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Chapter Text

Jester huffed, blowing a blue curl out of her face. She took another breath, pulling herself up over the wall with little grace. She managed to hook a leg over the top, biting her lip and squeaking as she almost fell on the large metal spikes adorning the top of the wall.

She balanced there for a moment, and then she swung the next leg over, hands sweaty around the large metal spikes. She looked down at the ground, muscles straining as she glared at the height of the wall she would now have to climb down. Hopefully, there would be more handholds going down then there were on the other side.

Jester carefully moved downward, hooking messy paint stained fingers and worn boots into whatever crack and crevice she could find in the polished stone. She nearly slipped, hissing furiously, “Stupid fucking wizards and their stupid extra fancy houses…”

Jester looked down again after a few moments and then grinned, letting go and falling the last few feet to the ground. She straightened from her crouch, brushing off the front of her petticoats and glancing around the orchard carefully. She adjusted her full to bursting satchel, glaring at the castle towering over the orchard in the far distance.

At long last her goal was within reach.

Jester crept forward, glancing between the trees, eyes wide. Spots of golden light sparkled, the leaves casting shadows as if they were their own light source. If the stories were true, their leaves were solid gold and silver. They certainly looked that way, all shiny and sparkly and pretty.

But time for that later.

Jester was not here for anything as drab as that.

She moved forward, counting quietly. The man and woman she’d asked had said that her goal was two hundred and fifty paces forward, straying neither to the right nor the left- at the exact center of the orchard. Jester glanced up at the trees again, catching sight of their heavy laden branches, their fruits dangling tantalizingly within her reach. The fruit glittered as much as the leaves, shining in deep jewel tones. In fact, they were jewels and precious gems. There were rich clusters of emeralds and rubies, sparkling sapphires and deep purple amethysts, shimmering topazes and diamonds reflecting back the light, almost too blinding to look at.

Jester shook herself. She was not here for them.

They looked so yummy though. Surely it wouldn’t help to pick a few? Just a little?

She stopped herself. She was here for mama. For that dick Lord Sharpe. She would not let that asshole win.

Jester stomped forward, pausing as she entered a clearing.

Her eyes widened as she saw the cage hanging from the tree. The bars were solid gold, encrusted with jewels, hanging from the tallest and oldest tree on the orchard, just as the tales had said. She was so close. Then she could get when she came for and, if she got out before sundown, she could vandalize the stupid wizard’s walls on her way out!

Jester hopped forward, seeing the bird, the object of her search shift within the cage. It was sleeping, head tucked into its wings. It… didn’t look anything like she imagined. It was brown and grey and dirty. Feathers were missing in large patches and from the long trailing tail feathers. But, well, there was only one bird in the Gilded Cage of the Golden Orchard. And as drab and boring as they were, she needed those feathers.

Three tail feathers from the last Phoenix.

She was so close.

A twig snapped under the heel of her boot.

The bird startled, wings flapping on reflex, hitting the bars of the cage instead. It squawked upon seeing her and Jester started forward, “Wait no! Shhh shh mister flaming bird! I’m not going to hurt you!”

The Phoenix slammed itself against the bars of the cage, opening its curved ebony beak to probably make more noise than was wise in a place she wasn’t supposed to be, “Wait! I’m just here to paint!”

The Phoenix, remarkably, paused, cocking its head as if her words had so confused it that it needed to stop and listen.

Jester laughed nervously and clasped her hands together. Even though it surely didn’t understand her speech, she found herself rambling anyway, “Um, I heard about how pretty this place was and I had to see it for myself you know? And of course, I wanted to paint the last Phoenix.” The bird really was terribly dull and ugly and mangy, it’s feather encrusted with dirt and refuse. She chewed on her lip, “Well, I hate to say this but you’re not at all what I expected. I thought phoenixes were supposed to look like I don’t know, fire? You’re… well, you know baths exist right?”

The Phoenix shifted on its stand, peering carefully at her before, astonishingly, speaking, “Excuse me? We have only just met.”

