Archive of Our Own

Wilbur was forced to watch as dad stood up. The footsteps were closer. Far too close. Dad mouthed to them telling them to get away when the coast was clear. He was going to distract the hunters for them. He was going to get himself killed, and it was Wil's fault. He knew his dad would be strong enough to get away on his own and Tommy wasn't even Elytrian so he was fine on principle, but Wilbur wasn't either of those things.

Dad crept away, around to a different side, so that he drew the hunters away from Wil and Tommy. He would have gone after dad or pulled him back down or ran with him but Tommy's hand was firm on his arm and more than that, it was shaking. Tommy was scared. Scared of losing them, both of them.

So Wil fought back the bile in his throat as he heard movement and the sounds of retreating footsteps and distant yelling. He pulled Tommy up after a second. They had no clue how much time dad would buy them so they needed to leave. Wil and Tommy ran until there was a clearing. Then in a moment mimicking flights from their childhood, Wilbur took off. Tommy dangled below him, hands tightly clenched around Wilbur's wrist.

Wil hated flying in the rain but he missed it now. It would have provided an excuse for the small droplets falling to the earth and the small pools clouding his vision. He isn't sure how far they flew but when he landed he knew it wasn't enough. It would never be enough, not when nowhere was safe for him. "God fucking damn it. Why did it have to be dad?" Angry tears burned at his eyes. Dad was dead there was no way dad wasn't dead. “Why? Why the fuck did it have to be Dad. Why the hell did he fucking do that when we could have all gotten away. Why are they even hunting us in the first place? Why won’t they fucking give it up already damnit.” Because dad cared about them, maybe too much, because they couldn’t have all gotten away they would have all died, because they were scared of their magic of what they could do, because people were greedy and as sick and twisted as it was they could earn money off of their death. Every feather stood on end as he seethed firey hot sorrow.

He caught his wings, his feathers, in his periphery. His wings, the shiny blue silver color had always been his pride. His parents had loved these feathers. He stroked them gently. They were like a tag, a brand marking him as the hated Elytrian he was. So what if he got rid of them. If things got bad again he and Tommy would be dragged down. He needed to keep Tommy safe since he was the only reason he hadn’t run after dad. All he had to do was chop them off.

“Tommy, I want you to cut off my wings.” Wilbur didn’t care about Elytria anymore, and even though dad would say this is a death worse than death, Wilbur had already died then. He had died when those hunters took away his father.

“What, no. Wil, I won’t do that. They’re your wings.” Tommy cared more than he did, Tommy didn’t want to take away something everyone in the family had loved. He was scared and Wil didn’t care. He didn’t care what taboo was broken, didn't care what sin it would be, what sort of karma he would receive; he had already received that karma tenfold.

“Tommy I’m not fucking around. They want to hunt an Elytrian we’ll get rid of what makes me fucking Elytrian. They’ll leave us alone, we can live our own life without fear of being hunted and killed.” Tommy was shaking but so was Wilbur, emotions were high, and he was done pretending things were okay. Things weren’t ever going to be okay unless he did something, and that something was this. He pulls out the sword at his hip. The one dad had taught him to use.

“Wil I can't” he can, he is physically capable, he’s always been quicker to fight than Wil, he could do it but he wouldn't. That was the difference. Tommy wouldn’t but if he wouldn’t, Wilbur would. Nothing could hurt more than losing dad. Not even the pain of losing his wings.

“Tommy I’m going to cut them off if you won’t.” because he would, it would just be slower, harder to get the right angle but he would do it.

“Wil please I can’t. I can’t Wil, I can’t.” Tommy was crying, but so was Wilbur and he wasn’t sure what emotion it was from. Fear, anger, sorrow, who knew and who cared.

Wil knew there was nothing he could say to convince Tommy to do anything as big as this. But actions spoke louder than words, and Wil was about to scream. He kneeled knowing it was going to be the only way he could do this. He places his right hand on the top of his wing holding it. He raises the sword over his shoulder and places it against his wing as close to his back as he dared. And then he applied pressure. He bit his lips in pain as he starts sliding the sword back and forth. It hurts so goddamn much but dammit these damned wings were coming off one way or another.

“Wil stop.” Tommy barely whispers. “Please stop Wil. Wil stop” he shouts.

Wilbur feels pain radiating from his sword, He puts a little more pressure on his wings and wants to cry but he is already crying so nothing changes. “Tommy they are coming off one way or another.” He slides the sword across his wings again like the bow of a violin against strings slowly cutting through the instrument. “Either you do it or I do.” His voice hurts with each word and each pass of the blade. Tommy walks over to him grabbing his left hand and stopping the movement of the blade. Wil only realized how much his hands had been shaking when Tommy had stopped them from moving and the spasms traveled up his arm.

Tommy pulls the blade from his hand and Wil doesn’t have the strength to fight him and he has a feeling Tommy knows that it would only delay Wilbur. He knows that Tommy is taking the sword to finish what Wil had started. Wil wraps his hands around his arms the blood staining his yellow sleeves as he digs his fingers into the fabric and his skin underneath. Tommy hesitates too long. “Do it Tommy.” his voice feels raw and painful in his own throat. So it comes out quiet, maybe Tommy hears it maybe he doesn’t but it doesn’t matter as two seconds later the sword hits his wing and it is the worst physical pain Wil has ever felt. Worse than the time he broke his leg when he crash-landed when he was four.

He screamed however much he tried not to. It was just a reaction, he could feel blood well up beneath his fingers as it slowly streamed down his arm. He heard the thump as his wing hit the earth. He feels lopsided. His breath is harsh as he takes in the air he lost while screaming. It hurts but it’s distracting from the truth that he and Tommy were on their own.

It’s quiet for a moment. Too long, Tommy is having second thoughts halfway through. What was the point in that now? He couldn’t fly with one wing missing. His balance would be completely one-sided, and he’d still be identified as Elytrian. He wanted his wings gone. He swallows trying to ease his dry throat. “Tommy, just do it.” The pain is terrible but it doesn’t matter anymore he needs his wings gone. The sword hits and Wil screams again. This was never something he was supposed to experience, he knew that. It wasn’t even something people considered doing. And if it was, he is sure this pain would discourage anyone, and if like him someone saw it through this pain was their punishment. It’s quicker this time, or maybe he just got lost in the pain and time ceased to make sense. But it seems sooner that he hears the thump of his second wing hit the ground and he feels his balance return feeling lighter in body and heavier in spirit. His voice and throat are shredded to ribbons, his arms ache with the small bleeding wounds he caused. His entire body feels destroyed. His body is shaking and he has never felt so cold in his life.

He hears what he assumes is his blade, fall out of Tommy's hands. He slips a small bag off his shoulders and pulls out a roll of bandages. Wilbur feels Tommy pull at his shirt so Wilbur does his best to help. His trembling hands though are barely any assistance. Wilbur feels numb now that there is nothing left. No anger or sadness, nothing he can direct his feelings at. His voice is gone and his thoughts are a haze as he looks at his wings. They need to do something with them. They should bury them out of respect. But Wilbur was done with the respect that had not done anything but hurt him. They needed supplies, needed money.

He knows Tommy won't like it but they should sell them. That way they might be able to settle down and live a life. He knows that logic would say sell them but Tommy was always one to turn away from logic for emotion and instinct. Not that Tommy didn't listen to reason but that it was usually the least persuasive when it came to decision-making.

Somewhere along the line, Tommy finished bandaging Wil's back. Somewhere along the line, they sat there in grim silence. Somewhere along the line, Tommy whispered apologies to a dead person.

Tommy hadn't cried much in his life or at least very few times he'd openly admit. And if this whole thing wasn't such a hushed topic Tommy would admit he broke a little today. Phil was gone, most likely dead. Wil was giving up, and Tommy Tommy didn't want to lose the one person he had always had by his side. For that reason he'd push away the part of him that broke, he'd be the bigger man, see them through and make sure Phil wouldn't die in vain.

