Chapter Text
Tommy rushes through the streets, passing by the many buildings in town. The fresh morning air waking him up along the way to the church. He was going to be late to the sermon, the town would kill him if he wasn’t there again. He had worked through it last week, not thinking much of his absense. Boy was he wrong. He nearly got sent out to the wolves. He knows not to miss these sermons now, he had a nice life, he would like to keep it.
having to go to the church once a week was a bother, Tommy doesn’t believe that the gods still existed, but the small town he lives in would throw him out to the wolves if he said anything like that. It was blasphemy not to believe in them. Tommy does believe that once, a long time ago, the Gods traversed their realm. There were too many unexplained things for that not to be the case, but it just doesn’t make sense for them to still be around. Because if they were so powerful why would the world be in the state it is. Wars being waged, droughts, famines, floods, all of them happening everywhere. Where were the gods when the world was in trouble huh?
There is a war being waged out there, he knows that, the occasional merchant delivering the news together with their wares. The last merchant they had pass through had been telling the folk to pack up and leave. Apparantly the fronts were moving, more and more land being lost in the battles. The frontlines had neared not too far out from entrance of the valley thet had settled in. The merchant had packed up and taken some of the townsfolk with him, moving past the mountains. Tommy sometimes wonders if he should have joined them when he still could. But he had his life here, detested by most townspeople, yes. But still a life. He mended and tailored the clothes for the people, and he got enough in return to live comfortably. It was a fine arrangement, and it would continue that way until he was driven out for saying something stupid, a very real possibility. Or if the capitol would call for their people to fight against the invading Empire.
Right, the conscription. This town was too far out to be reached easily by the news and most officials didn't bother going all the way out there. But with the conflict heating up there was a real possibility of even them being called to action. Tommy takes in a deep breath, he doesn't need to worry about a war. He can do what he does best until the eventual call happens. He can live in the town with many adults who only barely put up with him. He could have gotten dealt a worse hand, being as young as he was and having finished an apprenticeship and owning his own, tiny, store was more than he could have asked for really.
Tommy slows when he sees the group of people still waiting outside the church catching his breath. He hears the sound of conversation drift over as he stays out of the group. Not paying attention to any one in particular. The parts of the conversation he did catch were not clarifying to him in the slightest. The war was something he heard a lot of, and some kid or another nearly fell into the well and something or other was being said about the god they were holding the sermon for today. They didn't follow just one god, they didn't have the luxury to do so. The cities he had heard of had temples for multiple of them. Here they settled for a tiny church -if you could call it that- and someone who sort of knows what he's doing acting as the priest.
Tommy would try to guess what God they'd worship that day when he was new in town, but he had quickly given up on that, far too many minor gods being of importance to the day to day work here. These days he just showed up and hoped he wouldn't have to do anything all too out of pocket.
He notices the doors open before he sees the crowd move into the building. He sighs, time to waste another morning! He closes in at the back of the mass, quietly making his way to an nearly empty pew in the back of the room. No-one payed attention to what he did here, and he got his personal space respected, he likes it that way.
The big doors behind him close after a few minutes of silence, and Tommy zones out to the voice of the priest. He was bored out of his mind, blah blah blah, this god deserves the utmost respect, blah blah blah. He would have preferred getting some more work done he had a project in mind which he hoped he could sell to the next merchant but he needed to finish his commisions first. Tommy tries zoning out instead, it was better than being bored out of his mind. He absentmindedly things that the sermons maybe did have their merit in forcing him to take breaks. He reflecively followed the motions of the people around him, standing up whenever they did, sitting down whenever he sees people doing so. Yeah, it was kind of peaceful.
“Tommy! You’ve been chosen today to offer your devotion to the Gods!” Tommy snaps out of his thoughts, what the fuck. This never happened. Being chosen like this was an honoured position, and Tommy knows no-one here liked him. They didn't mind him, but like? No he knew he was too annoying to be liked. Everyone turns around to look at Tommy and he just wanted to sink away. What Gods were they offering to today, Tommy had to think of something fast. He doesn’t have an offering with him, he didn’t think he was going to get chosen.
