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The chiming of the bell, which signified the entrance of more customers, made Tommy freeze in his tracks. He shot a nervous glance toward the shop owner, Dream, who had frozen from where his hands were buried in Tommy’s ash-colored wings.
“Don’t make a sound,” the man hissed before stepping out of the back room and moving to greet the customers.
Tommy sagged in relief as soon as he disappeared and tugged weakly at the chain attached to his ankle. He stared numbly at the feathers and drops of blood scattered around his feet before turning an ear toward the people just outside the room.
“—really sick. Do you have any phoenix feathers, by chance?”
It was a deep voice and it carried far, but Tommy could tell it wasn’t alone. He tilted his head in an attempt to hear better and guessed there were at least two, possibly three, people standing near Dream.
“I might,” the shop owner spoke in a sly voice. “What are you offering for them?”
There was a soft rustling sound, and then: “I’ll offer ten diamonds for a couple feathers.”
Dream scoffed. “Twenty.”
“Let’s see the feathers first before we start bargaining, mate,” a different voice spoke this time. The coldness of his voice made Tommy shiver and bury himself further into the corner, his wings wrapping tighter around himself.
“Of course,” Dream sounded annoyed, and Tommy silently cursed the customers for putting him in a bad mood. “Let me grab some from the back.”
“Hold on,” the second voice spoke again. “The feathers are being offered to you, right? I’d rather not buy feathers that were taken instead of given.”
“Of course they’re offered,” Dream’s voice was edging toward a snarl, and Tommy curled further into himself when the older man appeared at the entrance to the room. He snarled wordlessly at him, but Dream barely spared him a glance as he scooped up a few feathers from the floor and disappeared once more. “These are the feathers I sell.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Are you sure these are phoenix feathers?”
This voice was slightly warmer than the other two, and Tommy found himself humming softly to match the tune of it.
“Yes, they’re phoenix feathers. Are you going to buy them or not?”
“They’re grey, though,” the third voice protested. “They can’t have much healing properties at all!”
“Wilbur,” the first voice murmured. “This is the only store we’ve found with phoenix feathers.”
“But Techno!” Wilbur protested. “He’s trying to rip us off!”
The second person sighed loudly, and Tommy smirked weakly at the sound of his exhaustion.
“Boys, we need those feathers, even if they aren’t the best—which,” there was a thoughtful pause. “Why aren’t they red, like they’re supposed to be?”
Tommy frowned, running a hand softly through his dark feathers. They used to be a shimmering flame color, a mixture of reds and oranges, but now there was barely any hint of color at all. It wasn’t his fault, obviously, but he still felt guilty for allowing his wings to become so dirty and devoid of color.
“The phoenix I get them from has been reborn quite a few times, so the colors have faded.”
The silence was longer this time.
“Do you have this phoenix here?” the unknown man asked, his voice low. “Only, I don’t see a flame.”
Tommy flinched at the mention of the fire that he should be keeping alight. He used to have one, a small one, that Dream allowed him to grow in the corner of the room, but he had let it wither out a long time ago and turned his back on the burned wood.
A phoenix’s flame was meant to signify its level of comfort, or safety. The larger the fire was, the safer the phoenix felt. Tommy had given up keeping his fire blazing months ago, long after he had been sold to his current owner, Dream.
“It’s none of your business where I keep the phoenix,” the shop owner spat. “And he gave up on building his fire long ago.”
There was another moment of silence.
“I’ll offer one hundred diamonds for the phoenix,” the man spoke again, his voice tense.
Dream laughed. “No. He’s not for sale.”
“Two hundred diamonds, ten netherite bricks, and a wither star.”
The silence was deafening this time, and Tommy couldn’t help the spark of hope growing in his chest as he rose quietly to his feet, his wings still wrapped around himself, although the many holes scattered throughout didn’t do much to protect him.
“Deal,” the man answered after a long silence. “He’s becoming useless now anyway.”
Once again, Tommy flinched back into the corner when Dream appeared at the entrance, but this time three others followed him in.
The tallest one had curly brown hair and circular glasses, which, in Tommy’s humble opinion, made him look like a bitch. He also had freckled brown wings attached to his back that bristled when he made eye contact with Tommy, and the younger boy quickly averted his eyes and glanced at the man’s companions instead.
There was another man with long, pink hair that almost made him look scarier than if he had brown hair like the other one. He frowned down at Tommy and the blond glanced toward his feet, his eyes widening slightly when he noticed the whip-thin tail lashing behind the man. He was probably a piglin hybrid. Nether-born, and extremely rare.