Wil was still kneeling on the ground. He was shaking so much. Tommy looked at his own hands and found that he wasn't much better. He looked at the wings. Broken lifeless and stained red. He had loved Wil's wings, they were such a pretty color. And more than that they were safe and he had just destroyed that. He clutched the pendant hanging around his neck tucked under his shirt. Three feathers, one from mum, one from Phil, and one from the wings he had just destroyed. His throat felt thick and his stomach was churning. He was fighting back throwing up and he knew it but God damn it he would win.

Wil's sword still lay on the grass dripping with his own blood. He reached for it. He's pretty sure he knows where the spring is. He needs to wash it. He needs to get Wil away. He needs to make sure Wil can lay down and recover.

Tommy tries to say something but his mouth betrays him as he says nothing. He forces it to obey, "Wil we should get someplace safe for the night and set up camp."

Wil says something but it's too quiet for Tommy to hear. Tommy gets closer, "what was that Wil?"

Wil grabs his hand and pulls him down so he can say what he wants into his ear. "I want to sell them, Tommy."

"What? No." Tommy's voice cracks and his stomach churns more. His voice breaks as he continues, "you can't, they're…."

Wil shakes his head. "They're my wings Tommy and I want to sell them."

"But Wilby- bur. Wilbur."

Wilbur grabs Tommy's hand and shakes his head again his voice being too broken to say another word.

"Please don't do this Wilbur. Please."

Wilbur just looks at Tommy with an unwavering gaze. His mind was set he was going to sell his wings for money and there was nothing Tommy could do. Wilbur reaches out for his sword sheathing it. He grabs his right wing with trembling fingers but they steady ever so slightly when he holds the wing against his chest staining his shirt even more. He stood with a stumble but steadied out on his feet. He looked at Tommy.

Tommy could do nothing but stare. Wilbur tilted his head toward his left wing. Tommy closed his eyes before he walked over to grab the left wing. He hesitated before picking it up. It was lighter than he was expecting it to be for how heavy it weighed on his heart.

Wilbur led the way with stumbling steps. If Tommy wasn't going numb he might have tried to catch Wilbur even with his hands full with the consequences of his action.

Wil finally stopped in a little clearing letting his wing fall to the ground in an unceremonious heap. Wil moved to grab some branches and twigs for a fire. Tommy stared at red wings. They weren't red Tommy reminded himself they weren't red they were silvery blue. They were the color of the sky, not... not this. Not crimson.

Tommy walked over to where Wil had dropped it and Tommy set it down, careful not to upset any feathers. He walked over to Wil. He placed a hand on Wil's arm. Wil turned to him. "The sword. I saw a stream. I'll clean it." Wilbur nodded removing his sheath and handing it to Tommy. Tommy took it and walked away dropping his backpack to the ground as he left Wil alone. Tommy didn't want to look at him like that again even though he knew he would have to. Because Wil wasn't getting his wings back. He would be without them for the rest of his life. And that blood was on Tommy's hand.

The walk is a blur, his thoughts a haze. He reaches the stream and he stares at the rushing water. It's pale blue waters and the sun casting silver threads across its surface. He would be painting it red just like Wil. He pulls the blade out and places the blade in the stream, the flow of the river pulling the red off the blade in wisps.

Tommy looked to the sky wondering if maybe he would see black feathers. He didn’t. What were the chances Phil was still alive? What were the chances that they would find each other again? It would take divine intervention. And Tommy knew better than to expect that.

The gods had forsaken the Elytrians. Not even Evgenís stood by their side.

The sword was clean of blood. It had been for a while. Tommy pulled it out and wiped it along his shirt removing the excess water. Tommy kneels there. Sword in his hand sheath in his other. He was so tired. He stared at that stream. Stared trying hard to imagine a world where people didn’t attack Elytria. Mum and Phil would still be here. He would get to watch Wilbur study and get a job, maybe he would have gotten a job of his own or maybe he would choose to travel, the way he had intended to when Phil had first taken him in. But that wasn’t the world he lived in. The world he lived in had everything being stripped from their family piece by piece.

Tommy dunks his head into the water letting the cool water bite his skin and sting his eyes. He sat back up taking a deep breath. He stood. Enough crying. Wil needed him. He needs to be strong or else he'll lose everything.

He looks up to the sky telling himself it will be the last time, “Phil, if you did survive, I’m sorry I couldn’t talk him out of it. I wasn’t good enough... You deserved better than me, I was an ass to you, and I was just a nuisance. I never did anything. And I couldn't even do anything now when you needed me most. I hope one day you’ll forgive me.”

Tommy knew Phil was never the one who would hold something like this against someone. 'Not being enough wasn't a fault' Phil had said. 'It's a sign that you still have more to learn.' Not being enough was not a failure of character and should never be treated as such. But no matter how many times Tommy had heard that, had repeated it, it never felt true. He could be more, he knew he could be and yet he was still here. Not enough to save one person. He was never enough.

He picked up the sword staring at himself. His eyes were red and puffy, and the sword was clean. He sheaths it not wanting to look at his face any longer. He would be better and maybe if he pretends to be stronger than he is, one day he will be.

The walk back is quiet. A shudder runs down his spine. He turns to look for whatever had sent the chill down his spine. He saw nothing. He took a breath. He was still on edge, he was just paranoid. Even if it was for good reason. But he wasn't Elytrian so he should be fine. But that just meant he needed to get back to Wilbur. With the sword gripped tightly in his hand he ran. He didn't have any more time to waste. He took a deep breath, focusing in case he needed to fight.

He runs and reaches the small clearing where he can't help but look at the heap of feathers. It looked so much like a bloody corpse and in a way it was. He looked left and then right relieved when Wil was still there.

He is less relieved when he is curled up near a tree the pile of wood discarded next to him. "Wil are you okay."

"Tommy, it's cold," Wil said with his broken voice before coughing. Tommy pulled the cloak off of his shoulder and threw it around Wil who pulled it close like a lifeline.

"Is that better?" Wil nods still shaking. "Are you still cold?" He nods again and this time Tommy does panic because Wil never gets cold. And never this cold. "I'll get a fire started. Focus on staying warm." Wil nods before pulling his head into his knees and pulling the fabric around him. Tommy quickly finds stones and places them around a spot with the least likely chance to start the forest on fire. He then grabs the wood Wilbur found and the flint from their bag. He strikes the flint and tries to cultivate the flying sparks into a flame.

Tommy does so with surprising success for the amount of panic he feels bubbling in his chest. So as the fire slowly grows he pulls Wil towards the flame.

Will is clammy now. And Tommy can feel Wil shake underneath his grip. He isn't sure what is wrong and he doesn't know how to fix it. Wil coughs. Tommy goes to brush the hair out of Wil's eyes. He never would normally but he was feeling protective. But that just made him panic more since as he barely brush his fingers against Wil's forehead he felt Wil burning up.

What would Phil do? He would find the cause of the issue but Tommy isn't sure what exactly caused Wil to get sick. So maybe mum what would mum do? She always just seemed to know what to do. Wait, wait Phil had said something about potions. They were expensive but a good potion could give the strength of ten men or could heal the most serious of injuries. A bad potion though could do more harm than good.

If he found the nearest town he could sell the wings and buy a potion and save Wil because whatever was happening Tommy knew it wasn't good. But he was scared to leave Wil. What if he got worse, what if…… what if he died and Tommy wasn't even there to say goodbye.

Tommy had too many regrets for that to be one of them.

He looked at the wings and looked at Wil. If he left Wil might die if he stayed he almost certainly would but at least Tommy could say goodbye. He swallowed. What was the right decision? Wil's eyes started to flutter close.

