Archive of Our Own

Tommy held the knife to his chest, the tip just barely digging into his skin. The screams of the family he had just killed were ringing through his ears. He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves for what he knew he had to do. He deserved this, he deserved the pain and all that came with it.

His bright red wings were tense, their fiery colours glowing under the light of the morning sun. He didn’t deserve to see another, didn’t deserve to see the dawning of a new day. 

Another breath. Another lungful of air he didn’t deserve to breathe. 

Words spoken to Tommy so long ago once again made themselves known. 

(Tommy was ten at the time, his flight feathers having just barely come in. They were beautiful, bright oranges, reds, and yellows looking like they were constantly set alight. It made sense, after all, he was a phoenix. 

He ran after his friends, darting around the villagers that milled around the town square. As he ran though, he felt something inside of him change. The fire that took root inside of him was growing, pulsing like a second heartbeat. He doubled over as it burned his chest, his wings starting to glow like hot embers. 

The people started murmuring around him, their whispers barely reaching Tommy’s ears. The village had a high population, and as such, some were already kneeling, recognizing what was happening. 

Someone must have run to get one of the Elder’s because one was making his way to Tommy. He held a large wooden cane, carved with the feats he had gone through to earn his title. His bright red robes were swishing elegantly behind him. 

“She is calling you, little phoenix,” the Elder said ,kneeling next to him.

“What?” Tommy asked.

“Fire. She’s a living being, you know, protecting us with her warmth. And right now, she’s calling you, she has something to tell you.” 

“What is she saying? And why me?” Tommy asked, strained as the fire inside him burned brighter. 

“You are special, little phoenix, you have great things ahead of you. That is why she has chosen you. As for what she is saying, let’s find out, shall we?” the Elder said gently. He held out his hand for Tommy to take. 

He grasped it, his small hand being swallowed by the Elder’s larger one. 

Immediately, there was a shift in the fire inside of him. Ir raged beneath his skin, more lively than before. Where their hands were joined, Tommy felt the fire circulating between them. In what felt like a breath quickly escaping his lungs, the fire left them. It was now in front of them and taking the form of thick grey smoke. 

In the cloud, burning words slowly appeared. 

“Danger comes, burning through hope

All will be dead, but one will stand alone 

Again and again, they will know Death, their fates intertwined 

Alone, they will die for the last time” 

The Elder’s hand immediately let go of him, severing the connection. 

“She speaks through you,” the Elder had told him before addressing the crowd. “The hunters- they are coming for us. We need to prepare while we still can.” 

But it wasn’t enough. Three days later, phoenix hunters ravaged the village. Three days later, Tommy left his home for the final time, alone.)

“Please,” he whispered as he slowly pushed the knife deeper. “Let this be the last time.” 

He took another breath and plunged in the knife. He yanked it out, his knees buckling beneath him as he waited for Death to claim him. 

Black spots danced in his vision as blood flowed from his wound. When he closed his eyes, he hoped they wouldn’t open again. He pleaded with the stars in the sky and the fire inside of him that this was it. 

He let out a breath, air leaving him for the last time. 

Tommy opened his eyes, disappointed to be met with the sight of a darkening sky. He was still here, his soul still bound to the mortal plane. Part of him knew it was a foolish endeavor. Phoenixes could only die by old age or by a netherite weapon.

He slowly stood up, fluffing out his wings and shaking them to get rid of any lingering ash. His muscles felt sore and stiff and he knew it would be a few days till they felt normal. 

Although he was still alive, dying felt like his penance. His currency for getting close to people despite knowing the risks. 

How much blood was on his hands, how many people’s lives had ended prematurely because of him. He looked down at his hands, baby soft and clean, but he could see the layers of red that covered them. He could see the grime that coated them. 

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair how with every death, he came back with the scars of his sins washed away, the marks of his crimes gone. Replaced by fresh new skin, the physical reminders were gone. 

Looking up at the night sky, he plucked a feather from his wings, whispering the names of the family he had just killed and called on his fire to burn the feather in the last rites of a phoenix.

When a phoenix died, it was a grand event. They died loved, they usually died a hero. At the funeral, their ashes would be scattered or their body buried if they died of a weapon. 

Then, all the phoenix’s present would pluck a feather from their wings, whispering their name and burning it as a final send off, a final goodbye. 

Tommy had taken to doing it for every person he had killed. Out of respect, out of sorrow. In penance.

After that, Tommy vowed to never let anyone get close again. He was already used to being somewhat alone. This wouldn’t be much different. He travelled between villages and towns, never staying in one place for longer than strictly necessary. 

He avoided the things that would usually get people to offer him a place to stay. He learned to preen his own wings, stayed short with anyone who tried to stop him for small talk. Eventually, he started hiding his wings. 

Phoenix’s had a special connection to magic, and as such, people would see his fiery wings and treat him reverently. 

Being alone was harder than Tommy thought it would be. He would see children running to their parents, friends teasing each other, bakers and blacksmiths smiling warmly and chattering happily to their customers. 

Summer turned to fall and the loneliness only got worse. There was a wide gaping hole in his chest where his parents used to be, where all the people that had taken him in over the years had carefully patched up.

But now he only had himself. 

“Again and again, they will know Death, their fates intertwined 

Alone, they will die for the last time“

Alone. 

One cool October night, Tommy stared up at the skies and abruptly got out of his sleeping bag. 

He stretched out his wings, noting how dull they looked even under the low burning light of the fire he had made. He gave them a firm flap before running across the field he had made camp in. He flapped his wings behind him until he was able to jump and let his wings catch him. 

He flew up straight into the stars, his right hand extended as if to touch the sky. Once he broke through the clouds, he stopped, letting himself stay suspended in the vastness of the night for just a second before he folded his wings again. 

The night air whistled through his ears as he plummeted back to earth. 

He was out before he hit the sky for what was hopefully the last time.

It wasn’t the last time.

He woke up yet again. 

Tommy stood up, shaking the leftover ash from his wings. He had failed, again. The world deserved better than him, it deserved more than a pile of ash to be forgotten in the wind. A phoenix for whom fire never burned. 

Instead, he was one of probably only a handful of phoenixes left. 

In a way, Tommy knew he would never succeed. He was a phoenix afterall. But the prophecy would come true. And the prophecy stated he would die. He was just looking for that fatal blow, hoping to speed along the process. 

He walked forward, not really sure where he was going. He had no goal in mind, he was just a lost soul wandering the Earth. He didn’t even really want to survive, not really. There was nothing left for Tommy in this life, in any life really. 

When it got dark, Tommy collected sticks and small fallen over logs on auto-pilot, arranging them so the fire wouldn’t die out. 

When he was satisfied he called on his fire, holding his palm up to the wood. Once one of the logs caught fire he genty rearranged the wood around it so it wouldn’t go out and sat down. In theory, he could just keep the fire going with just his powers, but it was better to leave it going on its own. 

(“Do you know that fire is alive, Tommy?” his mother asked. She was standing in front of the stove, stirring a large pot with soup. 

“It is?” Tommy asked from where he was sat on the counter. 

His mom nodded, “its not alive in the same way you and I are, but she’s a spirit. If you call on her, she’ll come. Usually, we have to take care of her, but sometimes she does as she pleases.” 

“Woah,” Tommy breathed. He held out his hand in front of him and started a small fire the way he had been taught too. “Hello, Miss. Fire, how are you?” 

His mom laughed gently and put the spoon on top of the pot before she walked over and picked Tommy up, resting him on her hip. 

“She doesn’t usually answer like that, Toms,” she said fondly. “But everytime you call her and she comes, remember that she’s looking out for you. Isn’t that right?” she asked, turning to her own hand. The small fire grew larger for a second as if agreeing. 

Tommy just stared, wide eyed at the fire in his mom’s hand. That was so cool.) 

Tommy went to the nearby forest with his dagger and net in hand. When he found a river, he waded in until he was about knee deep in the water. The river had a heavy current, which was perfect for catching fish. 