“Tommy. The blood God awaits your offer.” Tommy looks up to the priest, The Blood God? That’s who they were praying to? Well that explains why he was chosen today, no one wanted to sacrifice anything to a God like that. Tommy sees the dagger in the hands of the priest, and oh- Oh they wanted him to offer his blood. He stands up unsure, walking down the aile. The knife was glinting mysteriously, the eyes on him glinting in anticipation. As if taken over by the bloodlust this God signified. A trembling hand grabs onto the dagger, eyes unsure, mind reeling with the consequences if he just decided this isn't worth it! I like my blood inside my body thank you very much. But he didn't have much of a choice, because the alternative to letting blood spill was getting excommunicated, his entire life he built, gone in an instant.
He thinks to what he knows of The Blood God. He was known as that for many reasons, his domain reaching from war and bloodshed to something else Tommy didn't quite recall. There were many reasons why they could be praying to him this time, Tommy didn’t ponder that much as he opens his palm above a readied gold plated bowl. He takes a deep breath and he slices open his palm, letting the blood drip into the bowl as he winced in pain. The slice left a deeper cut than he intended it to make.
He was going to struggle with finishing his work all day with this wound. He had a feeling it was going to take ages before this was going to heal. Tommy waits until the bleeding slows before moving away. He grabs the bowl of blood and muses if he knows any sigils that could be of use here. He wracks his brain, nothing coming from it, he never was good at writing or reading but it was annoying that his mind blanked entirely. In a spur of the moment action Tommy walks between the pews with the bowl and goes outside. Letting the blood spill in front of the doors.
That must be enough to prove he could be trusted, right? He turns around to check his work when he sees a man watching him from the town square. A weird glint in his eyes as the man follows the blood being spilled. Fucking weirdo. Tommy quickly scans over the man, the clothing far too fancy to be any of the locals. It was slightly off-putting to watch the man stand there and just stare. Tommy quickly made his way back inside. Expectant eyes on him as he moves back to the altar.
There was a small amount of blood still left in the bowl. Fuck, he had to do something with that didn’t he? His eyes running over everything he could use it for before he chokes when the smell of blood reaches his nose in a surprising intensity. He notices the bowl being led to his mouth by the priest, who nodded at him as Tommy nearly stumbled back in disgust and fear. He had to drink his own blood? Oh Gods, Tommy almost gags when he feels the liquid touching his lips. Okay Tommy was going to be okay. He had to swallow that and then he can leave right? Right. He forces himself to open his mouth, the blood trickled into his mouth, he almost passes out from the taste as he slowly swallowed a mouthful of his own blood.
“We will see if The Blood God is satisfied with your offer.” Tommy stood there, blood covering only him. He stumbled back to the back of the church, sitting down to let the experience wash over him. He didn’t follow any of the rest of the sermon, even as the other Gods got their offers, only standing up to leave when he noticed others leaving.
He sees the same man from before in the town square the moment he leaves the building, he still seems to be looking around for something. He does not have the energy to deal with a stranger head still reeling from the experience he just had. He does decide to keep an eye on the stranger as he walks past him on his way to his store. One of the townspeople walks up to him with a smile and he sees them point in his direction. The guy better not be going to him, Tommy was going to curse him out if he did. His day had been long enough already. He starts walking home more quickly, clenching his fists blood starting to seep out of his wound again. He is going to have to fix that once he’s home.
As soon as Tommy reaches his shop he sees the man walk up to him. Looking for his keys frantically he gets blood all over his clothes, damnit he needs to get in and cover that damned wound.
“Hullo.” A gruff voice says behind him. Not one of the townsfolk, why did the world hate him today. Tommy inhales the fresh outside air and turns around to see the man behind him. He hadn’t taken the time to actually look at him well before. He was tall, well built, expensive clothes showing it off. His hair was in a long braid, brown much like his eyes, both almost had a red glint in them and Tommy had to stop himself from staring too long.
“Hi?” Tommy continued on getting into his building, he wanted to change quickly. He wanted to be presentable, not to mention that he wanted to get some scrap fabric to fix around his hand, so he doesn’t have to be as careful around everything. His hand just won't stop bleeding all over the place, he cursed out the priest in his mind.
“You’re Tommy right?” The man asked him, and Tommy wanted to groan, so he actually wanted something from him, great, not like he had other stuff to do today, like his actual job. So unless this guy needed something mended he should fuck off to where the rich bastard came from.