The last member of their group, and the smallest, was a blond-haired man. He also looked like he was the eldest and had large, crow-like wings attached to his back. He stared down at Tommy with warm eyes and a kind expression that made him freeze in surprise. It had been a while since anyone smiled at him.
“Tommy!” Dream scolded, and Tommy immediately dropped his gaze and allowed his wings to pull away from himself to settle at his back in a submissive way, exposing his tattered clothing and pale skin.
“Your name is Tommy?” the old man asked nicely. “Mine is Phil, and these are my sons, Techno and Wilbur.”
Tommy didn’t answer, glancing up quickly to see Dream’s expression. He didn’t look mad. If anything, he looked a little regretful.
“You’ll be coming with us now,” the man—Phil—pushed on. “Is that alright?”
Tommy looked back at Dream and tilted his head inquiringly. The man gave a short nod at his look and Tommy immediately straightened further and turned towards Phil.
“You’re my owners now?” he asked, his voice hoarse from disuse and lack of water.
“We’re not—we don’t own you, mate.”
“But you paid for me,” Tommy pointed out tentatively, prepared to receive a scolding for speaking out of turn. “I am yours.”
Phil opened his mouth to speak again, but the pink-haired man, Techno, nudged him pointedly and his mouth snapped shut. The other man, Wilbur, looked like he was ready to start a fight, and Tommy made sure to keep an eye on him.
“You will follow them and do as they wish,” Dream spoke up, circling around to Tommy’s back where he ran his hands through the boy’s feathers, causing more to fall to the ground as Tommy winced in pain. “I am no longer your owner.”
“Get your hands off him!” Wilbur snapped, and Tommy flinched violently, tugging his wings out of Dream’s grip.
The older man grimaced at the other three before bending over to the chain on Tommy’s ankle, which kept him attached to the wall. There was a soft clanking sound before the pressure faded away and Tommy stumbled forward immediately, shaking his leg out. It only took a couple steps for him to realize his balance was all screwed up now that the weight of the chain no longer held him down, and he frowned slightly as he adjusted to the new weightlessness.
“Come on, Tommy,” Phil beckoned softly, and Tommy began to walk toward him at a slow pace. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
The boy followed the group eagerly, although he made sure to trail a few feet behind them. When they reached the exit to the room, he glanced back at Dream, his wings twitching.
“I renounced you,” the man practically growled at him. “I am not your flock anymore.”
Tommy drew himself up and, ignoring the gasps of the people behind him, hissed furiously at his previous owner. The man blinked back at him, surprised at his rebellious display.
“You weren’t part of my flock anyways, prick,” he spat furiously. “I doubt even your mother could love somebody as ugly as you.”
Dream lunged, but he was blocked by Techno, who had somehow found a sword and was now pointing it at the shop owner’s throat. Dream backed up, his hands held in a placating gesture, as he glowered at the phoenix.
“They’ll throw you out the second they realize what a brat you are, and you’ll come crawling back to me. You’ll never have a proper flock.”
“That’s enough,” Phil snapped at the same time Tommy yelled, “fuck off!”
“Let’s go,” Techno spoke tensely, and Wilbur moved to grab Tommy’s wrist, but he dodged the action and glowered at the man. Wilbur sent him an apologetic glance and they all turned and walked out of the store with Techno bringing up the rear this time, acting as a barrier between them and Dream.
As soon as Tommy stepped outside, he froze. His eyes slid shut and he breathed in, smiling softly when the wind ruffled welcomingly through his feathers. It took only a second for the breeze to become colder and to swirl around him in a more frantic manner, nearly lifting Tommy into the air before he flattened his wings to his back.
“Okay, okay!” Tommy giggled, twisting around to fully embrace the greeting. “It’s nice to see you too, Clementine.”
“You know the winds?”
Tommy turned at the sound of Wilbur’s voice, and the wind began to die down, instead taking to ruffling softly through his feathers.
“Of course I know the winds,” Tommy scoffed. “I’m an avian, aren’t I?”
Wilbur didn’t answer and Tommy continued to follow the group, laughing occasionally when Clementine tried to sweep him into the air with her. She nudged playfully at his hair and the feathers trailing down his face and arms before drifting back toward his wings.
“I can’t, Clem,” he murmured softly. “They’re broken.”
The wind got colder again, and Tommy suppressed a shiver as she swirled around him furiously, tussling his hair and pulling out his loose feathers. Tommy ducked and covered himself with his hands.