By the time he finished, he had four fish. They were small and looked to be decently bony, but he would take it. 

When he got to the fire, he fashioned a small spit out of some sturdy looking sticks he had found and set the fish to cook over them. 

He leaned back, his eyes facing the darkened sky. The sun hadn’t quite set, but it was dark enough that some of the stars were starting to peek through. Tommy sighed, it was lonely out here. But he couldn’t go back to the way it was, the way it used to be. With a village and people who loved him. Small homes of kind people, friends made in unlikely places. 

He was alone, it was his destiny. To be a lone fire in a forest, burning himself out till the only signs he had been there were the charred trees and burnt corpses of dead animals. 

The days grew colder, the night longer. Winter was coming and in the past, Tommy had owned large thick cloaks to protect himself from the weather. But one day, he had met a traveller freezing in the night. He had helped him, made him a small fire, left him a bow and a quiver of arrows. The cloak had gone to him too. 

Tommy didn’t regret it. At the time, he had been travelling for nearly a week from the direction the stranger was heading and hadn’t seen any villages. He didn’t need the bow,but the cloak was a great loss . He had hoped to buy a new one in the next village and would rely on his fire to keep him warm. But at some point the prices of cloaks had skyrocketed. Tommy couldn’t justify buying a new one. 

He really needed one soon though. Even his phoenix fire wouldn’t be enough to keep him warm in the middle of winter.

The next few weeks were some of the hardest Tommy had ever gone through. Since he had vowed himself not to get attached, he only stayed in one town for a few days at most, but usually he would dip by sundown. 

He was clingy, craved the presence of others. He wanted their warmth and gentle smiles. Wanted their loud, rambunctious laughter. But no more, never again. He refused to be the reason another grave was dug, another home sold by reluctant hands, an early inheritance passed down. He refused. 

But by leaving so quickly, he was earning much less than he was used to. He had managed to buy a cloak at some point and got a blacksmith to sharpen his dagger. He could afford the occasional loaf of bread and meat from the bakers and butchers. It was barely enough, but it would have to be. 

Snow grew around his feet as he travelled. The cold had really set in this time. Rivers were half frozen, ponds looked like solid earth until he fell flat on his back. Most of the animals Tommy hunted went into hibernation, the trees were bare of their leaves. 

He was miserable, hungry, cold, and tired. 

His breath was visible at every huff. Even letting his wings gently smolder beneath his cloak wasn’t enough to keep him warm. 

It was a few days later that Tommy layed down and let the cold overtake him, asking the stars above to take his soul and let it rest amongst them. 

It didn’t work. It never worked. 

It became a semi-regular occurrence. Letting the earth try and claim his body, offering out his soul to Death’s sweet embrace. She refused everytime. Some days, he would fly up and let himself fall like he did all those weeks ago, other times, he was simply too tired to continue. 

The cold only became more bitter, the wind harsher. The sun was a rare treat; visible for only a handful of hours at a time, often  hiding behind the clouds. The days it peeked out were the days Tommy felt brightest. The days he felt hope ignited for spring to arrive. 

It didn’t, of course, winter felt eternal. 

Tommy was freshly revived, the fresh wave of energy that came with it still going strong. He was stumbling through the forest looking for a small cave to take camp in for the night when he found a small campsite. 

He was about to leave when he heard the rattling of someone breathing from within the tent.

That wasn’t good. Slowly, he approached the tent, weapon drawn in case they got hostile.

“Hello?” he called tentatively. 

“ Hello? ” a raspy voice responded before descending into a coughing fit. 

“I’m coming in. Is that all right?” Tommy asked. 

“I guess,” the voice wheezed back. 

Tommy carefully unfurled the flap of the tent and was met with a sight that made his stomach sink. 

They were tucked into their sleeping bag, their skin a stark white with their cheeks a bright red. Their grey eyes were glass and unfocused. To Tommy’s horror, he realized that their lips were tinted a light blue. 

“Are you alright? I mean, obviously not. But like-” Tommy said, his heart rate picking up. 

They coughed. “Probably not. I mean, I’m pretty sure this is hypothermia.”

Tommy removed his cloak and draped it over his figure. 

“Right, well, you’re lucky I’m here then. You’re not dying.” 

“I- thanks?” the stranger said, sounding confused. 

“I don’t think you want to hear this, but you’ve got maybe a few more days on your own. Actually, is anyone with you? Are they out getting food or something?” Tommy asked, looking around, as if expecting someone to pop out of nowhere. 

They shook their head. “It’s just me,” they wheezed. 

Tommy took a breath. “Okay. That’s fine. I can work with that. First order of business is warming you up, I suppose.” 

He stretched out his wings slightly and started letting them smolder. Immediately, the tent’s temperature jumped a significant amount. 

“You’re a phoenix?” they asked. 

“The name’s Tommy,” he said with a grin. 

“Ranboo. I’m a magpie,” Ranboo said, holding out a hand. 

“Nice to meet you,” Tommy said, taking it with a smile. 

Tommy built up the measly fire Ranboo had made outside the tent. It wasn’t awful, clearly done in a rush. He rearranged the wood, tossed in a few new branches and summoned some fire in his palm and held it out to the wood. 

Once he was satisfied, he looked around the camp and found some dead fish sitting in a snowbank that Ranboo had clearly left out. He put them over the fire before going to check on Ranboo. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, putting a hand on Ranboo’s forehead. 

“Not great,” Ranboo said, leaning briefly into Tommy’s warm hand. 

“Right then, what do you have in your bag? Is there anything I can use?” Tommy asked. 

“You can go through it if you want,” Ranboo offered.

Tommy pursed his lips. “You sure?” 

“Positive. Like you said, I’m as good as dead. Worst case scenario is you steal from me and leave me in the same situation you found me in, best case is somehow you help me and I get home,” he said with a weak chuckle. 

“Well, aren’t you mister sunshine,” Tommy said sarcastically as he carefully opened Ranboo’s bag. 

“You said it first,” Ranboo protested. 

“Touché.” 

Tommy took out some clothes, a loaf of bread that was either frozen or stale before finding a few glass bottles wrapped in cloth. Curiosity piqued, he dug deeper and pulled out a few pouches of potion ingredients. 

“You just got so lucky,” Tommy exclaimed. 

“But I only have some base ingredients. There’s nothing actually useful,” Ranboo told him sadly. 

“I only need the base ingredients. I’m a phoenix, remember?” Tommy told him. 

All of a sudden, Ranboo looked nervous. He shrunk in on himself, his eyes flitting around the small tend.

“Tommy, I don’t know much about phoenixes, but I know your feathers are pretty important to you guys. Are you sure you’re okay with using yours for healing potions?” he asked. 

“Ranboo, I appreciate the concern. But believe me when I say I’m happy to do this, you clearly need help and there isn’t anyone other than me,” Tommy told him. 

“If you’re sure,” Ranboo conceded.

“I am.” 

Tommy walked out of the tent with the potion supplies and carefully filled three bottles with snow. Usually one would need a brewing stand to make them because it stabilized everything. The blaze powder needed to be carefully infused with the rest of the ingredients, being slowly added since it was so reactive, but Tommy had experience doing it without one. 

He set the bottles and went back to grab something from his own bag when he tripped. His wings snapped out, trying to catch the wind, but unfortunately they were too slow. His stomach hit something hard and flat. 

“Ugh,” he groaned. He sat up in the snow and found the cause of his fall. A wire cooking rack. Bingo. 

He once again rearranged the fire, this time making it low enough that the rack easily fit over the flames.

He set the glass bottles on top of it and watched as the snow slowly melted into water. Once it was done, he pulled out a jar of netherwart and a blaze rod. 

“Ranboo, do you know if you have any funnels?” Tommy asked, pulling out a few containers of ground potion ingredients. Unfortunately, it seemed he only had full blaze rods on him rather than the pre-ground powder. 

“I think so,” Ranboo responded weakly. 

“Sweet. Thank you,” Tommy said, digging more thoroughly through the bag. 