“Yeah. What is it to you?” He softly mutters a bitch behind those words, he should not cuss out people just because he wanted to, he should not cuss out people just because he wanted to. Especially not the rich assholes.
“Good, I need something mended.” The man says, “Is now a good time?” Tommy sees the man look at his clothing and then at his hand, something strange glimmering in his eyes at the sight of the blood. Fucking great, of course the guy would be weirded out by the blood. It makes sense, who wouldn't look like that if they just met someone and most of them was covered in fresh blood as if he just murdered something.
“Unless you want to wait half an hour or more not really, I’ve got quite some work to get done by the end of today.” Tommy wanders into his little workplace and ends at the door to his living space. It was small, most of it being used for storage as well. A small kitchen and then a bed put into the wall.
“I can wait.” Damnit, Tommy had hoped that would get the guy away for the rest of the day. Who had the time to spend at least half an hour doing nothing, was he fucking rich? It seemed so with those clothes and the way he held himself. Wait did the guy have a sword? Tommy quickly takes a look and yup! on his waist seemed to be a sword. Great.
“Well then take a seat, and don’t touch anything.” Tommy quickly went into the back, closing the door behind him with a slam. Most people dealt with his temper well, they knew him, they knew they shouldn’t expect customer service for the price he asked for the job he did. Why did he have to get a stranger in his store today. He shrugged off his stained clothes and put them in his washing basin. Fuck he needed to get water from the well before he could clean those, and he did not intend to leave the blood to dry. It would be awfully hard to get out once it dried.
That was a problem for later Tommy, he can't well clean blood when he is still bleeding all over the place. So for now he goes to his pile of scrap fabric and tried to find a suitable piece to tie around his hands. It didn't take long to find one. Holding the fabric he found with one end between his teeth he wraps the fabric around his injured hand, making an easy knot in it and checking if the makeshift bandage was tight enough to not go off if he moved around. Once he is satisfied with the result he goes and shrugs on his backup set of clothes. And grabs a bucket from the floor with his good hand.
He leaves the building from the back door, making sure to make sure the new guy didn’t notice him leaving. The way to the well isn’t too far and Tommy was glad for it. Struggling around with a full bucket of water was not something he enjoyed. The short path made his job a lot easier whenever he had to wash clothes himself. The well was not busy at this time of day, most people just having gone home to eat something instead of immediately starting on their work like Tommy, most people didn't have a weirdo waiting in their store, Tommy thinks. So he gets some water in no time and once he makes it back he let his dirtied clothes soak in the water.
He sighs before leaving the backroom and entering the storefront. The man sitting in one of the two chairs reading a book. Okay so this man really was rich, he can fucking read. “What do ya want you rich bitch?” And instead of the insulted expression Tommy was expecting he heard a soft huff. Okay, weird ass rich fucker, one without a sense of pride that could get hurt by him.
“I need you to fix some of my clothes, or I’d like some replacements made for them.” Tommy rolled his eyes, replacements would take much longer and cost much more and depending on what the man wanted he’d need some new materials. “Okay that tells me very little, I know I’m the biggest professional, but I need to see what you want to be mended, or I can’t do shit.”
The man silently took out tattered clothes. If Tommy didn’t know better this looked like it was damaged in a fight, but there was no way this guy, wholly uninjured, would go to this town to have his clothes repaired. Not to mention that the fabric was entirely clean, no way it would be clean if it was damaged in a swordfight. All he could make out from the way the clothes fell was that it was supposed to be an off-white shirt. Tommy takes a closer look, but it is really nearly impossible to make out what that shredded up thing is supposed to be.
“Prime man, what did you do to get that so fucked up?” Tommy looks back up at the man, expressionless in his answer. “Fight.” Tommy has a hard time believing that, but considering this guy could get him quite some money he wasn’t going to complain.
“Well there’s no way in all the realms I’m going to be able to fix that fucked up thing.” Tommy took a hold of the fabric. Was that fucking silk? How did he manage to fuck that thing up so much, no one in their right mind would fight in silk! There was no way Tommy could make a replacement of the same level as this thing was, he was good, but he had no way to get his hands on great amounts of silk. Closest he could get was maybe some silk details from the one time a merchant came into town and had sold him some of it. He’d probably have to make the shirt out of linen or if he had enough of it some of the cotton he had lying around, no way he’d give this guy the cheap wool or flax fabric he had lying around everywhere which he used for most of his work.
