Chapter Text
The kid smelled like death.
He was maybe fifteen or sixteen. Scrappy and lanky with dark blond curly hair. Techno watched him pick through a basket of porcupine quills, a bored expression on his face that was undercut only by the way his eyes kept flicking back towards the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper didn't seem to notice, too busy weighing out the wither bones Techno had brought in. The boy moved over to a basket of volcanic stones instead, picking them up and feeling the weight of them in his hands
"If you're not going to buy anything," the shopkeeper said without looking up. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
The boy froze. A scowl split on his face, and he dropped the stone back into the basket with a clack. He made a beeline for the shelf of dried goods along the wall and picked out a piece of dried melon rind before coming up to wait beside Techno.
"Was just lookin' around," he mumbled.
The shopkeeper ignored him, putting aside the last of the bones and moving on to the little stack of blaze rods. For these, he used a much smaller, more delicate set of scales. The boy fidgeted impatiently while he waited, fingers creeping up to poke at the basket of dried Nether wart on the counter.
"Don't touch that," the shopkeeper said, eyes never leaving the scales as he carefully placed another weight.
The boy let out a frustrated huff, but let his hand fall from the basket.
Techno watched in boredom as the shopkeeper delicately placed one of the smallest weights on the scale and nodded when they leveled.
"I'll give you three emeralds for the bones, five for the blaze rods," he said.
Techno nodded. The shopkeeper took a key from around his neck and ducked under the counter to retrieve his payment.
The instant the man was out of sight, the kid's fingers were back in the Nether wart basket, poking at the dry gnarls of fungus. Techno didn't miss the spite in the kid's eyes that said he was doing this precisely because he was told not to. He also didn't miss the way one of the grayish burgundy knobs disappeared under his palm.
There was a noise from under the counter, and the kid's hand flinched away. He flashed Techno a guilty grin, like he was just messing around and causing trouble for the fun of it. His hand slipped down towards his pocket.
Techno caught the kid's wrist before it could disappear inside.
The kid's eyes widened. He tried to yank his hand back but didn't dare make a sound, gaze flicking to where the shopkeeper was still hidden behind the counter. Techno twisted the kid's wrist, making him wince and easily forcing his hand open to reveal the Nether wart. The kid jerked back. His face contorted in panic as he tried to pull away and make a break for it, but Techno just held him in place and took the Nether wart from his hand.
The shopkeeper stood up then, counting out emeralds in his palm.
Techno shoved the boy's hand down out of view, but held it tightly. The boy's panicked expression was quickly replaced by one of bored impatience.
The shopkeeper looked up and immediately fixed Techno with a strange look, his eyes coming down to rest on the lump of Nether wart in his hand. His brow rose.
"I'm buying this," Techno said, putting the Nether wart on the counter.
The shopkeeper looked down at it, then back up at Techno. Techno stared at him, challenging him to say something. The shopkeeper's eyes flicked over to the kid, taking in his bored expression with suspicion. He turned back to Techno.
"Anything else?" he asked flatly.
Techno blinked, then looked at the kid, whose jaw tensed.
Nether wart and melon rind. Two common ingredients in healing potions.
"Anything else?" Techno parroted, not missing the way the kid's eyebrows jumped.
The kid glared at him, flinty eyes flickering towards the shopkeeper who watched them both, unamused. Techno could practically hear the way the kid's teeth ground together. Maybe he would need those porcupine quills after all. The powder was good for a tooth ache.
The kid stood up a little straighter.
"Half an ounce of gold dust," he issued, like a challenge.
Another ingredient in healing potion.
Techno nodded, ignoring the flash of surprise on the kid's face, and turned back towards the shopkeeper. For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Then the shop keeper scowled and slipped into the back room where more precious ingredients were kept.
The kid yanked again at Techno's hold on his wrist, and this time he let him go. The kid took a step away from him, holding the melon rind close to his chest like he expected Techno to take that from him too, but he didn't run.
"I don't need your pity," the kid hissed.
Techno raised his eyebrows, looking at the kid. His clothes were clean enough but worn thin and almost threadbare in places. His face still held some of the softness of baby fat, but the rest of him was almost startlingly skinny. Techno's fingers had curled easily around his entire wrist, bony and fragile with anemia.
