of energy.

"You should save your energy till those bruises fade away", his tone had an edge of worry. His accent had a certain cadance to it that made it fun to listen to him talk. Tommy didn't miss how much each consonant was slightly stressed and the 'l's in his speech held a tad longer. "I'm Iskall", and with the same hand he had held up, he reached for a handshake.

"Tommy"

Tommy was as reluctant as he had been with Stress in shaking hands (though this time without blushing). He took note of the fingerless gloves made of felt covering Iskall's hands, the fabric had seen better days. Were those wood splinters? They also wore matching outfits, he noticed. Green T-shirts and blue jeans, only the man had a backpack on his shoulders. I need to find my backpack! Maybe they have it? They were the ones who found me in the lake, right?

They had to have found his backpack along with him! He remembered heaving it over his shoulder before heading through that portal-glitch thing. So he asked.

"Ah!", Iskall exclaimed, "Yes, I found a backpack on the shore when I landed but I'm afraid everything is soaked and beyond salvageable"

At that Tommy's face fell, lips dipping into a frown. There go all his food and supplies! Great, just great!

"The potion you had in there is in good condition though!", he added before bringing his backpack to the front and digging around until he revealed a familiar vial of pink liquid. He gave it to the blond and the boy brightened somewhat.

Stress watched with a calm smile as the two of them chatted. She was glad that they were getting along well.

"Are you feeling better now, Tommy?", she asked after a while and she received a curt nod after a few seconds of the boy testing out his previously-sore limbs. A look at his matted curls made the woman's lips turn into a light frown -it quickly turned back into a smile though. "Would you like to come outside with us? The weather is nice today, though it is bound to rain in the afternoon".

Tommy will never admit to how eagerly he nodded. Nope. Never.

.
.
.

Frankly, Tommy had no idea how he had ended up -how he had been convinced in the first place- in this situation. Really, he didn't! He remembered meeting Stress' dog, Dandelion, and playing fetch with her -love at first sight, truly- and then, all of a sudden, he had rolled up the legs of his jeans (yes, he had claimed the new clothes his already) to be dragged into the shallows of the lake.

Stress had him bend over to her height, hands in his hair and face to wash off all of the stubborn grime and grease that had stuck to him during his days in exile. He couldn't see Iskall but he knew he was keeping Dandelion company by the way she barked. That was where he found his voice again as he began to complain about the cold water and his shoes getting all gross and floaty from the water. That got a laugh out of the two and a comment about him "having some spunk". Damn right I do!, he thought but he prioritized complaining over voicing his thoughts.

And then, when Stress gave him the all-clear to go back to shore, a massive shadow passed over them. It was not one of the rain clouds looming over them in the distance, silently approaching. The shadow was humanoid with wings protruding from the sides, giving it the shape of a feathered cross.

Tommy was the first to look up, awaiting the sight of dark green robes and shining silver gleaming with sun. He had expected to see Phil flying above their heads, showing off his magnificent black wings and toss a feather with one of his characteristic grins. His heart ached for his father's reassuring presence like it had when he had left his embrace with Wilbur for the Dream SMP.

Then again, he was the only one who had gone through that portal. To think that Phil would be here in Hermitcraft... Stupid!

Instead, he caught the glimmer of enchanted netherite armor, the glare of the sun making him blink a couple of times. Wings flapped profusely as the person maneuvered through the jungle trees on the other side of the lake. Red, yellow and blue, feathers of similar color to that of the gorgeous red macaw. Tommy had only seen that parrot once before. He wondered who the avian was, especially since Phil had told him that they were rare and sporadic between servers.

That alone made avians a good or bad omen to suddenly appear out of nowhere.

"Oh, that's Grian", Iskall announced, having seen the fascination on the blond's face. "He's the avian of the server, pretty chill dude. He joined us about two years or so ago -newest member of our server!"

"Is he the one who started the civil war?", the words had left his mouth faster than he could think. His blue eyes widened as he saw the two adults stiffen. He had really fucked up with that question, hadn't he? Perhaps that information was to be kept secret so as not to ruin their good reputation.

He looked at Stress first with a distraught gaze, hoping, begging to holy fuckin' Prime, that he hadn't done wrong in putting his trust in the woman. He could feel the salt mixing in saliva at the back of his tongue, the prelude of tears and snot. He did not want to go through another betrayal even if Stress was a complete stranger.

Stress was quick to respond, calling Dandelion over with a gentle whistle, a happy tune to calm his panic.

"Well, he wasn't the only one to blame", she started with an awkward chuckle, "I sense some misconception here. We got a bit carried away with pranks, formed teams and then had a mostly-friendly war"

"Most of the arrows used had blunt tips, they only left a couple of bruises", Iskall added with a light chuckle -because a war is a laughing matter.

Tommy could only stare at the two with a baffled face. Don't get him wrong, he was very happy and relieved that he hadn't gotten stabbed in the back yet but to hear them laugh it off, something as serious as a war... He couldn't comprehend it. He knew that winners always laughed, they were always happy and upbeat after a victory until they had the rug pulled out from under their feet. Until they were crashed and swatted like they were some annoying insect.

Nothing but a mosquito buzzing in the ear.

He knew because he had been a winner at some point. Once. And after a few months of victory and laughs? After a few months he was nothing but a toy for Dream's sick and twisted games of puppeteering.

Then again, what sort of war had blunt arrows that did not kill? What sort of pranks did these people pull that a whole war broke out? A war with minor injuries as big as bruises and a scrape to the knee -a few broken bones here and there but nothing a potion of healing and golden apples could not fix.

No one died and in the end they shook hands, didn't they?

"I... don't get it", Tommy settled on saying. He received confused glances. "So, no one was mad at anyone? No one was trying to come out on top?"

Iskall considered the question, "Well, both sides were trying to win, we are somewhat competitive"

"Why did no one die?"

The question caught all of them off-guard. Stress was quick to respond.

"Because we are all friends at the end of the day. One of us dying would be horrible", she said it with so much ease, with so much confidence that Tommy was sure that she had never been faced with betrayal -the sort of betrayal that broke a person in two- nor witnessed knives sticking out her back.

She wore a reassuring smile, one that reassured him of the server's safety. At that moment, he was kind of envious of such innocence, something a kid his age should have but he didn't.

"Let's leave the questions for when we meet with Xisuma, alright, Tommy?"

Tommy nodded and when Dandelion sniffed at his feet, he knelt down to pet her soft, white coat.

"The administrator was a joy to be around, knowledgeable and polite". If that statement were true, Tommy would have no problem with meeting the admin. If the people stood before him, the kindest strangers he had ever met, with hearts clear of hardships, were a reflection of the admin, it would be fine. He would be fine; safe.

The people is the reflection of the ruler's heart, after all.

============

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