Short Story Aftermath Adventures: After the Aftermath

Prince Ink

Brain of Cthulhu
Aftermath Adventures
After the Aftermath

This story follows the story of a wolf/human hybrid named Ink from the world of Terraria. After winning the war against an evil clone of himself and an evil organization called the Eternia Cult, Ink struggles with going back to civilian life after having lost many things in the war. (Based off of a Terraria roleplay called Aftermath Adventures that I created, which takes place after the Moon Lord’s defeat. More may be added to this story.)

“Ink, get up.”
I slowly open my eyes to see my wife Weaver standing over me.
“Ink, haven’t you ever heard of the adage ‘The early bird gets the worm’?” asks Weaver, “Not to mention what day it is.”
I look at the calendar. A heart is drawn around today, and inside the heart the words “Happy Anniversary” are visible. Weaver taps me on the shoulder, directing my attention back to her.
“Today is our five year anniversary,” Weaver tells me, “and it’s important to me that we make the best out of today just as we have done every year prior.”
“That’ll be a bit hard,” I say, trying not to accidentally have a churlish response, “We aren’t in the best position financially.”
Weaver sighs, though we both know it’s true. Ever since my foster mother died, I’ve been struggling financially. And Weaver has been struggling longer than I have, as she has been on her own since she was thirteen years old. We both have been praying to find a bonanza in a cave, but never have. Our financial problems always preclude us from doing exactly what we wish to do on special occasions like today. It could be worse, though. At least unlike most couples in our position, we never wrangle about little things that cost a tiny bit.
“I have to go,” I say, “I have a guitar lesson I have to teach today. But don’t worry, I won’t be long.”
“Fine,” says Weaver, “but please stop letting our financial situation control you. You shouldn’t have to be servlle to society after everything you’ve done.”
I nod, and head to say goodbye to Grimrend, the living Tizona I collaborate with for combat, as well as my four (nearly five) year old daughter Lilly, and head out. I remain vigil, as I never know if there are surviving cultists around wanting me dead. On the way I pass the village citadel. Most village leaders have decided to decree that a village citadel must be built in case another war begins. I’m just glad village leaders have decided to evolve since the war began.
A man decides to jostle me as I walk, causing me to fall to the ground and drop both my guitar and music. As the guitar hits the ground, it plays a very discordant note. I hear it loud and clear, being that I am part wolf and my hearing is better than that of a normal human. I look around for my music, and see it having dropped down a small hole under a house. I grope for the music, eventually finding it. A small crowd has decided to hover around me, which makes me a bit uncomfortable. After the crowd backs up, I continue on my way, eventually arriving.
After the guitar lesson, I continue on with the day. I have never been a laggard person. Heck, I hardly ever slow down to enjoy things in life. It’s a bad habit I got into during the war. In the distance, I hear plaudits as a young writer finishes reading out an excerpt from their new upcoming book. I continue on, eventually arriving at a charcoaled forest filled with the remains of giant trees. It’s hard to believe that all of this rubble and charcoal used to be my home. I look around, tears filling my eyes as memories flood back to when I lived here. Memories of the magical place this used to be. Memories of my childhood with my fox/human hybrid sister and the last dryad in the world. Memories of the only mother figure I knew, who is now no longer with us.
Suddenly I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around to see my sister, Arien. She tells me that Weaver is waiting for me. I clear the tears from my eyes, and head back. On the way I buy a bouquet of flowers and a little gift for Weaver. When I arrive, I hold the flowers out for Weaver.
“Happy anniversary, my dear.”
Weaver smiles and takes the flowers, though it’s clear she knows something is wrong. She gives me a hug.
“I’m sorry about getting home so late,” I say somberly, “I know today was important to you.”
“It’s alright, Ink,” says Weaver, “I know it’s been a tough few years.”
“I got you a little something,” I say.
I take out a little box wrapped in gift wrap. Weaver smiles, takes the box, and opens it. Inside are two things: an anniversary card and a watch. The watch’s face is a picture of her and her brother, taken when she was ten. The anniversary card has a picture of Sky Islands on the front, the place I first took her after we met. Weaver reads the card, and examines the watch.
“I love the watch you got me for my nineteenth birthday,” I say, “And though that was five years ago, I still wear it everyday. So I wanted to do the same for you.”
Weaver smiles, tears filling her eyes, and hugs me.
“Thank you so much, Ink,” says Weaver, “It’s amazing.”
Lilly calls for us from upstairs, wanting one of us to tuck her in.
“I’ll tuck Lilly in,” I say, “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll wait for you in bed,” says Weaver.
I smile, and head into Lilly’s room. She’s lying in bed, smiling. I pull the covers over her, and sit on the edge of her bed.
“What song would you like to hear tonight?” I ask her.
Lilly tells me the song, and I play it on my guitar. Lilly soon falls asleep, and I kiss her on her forehead.
“Good night, my little pup.”
I then head to bed with Weaver.
Life has certainly not gotten any easier. But I remain hopeful that one day it will. Until then I have to learn to adjust to having a normal life.
 
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