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Zedaph is wandering through the shopping district, enjoying the view of all the buildings together. He planned to go to Aque Town today, to see what all the hype was about, but on his way there he spots someone underneath Mount Scarmore.
“Oh! Hey there Xisuma!” Zedaph greets him once he sees who it is. He walks closer to potentially strike up a conversation, when he sees that Xisuma’s suit appears to be... shifting between different animals?
The usually yellow suit, themed after a bee, is now changing from animal to animal, bug wings making place for extra limbs, antennae turning into horns, and the armour plates changing colours like a sheep named jeb_. Xisuma tries to wave with a hand that turns from a flipper into something clawed, but Zedaph’s worry only grows when Xisuma falters and then falls to the ground.
Zedaph couldn’t catch him in time from this far, but he races up to Xisuma’s crumpled form. He helps Xisuma sit up again, holding the majority of his weight in his arms. He brushes away some sand from his helmet, trying to see Xisuma’s eyes, but his visor appears completely empty.
“Xisuma? Are you okay?” Zedaph asks. His suit is still shifting between different animals. Zedaph can recognize some parts of a mooshroom appearing before they turn into something more bird-like. He’s never seen some of these variations in Xisuma’s suit before, and he isn’t sure if that should worry him or not.
Xisuma doesn’t answer, however, which spikes Zedaph’s worry through the metaphorical roof. He... he can’t just leave his admin on the ground like this, can he? He should take him somewhere, somewhere safe.
Zedaph’s gaze falls upon the nearby Town Hall. Perfect! Zedaph shifts his weight and then clumsily lifts Xisuma onto his back, holding on extra tight as Xisuma doesn’t seem to clasp his arms around Zedaph’s shoulders like he expected him to.
And so Zedaph practically drags his admin over to the large building. At least Xisuma isn’t fully unconscious, as he keeps making noises, even if they don’t really form words. They’re more like... buzzes and hisses and the occasional growl. Zedaph isn’t sure what’s going on and he doubts he’s going to become much wiser if he doesn’t do something, though, so he keeps dragging Xisuma’s heavy body that is steadily (and worryingly) becoming lighter up the stairs and onto one of the beds inside of the Town Hall.
Xisuma flops over onto the bed, and Zedaph pats his shoulder awkwardly.
“Hey, it’s okay, Xisuma,” Zedaph pants from the effort he put himself through. “You’re inside, it’s safe now.”
The rapid shifting between animal features seems to slow down a bit. Zedaph catches his breath, sitting down next to Xisuma’s strangely floppy form.
He grabs Xisuma’s hand and squeezes it to reassure him, but then notices just how much give it has.
That... that doesn’t seem right.
Zedaph tries to get Xisuma to talk again, speaking to him in a calming voice. He isn’t sure if what he’s doing is the right thing, if he’s honest. Maybe he should get help from a more experienced hermit?
But then Xisuma makes a noise that sounds vaguely human, and Zedaph perks up.
“X! Are you okay? What’s going on?”
The shapeshifting has nearly completely stopped by now. Xisuma is still donning a bee’s antennae and his boots look more like wolf paws, but they quickly revert back into his regular green and grey suit.
“...Zedaph?” Xisuma’s voice is a little shaky, but at least he can still talk.
“Are you okay?” Zedaph asks again. “Do I need to get someone? Is there an emergency shulker somewhere nearby? Do you need to take your helmet off for safety?”
Xisuma shifts around on the bed, raising his head to look up.
“You want me to decapitate myself?” he says.
Zedaph helps Xisuma to sit upright, leaning against the wall behind him. Xisuma must be a little loopy, for him to say such things, and Zedaph chuckles a bit.
“What do you mean by that?” he decides to entertain his admin who may or may not have a concussion.
“Actually, it might be nice to have some fresh air flowin’ through,” Xisuma says, and unclasps his helmet. Some dark sand falls down when he takes his helmet off.