Jester blinked. The Phoenix stared back, nonplussed. She leaned forward, taking a hesitant step closer, “Did you just talk?”

The bird shuffled, sniffing daintily, “Nein. You are just finally losing your mind.”

Jester choked on a laugh, “You did!” She put her hands on her hips, “You are very funny, Mr. Phoenix you know that?”

The bird’s eyes narrowed as Jester stuck out her hand, taking the revelation in stride, “Well I am Jester!” She realized the bird could not shake her hand and took it back hastily, “There! We know each other now! And I’m telling you that you really need to take a bath. I can smell you from all the way over here you know.”

The bird really did glare this time, “How did you get in here?”

“I climbed the wall of course!”

The Phoenix craned his neck, “You climbed in? You’re not permitted to be in here?”

Jester scoffed, “Me? Allowed? Psh of course not! The stuffy old wizard wouldn’t even answer his stupid gate. Why would I waste time waiting for his wrinkly old ass when I could just climb on over?”

“You should leave then Fraülein Jester. The master of this house does not take kindly to trespassers.”

Jester snorted taking out her paints and easel, mostly because she just wanted to spite him, “Do you think I care about that guy? The least you can do is answer his door every once and awhile. In fact, I think I will carve dicks on his trees. What do you think of that?”

The bird choked, “Fräulein, you need to leave. You are in great danger.”

Jester raised an eyebrow pointedly still unpacking her bag, “You know, I don’t think I have enough shades of brown and gray to paint you.” She picked up her yellow, “I brought too many fire colors! Which far be it from me for thinking a Phoenix would be a firebird not a dirt bird.”

The Phoenix closed its mouth with an air of offense, “You know what, fräulein? Never mind. I’m sure you shall see what I mean when he comes.”

Jester hummed, eyeing him carefully, “Why do you keep calling me fräulein?” The word didn’t feel right in her mouth and, already knowing it wouldn’t come out right, she deliberately mangled it even further just to watch the irritation build in her new birdish companion, “I already told you my name is Jester.”

The Phoenix shuffled, back hunching, “I am ignoring you now. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He buried his head back under his wing, and she could see now that she was really looking that he was, in fact, mud encrusted.

She wrinkled her nose.

Gross.

Back to painting then.

She probably shouldn’t have called him ugly and dirty if she wanted those feathers. She supposed she could just go up and pluck them but he already had so little. Besides, she hadn’t thought it could talk. And he seemed to be grumpy and rude, but he wasn’t just a straight up asshole like Lord Sharpe. Maybe if she asked really really nicely he would give her his tail feathers?

Maybe she should wait until he was in a better mood.

She huffed, lips pursing as she dampened her brush. This was going to have to be a longer expedition than she’d originally thought, wasn’t it?

Jester pouted, but began her first layer of paint. Maybe by the time she finished her picture she would have them?

Unfortunately, she didn’t get very far before the sun began to set.

She had climbed the wall very late so she wasn’t surprised. Jester began packing up her stuff, announcing to the Phoenix who had remained pointedly asleep, “I shall be back again tomorrow to resume my painting.”

He didn’t respond and Jester frowned, “How about this? A painting as um, fancy," she wiggled her fingers to accompany that statement, in an attempt to make it seem more grand, "and detailed as this will probably take a long time. Give me three months and then I’ll be out of your hair. Er, feathers I mean.”

He still didn’t move and Jester shrugged, turning away to leave.

“If you must come back tomorrow,” Jester paused as he sighed heavily from behind her, “You must come back in the afternoon. Ikithon, the master of the house, is always away at that time.”

Jester eyed him thoughtfully before chirping, “Okay!” and bounding away.

Chapter Text

“Is it true that if you eat the fruit you turn into a statue?”

The Phoenix snorted, “No. That is a different type of magic. No, it’s more akin to eating acid. Your internal organs rot away and crumble to ash inside you, the body eventually following. The dust becomes fertilizer for the trees. It’s really quite efficient if you think about it.” 

