Chapter Text
Xelqua had a routine. He wakes up, preens his wings, then his “mother”, Evgenia, brings him to his lessons. Evgenia then picks him up and brings him back to their living quarters.
Xelqua slowly rises out of his small bed, it's a bit too small, it fits his body, but not his wings. He lifts himself up with his hands, shaking his wings out. He sits on his knees, looking at his wings. He begins to preen them, cleaning out small pieces of dust, spreading out oil throughout both wings. Preening usually doesn’t take him long; he was born an avian, so it’s easier for him. As Xelqua is preening, a spare feather falls onto his lap. Xelqua picks it up and crushes it into tiny bits of code. He spreads his wings out, checking to make sure that they are presentable.
Evgenia walks into his room, hairbrush in hand. Every day, she insists on brushing his hair, even though Xelqua insists he can do it himself. They don't say a word to each other as she gets on his bed, brushing through his hair with her hand before attacking it with a hairbrush; Evgenia is rough with it, making sure his hair is detangled in the fastest way possible. It’s always uncomfortable, and Xelqua wished she would let him do it. He has to stop himself from crying; it hurts particularly badly when she finds a large knot. His breath hitches, tears prick at the corner of his eyes, and he wipes them away with his finger.
"Iᒲ ʖ∷⚍ᓭ⍑╎リ⊣ 𝙹⚍ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ꖎᔑᓭℸ ̣ ᓭᒷᓵℸ ̣ ╎𝙹リ, ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ᓭ⍑𝙹⚍ꖎ↸リ'ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣ ᔑꖌᒷ ᒲ⚍ᓵ⍑ ꖎ𝙹リ⊣ᒷ∷." [1] Evgenia explains, rubbing his shoulder softly for a moment, before returning to brushing his hair.
—
After Evgenia finishes brushing his hair, they both get up from the bed, and she takes Xelqua’s hand. “Do you want a snack?” She asks, she smiles, her mask hides her eyes, leaving him unable to tell if it is genuine or not.
“Sure,” Xelqua feels her grip tighten on his hand as they leave their living quarters. He watches as she twists her hand around, bits of code rapidly flying into her hand; a fresh red apple appears in her hand. She hands it to him. He takes small bites out of it, careful not to get the juice on the small hangnails on his fingers.
As they walk down the hallway, the only thing Xelqua can hear is his chewing and his “mother's” laboured breaths. The hallway is large, the ceiling seeming to go on forever, the visible walls and doors are built in a Gothic style, and each door is large and ornate. Evgenia brings him in front of a smaller door, which reads“↸ᒷ!¡ᔑ∷ℸ ̣ ᒲᒷリℸ ̣ ⋮⎓ ⎓ꖎᒷ↸⊣ꖎ╎リ⊣ ∴ᔑℸ ̣ ᓵ⍑ᒷ∷ᓭ“. [2] She grabs the door handle, beckoning him in with her free arm. After Xelqua enters the room, she lets go of the door handle, making a loud noise that startles him. Evgenia puts her hand to her mouth and laughs at him. His “mother” walks to the front desk and talks to his instructor. Xelqua waits; he finishes eating his apple.
His instructor, Gaelin, nods in reply to something his “mother” said before turning to Xelqua. Gaelin moves forward and offers his hand, and Xelqua grabs his hand.
“Today, you are going to watch a server. I’m sure you’ll find this interesting!” He says the last word with a bright tone. Gaelin leads him down a short hallway, and they then turn to a dark room with no door. The room has a soft floor, its texture akin to a plush couch. Gaelin brings him to the center of the room. Gaelin lets go of his hand, and they sit down in unison. Xelqua watches intently as Gaelin turns and twists his hand around in an odd way; the stars on Gaelin's hand glowing brighter and brighter until a large beam of light bursts from his hand.
A large rectangle appears in front of them, showcasing what appears to be a player’s base. “This server is called Hermitcraft, it is one of the most famous servers among players,” Gealin informs him. Hermitcraft, I've heard of that server. Pear- Xelqua abruptly stops his train of thought and refocuses on Gaelin and the server. Gealin points to a player, presumably the one who built the base. Xelqua notes the player’s lab coat and goat horns sprouting out of their short blonde hair. The player is messaging someone on their communicator. Gaelin waves his hand again, on the side of the screen? It shows what the player is doing on their communicator.
Zedaph: Does anybody have stone bricks? I need them for my base.
Zedaph, that’s the player's name, Xelqua thinks. He then notices their base seems to be some sort of colosseum. Maybe they’ll make mobs fight! Xelqua smiles, he would like to watch that.
Pearlescentmoon: I have some, ill come over to you.
Evgenis preens his wings, he can’t see her face but he can sense her disappointment. At his behaviour, and the fact that his wings lost their deep purple glamour and have returned to their original form, bright blue, yellow, and red. Evgenia takes a deep breath, Xelqua knows she’s going to chastise him.
“You need to get better at you glamour.” She states. Oh, thats not what he was expecting. “Us watchers have a veryspecific wing color, how else are supposed to identify each other? Your natural wings aren’t ours.” She rubs his back, he doesn’t say anything in reply.
As she preens his wings, Xelqua thinks about his body. His flesh doesn’t feel right, even before the watchers it didn’t feel right. Maybe he could glamour more than just his wings.