“That’s fine, are you able to make a replacement?” The man takes back the garment and put it back into his bag. It would be easy to make a replacement, this was just a shirt, not an embroidered piece. It would be child’s play. “Not from silk. Unless you want something shittier than the shirt you just showed me.” Standing up to grab his samples of linen and cotton to show he yelled back, “I can make it from linen or cotton instead, unless you want something worse?” When Tommy brought back the samples he saw a weird look in the eyes of the man for a second. “Linen will be fine, though if you can add in some silk for the cuffs that would be good.”
Tommy saw the man stare at his injured hand. Weird bitch. “You can come back tomorrow afternoon to get your measurements taken, I need to fix up my other commissions first.” The bitch was lucky that Tommy wasn’t busy right now. He hopes the man doesn’t actually return tomorrow, missing out on some money was fine for him. “Alright. See you tomorrow.” He man awkwardly gets up and walks to the door. Turning around right before the door as if trying to say one last thing, but ultimately deciding not to. If Tommy slams the door behind the man he is well in his right to do so. Weird motherfucker.
---
Tommy’s day is almost busy enough to allow him to forget how weird yesterday was, almost. So when the rich dude enters his store he groans audibly dropping his new project to the ground. There goes his free time. It had been hard to work as fast as he normally did with his hand injury, and especially with his new bulky makeshift wound dressing getting in the way with the finer hand motions, the one he used the day before was completely drenched with blood, and the injury just didn't seem to want to stop spilling blood.
“Hullo.” The man greeted him the same way he did when he came in yesterday. “I assume you want your commission taken?” Tommy stands up and goes to grab his measuring tape. Where the fuck did he put it last. He grabs around the desk he has, stabbing himself on some needles before he manages to grab it. He stares at the other man his question still standing. “So you coming to get measured bitch?” The man nods.
Tommy grabs the guy by the arm, and if he hadn’t seen how strong the guy was yet he’d have been shocked at the muscle mass he grabbed onto. He quickly took all of the measurements he'd need for the poet's shirt he was going to make. He maybe couldn’t read but at the very least he knew the basic numbers. The guy was tall and more lanky than his build showed but when he took the measurements again it was correct.
The man looked so much more awkward in this situation than when Tommy had met him the day before. What a weird guy had wandered into their town. Tommy almost laughed at how awkward the guy looked, he seemed to focus quite a bit on Tommy’s hand again words right on the verge of spilling out. Especially when Tommy flinches at the pain of using his hand slightly wrong, Tommy gladly ignores it though.
“You know you put that dressing on wrong?” The guy says when Tommy steps away from him, having finished putting down the measurements. “I what?” Tommy stops in the middle of his actions. “You put the dressing on wrong, this way it’ll hurt your hand more.” The guy says as the weird look in his eyes returns.
“Who the fuck are you to know that?” Tommy steps backwards, uncomfortable with the way he was getting stared at. “Techno.”
“What?”
“I’m Techno. You never asked.” By prime this guy was way too fucking weird, was he just socially awkward? Man Tommy should have suspected a rich guy wouldn’t know how to talk to the common folk, who else would know how to read and know how to fix fucking bandages of all things. He laughs at the situation, this was going to be funny.
“Okay dude, you really need to relax and stop being weird as fuck. If you rich bastards are like this to common folk you’d get all of us in a revolution against you.” Tommy sighs with a smile as he goes on to grab the material he needs for the new commission. The guy doesn’t respond, just shuffling away to get a pouch from his belt.
Tommy hears the clinking of coin before he sees it, this fucker better pay well. Maybe three silver Primes, he'd be set for the year like that! He is shocked when five gold Primes are dropped on his desk. Golden Primes, not silver, not bronze, Golden. Five golden ones. How much did he have to spend? By Prime that was too much. “That should be enough for the pre-payment right?” Tommy wonders about what realm this guy came from to land in his shop to pay this much for one fucking shirt. He gapes looking from the money to the guy's face, something amused showing up there. "Do you need more?" And Tommy nearly jumps at that, “That’s more than enough big man! I’ll get started on it right now!”