“It’s not my fault!” he protested. “Don't take it out on me!”
“I can’t believe you actually know Clara,” Phil told him and Tommy wrinkled his nose, ignoring the way his legs were beginning to throb from pain.
“Clara? No, I know Clementine. Clara’s the warmer wind. I haven’t flown with her much.”
“They’re…different?” the man asked, aghast. “I thought there was only one.”
“Don’t offend her!” Tommy warned. “Clementine can throw a tantrum real quick.”
Phil hummed an apology, his eyes darting back to make eye contact with Tommy’s. He glanced away quickly and Tommy shuffled his feet as they began walking down a winding path, further and further away from the town.
“Why did you…” he began hesitantly. “Why did you need a phoenix?”
“Ah,” Phil sighed, keeping his eyes fixed ahead of him. “My second youngest son is very sick. He’s beginning to lose his memories and we fear they might all be gone soon.”
Tommy frowned. “I’m afraid my feathers won’t do much to help,” he shook them out with a look of disgust. “They're not as magical as they once were.”
“We figured as much,” Wilbur murmured softly, running a hand through his hair.
Tommy glanced at him but quickly averted his eyes, thinking. So far, the three strangers hadn’t done anything bad to him, and they had seemed genuinely confused when he had asked if they were his new owners. He was broken, sure, but he wasn’t shattered enough not to pick up on the signs of a kind-hearted family.
“When we get to your home, can I build a fire?”
Phil’s head snapped toward him. “Yes, of course! You can use as much wood as you need. We have a fireplace you can build it in so the house doesn’t burn down.”
Tommy gave a small smile to show his gratitude before he returned to staring at the ground. He only glanced up again when Techno told them they were finally there.
The house they approached wasn’t small, but it also wasn’t large. It looked like an average house with a second floor and a nice front porch, which housed several different kinds of flowers. Tommy had half a mind to go and sniff them, but Clementine held him back and nudged him toward the side of the house, where there were stacks of wooden logs.
“Take as many as you think you’ll need,” Phil told him, moving forward to open the front door. “We can always get more if we run out.”
Tommy frowned thoughtfully as he looked at the pile of logs. For this to work, he’d need to build a large fire, one big enough to cover his entire body in flames. He grabbed an armful of the logs and glanced at Techno, who didn’t hesitate to grab more for him. Tommy followed Phil into the house and settled by the fireplace as soon as he saw it, resting comfortably on his knees.
“Tubbo!” Wilbur called. “We’re back!”
There was a pounding that came from the stairs, and a small brown-haired boy came crashing into the room. He glanced around wildly, eyes skipping over Tommy to stare fixedly at Phil.
“Did you get it?”
“Uh… we did—we did get a phoenix, yes.”
“You got the feathers?!”
“Well, no,” he spoke softly. “But we did get a phoenix.”
The boy whipped around again and scanned the room until he locked eyes on Tommy, who was beginning to pile the wood into the empty fireplace beneath their chimney. He barely spared the smaller boy a glance as he leaned back to grab more wood.
“YOU BOUGHT AN ENTIRE PHOENIX?” Tubbo shouted furiously, whirling on Phil. “That’s slavery, Phil!”
“I didn’t—well obviously we’re not going to own him,” the man protested. “But he was being abused. We couldn’t just leave him there.”
Tubbo snorted, turning back to watch Tommy as he grabbed the last piece of wood and set it in the fire before leaning back to brush his hands off.
“What is he doing, anyway?”
“Building a fire,” Phil answered shortly. “He didn’t have one at the shop. Oh, mate—we’ve got a lighter if you want it.”
“No need,” Tommy responded, pushing himself to his feet. He shook out his arms and legs before taking a deep breath to calm his racing thoughts.
Was he actually going to help this family? He knew he was trusting them too quickly. He always had trouble knowing who to trust and when, but this time his instincts were screaming at him to have faith in them, and who was he to say no to his bird brain?
Tommy concentrated for a moment before a flame sparked at the tip of his finger and immediately lit the wood alight. He shuffled forward eagerly and the heat flowed over him as he breathed in the warm air. He waited a few seconds for the fire to grow larger before glancing behind him. The strangers were all staring at him in a mixture of awe and astonishment, and Tommy grinned proudly, turning back to the fire. He pulled one of his wings forward and breathed deeply before yanking out a feather. He twirled it between his fingers for a moment before tossing it toward the fire, where it fluttered to the bottom and burned until there were only ashes left. The bright orange flames turned a startling icy blue, and Tommy instantly dropped to his knees to crawl into the flames, ignoring the startled shouts from behind him. He curled up in the middle of the fire, welcoming the sweltering heat as he relaxed on top of the charred wood and allowed his thoughts to fade and his body to be turned to ash itself.
