As the candle flickers...
The sound of his favorite mug, the mug his boys had bought for him, shattering as it hit the ground didn’t seem to register, nor did the mean flinch as a few shards flew past his legs, one of them tearing open his jeans and the skin underneath. A small drizzle of blood ran down his leg as Philza stared at the three candles sitting on the shelf below their family painting as the tall yellow one standing in the middle was flickering wildly.
Philza couldn’t believe his eyes. Each of the candles was magically tied to each of his boys and signified the beating of their hearts. Philza would more often as not sit on his favorite chair, watching the flames dance wildly, casting their shadows over the room, creating movements which at times almost seemed as if his boys were home, sheltered under his father’s wings. Philza knew very well that his boys had grown into men however, and they didn’t need his protection anymore. Didn’t mean the man wouldn’t worry about them though. It calmed Philza’s nerves watching the flames shine brightly, knowing his boys were safe and sound.
If one of them extinguished however… Philza took a step closer, the broken shards crunching under his boots, as the yellow one’s flame grew weaker, the shadows cast by its brothers, the red and pink candle standing to either side, towering over it. Philza carefully cupped his hands around the flame, as if to protect it against the elements as he stared into the fire. A faint whisper rose from the fire, too soft to hear, as before Philza’s eyes the flame grew weaker and weaker, before finally fading out.
“No…”, the man breathed as he felt the warmth fade from the candle. It couldn’t be. Surely all three of his sons would be alright, or he’d have known, surely? It had to be a stupid glitch, even his magic would have its faults at times. If he could just light it again… pulling his gaze away from the candles, Philza quickly searched his pockets until he found the matches he was looking for. With shaking hands, he cursed under his breath as with the first stroke nothing happened at first. Concentrating, the man tried again and this time, the flame rose from the match. Holding his breath, Philza carefully brought the match to the candle wick, willing the flame to spread. “Please..”, he pleaded, surprising himself as he heard how desperate his own voice sounded, but the candle refused to light, no matter how many matches Philza used.
Philza took a shaky breath as the last burned out match fell from his hands and hit the ground, staring at the unlit candle. He’d just call Will, he told himself as he opened his messenger bracelet. Just to check up on his son. Just to make sure everything was alright. Slowly, he pressed the button to call his son, willing him to answer.
Ring…. Ring…
Philza held his breath as the dialtone filled the room, deafening to his ears as he waited. Surely the man would answer soon? Would he still be sleeping?
Ring…. Ring…
Philza allowed his mind to wander back to the first moment one of his sons left the house to spread their own wings. Wilbur was the first, despite Technoblade being his elder. With an ache in his chest, the father had hold his son in a tight embrace for a while before waving him off.
Ring… Ring…
Philza had been reluctant to grant the boys’ request as to intervene not so much. They’d be fine, they had promised him. With a heavy heart, Philza knew his boys had become men at last, and had agreed, but not after each of them swore they’d protect one another. Especially Tommy was still so young… and yet even he’d thrive, being taken under the wing by his older brother Wilbur.
Ring… Ring…
Philza recalled how empty and quiet the house had seemed at first. It took a while for the man to get used to it. How he’d miss the sound of Tommy’s laughter filling the rooms or Wilbur’s music drifting down the halls or the smell of Technoblade’s baked potatoes. He made the boys promise they’d visit as often as they could, but they never did often enough.
Ring… Ring..
Philza had known Wilbur had some things on his mind, yet as he reached out to comfort him, his son had just shrugged him off, waving it off as being nervous for some election he was speaking off, before changing the subject with a badly placed joke. Concerned, Philza had asked Technoblade to check up on his siblings, even though he knew Wilbur would probably resent him for that. Technoblade would take care of things.
Ring…. Click.
Philza took in a long shaky breath as he shut off his messenger bracelet, his call left unanswered, dreading the harsh truth of the situation. Slowly, the man allowed his gaze to lift up to the family portrait, meeting the light blue, hazel and violet eyes looking back at him as the men smiled at him from the canvas. Suddenly, Philza knew what he had to do. He wished he had done it earlier. Turning on his heels, the man took long strides towards the door, slowly gaining speed until he was almost running. Pulling his coat from the rack, Philza turned to look at the family home one more time, before heading out the door. He would go to the Dream SMP and no one would stop him. His boys needed him.