Then his hand landed on a large, smooth surface. He carefully pulled it out and found a large jar with a cork top and small spigot. He picked up one of the spare glass bottles he had set down earlier and compared their sizes. 

“How many bottles do you think would fit in here?” Tommy asked, holding them up to Ranboo side by side. 

“Maybe a little under four,”  Ranboo responded, squinting at the bottles in Tommy’s hand. 

“Perfect.”

Tommy went out and poured the three bottles of water into the jar, and, sure enough, it fit with room to spare. That made his job much easier. Now, rather than splitting his ingredients into thirds, he could just add in however much he would need at once.

He dropped the netherwart in, pulled out his pocket knife, and cut the blaze rods into thirds. He put the other two thirds back in the bag and started slowly scraping away at the first one.

Usually, blaze rods were ground into a fine powder, being milled with a few heat suppressing ingredients mixed in to make it safer. The downside to that method was potions made from it were usually weaker. For an at home potion maker or for an apothecary it worked perfectly fine, but right now, Tommy didn’t have access to anything that could grind the blaze rods fast enough nor any of the heat suppressants. However, with how sickly Ranboo was, it was probably for the better. 

Tommy scraped away until about a third of the piece was gone, then he examined his wings and found a bright red feather before carefully plucking it. He winced a little, but he was well past the point it would bleed. He shook off any blaze powder that clung to the edges of the funnel and took it off, carefully dropping in his feather. 

The potion started reacting immediately. Bubbling as the acid from the netherwart ate away at the feather, it smoked as it dissolved. 

Tommy replaced the funnel and experimentally scraped in more blazer powder. As soon as it touched the liquidm a small pop was heard and a small cloud of angry grey smoke puffed out. 

Tommy grimaced. Too soon. He would need to be more careful. Phoenix feathers were the most volatile potion ingredients, even when using a brewing stand, one usually had to be extra cautious around them, being without one right now was dangerous.  

The potion kept bubbling, at one point, a small layer of foam started forming on top, but eventually it slowed down a bit. When it did, Tommy scraped a little bit of blaze powder into the funnel, sighing with relief when it barely reacted.

Soon, Tommy found a steady rhythm, carefully adding the blaze powder in, bit my bit. Once another third was gone, he pulled out a small container of a luminescent gold powder. Glowstone dust. He didn’t have anything to measure it, so he carefully eyeballed it. 

Once he was sure he had enough, he waited a little longer to start adding the last bit of blaze rod into it. He knew he probably could have ground it using some rocks, but scraping it in this way helped him be careful of how much he was adding. He had experienced more than a few explosions during his time making them, and adding in pinches of powder rather than small scrapes would have certainly caused more damage. 

When he got to the last nub of the blaze rod, he took the knife and carefully crushed the remains of the rod with the flat side of the blade. The resulting chunks were still a little big but since it  was the end of the potion, he figured it would be safe enough. 

The end took longer since he was adding the chunks much slower, but eventually it was all in the jar. He quickly corked it and let the potion bubble a little more before he poured it into the original three glass bottles. 

He set them in the snow to cool off and went to check on Ranboo. 

“You feeling any better, man?” Tommy asked, holding the back of his hand to Ranboo’s forehead. 

“A little, I think. I’m feeling kinda hungry too, so if you could pass me something from my bag…” he admitted sheepishly. 

“I have some fish cooking actually,” Tommy said, smiling. He walked out of the tent, picking up two plates that Ranboo had left at the edge of the tent. Once he got outside, he pulled out his knife, summoning fire into the blade until it was a bright orange, sterilizing it. He then plucked out two of the fish he had been cooking and once he made sure they were done, he put them on the plates and handed one to Ranboo. 

Ranboo thanked him quietly and eagerly dug into the fish. Tommy laughed, raising a teasing eyebrow and asked, “Hungry, were we?” 

Ranboo’s fever flushed cheeks pinked even more as he muttered, “Shut up.” 

Tommy laughed harder but went back to his own food. Once he was done, he went and picked up one of the now-cooled bottles of bright red potion. 

He walked back into the tent and uncorked it. 

“This is a health potion made with phoenix feather and fresh ground blaze rods. What that means is that it’s a lot more potent than a normal health potion. Drink this in small sips and if you start to feel any burning or nausea, stop immediately. Ideally you finish this over the course of a few hours,” Tommy explained. 

Ranboo nodded and accepted the potion, holding it up to his lips, pausing before taking his first sip. 

As soon as it touched his tongue he sputtered, coughing violently. 

“Pretty strong, huh?” Tommy said with a grin. 

“You could say that again,” Ranboo said, wiping his mouth. He held the bottle in front of him and moved it closer to his mouth before pausing and moving it further away again. He closed his eyes and pulled it back to his mouth, taking a proper sip grimacing as it went down and re-corked the bottle. 

“At least I won’t drink too much of it,” Ranboo offered sheepishly.

Tommy chuckled, sending Ranboo a small smile. 

The next few days passed in an easy rhythm. Tommy always shoving food and bottles of freshly melted snow at Ranboo while he hunted and cooked for them. At one point, he lucked out and found a patch of sweet berries and practically shoved them towards Ranboo. He had been worried that the magpie would get scurvy, but that fear was thankfully quelled. 

“Tommy?” Ranboo said hesitantly one day over dinner. 

“Yeah?” Tommy said, looking at him. 

“I’m feeling a lot better now,” Ranboo started slowly. 

And it was true. His cough was nearly gone and his skin was only slightly paler than Tommy imagined his natural color to be; the red flush was completely gone.

“I think I need to start getting ready to go home.” 

“I’m going with you,” Tommy said without thinking. 

“Huh?!” 

“Listen, Ranboo. You got yourself sick once, your body’s still weak, and it would be so easy for you to get sick again. Even if you were in tip-top health, I would feel more comfortable knowing you got home safe,” Tommy explained. 

The rational part of his mind was yelling at him that he shouldn’t go with Ranboo, that he was breaking the promise he had made to himself. If he got close, Ranboo would die, but he reasoned that he was only dropping him off at home. As soon as Tommy watched Ranboo walk into the door of his house, he would leave. 

Ranboo bit his lip. “Don’t you have anywhere to be?” he asked tentatively. 

“I’m what the people call a vagabond,” Tommy said with a cheeky smile. 

“If you don’t mind… I really wouldn’t want to force you into doing something you don’t want to do,” Ranboo conceded.

“Ranboo, I offered ,” Tommy emphasized. 

“I know, but still.” 

“Don’t worry. I’m more than happy to take you home. I would be more stressed if I let you go alone,” Tommy assured him. 

“Alright,” Ranboo said with a sigh, then he looked back up at Tommy, an excited grin on his face.“When do we leave?” 

“Not for a few more days. I want to make sure you’re as recovered as possible before we go,” Tommy said. 

Ranboo groaned, but Tommy saw the playful smile tugging at his lips and only laughed. 

The next few days consisted of Tommy slowly taking down the campsite; cleaning the dishes, carefully packing away the potion ingredients, and other tasks. Ranboo tried to help but everytime he tried Tommy just shoved him back into the tent. 

“Let me preen your wings at least?” Ranboo offered on their last night. They were set to leave as soon as they woke up the following morning. “You’ve been doing so much for me this past week and I haven't been able to pay you back. Let me do this one thing for you.” 

Tommy pursed his lips, but eventually conceded. He stood up at Ranboo’s instruction and let him make a small nest using the mess of blankets, towels and sleeping bags that covered the floor. When he was allowed to sit, Ranboo pulled him closer and quickly started going through his feathers. His long fingers were gentle as they rearranged the plumage so it rested more comfortably on Tommy’s back. 

He couldn’t help the sigh that fell from his lips as Ranboo gently ran his fingers through his wings. It had been so long since he had preened his wings, let alone allow someone else to preen them. Ranboo gently rubbed dirt and grime away from the feathers, moving them around so the barbs locked together more comfortably and gently pulled away old feathers still trapped in place.