Jester gaped at the bird who shrugged as well as he could, “I didn’t say that I condoned it-“ 

“Are you saying that I have been sitting on dead bodies this whole time?” 

The Phoenix blinked, “Well… probably.” 

“Oh ew gross ! That is nasty why didn’t you tell me?” 

The Phoenix snorted, “The topic had not come up. If I remember correctly you were the one who barged in here.” 

Jester shook out her skirts, “Yes but dead bodies! Yuck!” 

She picked up her easel, moving closer, “I’m going to sit here now and not over there. There are no fruits on your tree so no one has turned to dust here, right?”

The Phoenix stared at her, and now that she was closer she could see just how ratty his wings were and how the long tail that trailed down to the ground was worn and discolored, “No, there are not.” 

Jester nodded and sat down, beginning another layer.

She glanced up just once, catching him staring. As drab and dull as he was, the Phoenix had the brightest and most beautiful blue eyes that she had ever seen. 

“And he never knew what hit him! He told mama all about it, but you know, he didn’t know it was me so he couldn’t do anything. But mama thought it was so funny. And then he never came back again so that was a plus, you know?” 

“You are very clever, Jester.” 

Jester preened, “Well yes I am.”

“You could also have added ants. I should think that would’ve helped.” 

Jester blinked, eyes widening, “Wait- you’re right! I didn’t even think of that! I totally should have! Well next time I should do that Mr. Phoenix. I will add ants and then I will tell you all about it.” Her brows furrowed, brush stilling, “I think mama would’ve loved an idea like that.” 

The air seemed to have grown especially still. Jester really did miss her mother. It shouldn’t be long now though, should it? The Phoenix’s tail feathers were right there. Surely it wouldn’t hurt him if she were to reach out and grab some? 

His words interrupted her thoughts, almost clumsy in their haste, “You know, I have a name.”

Jester looked up, distracted, “What?”

“I have a name.” The bird bent it’s head downwards, “But I confess that it is a terrible name and I do not like it very much.” 

“Oh, well then you should give yourself a new one!” 

The Phoenix hummed, “I would, but I am not very good with making up names, ja? I am not very creative. Why don’t you make up a name?” 

Jester gaped, “Really? Me? But you barely know me! I could name you Sir Flutter Butter the Fifth! Or Sprinkle Toes McGee. Or Dickard P. Nis!” 

The Phoenix shuffled, stretching its wings out, hitting the bars of the cage before they were even half out, an air of resignation to him, “I place myself in your creative blue hands, fräulein. But I am partial to Sir Flutter Butter if you must.” 

Jester blinked with surprise. 

“I’ve decided on a name for you! It’s super nice I think but you know you will have to tell me if you like it because we can totally change it if you want too.” 

The Phoenix shuffled, shaking out his dull feathers, “That is not reassuring, but, please go ahead.” 

Jester grinned, “I practiced it in cursive like a hundred thousand times so it looks really good, by the way, in cursive. But anyway.” She held up her paintbrush, “I pronounce you Sir Caleb Widogast!” She added, “The sir is optional but I just liked the flavor it added.” 

The Phoenix eyed her, seemingly surprised that it had been something sensible. She could be sensible! Or at least sometimes she could be sensible, “I… I think I like it. And not one dick in it.”

Jester winked, “You say that now, but wait until you see the signature!” 

He choked on a laugh. 

“So why are you in a cage, Caleb?” 

The bird frowned, shifting on his perch, “I suppose because it’s safer this way.”

“Safer?” Jester scoffed, jabbing at her easel with more force than necessary, “Sure. It looks to me like you are just miserable.” 

Caleb sighed, “Jester, this is for the best.”

Jester snorted bitterly, “For who?”

The Phoenix eyed her carefully as Jester huffed, beginning again, “I mean, you look so uncomfortable in there Caleb. Don’t you want to be free? Don’t you want to fly? You are a bird aren’t you, Caleb? Shouldn’t you want to fly?” 

There was a heavy sigh and Jester glanced up, watching him avoid her eyes, “I do. I really do… I just… I suppose that you could say that I’m scared, Jester.” 