He wasn’t sure how long it took for his body to reform but when it had, he heard panicked shouting and people calling for a water bucket before he was suddenly drenched and shivering. He frowned at the people blinking down at him and created another spark that lit the fire once more, although this time it struggled to stay alight among the wet wood. Tommy took a moment for the heat to sink into his muscles before he crawled back out of the fire and stretched, glancing behind him to survey his new, flaming wings.
“Uh, Tommy—” Wilbur spoke hesitantly. “I don’t want to alarm you, but your wings are on fire.”
Tommy rolled his eyes.
“Did you just die?” Tubbo asked, his mouth hanging open. “What the fuck!”
“That was really dangerous!” Phil scolded him.
“I’m a phoenix!” Tommy protested hotly, sending them a glare. “We thrive in fire. And my wings are fine, fuck you,” he glanced pointedly at Wilbur. “They just take longer to heal.”
Tommy ignored their hushed whispers and waited for the flames to fade from his feathers. When they had, he ran a hand tentatively through his wings, relaxing slightly when none of the feathers fell out. There were still multiple holes where feathers should be, but a couple months, or possibly years, of healing would fix any damage. He still had hope that he might be able to fly again. The bright colors had also returned to his feathers and they glowed in the light of the fire, the deep reds and oranges easily catching the light. Tommy couldn’t help laughing in delight, spinning around to feel the wind wrap around them.
“They're beautiful,” Phil whispered, and Tommy tightened his wings around himself and gave the man a firm glare.
“They’re mine,” he hissed furiously, backing away from them. “Not yours.”
The man held up his hands. “I won’t go anywhere near them.”
Tommy stared at him for a moment longer before glancing back at his fire, which was still burning a bright blue. He moved toward it again and pulled out another feather before allowing it to settle in the fire. The color returned to a flickering red, and Tommy relaxed when it was no longer so hot. He didn’t really want to risk burning down their home. He straightened up once more and turned back to the family, his wings bristling slightly at the way they were staring at them. He shuffled uneasily at the attention and his eyes flicked around the room before returning to Phil’s.
“Your son,” he began quietly, shifting on his feet. “How sick is he?”
“Very,” Phil answered immediately. “He can’t move from his bed and he’s started to lose his memories. He’s an enderman hybrid and we think he might’ve eaten something that caused him to have a very bad allergic reaction.”
Tommy scoffed. “You don’t lose memories from an allergic reaction that quickly, I would know. He was probably cursed by a witch or something.”
Tommy turned back to his wings, skimming his hands over them before he reached the larger feathers. He closed his eyes tightly before yanking out two of them with a small hiss of pain. He took a step toward Phil and offered them to the older man.
“Two potions should do the trick,” he explained as the older man took them. “Don’t give him more than half a day, and I would probably recommend only a third. He should be good by the end of the week.”
“Thank you,” Phil quickly handed the feathers to Techno and the pink-haired man hurried to a side room. “We really appreciate it.”
Tommy waved him off, glancing curiously at the other boy. Tubbo stared back at him too, his eyes narrowed in thought. Tommy turned away when his wings began to twitch from the long eye contact and looked at the couch in front of the fire. It looked really comfortable.
“Hey, Tommy, right?” Tubbo’s voice called to him and the blond dipped his head. “Do you want me to preen your wings for you? It looks like you might need it.”
Tommy stiffened slightly before nodding again. Really, what could the boy do to him? In his experience, children were rarely the people pulling out his feathers.
“Come over to the couch, then,” the boy told him, and Tommy shuffled over, sinking to his knees to allow him to reach his feathers easier.
“Ranboo’s going to love having a new brother,” he rambled behind him as the phoenix slouched further and further into the couch. “He always says he needs somebody else to gang up on me with him.”
Tommy hummed softly, his wings fluttering when Tubbo straightened another feather that had been digging into his skin. He yawned widely and shot a glare in the direction of a muffled chuckle, his eyes drooping.
“Get some rest, mate,” a voice called to him. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”
Tommy knew his fire would remain blazing as well, and that thought probably calmed him more than anything. So he relaxed against Tubbo and rested his head on Wilbur’s shoulder when the idiot leaned against him, and he began to feel like maybe they weren’t going to steal his feathers after all.
Maybe he could finally be safe somewhere.