It didn’t take long for Tommy to fall boneless against Ranboo, grateful for the pillow the magpie had shoved into his lap. He was vaguely aware of the way that his wings had started smoldering, burning like the dying embers of a fire. He didn’t worry too much about Ranboo getting burned since he knew that when wings were activated by preening, it never got hot enough to hurt. 

Warmth flooded through his body, bones turning to molasses as he laid there, getting preened. It didn't take long for sleep to claim him, for dreams to snatch him from the waking worlds and cradle him in their soft promises of comfort and love. 

He woke up to the light streaming through the tent from an open flap. He sat up slowly, not remembering falling asleep. Looking around he saw Ranboo wrapped tightly in his sleeping bag still snoring away. 

Guilt burned in his chest. Usually, Tommy would take his sleeping bag and settle himself in a tree branch, like he had been doing for as long as he could remember. He shouldn't have fallen asleep like that; forcing Ranboo to share his space. 

Tommy slowly stood up, intent on starting on breakfast so they could vacate the small temporary camp before the sun hit noon. 

“Tommy?” Ranboo mumbled groggily. 

“Hi, Ranboo,” Tommy responded quietly.  “Sorry about last night.” 

Ranboo shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep here,” Tommy protested softly, not wanting to disturb Ranboo in his half-asleep state. 

“I’ve hated the way you sleep outside. I let it happen in the beginning since I was sick and didn’t want to get you sick too.  But I think from here on out, you should take the tent with me,” Ranboo told him firmly. 

No. No . This was how Tommy got attached, how he started trusting people. This was how Tommy got people killed.

Tommy shook his head. “This is a small tent. You need space,” he said with a slight edge to his voice. 

“We’ll discuss this later tonight,” Ranboo said, standing up and shaking off his wings a bit.  “What needs to be done before we leave?” 

Tommy let the topic drop, knowing full well he wouldn’t be sharing the tent. He walked out of the tent, Ranboo following behind him.

“We need to take down the tent and then repack all the cooking stuff and leftover food. Then we’re good to go,” he said, nodding to where he had left some food chilling overnight. That was the one nice thing about travelling in the winter; food didn’t go bad so long as you left it in snow. 

“Got it,” Ranboo said, moving to take down the tent. 

Tommy quickly grabbed one of the raw fish and put it over the fire. He closed his eyes and held a palm out to the fire, willing it to grow. He felt when the flames jumped up a bit. Satisfied, he opened his eyes and added a little more kindling before going to help Ranboo take down the tent. 

Once it was taken down,  he split the now-cooked fish in two with his knife and sterilized both the knife and the cooking rack. Once they cooled down, he repocketed the knife and put the cooking rack in Ranboo’s bag. 

Finally, he attached the tent to the top of his bag and handed Ranboo his own bag. 

“I still think you should let me carry the tent,” Ranboo said as he shouldered his bag. 

“You’re still not fully recovered from your hypothermia. You won’t be until you spend a few days in a warm house with proper food and rest. And anyhow, we agreed that we’ll switch off the tent every other day. Your turn is tomorrow,” Tommy reminded him. 

Initially, Tommy didn’t want Ranboo to carry the tent at all, but he had given up when Ranboo had insisted. They had reached a compromise: they would switch off every other day unless Ranboo started displaying any signs of being sick again. 

“Which way to your home again?” Tommy asked after scattering the firewood they had used. 

Ranboo pulled out a compass with a familiar shining glow and flipped it open.

“That way,” he said, pointing north. 

“Alright. Let’s go.” 

At first, the trek was awkward. Tommy led since he had more experience navigating through the terrain, but Ranboo would occasionally tell him to adjust his direction. Otherwise, no words were exchanged. 

Tommy was used to silence. Used to the wind being his only companion, used to the trees being nothing more than silent spectators as he drifted through the forest. But he wasn’t used to the quiet when there were people with him. 

The promised five-day journey already felt longer than anything Tommy had done. They could probably fly there in three, but it was too risky. 

“Tell me about yourself,” Tommy prompted when the evening sun had started sinking behind the horizon. 

They had stopped for a brief lunch of cold fish Tommy heated up without complaint but aside from that, neither of them had said anything. 

“I- okay,” Ranboo said, sounding startled. “What do you want to know?” 

“Anything.” 

In the next hour, Tommy learned a lot about Ranboo. He learned about Ranboo’s ‘rag-tag little family’ as he called it. His parents had died in a raid when he was younger and a man named Phil had taken him in. He wasn’t the first kid Phil adopted, nor was he the last. The oldest two were twins, Techno, who was a vulture, and Wilbur who was a barn owl. Next was Ranboo, and then came along Tubbo, who was a starling. 

The five of them lived on a farmhouse just on the outskirts of their village which had a mostly avian population. They all worked on the farm at least a little. Phil and Techno were the main caretakers of the crops while Ranboo tended mostly to the livestock and Wilbur took most of their crops to the village to sell it. Tubbo ran a small repair shop on the farm and had a few beehives that he took care of in the warmer months. 

As Ranboo described the antics his adoptive family got up too, Tommy couldn’t help the longing that went through his chest. It sounded so perfect, so cozy. He desperately wished he could have something half as good as that. But Tommy knew better. 

He refused to ruin the life Ranboo and his family had built up. He refused. As soon as he saw to it that Ranboo was safe, he would leave. He could never forgive himself if he ruined something so good, not for people who had already gone through so much. 

Eventually, it got too dark for them to go on safely and they started setting up camp. 

They made the tent and collected wood for the fire. 

“You always want to make sure when you start a fire, that the flame will have access to kindling and oxygen,” Tommy explained as he carefully arranged the wood. “Ideally, you shelter it from the strong north wind. Both to keep it alive and to make sure you don’t set fire to the rest of the forest.” 

Ranboo nodded, following Tommy’s lead and adding more kindling around the tower of logs. 

They pulled out the cold fish that Tommy had cooked yesterday and put them over the fire to warm them up. Tommy could just hold them in his hands and warm them up that way, but it tasted better to heat them up over the fire. They needed the warmth anyway. 

“Do you know that fire is alive?” Tommy asked suddenly as he tossed in another log. 

“Huh?” Ranboo asked. 

“She’s alive. Her spirit flows through the earth,” Tommy explained. He didn’t know why it suddenly felt important to him to. 

When Ranboo looked at him confused, Tommy summoned flame to his palm. 

“Fire is alive. She looks after us. She’s power, she’s beauty. Phoenixes have a special connection to her. Her spirit lives in all of us, but in phoenixes most of all. It’s her fire that burns through my veins, her fire that burns brightly on my feathers, that lives in a blazing forest and warms up cold travellers as they sleep, ” Tommy said as he stood up. He spread his wings and called on the fire that lived inside him like a second heart. 

His wings grew hot, the feathers eagerly catching on and burning brightly. 

Ranboo stood up. “She’s beautiful,” he breathed. 

“She is, isn’t she?” Tommy said quietly. 

“Wait, you said that she’s in all of us? Not just phoenixes?” Ranboo asked suddenly, his brow furrowing.

“She is. Non-phoenixes can’t get anywhere near as strong or as good of a fire, but she’s there, watching, waiting. If you want, I can teach you to summon her,” Tommy offered. 

“Really?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah.”  

Ranboo took a breath and nodded, his eyes determined. 

Tommy took Ranboo’s hands between both of his.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered, already closing his own. 

Tommy felt for the fire inside of him, carefully letting it start to flow between him and Ranboo. Part of him screamed that this was a bad idea. That this would lead to Tommy getting attached to Ranboo. But he could hear the way the fire inside of him was screaming for his new friend; this stranger. 

“Is- is that her?” Ranboo asked, gasping. 

“It is,” Tommy confirmed. “Since you’re not a phoenix, you can’t summon her all the time and it’s much more difficult for you. I don’t think you can get a flame yet, but remember how she feels so when the time comes, you can. You have her, remember to be careful with her. She is as cruel as she is kind, as angry as she is gentle. Don’t upset her.” 