She blinked, “Oh.”

“I am a bit of a coward.” 

Jester’s eyes narrowed, “Well that’s just stupid. I think you are very smart and capable.” She chewed on her lip thoughtfully, “Look. You’ll come out of that cage when you’re good and ready Caleb. We all do things at our own pace. This is the same way.” 

Caleb blinked, “Do you think so?” 

She preened, “I know so, Caleb. Just you wait.”

Jester held up the sparkly gold paint, “And I bought this all new and nice just for the trees! It has glitter in it, Caleb look!”

Caleb nodded, something very soft in the bird’s tone, “I can see, Jester. It is very… ah very wunderbar .” 

“Aw, you think so?” Jester giggled, setting it down. Caleb eyed her easel, “You are almost done with it, I see.” 

Jester nodded happily, forgetting for a moment that finishing a painting was not what she was actually here for, “Yes! Just some sparkly trees and then you of course and then it will be finished!” 

Caleb cocked his head, blinking his eyes as he examined the half finished product, which was admittedly, very good, “Maybe you should leave me out of the picture. The orchard is very pretty. I would hate to ruin that.” 

Jester gasped with offense, “Why Caleb! You are the best thing in this stuffy old orchard!” 

At his look she scoffed, “I mean, it is funny, don’t you think, that this orchard is so pretty and so lovely and the gem fruit looks so yummy but it is all actually poisonous and fake and the trees are fed on the rot of the dead? And you, so out of place and dirty and ugly, and seemingly the most worthless in the whole place is actually the most precious?” 

Jester nodded, humming, “Because I think about that sometimes. So you have to be in the picture. That is the whole point of the picture after all. Plus you are my favorite thing here and my best friend. And besides, I want to tell my mama about you one day and I will need a picture to do that.” 

Jester did not look up and so, did not see how she had done the impossible and made a bird blush despite the feathers. 

Jester climbed over the fence, hardly a care in the world. It was so easy getting over it now that she knew Caleb was waiting for her. She clapped her hands excitedly. She wanted to tell him about the new brushes she had found. They had little kitties on the ends of their handles! She knew Caleb would love them, mostly because it had come up just a few days ago that he loved cats. She thought it was a little weird that a bird would like cats, but Caleb was a little weird so that was okay. She had been so excited, in fact, that she had started out first thing this morning. He must see them as soon as possible, so she could see his little eyes light up. 

Jester skipped along, bright and happy and full of warmth, “Caleb! I found these amazing brushes, you would not believe them-!” 

She froze with surprise. A very dirty man in the rattiest coat she had ever seen in her life, with burnished red hair so covered in grime it was almost brown, was standing in the clearing. Another man stood next to him, dressed in exceptionally fine red and black robes, wrinkles pulling down at his mouth, his long hair grey and faded. 

The gilded cage was empty and open, Caleb was gone. 

The old man clasped his hands at her appearance, “So you are the wretch who has been trespassing in my orchard and harassing my Phoenix.” 

Jester realized with a growing feeling of horror that, in her haste, she had forgotten completely. She had come before noon. For the first time in almost three months, since she had first met Caleb, she had ignored his warning. And now Trent Ikithon, the most powerful wizard in all the land stood, furious, before her. 

Chapter Text

Jester, thinking quickly, spoke, “I am not trespassing Ca- the Phoenix commissioned me to draw the orchard! I am- I am being paid to do this! And- and if you asked him you would know that’s the truth!” 

Jester glanced at the empty cage, “Ah, wherever is he anyway?” 

Ikithon turned to the ratty horrified looking man behind him, “Is this true?” 

The man blinked and Jester stared at him with confusion. He glanced from her to the man, and wait , she knew those eyes- “Ja, a picture of the orchard for your- your banquet hall, Master Ikithon.”

Jester stared with amazement, “ Caleb? ”

Ikithon frowned at her, “Caleb?”

The man, or the former phoenix or, Caleb, spoke, “Ah I’m- Jester is almost done and then she will be gone. She has not taken anything from you, I swear .” 