Holy shit, he's set for life! Does he almost feel bad for taking that much money for a shirt, definitely, but he isn't going to complain if this guy doesn't know the worth of money. Tommy found the fabric roll he was going to use and settles. “Would you allow me to see the progress daily?” Right he was still here, wait- Of fucking course Techno wanted something weird, why else would he spend so much on one fucking shirt. “Fine you weirdo, if you have nothing better to do.” Techno laughs a little and gets ready to leave. “Bye.” And as Tommy flinches again as he fucks up with his hand again he doesn’t give the guy a response. Fucking bitch of a priest making him suffer through this. Fucking bitch of a rich guy being a weirdo about it.
---
Tommy notices his hand is hurting more than it should and still hasn't stopped bleeding as he works throughout the day. It was almost enough to make him believe the blood god was still around, but thats nonsense. Instead he thinks of how Techno had mentioned some days earlier he hadn't used the fabric right. Man was Techno right about that? No it can’t be. He was in no way going to listen to the weirdo for actual advice. The weirdo had in fact stopped in every day like he had said. And for the last few days he had even stayed around a little bit, to see him work on the embroidery on the sleeves, he had decided to embroider some patterns on them. He felt bad for taking so much money from the guy, even if he probably had more than enough of it to afford this. The guy had been quite cool about it too, giving him a suggestion as to what to embroider on the cuffs the day before.
He actually wasn’t as bad as he showed himself to be on the first day, persistent and weird? Absolutely. But bad?
Not really.
It was weird to have someone around. Tommy never really got along with anyone, being the annoying youngster around, who people really only put up with because they had no reason to throw him out. He serves his purpose to them and they give him what he needs to survive. Having someone actually around who doesn’t actively dislike him and spends time with him sharing stories even making some jokes... It makes him feel surprisingly happy, and in any other situation he’d have called the guy a friend.
Tommy was embroidering more winding thorns on the second cuff. It was taking longer than he wanted it to. It would probably take another two days to finish properly. And then he had to sew the last details together. He estimated it would take some four more days to fully finish the piece. He sighs, he was getting nowhere, he kept misaligning the stitches.
He keeps working on the embroidery, he needs a break, he will take one once he finishes this part. He then sees Techno walk in. Right, he was going to check up today as well. “Hello kid.” He says when he walks in and Tommy feels himself perk up. “’M not a kid Techno.” Tommy continues working, but he puts too much pressure on his hand and flinches. Techno seems to notice the motion.
“You never fixed the bandaging?” Techno asks and Tommy scoffs. “Well no shit man, you never told me how to fix it and I’m just a tailor how would I know?” Tommy continues on working, he needs to finish this and quick. “Kid you need to get it fixed before it gets worse.” Techno tells him outright.
“Well bitch why don’t you fix it then if its so important?”
Grumbling that he's not a kid, Tommy yelps when Techno gets up and grabs onto his hand unexpectedly. “What? You told me to fix it.”
“What the fuck you can’t just do that.” Tommy tries to yank his hand away, it hurts and doesn’t work, at all. The grip on it stronger than he is able to break out of. Techno takes off the bandage he put on just a few hours ago, Tommy does not want to see the wound, he knows it doesn't look good, and the blood was still flowing steadily.
“What happened?” The man huffs, when he sees the wound. Tommy refuses to look, it can’t be that much bad. “Priest chose me to offer to the blood god.” And Techno’s eyes widen. “They didn’t give you a potion to heal this wound afterwards?”
Tommy can’t help but laugh, a potion? They didn’t care for him enough to give him healing let alone a potion, those were rarely available to them and only the church was able to buy them too expensive for a commoner like him. They were kept hidden for the important people around when they got wounded, not to be used on a kid like him. “You think we have an alchemist in town?”
“No, but I know the teachings of the Blood God better than most.” Tommy looks at the man in confusion, what does he mean by that. Techno seems to notice his question before he’s able to ask, “An offering like this has to be finished with a healing potion or care for the wound. Prime, he’s not just a God of harm he’s also a healer.”