“I won’t,” Ranboo promised.

When the night came, Tommy begrudgingly got in the tent with Ranboo. He had to admit, it was much cozier in the tent than it was in the trees. It wasn’t something he would ordinarily allow himself, but Ranboo had seen him climbing the tree and had just plucked Tommy off the trunk and set him on the ground in front of the tent. 

Tall freak. 

Ranboo had even insisted that Tommy take half the blankets even though Tommy was a literal phoenix.

He had to admit though, it was quite nice not to be alone while he slept. 

The days passed smoothly. On day three, Ranboo admitted he had overestimated himself and it would probably be over a week before they reached his home. 

Tommy took it in stride, making sure to hunt a little more, keep a closer eye on Ranboo. He was recovering well. Only small, scattered coughing fits throughout the day and a little more tired than he should be. 

As they walked, there was no longer that awkward tension that had been there on their first day. Now between the long stretches of silence, were bouts of easy banter. Ranboo told Tommy more about himself, about the people he called family. And, in turn, Tommy told Ranboo about phoenixes. 

As a species, they were full of mysticism. Enchanted weapons were a creation of phoenixes. The compass Ranboo used to navigate home was the same thing Tommy’s mother had made for his neighbor as a kid. It would always point in the direction of home, no matter how far you went. 

Tommy never shared much from his personal life. Ranboo never pressed, simply dropping the topic whenever he asked a personal question that made Tommy pause. 

That didn't last, of course. It was the sixth day of their journey when Ranboo finally decided to push. 

“Tell me about yourself, Tommy,” he started after having turned off the small lamp they had in the tent. “I’ve told you all about me and my family. But I’ve only ever heard things about phoenixes from you. And don’t get me wrong, it’s really cool, but I want to know about the kind of person you are.” 

Tommy paused, not sure how to answer. If he was honest, it might drive Ranboo away from him. But he couldn’t even think of a lie to tell Ranboo. He had no idea what a normal life was supposed to look like, he hadn’t since he had gotten his village massacred. 

His eyes stared up at the white tent above him, searching for the words he needed. 

“I’ve been alone for a long time,” he said finally. “I’ve seen a lot. There were good times, laughter, light, hope. But there’s been a lot of bad too. Sometimes I feel like the world is crumbling beneath my feet, like I’m one step away from disaster. It’s better this way though. No one gets hurt,” he finished with a whisper. 

“What do you mean by ‘no one gets hurt’?” Ranboo asked tentatively. 

Tommy took a breath. “Ranboo, I need you to promise me something.” 

“Yeah..?” 

“No matter what I tell you, "You'll let me take you home, then you'll forget about me" .” 

“I- yeah. Tommy, what’s going on?” 

Tommy felt tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. Memories of all those he had killed flashing through his mind’s eye. 

“I got a prophecy when I was younger, about how I was destined to die alone for the final time. I didn’t really think much of it at the time. Three days later, my village burned down. Since then, I’ve been on the run. Every time I’ve tried to settle down, build a new life, the people that let me tag along have died. I killed them,” he said, his voice thick. 

He couldn’t cry, he shouldn’t cry. He didn’t deserve to mourn them when he was the person who had caused their death. 

“What do you mean you killed them?” Ranboo asked. 

“Hunters would usually show up. One family drowned while they took me to the lake for a day. On time, this old man took me in and we were hunting and someone shot him accidentally ‘cause he thought he was an animal.” 

“How are you a killer then?” Ranboo said, sounding thoroughly confused. 

“Death follows me. She lays hands on anyone who I get too attached to,” Tommy said darkly. 

“Tommy, you aren’t a killer,” Ranboo told him incredulously. 

“Oh yeah? Then why have so many people died because of me?” Tommy demanded.

“Bad luck. Awful luck. But it doesn’t change the fact that you deserve people to be around,” Ranboo soothed. 

“Oh? Why? So I can cause someone else to die?” Tommy snarked. 

“No, so you can learn to love yourself. I knew someone like you. He had a lot of unfortunate things happen to him and he thought he was the scum of the earth. He hated himself. However, he was one of the best people I knew. Sweet and selfless, wanting to do right by everyone he came across. He knew how to light up a room. A lot like you. I think you would have gotten along with him,” Ranboo said softly.

“What happened to him?” Tommy asked hesitantly, ignoring the last part. 

“He killed himself,” Ranboo told him plainly. 

A weight settled on the atmosphere of the tent. No one… no one deserved that. Tommy could see it in Ranboo’s eyes how much he loved his friend. The way he talked about him made him seem amazing, and Tommy could tell Ranboo wasn’t lying, if anything he was under-describing what his friend had been like. 

“I- I’ve tried,” he admitted quietly. 

“What?” Ranboo asked softly, horrified. 

“To kill myself. A few times actually. The only reason I’m still here is cause phoenixes can’t die like that,” Tommy whispered bitterly, tears now flowing freely from his eyes. 

“Oh, Toms,” Ranboo said, untangling himself from the blankets he had tucked around himself and launching himself at Tommy. 

Tommy wrapped his arms tightly around the magpie, tucking himself under his chin. 

“I don’t deserve to live,” he cried softly. “Not when I’m the reason so many people are dead.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Ranboo murmured, pulling him closer. 

“It is, though! If they hadn’t met me, they would still be alive.”

Ranboo shook his head. “I know it feels that way. But, Toms, avian hunters kill so many people. I know so many of Phil’s friends have died. Hunter killings aren't rare. So it’s not on you, not at all,” Ranboo whispered fiercely. 

“But-” 

“They weren’t your fault. Bad things can happen to good people,” Ranboo interjected. 

Tommy tightened his hold. The words didn't make sense to him, he doubted they ever would. But some desperate part of him wanted to believe it. He wanted the words to be true, he wanted to not be a killer. But he couldn’t, not yet at least. Maybe one day he could. 

His sobs soon gave a way to sniffles. Ranboo carefully pulled him to his side of the tent, wrapping him tightly in the blankets before crawling in next to him. 

“Sleep, Toms, we’ll talk more in the morning,” he whispered. 

“For your friend,” Tommy said quietly the next evening, handing Ranboo a phoenix feather. 

The two had been walking all day and had just finished setting up camp. Several times, Ranboo had tried to talk to Tommy about what had been said last night, but Tommy was good at avoiding the conversation and dodging the questions. The few times Ranboo had been able to successfully broach the topic, Tommy had expertly switched the conversation.

"What do you mean?" Ranboo asked, looking confused.

"When a phoenix, or anyone close to a phoenix, dies, we all burn a feather in their honour. As they burn, we say their names and any well wishes we have for them," Tommy explained shyly. "If you don't want to though, I completely understand," he added in a rush. 

"Oh Tommy," Ranboo said softly, tears gathering in his eyes as he pulled Tommy in for a hug. "Thank you."

“It’s the least I could do,” Tommy said, his face turning bright red. 

Ranaboo shook his head as he pulled Tommy into his chest. “You’re so good . I don’t understand how you’ve gone through so much, and yet you keep going like that.” 

Tommy broke the hug, turning away from Ranboo, his arms wrapping around himself, wings hiked up as he hunched his back. 

“I’m not good though. I’ve done so many bad things, I’ve hurt so many people. The least I can do is try and make life better for anyone I meet from here on,” he whispered.

“Tommy,” Ranboo murmured, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “you carry so much. But you don’t need to. You’re good, and I know after a life like yours, it must be difficult to believe it. But trust me. People like you only come around once every few lifetimes.” 

Tommy shook his head, shrinking on himself. Ranboo looked at him, his face shifting through various expressions as though he was looking for what to say. Tommy knew the gist of it, that he wasnt at fault, that he was allowed to live, that he deserved a proper home and people to care about him. He had already heard it all before, both from Ranboo himself as well as all the other people he had ever talked to.

“Let’s start the funeral,” Tommy said suddenly, not wanting to give Ranboo a chance to find the words. 

“How does it work?” Ranboo asked.