"Wil don't leave me."

"Tommy," Wil's voice is grating, "I'm sorry."

"No Wilby you, you can't say that. Please don't say sorry."

Wil falls asleep. He's still breathing, his heart is still beating but he's not conscious and that scares Tommy. Tommy holds him close to his chest. He doesn't want Wil to die. But if he does Tommy, at the very least, doesn't want him to die alone.

"What have you done?"

Tommy whips his head around. A young lady with waves of copper hair and a dress of matching red flowed down her body and made her look like liquid fire. "What have you done to him?" She asks again. Tommy doesn't have a good answer and doesn't have an answer he wants to give. She walks towards them and between Tommy's fraying nerves and his panicked sorrow he shouts at her.

"Stay the fuck away from us."

"He's dying. He needs help." She looks furious at him. Her hands are shaking. But she softens a little. Her eyes fill with worry. She looks at the wings. Then looks back at Tommy. "He wanted this." Tommy just stares at her. "I can help if you'll let me."

"You can?" It's quiet, even to Tommy's own ears, small. She nods. He looks back at Wil. "Please help."

She walks to them and pulls water out of the air and the ground and uses it to cool his forehead. "Did you clean his wounds?"

"No, I didn't even think to do it. I just wanted to stop the bleeding." Tommy says as she slowly pulls Wil from his grip.

"He isn't doing well. He almost certainly got an infection in addition to shock." She pulls the bandages off and looks at the wounds. Tommy's stomach churns and his throat burns at the sight.

Her face falls as she looks at Wil's back. "I won't be enough." She says a heaviness to her voice.

"What about a potion?"

"A healing potion? That could work but unless you have one available it isn't an option."

"Can you go get one? We'll pay you back."

She looks at him for a moment, "they aren't cheap, and not easy to find. But I can try. But first, let me clean his wounds so he won't die while I'm gone."

"Thank you."

"Sally." She moves her hands and water slowly forms in the air at her fingertips. She makes gentle gestures in the air as water cleans out Wil's wound. "My name is Sally."

"Thank you, Sally. For helping Wilbur." He watches her and looks to Wil's wings once more. "My name is Tommy."

Sally stands. "Rewrap his wounds. Hopefully, he won't die before I can return. And Tommy, don't be too hopeful. There is only so much that can be done." She walks away and Tommy is left in shambles trying to pick up the broken pieces. He rewraps Wil's wounds and prays that Wil will wake up again.

Wil had felt his consciousness and awareness slip away from him as Tommy begged for him to stay. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to stay. He forced his eyes open but found himself in a field of yellow grain that stretched infinitely towards the horizon. It was gorgeous. The sky was a brilliant blue lit up with sunlight with no sun in sight. It was clear with no chance of rain. If he believed in death being peaceful he would think it would be something like this. But he didn’t think a world so terrible could have such a peaceful place in death.

He heard some light humming and gentle laughter. He followed it. He saw his mum and dad. He tried to say something to them but he wasn’t sure how they would feel about what he had done. His wings were gone and they had taken theirs to their graves. He looked over his shoulders just to see if they had returned. They had not. They weren’t bleeding anymore but there were still red slits where his wings should have been.

He watched his parents laugh and talk. He missed them. He watched as mum hummed a gentle tune as she braided dad’s hair. He was looking at the sky above humming along with her. Wil wanted to play to support them. He wanted to join them but his violin had been lost in the ruins of Elytria. His fingers brush against the charm at his hip. A black and white pin made from feathers.

He wanted to fly with them again. Why did he cut off his wings? He looked at the sky again; it had always been welcoming to him. He listens to the melody his parents hum. It was the melody ingrained in his heart. He hummed along. Closing his eyes. It was peaceful here. No one could hurt him here. No one was hunting him or his family here. It was perfect.

“Wil?” He opens his eyes and looks at his parents. “What are you doing here?” dad asks.

“I think I died. Or I'm dying.” Wil says, his voice not painful but still croaking.

Dad looks around, “where’s Tommy?”

Wilbur looks around too. “Alive, trying to save me,” Wilbur says, not sure if he wants to be saved anymore. “Where are we?”

Dad looks at mum, “I don’t know Wil. Where do you think we are?”

Wil isn’t sure, he looks at mum who hasn’t turned to look at them. She’s looking at the sky still humming. When was the last time they talked? He wishes she would talk to him now. But he doesn’t know what she would say.

“I don’t know dad. I really don’t know.” was he dead, was this limbo? It felt too pretty for either.

“And what happened to your wings Wil?”

“I cut them off. It’s why I'm here. They were only causing problems for me so I cut them off.”

“You know what that means right?”

“I do. And I didn’t care.” Wil says his hand hovers near the tear in his back.

Dad places a hand on Wil’s shoulder but it feels senseless. They aren’t physical here wherever here is. “Then there is nothing for me to say on the matter.” he turns letting his hand fall off of Wil’s shoulder. He walks over to mum offering her his hand. She giggles and takes it. He kisses her hand. It’s exactly how he remembers them acting when they had been alive and well.

Remembers.

This was his own head. He was living in his own head right now. He was dying and he created this world for himself while he slowly faded away. Dad and mum turned away slowly walking away. Dad looked over his shoulder. “Remember to be there for your brother. He needs you. You’re all he has left.” and like that he and mum glide up into the sky in a takeoff more graceful than any he has ever seen that if he hadn’t figured it out would be the thing telling him this world isn’t real.

They dance around the sky. A reminder that he can’t. As they cut through the sky, the sky changes from vibrant blue to a dull silvery blue but is still just as bright. He feels tears brim in his eyes.

He wipes them away, his hands staining red. It was blood, he notes. It falls to the ground and the lush golden grains shrivel and die radiating from that point until the earth is black. He was killing the things precious to him. A low chuckle builds in his throat. He was killing his memory of mum and dad. He was killing his happiness. Maybe he was dying. Accepting his fate. Maybe this is what the void looked like, a place devoid of everything that gave you happiness, but equally devoid of anything that could cause you pain. He looked up at the sky as mum and dad became specks on the horizon.

“Wilby?” He turns around to face Tommy. “Wilby please come back I need you.” Tommy is stuck in place. The black earth trapping his feet in stone prisons. He’s crying. Wilbur walks towards him but a crevice starts to form in between them. He races to try and get to Tommy before the crevice is too big. But as he speeds up so does the crumbling; he reaches the edge of the crevice and small stones fall into the void. Bouncing off of small ledges as they tumble down into the dark. He looks at Tommy. “Wilby please don’t leave me. Please you can’t die.” Wilbur turns around looking for anything. He sees mum and dad in the sky. It’s the prettiest thing he has seen. Them, dancing in the sky. He wants to be a part of it. Blue tinted grass starts to grow at the horizon it comes towards him stopping a few paces away. The sun is starting to form on the horizon. He turns to look at the crevice as it reaches to either side infinitely.

Tommy looks at him desperately. “You’re all he has left.” was what dad had said. And Tommy was all Wilbur had left. He looked behind him for dad. Except he could join them now. If he let go of trying to stay alive.

He looked back at Tommy. Vines covered in thorns grew behind him. The moon slowly rising on the horizon. Everything was trying to get him to accept death. Everything except Tommy begging him to fight through the pain. “He needs you.” dad’s words echo through his head.

Damn it, dad. Why are you always right. He tried to figure out how to get to the other side. And the only way he can see is to fly. He looks back at dad and mum. He needs wings. He watches as they plumate to the earth their wings falling apart feather by feather in the sky.