The smell of death hung heavy around him.
"Would you rather I tell him how you were planning to pay?"
The kid scowled and opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, the shopkeeper was back. The kid closed his mouth and glared at his own shoes instead. They seemed to be falling apart.
The shopkeeper placed a small vial of gold dust on the counter next to the Nether wart and pushed them towards Techno. Techno immediately handed them to the kid, who shoved them into his pocket with an angry frown.
The shopkeeper slid seven emeralds across the counter instead of the agreed-upon eight.
A whole emerald for a knob of Nether wart and half an ounce of gold powder. Scam.
Techno didn't bother complaining, adding the emeralds to his purse with a nod and heading for the door. The kid stepped up to the counter to pay for his melon rind. Techno hung around by the door, idly examining the garland of dried bay leaves that hung in the window, just long enough to make sure the shopkeeper took the kid's copper. Then he left the apothecary, letting the door swing shut behind him.
He made it almost halfway down the cobblestone street before a voice rang out.
"Hey!"
Techno kept walking, even as the sound of running footsteps grew louder behind him.
"Will you fuckin' wait a minute?" the kid said when he caught up, grabbing Techno's sleeve.
Techno stopped in his tracks, turned slowly, and fixed the kid with a heavy glare before looking at where his sleeve was bunched up between the kid's bony fingers.
The kid winced and let go instantly. Techno turned back and continued on the way he was going.
"Wait," the kid said, jogging to keep up with him.
Techno didn't slow, but didn't speed up to lose him either. "What do you want, kid?" he asked, hoping that the faster he pushed through this conversation the faster it would be over.
"That's what I'm trying to ask you!" the kid said. "I meant what I said in there. I don't need your pity. So tell me what you want and I'll pay you back."
A pair of soldiers were coming down the street towards them. Techno nodded politely, receiving a curt nod in return as they passed. The kid pressed a little closer to Techno's side. Techno waited until the soldiers were out of sight before lightly shoving him away.
"You can pay me back by leaving me alone," Techno said.
"Wh—bu—no!" the kid spluttered. "You can't just—"
Techno stopped walking with a sigh. The kid crashed into his shoulder, stumbling a little. Techno turned to face him.
"Look, kid," Techno said. "Take those back to whoever needs them. You got a win today. Sometimes you need to swallow your pride and not push your luck."
Techno started on his way again. For a moment, he thought the kid had taken his advice. Then the footsteps started up behind him again and Death above. Techno sighed deeply.
"What makes you think there's someone else?" the kid asked, scrambling to keep up.
Because you smell like death, and I don't think it's yours, Techno thought.
"Maybe it's just for me," he continued.
"Then use it for yourself," Techno said. "I don't care."
"But—"
The kid grabbed his sleeve again. Techno whipped around, huffing heavily through his nose as he glared at the offending hand. This time, the kid flinched but didn't let go, fingers tightening around white cotton.
"Kid—" Techno started, warning.
"No, listen," the kid insisted, tugging slightly on his sleeve. "There's got to be something you want. Work you need done or something I could…get for you. I just. I don't wanna be in your debt."
Techno took in the lanky kid who clung to him. The way his feet shuffled awkwardly in threadbare shoes. The open, earnest expression on his face.
Techno didn't trust it for a second.
"I'm just gonna keep following you until you tell me," the kid insisted. "So come on. What do you want?"
Techno stared up at the sky as if Death herself might save him.
From how Phil described her, she'd probably just laugh.
"You're good at brewing potions?" Techno asked.
The kid nodded. "The best," he claimed. Somehow, Techno doubted that.
Techno sighed deeply. "Fine," he said. "Follow me."
The kid grinned.
Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea, bringing an unknown, scrappy, potentially desperate kid with an obvious case of sticky fingers back to his camp. But Techno was known to, on occasion, make questionable decisions under peer pressure. Not that he considered the kid a peer. Child pressure? No, that sounded worse.
"You're a traveler?" the kid said, already splitting from Techno's side to go poke around in his things.