Tommy expanded his wing, carefully searching through the feathers till he found one he liked. It was a short bright red feather, nothing like the long red one he had handed Ranboo. 

“The people closest to the deceased burn primaries, going down in order to secondary and tertiary feathers. You could have the entire funeral be primary feathers, or everyone burn tertiary if it was someone you found dead and wanted to give them a proper burial,” Tommy explained. 

Ranboo nodded, running the feather between two pinched fingers. It was rough, flecks of dirt scattered on it, the layer of oil that kept the wings shiny and healthy feeling more like a layer of grime. His heart panged, he knew Tommy needed so much, but it wasn’t anything Ranboo was really able to give. 

“Come with me,” Tommy said, walking out of the clearing. 

He led them over a rough patch of terrain until they reached the top of a tall hill. In front of them lay the setting sun, its blazing light painting the sky in bright fiery colours as it sunk behind the horizon. 

“You say their name, wish them well, say goodbye, and burn the feather,” Tommy told him. “Since you knew him, you start it and then I go after you.” 

Ranboo took a deep breath and looked at the feather in his hand. “Cole, you were one of the best people I knew. I miss you everyday. You meant so much to me and I hope that wherever you are, you’re happy now,” he said, choking up on the words. 

“Summon her- fire. She’ll come to you now,” Tommy encouraged. 

Ranboo nodded and felt inside of him for the fire Tommy had shown him yesterday. He found it with a bit of a struggle and focused on the tip of the feather. A spark lit and suddenly, a small fire was consuming the red plume. 

“Goodbye, Cole. I’m sorry for what happened,” Tommy whispered, his own feather catching fire at its tip. 

Ranboo suddenly felt a presence behind him. He knew, deep inside of him, that it was Cole. 

When the feathers were gone and the sky beyond them was dark, Ranboo turned and collapsed into Tommy’s arms. He caught the taller avian easier, murmuring comforts in his ears as he guided him back to camp, piling the blankets around them. 

Tommy woke up before the sun rose the next day. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence for him. If he were alone, he would just pack up and leave, lighting a small torch to guide him through the still dark forest. But since he had Ranboo, he decided to go look for food. 

The forest was eerily quiet. The nocturnal animals were settling in to sleep for the day, while the day time animals were just barely starting to wake up. The only animals that were fully awake were the birds. 

That was fine, though. Tommy wasn’t interested in hunting and he just wanted to find some berries. 

When he had a good amount, he went back to camp and found Ranboo nervously pacing around the dead campfire from last night. 

“Tommy!” he cried when he saw him. 

“Ranboo?” Tommy asked, confused as Ranboo pulled him into a hug. 

“I thought you left me. Or that you had gotten hurt,” Ranboo said. 

“Sorry, I just figured I should get us more food,” Tommy reassured him, quickly reciprocating the hug. 

“Leave a note next time, yeah?”: Ranboo said with a chuckle. 

“Will do, big man,” Tommy said with a mock salute. 

They kept walking, their breaks getting shorter as Ranboo kept getting better. Finally, after a week of travel, they reached the village Ranboo called home. 

Tommy had to admit, it was a lovely little place. The town square had a bunch of shops, a bakery, a teeny courthouse, and a town hall. There was also a florist, and a blacksmith. 

All around, people milled about,  and the laughter from the kids echoed off the buildings. People saw them and greeted Ranboo eagerly. Some young kids even came up and Ranboo held his hand by his chest as they jumped up for high-fives. 

“Let’s go to the family stall first,” Ranboo said, dragging Tommy through the crowd. He pulled Tommy to a small stall that had buckets of sweet berries and potatoes. Running the stall was a man with fluffy brown hair and a long brown trench coat. 

“Ranboo?!” he called as soon as he caught sight of him. 

“Wilbur!” Ranboo called back, running to him. 

The man slipped out of the stall and pulled Ranboo into a tight hug. 

“We’ve been so worried about you! Techno was about to go and start looking for you.” 

“Yeah, well, this idiot got sick,” Tommy said, butting in, playfully elbowing Ranboo in the ribs. 

“And who might you be?” Wilbur asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“This is Tommy-” 

“I’m the guy who had to nurse him back to health-” they said at the same time. 

Wilbur just smiled, shaking his head fondly. “Right then, why don’t we get you two back to the farm?” 

“It’s barely mid-afternoon. I couldn’t ask you to leave the stall,” Ranboo said, shaking his head. 

“Good thing you’re not asking then, huh?” Wilbur said, flipping over the sign that said ‘open’ and pulling down a large tarp over the stall. 

Ranboo just sighed. 

“Come on, you two. I imagine you guys are freezing.” 

As he led them back to the farmhouse, Ranboo filled Wilbur in on all that had transpired. Some of it Tommy knew, especially considering he had been there for it, but Tommy learned a lot about what had led to Ranboo being sick in the tent. 

He and Tubbo had been on a supply run for Phil for some potion ingredients, hence why he had supplies in the first place. But on the way there, Tubbo had gotten injured and Ranboo had dropped him off in the nearest village. Ordinarily, he would have waited for someone to come and get Tubbo and bring someone to accompany him, but there had been a big storm on the way that would close off the passage he needed to use to get the ingredients. 

So, instead, he had gone off on his own. He managed to get there just fine but the storm had hit on his way back. Once it cleared, he kept going, but the damage was done. 

When they got to the cabin, Tommy smiled as he stood back, watching as Ranboo walked in. His job was done. He figured he should probably take advantage of being in a village and see if he could pick up some off-jobs for a few loaves of bread at the bakery. 

He turned around to leave when he heard someone call his name. 

“Yeah?” Tommy asked, turning around to see Wilbur standing at the doorway expectantly. 

“Are you not coming in?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Sorry, but I really only came to drop Ranboo off,” he said, ignoring the call of warmth. 

“Just for a little bit. We can’t thank you enough for getting Ranboo home,” Wilbur aid, opening the door a little wider. 

Tommy knew he shouldn’t, knew that if he accepted he would only get people killed. He didn’t want to host another funeral. 

But the warmth of the house and Ranboo called to him. Tommy had done the one thing he had vowed to never do again, he had gotten attached. He should have been more careful. The thought of Ranboo lying motionless on the ground snapped him out of it. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head aggressively. “I can’t.” 

“Tommy, I know what you’re thinking,” Ranboo said suddenly, walking out of the house, “but I promise you that you’re safe here. Nothing was your fault.” 

“Ranboo, I have to leave,” Tommy said firmly. 

“No, you don’t! Please don’t isolate yourself,” Ranboo pleaded.

“You don’t understand,” Tommy said quietly, “and I hope you never do.” 

With that, he turned around and walked away. He hoped they would remain unscathed, hoped that his curse wouldn’t linger. 

Walking through town was significantly harder. He opened his bag and checked the pocket he kept his coins in and did a quick count. It wasn’t much, maybe enough for one loaf of bread at most. He did a recount of them, wondering if it would be more worth it to save them for a bit. Maybe for a night at an inn. He wasn’t sure though. 

As he approached the edge of the town, he saw a group of people all dressed in black cloaks. Tommy’s heart started pounding in his chest. Hunters. They were here. Why had he stayed?! Why hadn’t he just left Ranboo as soon as he saw Wilbur. Why had he even entertained the idea of staying? 

Taking a breath, Tommy pulled out his dagger and approached them slowly. If he could scare them off, then it would buy the town some time to prepare. To hide all the vulnerable people, to sharpen weapons and board up windows. 

“ I would recommend leaving this town,” Tommy warned as soon as he got close enough. 

The hunters turned around, their eyes snapping to him. 

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” one of them asked. 

“Glad you asked,” Tommy said with a smirk, whipping off his cloak and throwing it off to the side. 

He spread his wings as wide as they could go and set them on fire.

“Boss, a phoenix! Those feathers are worth more than anything we’ve ever caught,” one of them said eagerly. 

“I see it. Boys, today we make bank. Catch the bird or don’t come back alive,” the leader said, unsheathing his sword. 

