Finding Them

          The sun rested over the mountain peak when the four siblings had made it back to the inn. Snow fell gently from the sky once again, it wasn't enough to stick to the browned grass, but it was nice nonetheless.

"I'm going to go make some tea, anyone want any?" Phil asked the other three. Techno and Wilbur nodded.

"Can I have hot chocolate?" Tommy asked meekly. Phil nodded, walking off to get the ingredients. The other three took a seat on the small couch, watching as Phil worked. He took the bucket of water, hooking it over the fire before sitting down with his brothers.

"So," Phil started, "who wants to start?" Silence. Phil waited a moment before clasping his hands together.

"Alright, Tommy, why don't you tell us what happened with Tubbo." He thought it would be better to start with this seeing as it would most likely be shorter, and Techno's story could be a bit of a distraction for the child. Tommy sighed but nodded, he was at a crossroad between being sad and determined.

"He basically said he didn't want to talk yet, but he would meet with me tomorrow to talk things out," Tommy paused, "It was weird, it felt like it wasn't even him. I just wish things would go back to normal," he sighed. Wilbur draped an arm over him, pulling him into a side hug.

"Are you going to go?" Phil asked. Tommy nodded vigorously without a second thought.

"I'm not going to give up on Tubbo, he's Tubbo. I can't do that," he said stubbornly. Phil smiled.

"Good, from what I've seen you two were almost inseparable it's a bit astounding to me that you two would have such a falling out in the first place." Phil smiled before continuing. "Alright then, the moment we've all been waiting for."

"Finally, I get to know why you were covered in blood yesterday," Tommy added. Techno groaned under the gazes of his brothers.

"Well, I guess it all started the day I was born, both of my parents failed to show up," he began.

"Techno," Phil said, warning in his voice.

"What?" Phil glared, "Fine," Techno restarted. "I don't remember much from before I was five, but I grew up with one person; my overseer. Ever since I was able to walk, I was being trained to kill."

The sun shined brightly over the mountain side; the blinding snow covered every inch of the land. A decent sized building sat a few yards away from the cliffside. A winding dirt path was the only safe way up or down. Chunks of snow would fall from the roof of the building every so often. A child is panting picking himself up off of the ground once again. He prepares his stance, and charges. The man he is fighting with is quick to react. Attacks and dodges were swapped, quick and clean. The boy didn't see it coming and lost his balance, falling into the snow below him.

"Again." The voice was deep, commanding. The boy did as he was told, getting off the ground once more. They repeated. Days, weeks, months passed. The boy was older now, around the age of five. The two stood outside again, stances ready, waiting for the first move. The child ran at the man quickly but controlled, a hit to the side. A block to his right. The dance was executed perfectly, and when it was finished the child had a knife to the man's throat. Victory.

"Do it again, the first time is always luck."

They did. Again, and again until the boy could no longer walk, and no longer lost. A week later he was assigned his first mission. The man sat the boy down at a table, both sitting rigid, tall, intimidating.

"You're being commissioned to kill the king. You will do so willingly, and you will not fail. Do you understand?" The man was short and to the point, giving the task to the child in front of him.

"Yes sir."

The boy was quick on his feet, racing up against the castle, he moved from spot to spot stealthily. The palace guards had yet to notice his presence. Quickly and carefully, he climbed up the back side of the castle, where no one could see him. It was dark, hard to see anything but he made due with the light of the moon to his back, he grabbed onto whatever piece of wall he could. The boy climbed through the window, he was in a large room, white sheets covered large objects; furniture most likely. He quickly navigated his way to the door before making it to the hallway. The corridor was long, decorated with gold and marble flooring. The walls were made of quartz, tapestries hung every few feet. Footsteps.

"He's such an asshole." A woman's voice.

"I know, but there isn't much we can do about it. He is the king after all." A reply.

"I just hope one day someone makes him pay for what he's done," the first woman sighed. The boy hid watching as two maids walked down the hallway, coming out of the biggest door at the very end. They were carrying a bag of wash and dirty dishes. The door they just came from was the most likely to be the king's bedroom, he made his way there quietly. The bed was the first thing he spotted, in it was the king himself; rolled over on his side, ready to sleep. A single candle rested on his nightstand giving off the only light in the room. The boy had to be quick, knowing there were guards not too far from here. In an instant he was a foot away, his sword would reach. With one swift swing, the kings head was being held by its hair, blood dripping onto the floor.

The boy quickly stuffed it in his bag before leaving the castle and going back to his overseer. He handed the head to him silently. The man inspected it thoroughly.

"You could have done better, had the cuts cleaner. Though, you have completed your mission." The boy nodded, accepting the criticism. From then on, he was asked to kill many others. Blood soaked his hands; he hated the feeling. It was disgusting, suffocating and that's when he realized what he was, what he needed to do.

"I don't want to kill anyone anymore; I know it's wrong but nothing inside of me tells me that it is. I think during that time, my overseer screwed something up in my morals. That's why I decided to come with you, I needed to experience what it was like outside of that place. To be human," Techno finished solemnly.

"Techno, you killed our fucking dad," Phil laughed.