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Flame missed Lomedy.
It wasn’t that the demon was away from him, nor was it that the latter had passed.
In fact, it was quite the opposite.
Lomedy stood a few feet away, plowing away at the land, readying it for the seeds that will be scattered in it soon. The rabbit had his back to Flame, and it was almost normal.
Almost.
Flame could try to ignore uncomfortable silence between them.
Flame could also try to ignore the fact they were isolated entirely from other players.
But what he couldn’t ignore was despite the fact they weren’t fighting, Lomedy held himself, not as a farmer, but a skilled fighter.
What he couldn’t ignore was the lasting drowsiness from the weakness effect that was knowingly put in his food.
What he couldn’t ignore was the fact he had no choice in whether he wanted to be here or not.
And the worst part about all of this is that Lomedy had done it all.
Lomedy, the person he’d sacrifice anything for, the one he promised to change for, the one he called his best friend.
Lomedy lied to him.
No.
He has been lying to Flame.
And it hurt.
It hurt a lot.
Flame was never good at understanding his own emotions, and now wasn’t an exception.
The demon thought he would be mad, loud, explosive.
But he wasn’t.
Sure, he felt slight resentment towards the fact Lomedy had lied, but in all truthfulness, he didn’t hate Lomedy.
In fact, a large part of him was relieved. Relieved that Lomedy was safe. Alive. And he’d do anything to keep it that way.
He supposed Lomedy knew that.
Flame wasn’t physically restrained here. Sure, he was constantly consuming food with weaknesses effects, but he can tell it’s only minimal doses.
There was no traps surrounding the area. Perhaps due to the fact Lomedy didn’t want Flame to be harmed.
Sure, there were walls, but he could easily build over them with items Lomedy provided. He could even dig through them if he wanted, as he had no mining fatigue.
But he still couldn’t leave.
Because Lomedy threatened Flame with his own life.
It was fucking sick, and Flame absolutely despised the fact it worked.
Flame has long given up trying, and Lomedy seemed prideful in that fact.
Flame hated all of it.
.
.
.
“Mane, I know you can hear me, bro!”
As of currently, Flame was calling out to his brother, who stood on the walls, turned away from the demon.
It felt like he was yelling at a wall.
A wall that was painted as someone he thought cared for him. Someone who raised him from young. Someone who he trusted.
And right now, Mane acted like none of them.
“Why are you even ignoring me?! Lomedy’s gone insane, bro! He won’t listen and he’s being so unreasonable!” Flame continues, but nothing shows that the other actually does hear him.
But he starts to turn a bit, and the demon feels hope that his brother is finally about to face him. Acknowledge him.
But Mane starts walking along the top of the wall.
“Mane, please.”
No response.
Mane just gets further and further.
Flame doesn’t chase after him.
.
.
.
Flame held up his shield in a quick movement, blocking the heavy blow of the mace that came down on him.
The weight subsided as Lomedy switched to his sword, forcing Flame to bring out his own in an attempt to counter, the blades clashing with the sounds expected from metal on metal.
For a moment, it was almost quiet as Lomedy pushed his sword against Flame’s. He could feel the pressure starting to strain his muscles, causing a dull ache. He hoped Lomedy didn’t notice the slight shaking in his grip.
“Come on Flame, weren’t you the one who wanted to fight,” the unfamiliar tone in the voice of his best friend cut through the silence, “Is the self-proclaimed grandmaster seriously losing to a farmer?” Flame could hear undertones of mockery on the title he had for himself..
Every word felt like another stab to his heart.
But he had no response to them.
It wasn’t their first battle since the.. identity reveal.
In fact, they have had quite a few.
Lomedy had promised that if Flame proved to be capable enough in battle, he would let him leave with no consequence.
The first time, Flame had been confident, no, cocky.
Lomedy proved to be better than he had shown throughout their friendship.
And his totem was popped almost immediately.
The second time, Flame was more careful.
Even then, the constant attacks tired him out, and he couldn’t help himself from being careful with his own, fearful of hurting the bunny.
His totem was forced to pop once again.
The third time, Flame was losing hope.
Lomedy brought out his mace this time, and Flame attempted to argue it wasn’t a fair battle but Lomedy would only shoot down his complaints, saying no one fights fair.
Another totem, gone.
In every clash, Lomedy would never fail to remind him how Flame truly isn’t who he believed he was.
He wasn’t the strongest.
He never was.
He prided himself in something that was never true.
By now, he had started to accept that maybe, Lomedy was right to do this in one way or another.
No, he didn’t believe that how he threatened his own life was okay, but it was all for Flame, wasn’t it?
How could he be upset when it was out of care and worry.
Lomedy clearly knew him better than himself.
.
.
.
“Isn’t it great here? Just you and me. No one to ruin our peace.” Flame heard Lomedy speaking from beside him.
They sat on the grass, under the seemingly endless sky of stars. Lomedy was slightly leaning against Flame’s shoulder. No sounds of restless players or aggressive mobs. It was peaceful.
Peaceful in a way Flame doesn’t think he remembered before this.
He peeked his eye open, glancing at his best friend. The only person he needs.
“Yeah, Loms, it is.”