“Come at me!” Tommy cried, holding out his dagger in front of him.

And come at him they did. They all pulled out their swords and rushed at him. Their blades glowed under the light of Tommy’s fire. He weaved between them, always taking carefully calculated jabs with his dagger. The problem was that there was only one of him and five of them. 

One of them got a good swipe at his wing, the blade cutting through skin and feathers. With a cry of pain Tommy fell onto the snow, rolling on his back to face the five hunters. 

“NIce try, kid,” one of them said smirking, kicking away his weapon.

Tommy summoned a fire and held his palms out in front of him. 

As soon as the fire started though, it stopped. He blinked, looking down at his hands where there was now a set of netherite cuffs looped around them. Tommy’s breathing picked up as he realized he was well and truly trapped. There was no last Hail Mary he could use. 

When the hunters grabbed him and pulled him to stand he let them, barely registering when they bound his wings with netherite restraints, only hissing when the metal burned slightly. 

They laughed loudly and started dragging him to the forest and towards a horse-drawn cart. As he was about to step in, a twig snapped behind. Thye group turned around and were met with the sight of Ranboo holding a sword out in front of him. 

“What’s this?” one of them sneered, taking a threatening step towards Ranboo. 

“Let him go,” Ranboo demanded, holding the sword a little higher. There was a slight shake to his hand and his voice sounded a little nervous.

“Ranboo,” Tommy called softly. “Leave. It’s not worth it.” 

“Tommy, no. You saved me, so I’m not leaving you.” 

“Please, don’t make me burn another feather. Please ,” Tommy begged. 

“Listen to him, little birdie. You aren’t worth much. We don’t need to bother with you,” the leader said, stepping forward, cutting Ranboo off. 

The magpie shook his head, determination burning in his eyes. 

“Your call then, I suppose. Boys, take him. Dead or alive, I don’t care.” 

Without hesitation, the other members jumped on Ranboo, who just barely managed to dodge. 

“Ranboo!” Tommy cried. He jumped from the cart and grabbed onto the nearest hunter, wrestling him to the ground. He was at a disadvantage, dripping in netherite the way he was, but he was determined. 

Finally, after a few minutes the other man ended up out cold on the ground and Tommy had a sword between his two hands. 

Ranboo was currently losing a battle to three of the hunters. They came at him relentlessly, their attacks synced in such a way it never gave Ranboo more than a second of breathing room. Tommy felt rage burn through his veins. 

He ran at them, his wings pitifully sparking beneath the netherite’s cruel kiss. Tommy raised the sword above his head, the shiny blade catching the reflection from the sun as he brought it down on one of the hunters. 

“The hell-” one of them exclaimed when Tommy hit them. 

“You don’t touch him!” Tommy threatened before bringing the sword back down. 

“Oh yeah, little fireball? Try me!” he taunted, hitting back. 

The next few minutes passed in a blur, their blades caught in some cruel dance. Snow scattered beneath their feet as Tommy swung and dodged, trying to ignore the burn of the netherite restraints he was trapped in. 

When he got close enough, he swung at the hunter’s hand, forcing him to drop the sword. Tommy then used the hilt to knock him out, tossing his limp body next to the other hunters. 

When Tommy turned back to see how Ranboo was faring his heart sank. 

Ranboo was on his knees, looking up fearfully at the two hunters, sword tossed a few feet away from him. Tommy let instinct take over and ran to tackle one of them. He heard a surprised shout come from both of them as he rolled off the hunter and turned to face the other. 

“Let him go,” Tommy demanded darkly. 

“Not a chance. I mean, you care for him, right?” the hunter said, walking closer to Ranboo, holding the tip of his sword to Ranboo’s neck. 

Tommy sucked in a breath, nodding wordlessly. 

“Why don’t you get in the cart and he can come with us alive. We’ll call him… insurance .” 

Tommy gulped and slowly made his way back to the cart. He glanced back and saw the hunter yank Ranboo to stand. He couldn’t help the way his wings sparked a little at the sight. 

He hopped back in the cart, Ranboo slowly getting on after him. When they were both in, the hunters carefully attached Tommy to the cart using netherite chains. No words were said between the two as Ranboo just sat next to Tommy, an arm draped protectively around his shoulders. 

The cart ride was bumpy, the hunters clearly not caring about how each jostle sent a fresh wave of pain down Tommy’s body as the netherite shifted. 

“Ranboo?” Tommy whispered a little later. He estimated that they were maybe thirty minutes out. 

“Yeah, Toms?” 

“ Run , get off and run. You don’t have anything keeping you here,” Tommy told him. 

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you.” 

“You have so much out there!” 

“So do you,” Ranboo hissed. 

Tommy shook his head, not saying anything else. Tommy had his chance at life, more chances than anyone else got, more chances than he deserved. He had his happy times, but he had been his own downfall. 

At sundown, their captors made camp. Starting a small fire and tents a ways away from where they parked their cart with Tommy and Ranboo still in it. One of them noticed that Ranboo wasn’t being restrained and attached a chain from his anke to the cart, clearly not seeing him as a threat. 

“Come closer,” Tommy invited, seeing Ranboo shivering. 

When Ranboo shuffled closer, Tommy pulled him in, trying to tuck the magpie tightly against his side. Once he was happy with their closeness, Tommy reached for the fire inside of him, ignoring the burn of netherite as it stopped his flame. If Ranboo could be only a little warmer, Tommy would take any pain the universe threw at him. 

They stayed silent through the night, listening to the hunters slowly fall asleep. The moon was high in the sky before either of them dared make a sound. 

“Ranboo?” Tommy whispered. 

“Yeah?” 

“If we want to escape, we have to go now,” Tommy said urgently. 

“But how? You have all that netherite on you, and I’m stuck here,” Ranboo asked, pursing his lips. 

“I managed to swipe this earlier,” Tommy said, pulling out a pocket knife from his pants, dangling it proudly in front of his face. 

“What’s that gonna do?” Ranboo asked. “It’s only a knife.” 

“When you live on the streets, you learn a lot. And something I learned is how to pick a lock with a knife,” Tommy explained with a small smirk. 

Ranboo said nothing as Tommy reached for the cuff around his ankle, pushing on the button to release the knife. 

He fiddled around with the blade, the tumblers clanking noisily. After a few tense moments where both boys were holding their breaths, terrified the hunters would wake up, the lock clicked.

Tommy felt relief flood through him as soon as it released Ranboo. He was free, he could go home. A name Tommy didn’t take, a family he wouldn’t tear apart. 

“ Go ,” he urged Ranboo, “follow the compass.” 

“What about you?” Ranboo asked. 

“I’m not worth it, Ranboo. Please, you have to understand. I only get people killed.” 

“Tommy, that isn’t your fault,” Ranboo said firmly. 

“ It is . If I had just died with everyone else in my village, so many people would still be alive.” 

“Tommy-” 

“Ranboo, please,” Tommy begged, “go on without me.” 

“I’m not leaving you. You saved my life, so now I save yours, come on,” Ranboo said, grabbing onto Tommy’s hand and squeezing it tightly.

“In the red bag, there’s a key that should be enough for all the netherite. The locks are too small for me to use the knife on,” Tommy conceded. 

Ranboo nodded and quietly hopped off the cart. He found the bag and started shuffling through it frantically. When he found the key, he held the dark netherite key up to the light of the moon for Tommy to see before quickly scampering back over to the cart. 

Tommy quickly offered up all the points he knew the locks were and let Ranboo remove the restraints. 

Fire welled up inside of Tommy, happy to be free again. 

“Grab a weapon and then, let’s go,” Tommy instructed, picking up the pocket knife from where he had set it down earlier. 

Ranboo nodded and picked up a sword like the one he had had earlier while Tommy picked up both a sword and his dagger.

After doing a quick sweep of the camp and destroying the wheels of the cart, they ran off back in the direction they had been coming from. Normally, Tommy would have been careful not to push Ranboo too much since he was still recovering, but they needed to put as much distance between them and the hunters as possible. 