Tommy’s eyes widen, that was what he forgot during his offering, the Blood God was also a healer! Then it makes sense a healing potion might be used. But since when did offerings have rules around them? “They had me hurt myself for nothing?” Techno looks angry, the red glint in his eyes brightening as if they were changing colour. If Tommy didn't expect the response he had before he definitely didn't expect him to get angry at him being hurt.
“Yes. Come on I’ll help you with the wound.” Techno waltzed straight to his backroom, “Woah wait, who told you you can barge right into my home?” Tommy struggled to get him out, Techno ignored him and continued on easily. Seeing his scrap pile he grabbed some fabric he deemed proper enough to tie around his hand. As if with a practiced ease he grabbed some of the water he hadn't used for cleaning and lit a fire. “Need to disinfect the water first.” He had just said when Tommy opened his mouth.
“Prime it isn’t a big deal man just bandage it up and I can continue on your commission.” The man huffs and ignores Tommy, Prime what was up with this guy. Tommy sits there waiting for the water to boil. It’s annoying, and kind of nice to be cared for by a friend. No not a friend, still a weirdo stranger. And Tommy knows what Techno doesnt want him to do, but Tommy was annoying by nature so sitting still was the opposite of what he was going to do when someone tells him to. “Hey, Techno where are you even from?”
“Around.” Well no shit, how else would he get to this place. “Technooooooo, you’ve literally just barged into my home you can’t just tell me where you’re from that’s not fair.” Tommy whines, he’s good at that. Techno won’t be patient enough to hold out on him. No one had been before and he doesn’t expect this guy to be the first. “What if I told you I’m from the Antarctic Empire?” Techno took some of the boiling water and soaked one of the scrap fabric pieces in it. When he walks over to Tommy with the soaked fabric he raises his eyebrows with his question. Tommy jumps back a bit at the sudden heat from the soaked fabric.
“I wouldn’t believe you, there’s no way you got past the fronts undetected.” Tommy scoffs at Techno. “Well then, I’m from the Antarctic Empire.” He rolls his eyes, he can keep his secrets then. What a bitch, he would not have given this guy embroidery if he was going to be like this. Tommy winces at the fabric being tied around his hand. He doesn’t see how this is different from before, but it does feel better than before. He had to give it to him, asshole really does know how to fix up a wound.
“Asshole.” Techno laughs at his response, shoving the door back to the store open with some force. “You just get back to your work, I’ll be back tomorrow to check up.”
---
He was finished, the blouse had a surprising amount of detail for his usual work. He was actually very proud of it. He never really had a reason to make a statement piece, most people just wanted clothes to work in well, no worries about any damage that might come from it. The thorns that winded up from the cuffs up to the shoulder made a beautiful detail he never quite thought he could make.
Tommy is waiting patiently for Techno to pick up his new shirt. He doesn’t know if he was going to miss him but it was certainly going to be strange to go back to being the outsider of this place. But it was simple, and really all he wanted was a simple life, no wars, no offerings, no people to keep track of. Just him and his shop mending people’s clothing.
While Tommy was deep in thought Techno enters the store, wearing the same clothes he was wearing when he entered the town. Tommy didn’t realize but the velvet cloak he wore back then made him seem almost regal. His hand had started healing far more quickly since he got it taken care of properly by Techno, only a scar remaining. All of it indicating that this small chapter of his life was closing. He wonders if he ever will think back on it.
He hands over the package to Techno who looks over it impressed by the craft. Techno grabs his pouch of coins and drops off another 5 golden Primes as compensation. Tommy was set for life with this amount of money. “That’s too much-”
“Just take it Tommy, you outdid yourself on this.” And Techno smiled, Tommy stood there, with more money in his possession than he ever would have gotten in the rest of his life. As Techno walks away through the door, Tommy joins him at the door.
“I’ll see you soon Theseus.” And Tommy staggers, that- that was his real name, he never told Techno that. He never told Techno his name was Theseus. He sees the man walk away from his door, and it almost looks like his hair is turning pink the further he gets.
Tommy closes the door and slides to the floor hands in his hair. That was ominous as all hell. And before Tommy can get back to his room he hears the church bells toll. No time to think about Techno, the bells tolling can only mean one thing. The war had finally reached them.