The feathers collect the blue in the sky as it falls onto Wilbur. Leaving the sky a bloody red. The wings reform on his back. He can fly to either horizon, one that promised pain or one that ended it. He stretched his wings and pulled himself into the blood-red sky. He headed towards Tommy. As he flew over the crevice he felt the feathers fall apart just like mum and dad’s. He flew faster. The wings decayed and disappeared. He reached for Tommy. Tommy reached as far as he could.

Wil’s borrowed wings were gone. He was falling. And he hadn’t reached the other side yet he was just a little too far away from it. Tommy ripped his legs free from the earth and ran to him. Wil smiled. Tommy wouldn’t be enough. Both their efforts were in vain.

Tommy grabbed Wil’s hand, holding him and trying to keep him from falling into the void. He wasn’t strong enough. And Wil had lost all his energy trying to get back to Tommy.

Blood poured from Wil’s wounds again. Now that his wings were lost for a second time. The blood flowed down his back forming weights at his ankles trying to pull him under. Trying to pull him out of Tommy's grasp. Tommy couldn’t win against the odds. Wil blinked. And when he opened them the world dimmed. Black clouds rolled in making everything around him black. The only things left were him and Tommy. Wil blinked. He felt so tired.

“Wilby please stay alive.” he heard Tommy cry. He opened his eyes to see a tear from Tommy fall and land on Wil's cheek.

“I’m trying Tommy. But I’m so tired.” it was weak with both how tired he was and how much his throat hurt still.

Another tear fell. Wilbur blinked again.

He felt heavy.

Another tear

And another. He opens his eyes and sees that it has started to rain. A few drops but it slowly picks up until it is a steady rain. The water seeps into his wounds and washes away his blood the chains once pulling him into the void lighten and disappear as the rain beats them away. A pained laugh builds up in his chest. What were the chances it would rain today? When the sky had been clear of clouds just a little bit ago.

Tommy pulled again and Wilbur reached for the edge. The rain giving him just enough strength to move. He grabs the edge and pulls. It doesn't feel like it is enough but Tommy manages to pull him back to safety. Tommy is panting.

“Wilby. I did it.” Wil smiles at Tommy from the ground as Tommy hasn’t stopped crying yet.

“You did Tommy. And here I thought you wouldn’t be able to.” he closes his eyes again he’s still so tired. “I promise I’ll never doubt you again Tommy.”

“Wil please stay with me.”

Wil feels his eyes flutter open and close. He reaches out. Tommy grabs his hand. The hard earth slowly disappears underneath him. But he isn’t falling. “I’ll never let go again Tommy,” Wilbur says. As he drifts into sleep.

Wilbur grips Tommy's hand tighter. He is no longer floating. The hard earth is back underneath him. He opens his eyes. The sky is a dull grey. Not blue, silvery, red, or black. Mum and dad aren’t here.

“Wil?” Tommy asks. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah.” Wilbur croaks out and he can feel how dry his throat is.

“Oh thank gods,” Tommy says pulling Wil’s hand up to his forehead. As if he was actually praying to the gods.

Wil closes his eyes again. He still felt tired and sore. He let go of Wil’s hand. Wil opened his eyes as Tommy rose to his feet. He crosses over to someone.

“Thank you, Sally,” Tommy said giving a slight bow to a stranger.

“I’m glad to see you aren’t a murderer Tommy. Next time though don’t wash blood-stained swords in my stream.”

“Who are you?” Wilbur asks. Straining himself to sit up.

“Sally, daughter of Wasser.”

“Wasser, as in the god of water?”

“Indeed, I'm a water sprite. And you are Wilbur, an Elytrian, correct?”

“Yes, although I suppose I’ve shuffled off the title of Elytrian." He looks at his wings. They have been cleaned and carefully wrapped. They would start to decay soon. They should sell them as soon as possible.

"I've seen." She says with sorrow.

"Do you hate me for it?" He asks.

"I don't hate it but I can't like it either. To me, such an action is something tragic."

"Does that make me a tragedy?"

"I guess it does."

"Tommy come here. I need you to help me up."

"Wil maybe you should rest a little more."

"I don't think we have time Tommy. We need to sell my wings. We need new clothes and if anyone finds us with them they may connect the dots and it would all be for nothing."

"You really care about him don't you?" Sally asks.

"Yes." He and Tommy both say.

She looks directly at Wil. "Do you think this will be worth it? Do you think years down the line you will regret it?"

Wil thinks about it. "I do. A normal life is everything I want and everything I miss. There may come a time when I will wish that I had my wings again. Where I wish to be in the sky. But I can't regret it. I won't." Wil thinks back to his dream. He had the choice to take his wings back and leave Tommy. A chance to be with mum and dad again. And he still chose to give up his wings for Tommy. He wouldn't make any other choice.

"And you'd really sell something so precious?"

"I know you don't agree but it makes sense for me to do it." He looks at Sally and now that he has talked with her and gained his bearings, being less focused on the fact that his feet are under him. She is beautiful. Her shimmering copper hair cascading in soft ringlets down her back. Her teal eyes. Her delicate fingers. Even the sparkling scales that accented her gills. And her voice was like sweet music.

This must be how dad felt when he saw mum.

She smiles sadly. "I've never seen anyone as honest with themselves as you are now. Most people will say with certainty that they have made the right choice. Or be completely unsure if they made the right choice at all. To meet someone somewhere in between those two intrigues me."

"I'm glad I don't bore you my sweet Sally." He smiles softly at her. Maybe he would get the chance to talk with her more. "But I'm afraid Tommy and I should get moving as I don't know how long it will take for us to reach a town and I fear my wings are already starting to decay."

"I know where a town is. Do you mind if I continue walking with you?"

Wilbur smiles as his back starts to throb. "Be my guest.",

Tommy didn't agree with Wilbur which seemed to be a common occurrence as of late. He was carrying one wing which was too light for his liking. It should be heavy, a weighted thing to have something beautiful broken in your arms. Wil didn't seem to mind. It was his wing.

Tommy wondered if maybe the wing was too heavy for Wilbur now that he wasn't weighed down by fear and hate.

Sally and Wilbur are getting along swimmingly. Which, although surprising and annoying, is a welcome situation. It gives time for Tommy to collect himself. Take his emotions and control them.

He glances at them now talking about the beauties they had seen both in the sky and below the ocean while trying to decide which was more beautiful. Wilbur was using more flowery language too. Which is something Phil used to do when talking to mum.

Tommy tries not to be scared but he is. Wilbur was alive he was the one person Tommy had left and if he spent more time with Sally well Tommy would be just as alone as if Wilbur had died.

Tommy didn't want to be alone again. Having a family had been nice. He didn't want to lose it. Not again.

But if Wilbur did choose Sally. Would Tommy be able to do anything? Tommy doesn't think he has ever won an argument with Wilbur. Not unless mum or Phil stepped in.

He had come to draws once or twice but those were few and far between. He strokes the feathers underneath his fingers. They are still soft.

"Sally, why did you help me? I mean we are strangers. It's been bugging me for a while." Wilbur says and Tommy listens because this, he does want to hear. He owes Sally so much and he doesn't even know why she did what she did.

"I'm young for a water sprite. I've lived under Wasser's watch with my siblings. It's very rare that we receive news about the mainland."

"I'm afraid I don't understand why that would lead you to help me," Wilbur says.

"We heard about the Elytrians and the hunt to end them. I've always been one to want to experience everything. I was afraid I would never meet an Elytrian. Afraid the only way I could learn was by visiting a destroyed place and reading books."

"So is it everything you hoped for."

"I don't know Wilbur. I don't know. You're just a person. And a person who lacks the one thing that made him different from other races."

Tommy stared at Sally. She had made Wil stop. If Tommy had said that, would Wilbur have reacted the same way. He doesn't think so.

"I'm sorry that you met me under such unfortunate circumstances, Sally. I wish I had gotten the chance to show you the sky. But I've made my choice. I choose to have a life, free of the issues that had haunted my family." Wilbur glances at Tommy. "I don't want to regret this choice."