"What gave it away," Techno said, flatly, standing next to his horse in the middle of his very obviously temporary campsite.
"Well I haven't seen you around town before," the kid said, apparently not detecting the sarcasm in his question.
Techno grabbed the back of the kid's shirt and pulled him back from the saddlebag he was a second away from rifling through. He shoved the kid away, ignoring the indignant squawk that followed and opened up the bag himself, pulling out a collapsible brewing stand and various ingredients—blaze rods, ghast tears, fermented spider eyes, Nether wart. On second thought, he put back the jar of spider eyes. Invis was useful but more steps than he felt like dealing with. Better stick to just regen and strength.
"So you decided to follow a complete stranger into the woods," Techno said, looking over his shoulder to catch the kid watching him intently. "Doesn't sound like the smartest decision to me."
The kid spluttered.
"Well you're the wrongun who invited a kid to his campsite in the woods so—holy shit, I really shouldn't be here, should I?"
Techno snorted, watching as the kid's eyes widened in realization.
"You're more than welcome to get out of my hair any time you like," Techno said, hopefully.
The kid seemed to consider it, and Techno held his breath, but then he shook his head.
"No," the kid said. "I don't want to be in your debt. Especially if you're a wrongun."
Techno let out the breath he was holding, disappointed. "That's some flawed logic, kid," he said.
The kid crossed his arms. "Stop calling me kid. My name's Tommy."
"Don't care. Didn't ask," Techno said, setting up the brewing stand on the ground.
"You're fuckin' rude, you know that?" Tommy said.
"Oh no," Techno deadpanned. "The child called me rude. How will I recover from this mortal blow. Come over here and sit down. If you're gonna be botherin' me, might as well make yourself useful."
Tommy stared at him, gaping slightly, but after a moment, he came over and sat down across from Techno in the grass.
"Have you made regen before?" Techno asked. Tommy nodded. "We'll start with that."
Techno pushed a mortar and pestle towards Tommy and opened up a tin of blaze rods. He held the open tin out to Tommy and noted the way his eyes widened and fingers twitched. He only took one, though, snapping it into smaller pieces to fit in the mortar. Techno shut the tin and placed it back with the other potion ingredients. Then he took a few small glass bottles and started filling them from a water skin.
"What's your name?" Tommy asked, grinding the blaze rods with more practiced motion than Techno had expected.
"Technoblade," he said.
"Technoblade," Tommy repeated, flatly. "That's long as fuck."
"It's three syllables," Techno pointed out, clipping the first filled bottle to one leg of the brewing stand and feeding in the siphon.
"Three syllables too many."
"That means I wouldn't have a name at all."
"Yes, that would be better," Tommy said firmly.
Techno had to force himself not to snort. The kid wasn't funny. He wasn't.
"Most people call me Techno," he offered. It was only sort of a lie. Most people didn't call him anything at all. Only one person called him Techno, but in Techno's opinion he was the only person who mattered. So.
"Hmm, Techno," Tommy said. "That's fine I guess."
"I wasn't looking for your approval."
"Mimimi," the kid mocked. "I wasn't looking for your—that's you. That's how you sound."
Tommy leaned forward to pour the blaze powder into the fuel chamber.
"Wait," Techno said, holding his hand out for the mortar and petal. "Let me see."
Tommy scowled, but handed him the bowl. "What? Why?" he said. "Don't trust me?"
Techno examined the contents of the mortar. Tommy had done a good job. The powder was fine and even, not pounded into dust but no big pieces left either.
"I literally met you like an hour ago, failing to shoplift," Techno said, handing the bowl back to Tommy. "No. I don't trust you."
"Hey!" the kid squawked. "I would have gotten away with it if you hadn't stopped me!"
Techno shook his head. "No, you wouldn't have."
The kid opened his mouth to argue. Before he could, Techno explained.
"There was an anti-theft spell over the door," he said. "You would have been caught the second you tried to leave."
The kid froze, then deflated a little. "Oh," he said.
"Yeah, 'oh,'" Techno said. He nodded towards the brewing stand. "Come on. You're the one who wanted to help."
