#uncle blade

The sword flew from his grasp, the metal glinting off the dull sunlight of the arctic before skidding across the ice lake. He groaned, collapsing to the ground, snow pressing through the blue cape his uncle had generously let him borrow. He glanced up at the light blue sky, his bones aching with the day’s fatigue. His uncle’s footsteps faded away for a moment, giving him but a moment to catch his breath. It had barely been five seconds before a heavy boot stepped near the side of his head, the tip of his sword appearing just above his nose. He let out a tired whine.

“How do you expect to face Wilbur if you could barely hold a sword?” His uncle’s words were a splash of ice cold water, reinvigorating him to the reason why he’d asked to be trained. The sword disappeared, replaced by a scarred hand. Fundy hesitated, before reaching up. Techno pulled him back up to his feet, letting him pat the snow off his clothes before handing him his training sword. “If you would rather hide in the cabin, then I suggest leaving your blade here.”

“Wha— I don’t want to hide in the cabin! I don’t…”

Fundy curled up around himself, letting out a small sigh. He knew how to handle a sword, he’d been through two wars, after all. But months of inactivity had left him weak, and Techno was a master warrior, of course Fundy had no hope of defeating him in combat. He glanced down at the iron blade in his hand, his hand curling against the hilt. But his fingers wouldn’t stop shaking.

A hand enveloped his own, prying the sword from his hold. He let Techno sheathe the sword to his belt, the piglin hybrid’s own sword left within his hand. A part of him felt ashamed for wasting his uncle’s time, even Techno had warned him that he wasn’t ready for training. He had begged his uncle to train him for days, a constant noise in the warrior’s ear ever since Fundy realized that Wilbur would come for him soon. He should have listened to Techno, should have listened to his uncle’s advice. All that he could do was hide. He wasn’t his father, he didn’t have the charm or the words to convince Wilbur himself to leave him alone. He wasn’t Tommy, he didn’t have the confidence or the gall to face a bigger opponent. He wasn’t Techno, he wasn’t a warrior and he didn’t have his uncle’s fearlessness. He was just… Fundy. A boy who only ever wanted to find his place while still remaining in his father’s good graces. Now, he had neither.

He jumped, snapping himself away from his thoughts. He hadn’t even realized that they’d made their way back to the cabin… Fundy shook his head, casting his tired gaze low to the ground.

“There is a reason I didn’t wish to train you.” Techno lead him to sit at a chair that his uncle had dragged out the second day of Fundy’s permanent (temporary?) stay. The piglin hybrid leaned against the wooden railing of the porch, his blood red eyes taking in the sky for a moment. Fundy pulled his knees up to his chest, forcing himself to expect the inevitable speech of how he wasn’t capable of protecting himself, that Techno would be better off fighting for the two of them. Wilbur - during the time where he was locked inside the house - told him that Fundy was never meant for fighting, never meant to be anywhere near the field, may it be political or the battlefield. He reminded him of what he’d done during the Manburg Era… how Fundy had let the temporary power go to his head. But he was wrong, Fundy had been spying for his dad, he never let the power get to his head… right? “You need to heal first, Fundy, before you train.”

Fundy’s ears flicked up at that, tail wagging ever so slightly before he pushed down the bubbling feeling of hope. Techno wasn’t finished. He gave his uncle a hesitant side glance, “W-what?”

Techno sighed, a wince flashing across his uncle’s lips. His uncle leaned down, placing a hand on Fundy’s knee. “What happened with Wilbur… It still affects you. I will train you, honestly Fundy do you think I’d let a freeloader live with me? But, you have to heal first before training.”

“You… You’ll train me? Even if… I’m weak?”

“I assure you, Fundy, that everyone is strong… and everyone is weak. We are strong in our own ways, in the skills that we were gifted with, and with the skills that we’ve honed in our lifetimes. Still, no warrior will ever escape weakness, may it be physical, mental, or emotional… Do you know the story of Achilles?” Fundy shook his head, face heating up in embarrassment, everyone knew that Techno was well versed in the olden myths. Fundy never had time for them, and Wilbur certainly never mentioned them. Either way, he still didn’t know where his uncle was going with it… “Achilles was a great warrior, the greatest some might proclaim. Yet even he had his weaknesses. His heel, his physical weakness for his mother had dipped his whole body in the River Styx… except for his heel. He also had his emotional weakness, Patroclus, whose death sent him into a rage. The point is, Fundy, that even great warriors have their weaknesses.”

Fundy continued to stare, afraid to admit that he… didn’t quite understand what Techno meant. The piglin hybrid sighed at his lack of reaction, reaching up to pet him on the head instead. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. It felt nice, it reminded him of his dad during the good days. After a moment, Techno slowly withdrew, tossing Fundy an apologetic look before gesturing towards the front door. He blinked, realizing that he was shivering… and not because of the cold. He wiped at the tears that pooled at his eyes and fell past his cheeks, but it wouldn’t stop. Fundy let out a small sob, rocking back and forth before lunging forward. He shouldn’t surprise Techno, but he just wanted to be held. He just wanted someone to hold him for a bit.

“I don’t want to h-hide. I-I want to… I want to face him. I want to… to ask him why… why…”

He held onto his uncle’s shirt, claws poking through the cloth but Techno didn’t seem to mind. Fundy couldn’t stop crying, bawling right into Techno’s chest like a child. His uncle held onto him just as fiercely, rocking him back and forth while whispering reassuring words into his ears.