Tommy left the conversation and in a way, he left his body. Felt detached.

Wilbur wanted to die. Wanted to follow Phil to the ends of the world. The only reason he hadn't is Tommy. The only reason he had chopped off his wings. The only reason he hadn't given up yet.

Was Tommy being selfish?

He had found something he wanted and he was hurting other people to keep it. Wil and Phil could fly; he was just pulling them down. Maybe they would still be together if they hadn't bothered with him. Not like he was in danger because of Elytria. He could have been fine.

He should have left them long ago. He was just a burden to them. Sally paused.

"I don't think I should follow you any further, not like this at least."

"How else would you follow us?"

Sally walks into the stream they had been following and morphed into a red fish.

"A salmon?"

"Is that an issue?"

"No no, just surprised. You are no less beautiful."

And Tommy just watches as they banter a little before they continue to follow the stream and come across a small town. Wil takes a deep breath he is still wearing Tommy's cloak to hide his blood-stained bandages and Tommy is wearing the backpack to hide his open-backed Elytrian shirt.

They aren't even in the town before they are drawing stares and Tommy does not know whether to be afraid or not. He has a feeling Wilbur feels the same but he is hiding it much better.

Wilbur was paranoid. He can't remember the last time he went into a town. It had always been a sure way to get himself killed.

He ruffled his wings only to realize it was gripped in his hand. He looked at Tommy. "Tommy you are going to have to take the lead."

And Tommy did he took a deep breath and started walking into the cobble and dirt paths. He looked around and walked up to a stranger. "Excuse me miss, can you point us somewhere to sell these?" She looks down at what Tommy is carrying and smiles sweetly.

"Elytrian wings?"

"Yes."

"You've done us a service. You can go down this street and take the first major left then there will be a store on the right that specializes in hunting and trapping that will take them off your hands for a good price." Wil feels so incredibly small. She praised them for his death. He was nothing but a vicious wild animal to people.

"Thank you ma'am have a lovely day."

"Thank you, you as well." She turns and walks away and Tommy walks through the streets following her directions. Wil feels nothing but numb through all of it. Every glance every person. They pass are nothing more than shadows. No one valued his life here.

They walked into the shop that the lady had told them of, and he saw animal hides lining walls and heads mounted on plaques. This is what he was. He was selling his culture, his heritage, and his birthright. His token of freedom to people who saw it as material to use and a prize to win.

He hated it, his wings ached looking at it. His back. Not his wings, his wings were detached and in his hand.

"Excuse me sir I was told I could sell Elytrian wings here."

"You heard correct. Mind if I see them?" Tommy places one wing on the counter and Wilbur follows suit. He stares at them with a sort of melancholy feeling. This was the right choice. It had to be.

The man examines his wings looking for whatever it was that denoted quality. "It's a nice color, two tonal wings like these are quite sought after, and the shine and luster of these feathers show this was clearly taken care of. The blood has been poorly cleaned off but I have a trick for that so that's no big deal. I'll give you ….. for these."

Wil's brain was black static. That's how much he was worth. It was a lot but it didn't feel like enough.

"Now give me the price you'd offer to our parents."

The man smiles. "So where are your parents?"

"Back at camp. They asked us to come run this errand while they attended to the rest."

When did Tommy get so good at lying?

"Alright, I'll double it. That's more than what I would normally pay but these are nice wings and you're a smart kid. I like to encourage smart kids."

"What do you think Wil?"

Wil simply nods not sure what else to do.

"Alright, we'll take it."

"Alright just set them over there and I'll go grab that for you." Tommy places it down where indicated and Wilbur follows suit.

It all feels so much more surreal. And more real at the same time. It doesn't feel like it has happened at all and feels wrong in a way only reality can feel. The man comes back with a pouch of gold coins; Tommy immediately opens the pouch and counts the coin satisfied that he has been paid what he was told.

They bid farewell and leave the store. "Here." Tommy holds out the pouch of coins. Wilbur puts his hand out and Tommy drops it in his hand. "It's your money." It's heavy. So much heavier than his wing. He was holding his freedom in his hand. This was how much it cost him. It was too much but Wilbur wasn't sure if he regret it. Maybe it would be worth it later when he and Tommy found a place to stay.

"We should buy new clothes." He says. They both know their clothes are distinctive. The open backs designed for wings weren't really found anywhere but Elytria. Tommy just nods and starts walking through the streets as if he belongs here. Or at the very least like he isn't afraid.

Tommy stops another person for directions and Wil barely recognizes this Tommy.

Getting clothes is uneventful other than the fact that they walk out of the store wearing some of what they bought. They would need to find a proper way to dispose of the old clothing later.

But on the way out of town, something catches Wilbur's eye and he stops. He misses his violin. He had hated playing. The feel of the bow in his hand always felt strange when he was also taught how to hold a sword.

But this didn't have a bow. Maybe he would enjoy playing this more. "Excuse me. May I try this?" He asks the lady running the stand.

"Go ahead. But if you damage it you pay for it."

"Of course."

He picks it up and places his hand on the neck and the other rests over the center. He holds down a random cord and strums. It's gorgeous. He plucks at the strings and moves his hand along the neck.

"You are quite good. Is your old one having troubles?"

"I've never had one. I'll be honest I don't know what this is called." He does know what it is called but in Elytrian not the common tongue. "I did use to play violin when I was younger but I didn't care for it."

"Well, maybe it just wasn't the right instrument for you. This guitar might be your instrument."

Wilbur strikes another chord. It's not quite the chord he had been going for. Seems the spacing of the chords was more different than he originally thought. But it is still beautiful. "Perhaps it is." Another few chords as he starts to play the song most familiar to him. "How much is it?"

He takes that information. He shouldn't. He might need the money later. In fact, he is almost certain he will.

"Wil." He turns to Tommy who has stopped. "I think you should get it."

Tommy is looking at the guitar in his hands. It's a sad expression and Wil knows he is thinking about Wil practicing the violin in the heat of summer afternoons. Tommy had refused to pick up an instrument. The few times mom had tried to encourage Tommy to try violin Tommy had deliberately butchered playing it until she told him he could stop.

Wil had loved music even if he hadn't quite liked the violin in particular.

"You sure Tommy?" He knew Tommy. He knew Tommy hated taking Wil's wings. This was him trying to get Wil to take something of his back. Take back the music that had freed him from reality and had provided him safety.

"You need this." He finally says.

Wil turns back to the lady who was selling the guitar. She smiled softly. "Alright." He pulls out the required coins and gives them to her.

"Actually wait for a moment." She tells him as he goes to leave. She steps into a back area and comes back with a black case. She sets it down. "You can take this too. It's not the nicest as it's my old case but it will help you move it around."

Wil places the guitar in the case. It fits in it with a little wiggle room. He closes the case and zips it shut. "Are you sure I can have this?"

"I wasn't using it and it won't sell. You'd be taking it off my hands and doing me a favor."

Wil gives a gentle bow. "Thank you, miss."

"It's no problem. Have a nice day, enjoy playing the guitar you really do have a knack for it."

He walks away, a new prize in tow. What was he doing? Was he okay with this? He isn't sure anymore. Tommy walked beside him silently. Whether that was out of habit or from lack of anything to say he can't be sure.

Sally transforms again and walks out of the stream almost like she had never walked in at all. Her hair was pristine and dry. her clothes free of any droplets and her eyes still the most beautiful thing he had seen. Precious gemstones pried from the ocean bed.

"So you do music."

"I do. It's actually the core of my magic. A melody I grew up with. Wanderer's lullaby. Have you heard it?"

"I can't say I have." She tilts her head. "You could play it for me."

"And I promise I will."