Tommy muttered something nonsensical and insulting as he carefully poured half of the blaze powder into the fuel chamber. Techno ignored him, too busy watching him work. He had steady hands and a good eye. Some people used a funnel for this, but the kid didn't seem to need it, filling the chamber to the top and closing it.
Techno opened up a cloth pouch of Nether wart and dropped one into a small grinder. He turned the crank, grinding the fungus into a paste.
"Why d'you have fresh Nether wart?" Tommy said, wrinkling his nose as he watched. "Dried works exactly the same and it doesn't go bad."
So the kid really did know his stuff. Techno hadn't expected him to recognize Nether wart in its hydrated form. The color was much brighter, and the fungus lost about half of its volume when it was dried. Tommy was right, too. There was no advantage to using fresh over dried and dried lasted much longer, so it wasn't exactly common to find it in apothecaries.
"I collect it myself," Techno explained. "It takes a few days to dry, so if I'm gonna use it soon anyway I don't bother."
"Huh," the kid said, interested. "So you've been to the Nether?"
Techno nodded, handing Tommy a small flask to hold while he scraped in the thick Nether wart paste.
"I'm in and out a lot," Techno said. "Traveling's much faster, and there's always demand for Nether resources."
Tommy whistled as Techno scraped the last of the clumpy red paste into the flask and handed him his water skin to hydrate it. Despite preferring the dried variety, Tommy handled the fresh Nether wart well enough, hydrating the paste with less water than one would use for powdered, and swirling the flask carefully to create a solution without introducing too many air bubbles.
"That's cause it's dangerous as fuck," Tommy said, clearly impressed and doing a bad job of hiding it. "You actually bring your horse in there?"
"Not always," Techno said. "But when I do I keep a steady supply of fire protection."
"Not when it's just you?"
Techno shrugged. "I have my own protection."
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
Techno sighed. He pulled back the corner of his mouth to reveal a thick, pointed canine jutting out from his bottom row of teeth. Tommy's eyes widened, jumping from the tooth to his snubbish nose, to the subtle points of his ears.
"You're a piglin hybrid," he said.
Techno nodded curtly. "You done with that?" he asked, holding his hand out for the flask.
Tommy rolled his eyes, but handed the flask over.
"I don't know what the point of me helping is if you're just gonna pick over everything I do," he complained.
Techno ignored him, pulling out a bottle of ghast tears. He could tell even from a distance that Tommy had done well with the paste, adding enough water to prevent the paste from burning, but not enough to make distilling take forever. What he didn't trust Tommy with was the ghast tears. This stuff was annoying to collect.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Tommy demanded.
Techno looked up. The kid looked horrified, eyes locked onto the little bottle.
"Making regen?" Techno said.
Tommy shook his head.
"No, no," he said. "You have to make the awkward potion first."
"The…what?"
Tommy blinked at him, staring in disbelief like Techno was the one making no sense.
"The awkward potion," he insisted. "Nether wart and water. Have you never made a potion before?"
"You mean potion base," Techno said. "I've never heard it called 'awkward potion' in my life. I think someone pranked you."
The kid opened his mouth to argue, then something like realization dawned in his eyes and he scowled. "Fuckin' Wil," he muttered.
"It works fine if you add them both at once," Techno said. "Saves time. And blaze powder."
But Tommy shook his head, holding out a demanding hand. Techno handed over the flask without thinking.
"The sodium in the ghast tears would break down the proteins in the Nether wart fiber and release amonia. You've been literally poisoning yourself with your regen potions. How have you stayed alive this long?"
Techno blinked, watching Tommy clip the distilling flask to the heating plate and start twisting the knob to compress the fuel chamber. The pressure would activate the blaze powder, releasing heat to evaporate the Nether wart, and magic to activate its binding properties.
"It's never hurt me before," Techno said, a little amused at Tommy's insistence.
Tommy scoffed.
"Yeah," he said. "Cause it's regen. You're wasting healing on the damage its doing to you. It'll be stronger if you do it in two steps and it takes like five extra minutes to do it properly."
Those words, if Techno had to guess, were not originally Tommy's. There was absolutely nothing about the kid that screamed "patience."
"Who taught you how to brew?" Techno asked, watching as Tommy held his hand near the distilling flask to feel that it was heating.