Slowly he places his helmet on the crafting bench to the side of the bed, and when Zedaph looks at where he expects Xisuma’s face to be, he is rendered speechless.
He wasn’t sure what he imagined Xisuma to look like.
But he isn’t sure if this is any better.
There’s nothing. Nothing behind his helmet. Zedaph dares to peek inside of the suit and finds it just as empty as the helmet itself.
Is he invisible? Wait- no, Xisuma is sticking his own arm inside of the suit itself. There’s nothing. He-
Xisuma’s body flops back, leaning onto Zedaph now.
“Oh! Sorry about that,” Xisuma says. Zedaph is all too aware of the fact that his voice came from the helmet itself, off to the side.
“It appears I’ve lost a lot of sand, so I’m not exactly in control of my suit like normal, I do apologize.”
“....Xisuma?” Zedaph asks.
“Yeah?”
“Is this a joke?”
“Now I know that me flying into a wall seems quite comical, but-”
“You’re... you’re empty!” Zedaph exclaims.
Xisuma chuckles at that, and Zedaph finds himself laughing along with how contagious it always sounds.
“That’s exactly the problem,” Xisuma’s helmet says. “I haven’t lost enough sand to respawn, but too much to really function properly. Mind helping me out?”
“...Sand?” Zedaph looks at the dark particles that litter the floor. If he looks back he can see a sort of trail of sand from where he dragged Xisuma over from outside, too.
“Soul sand,” Xisuma clarifies. “I’ve run on different kinds of magic before, but soul magic is infinitely more durable, I’ve found over the years.”
He lifts up a leg and Zedaph sees the cut in the ankle of his armour suit. “Yeah, that’ll do it. Usually I tear in my shoulder or one of my hands. You don’t lose as much sand as you do in your leg.” Xisuma's armour- his headless body flops back down onto the bed, a little more sand slowly spilling out of the ‘wound’.
Zedaph has about a million questions racing through him, but settles on, “Is there any way I can help?”
“I...” Xisuma tries to sit upright, but in the process only loses more soul sand and lets himself fall back down on the bed. Zedaph isn’t sure if he should look at where he expects Xisuma’s head to be when he talks, or if he should look at the helmet. ...Or is that his actual head? Oh god, who knew that finding out that your admin is a sentient suit of armour would bring so many complications with it?
“If it isn’t too much to ask,” Xisuma’s voice sounds. “I don’t fancy dying and respawning, could you patch up my leg?”
“Of course! No problem!”
Zedaph carefully lifts Xisuma’s leg... his boot? His foot? to inspect the damage. It looks like the leather in the joint there is torn. Probably just worn and old. Age tends to not be kind to many things in this world, it seems.
“Looks like the leather is just... old,” Zedaph says, and he can hear Xisuma sigh.
“Something wrong? It’s nothing a little repair can’t fix!”
“Oh, no, I’m fine, yeah,” Xisuma says. “I should probably have check-ups for this sort of thing more often.”
“Does this happen a lot?” Zedaph asks. “Losing... soul sand?”
“It happens sometimes. Mostly due to arrows or swords, you know? Never due to old age.”
“Huh, you learn something new every day,” Zedaph says as he looks at the helmet still on the crafting bench.
“Right. Let me go borrow some leather from a nearby shop. Be right back!”
True to his word, Zedaph returns a few minutes later with some borrowed leather, and he gets to work repairing Xisuma’s suit. His... body? Is this a repair job, or is it actual surgery?
Either way, Zedaph makes sure to work quickly but diligently, removing the old leather and working around the heap of sand continuing to spill out. When he’s done he checks the armour one more time to make sure, and then looks up at Xisuma’s helmet.
“There we go, all done!” he says. “Do you think you can get up?”
“I can try,” Xisuma says, and though his body is moving again, it isn’t much. He flops back down with a groan, the bed now covered in grains of sand.