"So your magic is a melody. That's not common. Sounds are so rare for magical quality as is."

"What's yours if I may ask?"

"It's wet sand. A reminder of my origins and my desire."

"Born to the water but longing for sand. It sounds like a ballad."

"Perhaps it could be."

"Perhaps it will be." The way Sally smiles ever so slightly at his words sends his heart fluttering. Her smile is perfect. And she is so kind.

They are flirting. He can recognize that. He had flirted with girls before. But Sally felt different. More like a soul mate. He was reminded of dad showering mum with words of praise and love every second he saw her. He wanted to do that for Sally. Tell her every day how amazing she was until she grew tired of his praise and asked for him to be quiet. Then he would show his love and adoration in different ways. In secret notes, and flowers, in ballads of her story, and in poorly written poems.

But could he be sure that she wanted that or that she wanted that with him? Maybe she would be too busy exploring to even entertain the notion of a partner. Maybe courtship was wildly different with water sprites. He couldn't be sure.

As his head spins he feels a phantom touch stroke his wings. He glances over his shoulder. His wings are gone so why does he still feel the wind ruffle his feathers when he isn't actively remembering he has none. Why is it he feels them itch to open when they were forever closed. Why can he feel them when they aren't there.

"Is something wrong Wilbur?"

"I could have sworn someone touched me. I wouldn't worry about it too much." Wil says trying to brush the feeling off. his wings are gone. They are gone just like he wanted. They're gone. And so is the sky. So is dad. So is mom.

"Are you sure?" Sally asked.

"Yeah. It's fine." Was it?

"If you're sure," Sally says as she keeps walking. "Actually Tommy. Didn't you say you would pay me for the healing potion I got for you?"

"So that's how I didn't die."

"How much was it?" Tommy asks.

Wilbur holds out the pouch of coins. "Take what you think you are owed. I hope we have enough."

She looks in the pouch and pulls out several coins. She pockets it and tosses the pouch back to him. He fumbles it a little bit. "I'm glad to see they were at least valuable. It would be tragic if you did all that and they were worth barely anything."

"Uhm yeah. Yeah, it would." They should have been worth more though. For how much they meant to him they should have been worth more.

They make it back to camp before Wilbur is aware they should stop. He didn't want to admit the number of times he thought he heard footsteps of pursuers only for it to be Sally or on occasion Tommy. He also won't admit how many times he had tried to fan his wings out ready to take off.

He felt jumpier now that he couldn't fly away. Now that he was alone. Maybe the last Elytrian. How would know if he was or not when everyone scattered to the wind and especially now that he was grounded.

He was so on edge that his fingers were tapping his leg and he flinched when he hit a coin and made a plinking noise. He felt like ants were crawling in his skin. He pulled his guitar off. Maybe it would calm him down.

He plunked a few strings learning where the notes were and what sound each string made. He felt his nerves slowly ease as he started humming the song of his core.

Muttered words to a lullaby his parents had sung.

"It's very pretty. I wish I could play." Sally says as she sits down next to him

"Have you tried?" he asks.

She shakes her head and the soft waves of curls swish around her head.

He hands her the guitar. "Here give it a try." She places her hands on the guitar choosing a random chord and strumming. She smiles at him.

"Teach me to play the song you were playing." For that smile, he would do anything.

He crosses his legs and gestures for her to sit in front of him, patting the ground.

She moves to sit in front of him and he wraps his arms around hers placing his hands on hers and guiding them his head tilts over her shoulder. "You want your hand to start here. Curl your fingers like this. And strum. Them move them down the neck to this note."

Wilbur listens and guides her through it and when she tries to play on her own she stops and starts and hits a few notes too sharp and one too flat. And Wilbur winces at each one as she butchers that song he loves so much.

She laughs, "guess I'm no good at this," she says as she hands the guitar back and Wilbur strums it mindlessly.

"I mean maybe you just need practice."

"I think I'll leave the music to you." She says as she listens to his mindless strumming. He hasn't felt relaxed since he had been at home with mum but he thinks this is close.

Tommy could only watch Wilbur as the days slowly turned to weeks. He and Sally talked and she seemed to allow him to relax. That and playing his guitar.

He didn't miss Wil looking over his shoulder randomly, he didn't miss Wil flinching at sounds both real and phantom, and he didn't miss Wil looking at dad and mum's pin as he looked more and more tired and worn.

He couldn't understand what Wil was going through. They had such different lives after all. Wil had always been part of a family in the sky he had simply been taken into it.

He watched as Sally pulled him after her. Wil smiled. It was small and his eyes still held deep sorrow underneath but there was real light and happiness there.

He didn't want Wil to leave him but maybe it was better he stay with Sally. He was alive and that meant he could still talk to Wil but Wil wasn't defined by Tommy. He knew that.

Wil pulled away his hand lingering in hers for just a moment longer than felt normal.

He loved her.

Wil went to go sleep. He had been doing that a lot lately still recovering from losing his wings.

He followed Sally.

"You know he loves you right?" Tommy asks.

"I kinda figured but there is still a part of me that doubts that his love will last. Maybe he doesn't love me. Maybe this isn't real." She says as she sits down by her stream her feet pointed in the water.

"I've known him for a while. He knew this other girl and they thought it was going to last and it was different. It didn't look like our parents at all it looked like they were trying to be in love. With you, it's easy, like falling."

She giggles, "strange comparison but I guess there is a reason we say we are falling in love."

"That's kinda what I was going for."

She rolls her eyes. And becomes a bit more serious. "I can't stay Tommy."

"What? But Wil… he needs you. And you love each other."

"I wish I could."

"So why don't you. You could come with us, see the world."

"That's the problem Tommy" she forces Tommy to stop. "Wasser, he is our protector, our father. A relationship, a leaving of his nest; it requires his permission and approval. Or else I insure a chance of his wrath. I don't want to anger Wasser, or any god for that matter, not when Wil already seems like he is forsaken by the gods. He needs stability not, not Wasser brooding." She pauses looking at the stream. "I need to go home soon Tommy. I need to do this right I need to get Wasser's approval. Then I will come back, no matter how long it takes I will try to get back to Wil. I promise you that. My heart is here."

"and what if when you come back it's too late? What if you find out Wil was killed? What if you find out he changed because he was scared of his past? What happens if you never find us again? Sally, I don't want to lose Wil, not to you, not to anyone, but I'd rather Wil not lose himself in sorrow and fear. For that, I'd give up anything. For that, I'd be willing to let Wil go, willing to let you steal that from me. Sally, I need you to stay, for Wil."

"You know I could tell you didn't like me and I didn't like you in return. You were annoying and rude. You seemed like a child refusing to grow up. Guess I was wrong though."

"You weren't I really didn't like you, and I was a prick about the whole thing."

"I meant about you refusing to grow up. It's that you were forced to grow up too soon and never got a chance to really be a kid. You're still rude and I can't be sure we'll ever get along even going so far as to say if it weren't for Wil we'd be at each other's throats. But now at least I know why you are the way you are." she stops swaying her feet in the water and looks at him. "Wil is lucky to have you as a brother."

"I don't know about that."

"He is and that's that. No arguing I'm right. And just know this is the only time I'm going to say that. Because even if it's true I don't like saying it out loud. So just say thank you and we can move on."

"Maybe a different day. Maybe then I'll believe it." Tommy said because Wil didn't want to be here, he wanted to follow dad wherever he went. He was only here for Tommy. He was just being selfish.

"If you're leaving now you should at least say goodbye," Tommy says as he walks back to camp leaving Sally to sit at the water’s edge. He walks in to check on Wilbur who is sitting upright breathing heavily, his arms wrapped around himself. His eyes are filled with fear and unfocused.

He walks over to Wilbur and sits beside him, “Wil?”