"My brother," he said. "He has—had a potion shop."
Techno caught the way the lines of his face hardened.
"Training you to take it over?" Techno said.
Tommy's expression darkened. "Something like that," he said, hollowly.
Techno resolved not to push the topic. Tommy's tone lightened quickly, chattering aimlessly and asking questions about Techno's travels while they waited for the potions to brew. It was clear Tommy hadn't seen much of the world, enraptured by all of the places Techno had been.
"So you just go wherever you want?" Tommy asked. "Whenever you want?"
Techno shrugged. "Pretty much," he said.
"Damn," Tommy said, eyes shining. "I'm gonna do that one day. Just fuckin' go."
There was a raw kind of want in his expression. Something more than just the brazen declaration of a kid who had never been six steps outside of his village.
"But," he continued, eyes softening a little. "Don't you get…you know…lonely?"
He cringed even as he said it, and Techno might have teased him if it weren't for the stark honesty.
"I have a friend I winter with," Techno admitted. "Sometimes we travel together, if we're interested in the same places. That's where I'm heading after I leave here. To meet up with him."
"What's he like?"
"Old," Techno said reflexively. "Stubborn. Overly protective. Endlessly patient. Smarter than anything, but sometimes really, really dumb."
Tommy smiled. "Sounds like someone I know," he said.
Techno hummed.
When the regen potions were done, they made strength. Techno had Tommy grind the blaze powder again, this time handing him the whole tin of blaze rods. He was pretty sure Tommy stole a few, but he didn't mind. He had plenty and could always get more.
It was…nice. Having company for the afternoon. When he wasn't with Phil, Techno spent months on end on his own. Which was fine. He was solitary by nature and often felt exhausted after spending too long around anyone other than Phil. But something about Tommy made him comfortable, maybe just in the easy way he overtook a conversation.
Which wasn't to say Tommy wasn't exhausting. He definitely, definitely was.
By the time the pots were done, the sun was getting low.
"You should get going," Techno said. The kid nodded, pushing himself to his feet.
"Yes," he said, nodding solemnly. "My many, many wives will be expecting me."
Techno rolled his eyes.
"Sure," he said. "Be careful in the woods."
"I'm always careful," Tommy said. "It's one of my several middle names."
"Alright, Tommy. See you."
"Bye."
Tommy made it to the edge of the clearing before he stopped. Techno watched him think for a moment and then turn back around.
"Uh," he said, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "Thanks. For the ingredients. And for not getting me caught."
Techno blinked, surprised. "Uh, sure," he said. "No problem."
Tommy nodded. Then he quickly came back over to where Techno was sitting, knelt down, and threw his arms around him in a hug.
It lasted maybe half a second, and Techno was too surprised to do anything other than blink stupidly, and then Tommy was grinning, shouting "Bye!" and running off back towards the village.
Techno stared blankly at the trees the kid had disappeared between.
That was…exceedingly weird.
Were kids just…like that? Kids weren't just like that. Right?
His first thought was that the kid had picked his pockets. So he checked the purse fastened to his belt, and the knife, even his rings and earrings. But they were all still there.
Then he stopped, actually thought for a second, and turned around to check his potion ingredients.
The tin of blaze rods was still there. The ghast tears. Nether wart. He emptied the compartment of his saddlebag, taking inventory. The kid could have easily reached inside while his arms were around Techno.
Gold powder, sugar, magma cream, pufferfish spines, dried spider eyes…
Fermented spider eyes. Where were his fermented spider eyes?
He quickly searched the rest of his bag just to be sure. But no, his jar of fermented spider eyes was gone.
What did the kid need fermented spider eyes for? he thought, repacking his potion ingredients. The kid was making a healing potion he didn't need—
Healing plus fermented spider eyes. Harming.
Techno growled, shoving the last of the ingredients back in his back and pulling the clasp tighter than he needed to.
Stupid. He was stupid. The kid had tricked him.
Techno grabbed his sword. The kid couldn't be that far ahead of him. And spider eyes took a long time to ferment. Might as well get them back.
He huffed heavily through his nose as he stalked off towards the village.