Ikithon raised an eyebrow, “You have allowed a visitor into the grounds without consulting me, Bren. If she has not taken the fruit, then you know what that means. She is here for your feathers, just like all the others.” 

Caleb shook his head, “It means nothing! She- she wouldn’t steal from you like that please, she is only a painter-“ 

“Is she?” 

Jester swallowed as Ikithon snorted, eyeing her as if she were beneath his notice. To be fair, she was pretty recognizable and she had left the capital with quite a lot of fanfare and Lord Sharpe’s angry shouting, “I would recognize her anywhere. That is Jester Lavorre, daughter of the courtier Marion Lavorre, the Ruby of the Sea.” 

Jester held up her hands, brows drawing down, “Look you big nasty windbag-“ 

“Bren, she was banished from her home months ago. The price for her return was three tail feathers from the last Phoenix. She’s using you, just like everyone else.” 

Caleb stared at her, pleading, “W- but that’s not- she wouldn’t- Jester…” his brows furrowed, “That’s not true, is it?”

Jester could feel tears along with frustration gathering, “Caleb- I- maybe he is telling a little bit of the truth and maybe I was here for that at first but I’m not anymore! I really like being your friend- I swear , Caleb! And I would never take anything without your permission! Please Caleb-“ 

She watched his face crumple, Ikithon’s hand on his shoulder, “Come now, Bren. What have I always said about this? It’s safer here. For the world and for you.” 

Jester frowned, something wrong with this, as if she were witnessing only half of a long conversation, “Wait, what? What’s going on here?” 

Caleb glanced between her and him, from behind his curtain of hair. Ikithon glared at her, “You’ve done enough damage , Lavorre. I suggest you leave and count yourself lucky that I’m letting you.” 

Jester took a step back, biting her lip. Caleb bowed his head, and, between one moment and the next, suddenly there was the familiar drab Phoenix she was so used too, perched on Ikithon’s outstretched arm. Ikithon cooed, “There we are Bren. It’s better this way, yes?” 

Something didn’t sit right about this, at all. 

Caleb spoke up, shuffling his feathers, “Wait, Master Ikithon.” 

Ikithon raised his brows. Caleb looked between her and him, before, the bird craned it’s head backwards. It almost looked like he was preening himself- but Caleb just didn’t do that. To her astonishment, as he turned around, she realized that he’d plucked three feathers from his tail. Caleb nodded at her and she took a careful step forward, disbelieving as the Phoenix dropped his feathers into her hands, Ikithon watching the exchange with strangely hungry eyes. 

She gaped as Caleb muttered quietly, “For wasting your time fräulein Lavorre.” 

Jester couldn’t help the way her voice cracked and broke, “Caleb I-” she looked from him to Ikithon, “I’m not leaving you alone. You are suspicious as shit Icky-thong.” 

Both Caleb and Ikithon startled at this, Caleb with confusion and worry, Ikithon with outrage, “Why do you have Caleb locked up in a fancy cage like an animal? Why- why won’t you let him out?” 

Caleb shook his head mutely, terrified, “It’s to keep me safe-“ 

“Safe from what? Keeping you miserable is more like it!” 

Ikithon sneered, “Fine. If you insist on knowing, Lavorre. Phoenix feathers can be used in my potions and spells, the most rare being an elixir of eternal life. As the last Phoenix, whoever possesses Bren would be able to live forever.”

“Oh so you can live forever?” 

Caleb shook his head slowly, “No. It only works if the feathers are given willingly. Master Ikithon has never once asked me for my feathers. Nor have I ever given him any.”

Ikithon lifted his chin imperiously, “Unlike you, my dear. So I suggest you leave. Before you upset him further.” 

Jester took a step back, “Caleb, please, something about this isn’t right.” 

Caleb wouldn’t look her in the eye, “He’s… right Jester. You should go home to your mother. I’m sure she misses you very much.” 

Jester’s lip wobbled but she did not let her tears fall, “Okay, Caleb. But… but I’ll come back.” She glared at Ikithon, “And I’ll bring my mother. She would love to meet you, Caleb.” 