Xisuma is... he really is just a suit of armour, huh. Zedaph would never ever have guessed. And to think that he is what he is because he’s powered by the magic present in soul sand, of all things! What a wonderfully strange world he lives in.
“You know...” Zedaph begins. “I’ve heard of the saying ‘the clothes make the man’, but I’ve never felt the need to take it literally before,” he jokes.
“Heh, good one,” Xisuma laughs weakly, his armour briefly shifting into something that could be called a strider-inspired creature before changing back again.
Xisuma attempts to sit up again, but flops over still. He did lose quite a bit of sand from the whole ordeal. Should he...
“Do you need me to get you some more soul sand?” Zedaph offers.
Xisuma tries to raise his arms but they’re almost completely empty so they don’t go far.
“I... I should be okay now, just give me a moment-”
“Not a moment!” Zedaph interrupts. “Hermits could fly into the town hall at any moment! They’ll see you!”
“That’s okay, honestly, I haven’t exactly been trying to keep this a secret,” Xisuma says.
“Still, I insist. Think about it, some fresh sand! Might be good for your old soul!”
Xisuma laughs. “You’re right, yeah. If you would?”
“Don’t you worry, I’ve got this!” Even if the Nether still scares Zedaph a little, it’s nothing he wouldn't brave for his friends.
“Alright.” Zedaph jumps up from the bed. “I’m going to get you your soul sand! ...How much do you need?”
“Just a couple of blocks should be fine. Get a little more just in case.”
“Aye aye!” Zedaph salutes Xisuma. “Don’t move, I’ll be back in a tick!” And with that Zedaph runs down the stairs, turns on his heels, and disappears into the swirly purple portal.
Zedaph returns a little while later with slightly singed hair and a flushed red face. He checks again if Xisuma’s suit (or Xisuma himself? It’s still a little weird to him) is all patched up and ready to go, and then after getting the OK he begins to pour the sand into the suit.
“All the way to the top?” Zedaph asks.
“Just under where my shoulders are,” Xisuma hums.
And so Zedaph does exactly that. He fills Xisuma’s eerily empty suit up with sand, blinking the particles out of his eyes as they float up, making sure not to actually inhale any of it. He doesn’t fancy getting a sneezing fit complete with temporary voices inside his head after everything he went through today already.
“Alright! There we go, one admin filled up with soul sand!”
Zedaph watches as Xisuma reaches out for his helmet (head?) by himself and puts it on. His movements seem a lot more coordinated and less... less floppy overall. The helmet clicks shut and a small hiss tells him that it’s locked in place again.
Xisuma rolls his shoulders back and gets up from the bed. He turns to Zedaph with his arms spread wide, as if to say ‘ta dah!’.
Zedaph claps, if only because he doesn’t know what else to do or say. Something about Xisuma’s appearance still doesn’t seem normal-
"Where are your eyes?” Zedaph notes. “I swear you had eyes behind that visor of yours before, right? Or is that a trick too?”
"Oh! The eyes!" Xisuma's voice sounds. "Of course!"
Xisuma’s eyes appear again, and now that Zedaph looks closer (he’s never really interacted with the admin much, much less stared into his eyes for a prolonged time) he can see that they are actually two small flames.
Soul flames, Zedaph realizes.
Xisuma wiggles his fingers and pats himself down. He looks... fuller, for a lack of a better word to describe it. Like an actual person could be inside. Which both makes sense and does not, knowing that the suit is actually full of sand, and not a person.
“Ah, that’s much better!” Xisuma says. “Thank you very much, Zedaph, I feel like a different person!”
He pats Zedaph on his shoulder, and Zedaph can’t help but be reminded of the empty feeling of his gloves before.
“...No problem, man! Just helping out wherever I can!” Zedaph smiles.
He watches as Xisuma’s suit morphs back into its bee variant, gives a wave, and walks out of the Town Hall, buzzing happily about all the flowers he still needs to tend to.