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She had never trusted the rift when it first appeared on her land. Grian reassured her that all would be fine. She never wanted to doubt any of her Hermits, so she accepted it. Surely Grian would never endanger his friends. He loved pranks and causing mayhem as much as the rest, but they all would never endanger someone without being there to help them.
It, thankfully, never grew in size but it did draw something in.
Something dangerous.
She had growled and snapped but was ultimately ignored. The rift brought in the Red King. The spirit corrupting Ren to the point she could barely recognise her player. Her Hermit. But the others saw it. Maybe they didn’t see the Red King, but they saw his changes.
Heard their whispers and conversations about getting ‘their Ren’ back and she settled.
They would get him back. They always get each other back.
It had no power on her server.
And they did.
They were successful in getting the Red King spirit out of him. Once it was out, she did the rest. Destroying it so it could not affect any of them ever again. Maybe she spent a bit extra time watching Ren. Making sure he was okay and nudging him this way and that, or nudging her other Hermits towards him whenever she noticed his mind declining even the tiniest bit.
They were hers as much as she was theirs.
But, even she couldn’t protect all of them.
The rift’s presence allowed for Gem to travel to another server. She does not know what it is called. Gem didn’t talk about the server at all here, and she wasn’t going to push. Her Hermits were like Fae, and so was she. Sometimes, questions were better left unasked until the time comes.
Then, it arrived.
It came with a friendly face and a deceiving aura.
She had roared, loudly, begging for Grian to hear her. Alas, he did not. Her calls fell on deaf ears. This thing was not his Grumbot. It was not the Grumbot even she recalled from seasons past. No one could hear her cries. Not with the Red King on her server taking control of Ren at the time. They had more important things to focus on.
There were times she thought Xisuma could hear her but there was a barrier preventing her messages getting through clearly. Something between her and her Hermits. A low growl rumbled through the world at her displeasure. Far away from any Hermits so they didn’t get worried or concerned.
Not that she could blame them.
They all remembered last time her distress caused issues on the servers.
The moon haunted everyone’s nightmares. No wonder many of her Hermits refused to look up at the moon and the night sky. No wonder many of them often refused to sleep.
Though, that didn’t matter. That rift was causing issues between her and her Hermits. Communication that was once loud and clear was shattered and warped.
It brought through animals not of their world. Through paper and voices that were distorted and warped via the rift travel. All the while, that thing stared at it. Its expression never changing but still looked proud and powerful. Controlling her Hermits with little input.
They went through the rift.
And then it broke behind them.
Fifteen of her Hermits, trapped and unable to return home.
If the remaining Hermits heard her cries, they did not show it. But they knew something was off. The air was wrong. Multiple presences that were constantly there were missing. Gone. And their only way home was broken behind them.
How would they return home?
Would they be in one piece?
Everything else that came through was broken in some manner.
No. She ignored those worries and fears. That would be for something to worry about when it happens. They will come back, they have to. Even if she can’t bring them home herself, she wasn’t alone.
There were still Hermits left.
Her presence swam through mines long abandoned by their creator. Stretching far and wide from the spawn area. From the starter village where the remaining players have relocated. Their mega bases and builds were lonely. Far too large and quiet for their liking.
She could hear them talking. Sharing stories and making plans. She could hear their hushed tones about that thing as well. Good, they didn’t trust it.
They are smart, she had to remind herself. They loved challenges and figuring out the solution to problems. This was just another challenge and problem. They would work it out. They always did.
The mines hummed, pushing her essence into a song.
As their words softened and they moved to bed, she watched over the small group. They need to rest and recover. They could not help their friends half-asleep. No matter how much they would argue otherwise. Who knows what is on the other side of that rift.
It connected to an alternative universe to theirs, yes, but also a different server. There was no telling in what would happen when they reopened it.
Her only saving grace was that she could still feel them. It was fuzzy, yes, but present. Stable in her chest and mind. A reassurance that they weren’t gone. Not yet.
That void spot in her heart would never go away after all.
A pickaxe strike on stone sounded. The constant soft clinks draw her away from the sleeping Hermits. No, they weren’t gone and neither was him. Not completely at least.
She wished she could ask him to watch over them but she already knew her answer. Of course he would. At the end of the day, they were all Hermits. They look out for each other. She slipped from the mines, content that they would be fine.
The cold rift was almost beckoning her but she ignored it.
That thing still worried her but she wasn’t going to risk anything by getting close to it again.
Her Hermits will need some time to plan but they will start getting things together. Working out plans and working together as a team. Everyone pitching in where they can. Just like always.
She was not worried about that fact.
They will get them back.
They always do.