She turned, clutching the three drab feathers to her chest, walking away. It was only when she left the clearing, out of sight of Caleb and Ikithon, that she let her tears fall. 

Jester heard a noise, the sound of feet in the grass, and she turned, glowering at Ikithon, who stood, looking remarkably perturbed, “Jester Lavorre.” 

Jester lifted her chin, sniffing and trying to compose herself with dignity, even though she knew she had tear tracks staining the soft curve of her cheeks, “What do you want?”

Ikithon held out his hand, back straight and lips turned downwards, “Give me the feathers and you may go peacefully.” 

Jester blinked, thinking of Caleb’s mud brown feathers that she’d placed carefully in her satchel next to her nearly finished painting, “Holy shit, you do want the feathers!”

Ikithon’s lips curled, “Obviously. But they are rightfully mine. I own the last Phoenix. Those feathers should have been given to me. Now hand them over.” 

Jester took a step back, “You’re… you’re lying to him.” 

Ikithon snorted, “Of course I am. However, even Phoenixes die eventually and Bren is not long for this world. Those very well might be the last feathers he ever hands out. Now give them to me or I shall make you and your mother regret having ever crossed me.” 

Jester swallowed at the mention of her mother, “I won’t be able to see her if I give you these.” 

Ikithon inclined his head, “I will take care of Lord Sharpe. If you give me Bren’s feathers. Everyone will get what they want. But only if you do as I say.” 

Jester nodded hesitantly, reaching into her bag carefully. She laughed nervously, “Hang on, sorry there is just so much stuff in here.” She reached in with the other hand, digging around. Ikithon huffed under his breath with annoyance, “Idiot girl…” 

Jester shouted, “Ah ha! Here it is!” She reached up and, before he could react, threw her container of glittery gold paint at him. It smacked into his head with a sharp thwack and he fell with a garbled shout of pain and surprise. 

Jester laughed, “Ha! That was for Caleb!” 

She turned and ran back up the path, nearly falling over herself in her haste. She did not have time to waste. Not with the greatest mage of the century on her heels, “Caleb! Caleb!” 

She grabbed the next jar of paint that she could find, unscrewing the lid as she ran. There was a growl of frustration from behind her, a flash of light and Jester yelped, dodging whatever that magic had been. She glanced back, “Hey Dickithon!” He stumbled out of the treeline just in time to get a jar of open paint in his face. 

She was already running again before she even heard his howl of rage. 

She stumbled into the orchard’s center, Caleb staring at her from the confines of his gilded cage, “Jester? Wh- what have you done?” 

She darted forward, grabbing at the bars of the cage, “Ikithon is using you Caleb! He doesn’t care about you or- or about keeping the world safe! He wants your feathers for himself! You’re letting him keep you captive when you could be free , Caleb. You could go and- and fly again.” 

She pulled at the bars, “Ugh this stupid lock-“ 

“Jester, it is not safe for you to be here-“

“Wait I’ve got it!” She strained, pulling at the bars, teeth gritted, muscles straining and, with a painful creak and groan, the golden bars moved . Caleb gaped, cocking his head, beak gleaming in the sunlight, “ Schiesse, Jester-“ 

She grinned, winking, “I know, I am very strong.”  

She bent the bars, further, finally holding her arm out when she deemed it wide enough for him to come through, hair sweaty from the strain, sticking to her neck in wet dark ringlets, “Here, I can help you down. But we had better hurry. Icky-thong will not be gone long.” 

Caleb looked from her to his cage, the world waiting, “Jester I’m not- Jester I cannot… I am… I am scared.” 

She grinned, “Everyone is scared Caleb. Even me and I know that’s really hard to believe but it’s true. The only thing is what you choose to do with that fear. You can totally stay. But Ikithon does not want to take care of you. There are better things out there. All you need to do is take a step and I will be there to help you the rest of the way, if you want it.”