Wil looks at him with wide eyes, panic filling his face. He looks at Tommy and his eyes flit around before finally calming down slightly. His breathing is still irregular, “Tommy?”

“Yeah, Wil?”

“Tommy, they’re coming. We need to go. We need to, we need to fly away, we need to get out of here now.” he looks around, “where’s dad? We need to find dad and leave.”

Wil makes to get up but his hand moves slightly and he looks over his shoulder when he realizes his hand should've touched his wings. He stares on in growing horror. It drags on for minutes but Wil slowly remembers. His face falling his eyes no longer are alight in fear but dull as sorrow creeps in. He settles back down collapsing into himself his head falling into his hands as he starts to sob. Tommy wonders if Wil forgot Tommy was here. So Tommy stands and leaves as Wil cries for who knows what reason. There are too many options that could cause it.

Tommy collapses too, further away, near a random tree.

Sally walks back over and looks at him in concern, he tilts his head towards Wil. Wil needs her. Tommy, Tommy was used to figuring things out on his own, even if he didn't want to. He rubs a hand down his face as he hears gentle words and hushed tones.

Wil had started having nightmares since dad left. Neither of them said it out loud but how could Tommy not realize that was what was happening. Seemed this time it was of the day they had left the burning and crumbling Elytria. Phil had pulled them out of their house in the middle of the night as they heard the sounds of the growing conflict. Screams, swords, the sound of crackling fire, and the occasional piercing explosion. Into the sky, Phil had taken them and they had been on the run ever since.

Except now Phil, Phil was gone. Whether or not he was dead it didn’t matter the chances of them ever finding each other again slimmed with each passing day.

Tommy took a shaky breath. They could do this, he could do this. He wasn’t weak and he refused to fall back into lonely days and fear. He hated it then, he hated it now. He was going to be the hero he always wanted to be. He would. And that meant being strong in the face of challenges.

Wil sits there beside Sally. He hates that she is seeing him like this. Hates that she is seeing him breakdown so completely, hates that he still hasn’t pulled himself together, and more than that he hates that when she hummed a gentle tune, his melody, he forgot for a moment, a brief couple of seconds, that anyone else had sung it to him. He had been lost so completely in that moment in his song that dad and mum faded from his memory and he hated it.

How could he forget them, they were so important to who he was, so connected to his past and everything… everything that was hurting him. But he loved them, he didn’t want to trade them for anything in the world. Except he had already lost them, he had traded them for a few more weeks free from the clutches of a world that hated him. Maybe. Maybe they would forgive him if he forgot.

“Wilbur?” Sally asks, her voice concerned, “are you here?”

“I am Sally,'' he said, his face buried into her shoulder as she rubbed his back in soft circles comforting him when he had been lost in his own head. She pulls away and looks him in his eyes. Her beautiful aquamarine eyes glow within their soft copper frame of waves. He smiles because what did he do to meet someone so kind and beautiful, and have her care about him.

“Are you okay?” she asks tucking a few strands of his hair back.

“I don’t know, but I'm better with you here,” he says, placing a hand on her cheek. She flushes with a smile growing on her face. The reddening cheeks simply make her eyes pop more. He loves her. He loves her eyes, loves her kindness, loves the way she will twirl water droplets around her fingers when she got nervous. He loved her even if she was bad at music and seemed to dislike Tommy from the annoyed expressions and glares. He hoped she didn’t hate Tommy.

He didn’t want to have to choose between them because he isn’t sure he could let Tommy go.

“Do you love me Wilbur?” she asks.

In that moment he uses the words he heard echoed in his childhood home, “I love you to the moon and back.” He almost goes and kisses her. But something makes him hesitate and pull back. What if she didn’t love him back. What if she didn’t love him in that way.

But she places a hand behind his head and pulls him in.

Like music his heart swells. A grand orchestra playing his heartstrings to compose the most perfect moment Wilbur has experienced. She pulls back after a second she smiles at him. “Then my love reaches the depths of the ocean.”

“Come with us,” he says because this was beautiful and perfect and everything.

Her face falls and she looks behind her to where she had come from. “No, I did this all wrong. Wilbur, I’m sorry I, I forgot, I, I- I have to go. I’ll come back someday but I need to leave now.” She places a hand over her chest. As she rises, “goodbye Wilbur.” She runs then. And Wilbur wishes he could say he ran after her, that he chased her. That he had fought harder for her to stay. But he had sat there, watching in horror as he realized he was losing another person he loved.

He hadn’t known mom wouldn’t come back, he had fought dad to try and get him to run with them and now he simply watched hoping maybe she would come back. It seemed it doesn’t matter what he does the result is the same. He feels colder. His lips feel broken, and the music he had felt in one moment of bliss stopped, they never did finish the song. Left it on an uncertain note. It hurt more than a proper ending to a beautiful song.

His eyes don’t leave the last place he saw Sally, as if at any minute she might come back. Instead what he gets is Tommy. Tommy, who is his last tie to his life and not even Elytrian. Maybe Elytria was best left in the past. Maybe Wil should just accept the fact that Elytria was dead and become human.

He looks at his hands, he could forget. He could lock all his memories of Elytria away, lock his magic away with it. He could be human. He could let go of the pain and the sorrow and everything that was hurting him. “Tommy, I could erase it.”

“What?”

“Elytria, my magic, my wings, everything could be gone from my memory. It wouldn’t even take all that much. A simple spell. I could do it.”

“What about mum, what about Phil?”

He can hear Tommy's worry. “We could both forget and move on Tommy, a new start. A story free of our past.”

“I don’t want to forget. My past has made me who I am. It was crap half the time, hell sometimes, but it isn’t worth forgetting. It's too important.” Tommy doesn’t look at Wil, as he shrugs, “besides my time in Elytria with mum, you, and Phil, that was the best part of my life, I don’t want that to go.”

He hears what Tommy is saying and he feels horrible for wanting to forget. His past was important to who he was. To who he will become. And maybe who he is becoming is the thing everyone fears. He isn't dad, he isn’t gentle and forgiving. He may not seek out conflict but that doesn’t mean he avoids it either. His fingers strum with magic. He hears his melody in his head played on the violin. Feels it at his core. “Why is it worth it? My everything was taken and tainted. I have nothing left worth any amount of happiness.”

“Wil it hurts, I know it does and it will, but, but one day it will be worth it.”

“Have you reached that day yet Tommy? Can you be sure?”

Tommy doesn’t say a word and that is answer enough.

“Please Wil, just think about it more, this isn’t something you should just do on a whim.” Tommy looks at him with pleading eyes, the only thing that has kept him from giving up, the only thing that keeps him alive. And maybe even then he should just die like everyone wanted. Maybe it would just be easier. Tommy sighs, “I'm going to go prepare dinner.” Tommy says before walking away.

Wil traces his back, his wings are gone, dead. Just like mum and dad. He misses them. He didn’t want to miss them when it was his choice. He knows he made the logical choice, knows they were hurting him, knows he was angry at them, afraid of them, but they were his.

No, he had cut them off he was free of the chains that bound him to Elytria and to his fate. He would write his own story, would write his own melody. Different from the one that currently defined him, his childhood lullaby. He mutters the words. “Wandering child of the earth do you know just how much you're worth, you have walked this path since your birth you are destined for more.” he wished he was worth more, wishes he was destined for more, wished the words were true. He can’t believe he was stupid enough to believe they were true.

“There are those who’ll tell you’re wrong they will try to, to silence your song, but right here is where you belong so don’t search anymore.” He didn't belong here, he didn't belong anywhere. “You are the dawn of a new day that’s waking a masterpiece still in the making, the blue in an ocean of grey, you are right where you need to be poised to inspire, and to succeed you'll look back and you'll realize one day.” His voice broke on those words, Tommy was right he shouldn’t forget but he felt so lost, so alone, so forgotten. And the melody that had reassured him and guided him since he was a child now felt like a betrayal, each word tasted like ash and smelled of smoke, they felt cold and empty. He starts crying again.

