Time had never been a concept Xephos had put a lot of thought into. The comings and going, the rise and fall, the steady breathing of Minecraftia had always been constant. He's already spoken to Will of the situation. The unforgiving nature of the world that has become so constant. With each breath there's an exhale, the gentle extinguishing of one of the many brilliant lights that littered the small world.
They'd all lost someone. Nano had been taken from Ridge, first by the Flux that left her nothing but a shell and then Xephos had truly ended what had remained. Her husk was laid to rest, Xephos having passed on the flowers to Ridge before returning to his work. A hero had been needed and Xephos wasn't sure Ridge was ever going to forgive him.
Parv had been a quieter passing. A mistake that came so often with uncharted waters and there had been one ill sacrifice. Xephos had found Will that day and thought that he'd lost his friend to the empty void of loss but Strife had pulled through. He always managed somehow. Xephos had learnt about just how strong Will's ability to move forward had become, Xephos' memories having unfolded like a blossom in spring as time had passed.
Xephos had been lucky, for a time. Growing old with Lomadia had been a gift in the end and letting her go had been easy. They'd parted ways, agreeing that neither wanted to see the other's end. She'd left, chasing the sunset on the back of one of her owls.
But now? Fate had caught up with him and the world hung suspended between breaths, a tenseness that filled every rock and crag of this world. Xephos couldn't bare it, an ever reaching stillness to the world that halted for a single moment that stretched for weeks in a suspended goodbye. With each stolen breath from his friend the stillness grew until the world hung suspended in a moonless night.
Xephos couldn't even bare to be inside. It felt cramped and unwelcome next to the glowing fire and the weakened breathing of his friend. He'd never seen such white hair, like a blanket of snow falling on the red fires of fall and those bright steel eyes had turned into the most marvellous shade of silver.
Winter had never been Honeydew's favourite season and the whole thing seemed unnecessarily cruel.
Watching his breath cloud in the night air, Xephos' gaze was stuck on the stars, back to the door that held his friend and that awaiting exhale inside. He barely blinked when Ridge approached, turning his head to look the godling in the eye.
"It isn't time yet," he said firmly, every inch of him tensed and shaking. "You don't need to be here Ridge. We've still got time. I've still got time."