Caleb studied her for a moment, blue eyes glittering, more lovely than the entirety of Ikithon’s poisonous orchard. After one seemingly eternal moment, he took a step, dull claws poking her skin as he delicately stepped out of the cage and onto her arm, towards freedom, his voice fragile, “Danke, Jester.” 

She smiled, feeling something so full swell up in her.

Which was of course when Ikithon found them again. 

There was a flash and Ikithon stood, front covered in a particularly awful shade of fuchsia paint, “You! Put down my bird!” 

His hands glowed as he moved them, intricate circles of green and blue, their color sharpening, burning black. Jester yelped, Caleb squawked, flapping his wings as Ikithon released his spell. 

The world turned to smoke and an explosion of darkness and light blew her backwards. 

Jester rolled, the world spinning, ears ringing as the sky faded in and out. She couldn’t seem to suck in any air. She lay there, gasping, like a fish out of water as she rolled to her elbows, grass in her hair. 

She gasped, coughing, and waving her hand, finally sucking a breath inwards. She pushed herself upwards, squinting as she noticed the gray ash falling from the sky. 

Jester stumbled to her feet, glancing around. The area immediately surrounding them had flattened a good deal of the orchard trees. The gilded cage was burnt and twisted, the tree it hung from splintered. 

Jester stepped forwards, wincing as her ribs protested at the movement, “Caleb?” 

She could see a blurry shape on the ground, through the gray sky. She glared, realizing that it was Ikithon, still crumpled from where he’d stood, slowly shifting and obviously still alive.

She needed to find Caleb before he woke up and tried to kill them again. 

It sure was lucky that whatever spell he’d cast had missed them. Super cool mage? Right, sure. As if . 

Jester turned, eyes widening as she finally saw Caleb. She brightened, “Oh Caleb! Thank the traveler! I was so afraid something had happened but I guess Icky-thong isn’t all he’s cracked up to be huh?” 

She frowned, starting forward, kneeling beside the crumpled body of the dirty Phoenix. It didn’t look right. It was smaller than she remembered, “...Caleb?”

She reached out, hesitant. As soon as her fingers touched the feathers, they crumbled into ash, a small pile of gray dust and feathers. 

Jester blinked, drawing backwards as if she’d been burned, “Wha- what?”

She glanced around, “Caleb? Caleb what- this isn’t funny!” 

She heard a curse from behind her and turned, Ikithon standing over them both, holding his arm, significantly less composed than earlier, his lips curling up into a snarl, “Foolish fucking bird.” 

“What? What’s happened?” 

Ikithon shifted, snapping at her, “Don’t you know? He shielded you from the worst of it. And now, the last Phoenix is dead.”

Her brows furrowed, “But- but they can’t die, can they?”

Ikithon scoffed, “They can’t, usually. But Bren had no will to live. He’s been dying for some time, if you hadn’t noticed from the pathetic state of him.” He sighed, straightening himself, “At least I can still get what I needed. Give me his feathers.” 

Jester glanced from to the pile of dust, all that remained of her friend, “You- he’s dead and you don’t even care do you?” 

Ikithon glared, looking more worn and tired than he had any right to be, “Give me the feathers, Jester Lavorre.” 

Jester blinked back hopeless tears. She sniffed, reaching into her bag and pulling out the bedraggled brown remnants of her friend. Her brows furrowed, “You know what?” 

She stared up at Ikithon, fury filling her, “Caleb was the greatest treasure in your entire shitty death garden. Not for his feathers, not for how you could use him, but for who he was! He was super smart and nice. He was so kind and he told me the best spot to paint a giant dick on your wall. So fuck you, Trent Ikithon.” 

She tore the feathers in half and then again and again- Ikithon started forward, horrified, “No, what the fuck are you doing- ?”

He grabbed her wrists, shaking her, the last remaining pieces of the feathers falling to the ground. He let go as soon as he saw them, diving after the pieces, frantic, “No! No, no, no-”

Ikithon turned to her, hissing, “Do you know what you’ve done you foolish girl? You’ve just ruined all our chances! You will die in the most painful of ways, your mother will pay for everything you’ve done. You cannot possibly know the depths of-“ 

Jester interrupted, pointing, “There’s a feather over there.”