What was he supposed to do when even his safety, his core, was dangerous and painful. He would try for Tommy. He would think this through, not be rash because Tommy was right he should at least think about the logic of it.

These sorts of things were supposed to make you stronger after all.

And after two days of thinking it through, he gave up. He wasn’t any stronger for having them. He was broken and breaking further. He needed them gone. He knows Tommy would try and stop him again though. Tommy is simply more sentimental than Wilbur is.

After all, he still strokes his feather charm. Wilbur buried them yesterday. It was the closest he could get to a burial. It was the closest he could get to closure.

He is going to go through with it when Tommy is gone. And he feels lighter at the thought. This was the right decision.

He smiles at Tommy as he leaves to collect water and wood. They've moved east these last few days just to keep moving in case someone came looking and connected the dots. But it's not as frantic as before. Tommy and Wilbur feel slightly more at ease with travel. Or at least Wil does and Tommy doesn't push Wil.

Tommy gives a crooked smile back like he was happy but wasn't sure if he should be or like he had forgotten how to smile. But Tommy leaves and Wilbur waits a minute to make sure Tommy is gone and he sits down.

He crosses his legs and takes a deep breath as he closes his eyes. He focuses on his magic and slowly pulls. Gentle music fills the air around him coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Wanderer's Lullaby singing his magic to sleep and his memories to bed. He draws on his magic and thinks about Elytria as he slowly wipes it from his memories. The white walls and high towers and cliff faces and cobble streets fade from his memory leaving nothing but a vague idea of what should be a place behind.

He thinks about flight, of his neighbors, of wings, and slowly they fade away too. His friends, his rivals slowly become blurred faces and fuzzy words. Mum becomes a story, a tale told once but lost some meaning in each retelling, making her more perfect, less real, and unclear. Dad is much the same, but less ideal, dad is a rumor, whispers of things once said, he's more real, less perfect, and somehow not completely gone. Still images and lessons ring through his head, quiet but not forgotten.

He thinks of the violin, days spent practicing an instrument he no longer has, he thinks of any conversation that could remind him of what he is forcing himself to forget and locking those away behind iron doors. He knows all this can be undone by magic but that requires an Elytrian who knows he is Elytrian too. And all of those people are gone. And so as he locks his memories away he starts on the final thing he wants to do. Throw away the key.

Wil breaths in focusing on his magic, on the melody he must forget. He bids it farewell. Dad told him this was possible in his lessons one day he can't remember why those memories are fading faster with each second and so he does what he must do. He blocks all memories of magic and cuts his melody to a halt.

He feels pain shoot through his body as he does. He feels sweaty and exhausted and hurt. And damn it he was blacking out.

He closed his eyes a pained smile on his lips. When he woke up he would, for all intents and purposes, be human.

Tommy had panicked the moment he saw Wil collapsed. He had dropped everything and immediately checked his pulse and his breathing. He relaxed by a sliver when he confirmed that Wilbur was alive. But he had no clue as to what the hell was even happening.

So he did what he could, check for fever, check to make sure his pulse was regular, his breathing, his eyes to make sure the idiot hadn't hurt his head or some shit. But all he found was someone tired.

Tired. He isn't sure whether or not he's right but Wilbur taxed himself, he must have and Tommy fears what it is that Wilbur does. And all he can do is wait.

So that is what he does. He makes sure Wilbur is safe and taken care of and he finds things to keep himself busy. He tries playing Wil's guitar and finds that one, it does nothing to distract him, and two, he is gods awful at it. He gathers food and makes fires. He investigates things he finds interesting and tries hunting. Manages to catch something which he skins and cooks. He gathers water, sorts their supplies, and strokes the feathers on a chain he keeps hidden underneath his shirt. Mum, Wil's, and Phil's feathers, signs of trust, love, and family.

He misses them. He misses having a proper family so fucking much. The first day passes and he tries to sleep beside Wilbur to make sure he is there should Wilbur need him but he doesn't sleep. He blinks a couple of times where he knows he slept for maybe a couple minutes or an hour if he is being generous. But he is awake most of the night as thoughts and fears race through his head as he strokes his reminder of a normal he had had for a little bit of time. He cries that night as memories he has surface and reminds him of all the good he had found in this family of bird people. Of everything they had done for him. Of everything he had lost. And the nagging feeling that told him he was the only one left who remembered.

He couldn't be sure but he suspected that that is what has caused Wil to fall into whatever sleep state this was. Him erasing his memories. Forgetting.

The sun rose and again he distracted himself, keeping busy. He practiced swinging a sword, practiced swinging a knife, he tried to meditate but he couldn't sit still and he couldn't stop thinking about Wil, and Phil, and wings, and Elytria. So he got up and tried to prepare to travel again. Further east, maybe north some, maybe south. Just away from Elytria but also where the hunters wouldn't think to look for them.

Tommy doesn't want to stray too far today. In case something happens. But they need more water, and more food couldn't hurt them. He looks at Wil grinding his teeth as he thinks. Wil will be fine he can leave and collect food and water.

So he does, he walks to a stream fills up their canteens, and gets a drink while he is there. Looking at the water and wondering where Sally was right now. It's a fleeting thought though and he leaves with hardly a back glance. He collects some roots Phil had taught him were safe and ignores the ones which weren't. He also finds some fruit that he grabs and walks back.

As he approaches though he hears the faint sound of music. Of guitar strings being plucked. Except it's a question. Plucked strings never finding resolution. But that means Wil's awake. Tommy rushes back jumping and ducking branches to get there quicker.

He sees Wil. Sitting with the guitar in his hands. His brows crinkled in thought as he tried to find the melody. But his shoulders and expression are lighter. Tommy watches Wil stumble through the notes. It sounds familiar but he can't place it. Quite like Wil who seems to be lost for the next note.

Tommy is frozen. Wil is awake. But he doesn’t know what to do. What was he supposed to do? So he watches and waits. He stares. Wil eventually looks up and sees him.

“Tommy. You’re back.” Wil says as he lets the guitar rest in his lap. Tommy walks over to him without saying a word. “What happened?”

“How do you mean Wil?” because he can’t be sure what Wilbur means. Maybe, just maybe, he means him passing out? Maybe he means what Tommy has been doing while he is out.

“I don’t know I guess what happened to me?” And Tommy's stomach drops.

“Do you not remember anything Wil?”

“Remember what?”

And Tommy makes a decision to protect Wil, and respect his choice. “You hit your head pretty hard.”

“Did I?”

“You did?”

“So what now?”

“I don’t know, I think it’s one of those things where you just give it time.” Tommy lies. Wil’s memories are gone. He knows that. No amount of time will bring them back.

“Alright, Tommy.”

He doesn’t even want to ask what Wil has forgotten. Doesn’t want to tread into that unknown territory. So he goes to pack as Wil goes back to mindlessly strumming chords. And Tommy chokes on his tears as he realizes the song Wil has been trying to play for however long.

He was trying to play Wanderer’s Lullaby, the song mum and Phil sang to them when they were nervous or scared, the song that was ingrained into Wil's core, his magic. It was lost to Wil. He puts a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob.

Wil was finally free of his fear, of Elytria. But was it worth the cost?

Tommy can never get an answer to that. But all he knows is that now, more than ever, Wil needs him to be normal. Needs him to be strong. He can’t break down because Wilbur did something that reminded Tommy that Wil wasn’t the same.

He swallows and takes a deep shaky breath. He would be strong he told himself as Wil's searching strumming floated into the air never to find the right note.

This was okay, he told himself. Wil was okay. And that was enough.