He turned, eyes wild, hands shaking. 

Jester watched him scramble on the ground with disgust, “You never deserved Caleb.” 

Ikithon turned back, realizing she had said that to distract him, “And that’s another thing. His name was Bren Aldric Ermendrud. Not Caleb, do you understand me? His parents died, and he was born out of their ashes. So I took him and named him and kept him safe for so fucking long. His name was Bren and he was mine . And you may think you’ve won, but you haven’t. He was mine, all the way up to his death.” 

He held out his fistful of tattered feather pieces, ash coating his fingers, “You are nothing and no one . Just as he was, in the end.” 

Jester glared at him, lips curling with fury, “You bitter old assho-“ she paused, glancing back down at the feathers. Ikithon frowned, following her gaze. 

Instead of pieces of bedraggled brown and fading gray, what glittered in his hands were the remnants of feathers of pure glowing gold. 

Ikithon blinked, “... What? ” 

Jester whirled, eyes wide with wonder, staring at the ash pile, heart in her throat. The pile was glowing, faintly, and then, as she watched- brighter and brighter. A wind picked up as Jester scrambled to her feet and Ikithon gaped, “No- no that’s impossible!” 

The air smelled of smoke and fire, the ash swirling, the world blooming red and gold and orange, shining bright. Ikithon looked away, shielding his eyes from the brightness, shouting. Jester stared, laughing, dress flapping, hair whipped away by the wind. 

For a moment, she saw a shadow of a bird and heard its cry, great and magnificent, wings fully outstretched and feathers aflame, a long tail, burning with the light of the sun, glittering blue eyes staring back at her. The light shrunk and changed and a man blinked in the sunlight and the ash, clean and new, still wearing the clothes of a beggar. His freckles glimmered like drops of sun, his eyes the color of a clear blue sky, hair a burnished orange and red, glowing like pure daylight. 

He stared at her, and then, asked, breathless, “Jester?”

She clapped her hands, “Caleb! You- you’re not dead-“ she threw herself forwards, wrapping her hands around him and she really couldn’t help the tears this time, “I thought you had died and I was so sad Caleb and it was so scary- please don’t ever do that again-“ 

He blinked, “Jester I- I am- I should not be here-“ 

Jester cupped his face in her hands, “Caleb, you left your cage- you did it!”

His eyes softened, placing his hands over her own and then, “Bren!” 

They both glanced up, Jester’s joy dampened by the reminder that Ikithon still lived, “Bren, you are alive . How wonderful. Please, come away-“ 

Caleb frowned, “Bren is dead, Trent Ikithon.” 

Ikithon stared, gaping at the Phoenix, “My name is Caleb Widogast.” 

Ikithon’s face contorted with rage, his hands already twitching, preparing another spell, “If that is how it must be, Caleb.” 

Caleb put a hand on Jester’s shoulder, “I believe I must ask you to look away, Jester, if only for a moment. Whatever you do, do not turn around.” 

She nodded, closing her eyes, “I trust you Caleb.” 

There was a soft kiss to her forehead and then a whisper of wind. She put her hands over her eyes, waiting and then, a light so bright that the back of her eyes lit up white. She kept them closed, waiting and then a scream- the cry of a bird, the heat of a fire-

She stood, frozen, with bated breath. 

There was a hand on her shoulder and Caleb spoke, “You can turn around now.” 

He stood, quiet and small, behind him there was no trace of Ikithon, only burnt grass and scattered ash. He coughed quietly and held out his hand, upon which lay three yellow-orange feathers, shimmering in the sunlight, almost seeming to be aflame, “So that you can get your mother back.” 

Jester took his hand, clasping them over the feathers, intertwining their fingers, “I think… That my mama would love to meet you. You should come with me!” 

Caleb brightened, akin to the dawn, sunlight incarnate- except, she found, he was better and far more beautiful than the sun. 

Jester couldn’t help but kiss him for it. 

Caleb kissed her back.