Tommy led the charge, carefulling climbing up hills, leaving hand and foot holds so Ranboo could follow easier. When they settled for the night, Tommy shoved Ranboo iup into a tree as soon as they had enough distance behind him. It took a minute for Tommy to show Ranboo how to secure himself properly, but once he was, Ranboo was out within minutes.

When the morning came, Tommy barely let the sun greet the stars before they headed out. It was much harder going back, but thankfully, Ranboo still had the compass on him. 

“Tommy,” Ranboo breathed as they stopped on a hill for a break, “I think we need to talk.” 

“About what?” Tommy asked, taking a bite of his apple. He grimaced when it turned out to be a bruise, the overly sweet mush of the apple filling his mouth.

“You left,” Ranboo said simply. 

“Yeah, and?” Tommy said, shrugging. 

“What were your plans?” Ranboo pressed. 

“Just what I’ve been doing my whole life, going wherever the road takes me,” Tommy said.

“Tommy, that- that isn’t living, you know it. That’s just surviving. There’s more out there, you just need to let yourself stop for a little,” Ranboo whispered, pain evident in his voice. 

Tommy shook his head, taking a deep breath. “You know why I can’t,” he said quietly. 

“Tommy, no. Please, don’t leave. I’ve only known you for a little bit, but I can’t imagine what it would be like without you. You’re magnetic, the world revolves around you! You’re kind and loyal. You took one look at me dying in a tent and just helped me without asking for anything in return. Let me give you the one thing you’ve never really had,” Ranboo pleaded. 

“And what is that?” Tommy asked, hesitant, afraid. 

“A home.” 

They arrived at the farmhouse fairly quickly. Tommy hadn’t said much since Ranboo’s offer. Ranboo understood and gave Tommy space. But when they arrived at the house, Ranboo dragged Tommy through the door, not giving him a chance to leave. 

“He’s staying,” Ranboo announced to the small family. They didn't even hesitate before agreeing, snapping into attention, herding the two avians to the kitchen where they were sat down and carefully looked over by Phil and Techno. Tommy protested, citing that he was a phoenix and he had a sped up healing process. 

Still, there were burn marks from where the netherite had burned him and he was given burn cream for the sore patches. Ranboo was given orders of bedrest for a few more days. 

That night, Tommy went into Ranboo’s room. The lights were off, only a dim lamp lighting up the room.

“How are you doing?” Ranboo asked, turning away from the book he was reading. 

“Could be better,” Tommy admitted. 

“Do you want me to preen you?” Ranboo offered. 

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Tommy said.

Ranboo rolled his eyes. “Toms, I promise you, preening won’t kill me.” 

“Fine,” Tommy conceded.

He came and sat in front of Ranboo, pulling a pillow onto his lap. Ranboo carefully ran his fingers through Tommy’s feathers, letting him get used to the feeling of hands on his wings, before finally starting. 

Just like last time, Ranboo was so gentle, so careful with the plumage. And just like last time, Tommy fell asleep. Safety and warmth emanated from Ranboo’s hands, leaving him sleepy, his thoughts thick like sweet molasses. 

When he wakes up the next morning, he’s curled tightly against Ranboo’s chest, the magpie’s arms wrapped tightly around him. Tommy snuggled deeper into him, relishing in the warmth. He didn't want to move from here, but he knew he would have to. No matter what Ranboo told him, it was dangerous for Tommy to be here. 

Hunters had appeared within minutes last time, he refused to have more blood on his hands. 

Tommy couldn't lie though, he was tempted. The warmth of a home, a hearth. The love of someone he was tempted to call a brother. People he could tell he would learn to love with time. The promise of food, a bed, the promise of people to look out for him, to fill the hours of silence with mindless chatter. 

It takes a village. 

But it also only takes a phoenix to raze it. 

One week. He would give himself one week before he left. Long enough to make sure Ranboo had fully shaken off the hypothermia. Enough time to commit him and his family to memory. Long enough to make some coin in the village. But hopefully not long enough to get attached. 

Hopefully. 

When Ranboo woke up, he smiled sleepily at Tommy, pulling him closer to his chest for a second before releasing him. 

“Good morning, Toms,” he said quietly. 

“Good morning, Ranboo.” 

Since Tommy was on the edge of the bed, he got up first, taking a second to stretch. He unfurled his wings to their full length, relishing in the gentle burn of the muscles. Ranboo copied him before grabbing Tommy’s hand and dragging him down the hall. 

When they reached the kitchen, Phil and Techno were already there, bustling over the stove. Tommy spotted half a bowl of pancake batter as well as a small stack of pancakes nearby. His stomach rumbled, begging for food he hadn’t had the luxury of in so long. 

Ranboo pulled him to the table, pushing him into a chair and plopping himself next to Tommy. 

“Good morning, Phil, Techno,” Ranboo chirped. 

“Good morning, Ranboo. Good morning, Tommy,” Phil said, turning to them with a warm smile. 

Tommy mumbled a quick hello while Techno grunted. 

Techno handed the bowl of batter to Phil while he got some plates and forks and put them in front of Tommy. 

“We can chat after breakfast about sleeping arrangements and seeing what you need, alright, Tommy?” Phil asked. 

Tommy bit his lip, looking at Ranboo’s happy expression. He hadn’t wanted to break the news to Ranboo until the day he left so he wouldn’t try and convince Tommy to stay. He didn’t know what to say. 

“That sounds good,” he said, sounding unsure.

“Tommy-” 

But before Ranboo could go any further, Wilbur walked in slowly. He smiled lazily at everyone at the table, giving a small wave only Tommy returned before taking a seat across from Tommy. Techno handed him a plate and a fork too. 

Finally, Phil brought over the stack of pancakes and syrup. Everyone eagerly doused the pancakes with the sweet syrup and dug in. 

It took a few minutes for Wilbur to completely wake up, but once he did, the table seemed to come more alive. Breakfast mostly passed peacefully. Afterwards, Tubbo dragged Ranboo away to the workshop while Techno and Phil went out to the potato farm, leaving Tommy alone with Wilbur. 

Tommy had taken up residence on the couch and Wilbur came to join him. 

“So, Tommy,” he started, “tell me about yourself.” 

Tommy scrunched his face in confusion. 

“I mean, you’re gonna be with us and all we know about you is that you saved Ranboo from dying,” Wilbur said. 

“Oh. Well, then. I’m a phoenix,” Tommy said hesitantly. 

“Well, we know that,” Wilbur said dryly. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Tommy said, shrugging. 

“What drives you? What makes you keep going?” Wilbur prompted. 

“I’m assuming that the fact that I can’t die doesn’t count?” Tommy asked snorting. 

“As much as Tubbo would love that answer, no, it doesn’t,” Wilbur said, shaking his head fondly. 

“I mean, I’ve lived most of my life alone. I’m always on the go. There’s not much room for character development out there,” Tommy said. 

“Oh, come on, there had to be something ,” Wilbur pressed. 

Tommy flopped his head onto the cushion behind him thinking. 

“I mean, there’s really not much to say. It was just me, the stars, the sun, and the open road. Once in a while, I’d find some people willing to let me shack up with them for a bit, but those never lasted long,” Tommy told him. 

“There’s gotta be something that makes you tick though, surely. I mean what drove you to help Ranboo? You could have just as easily just left him behind.”

Tommy thought. He could have. But leaving Ranboo the way he was would have weighed heavily on his conscience. He knew why, afterall, he had been the lone survivor of his village. He was the reason so many people were dead. 

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” Tommy admitted heavily, ducking his head. “I need to try and make up for it. I’ve put people through a lot and I guess that this is my way of apologizing to the universe for it.” 

A beat. 

“Whatever happened to you, it wasn’t your fault,” Wilbur soothed. 

“How can you say that?” Tommy snapped, his wings unfurling menacingly behind him as he turned to face Wilbur. 

“You’re what, sixteen? I refuse to believe you hurt people as bad as you think you have,” Wilbur stated simply. 

At that, Tommy deflated, pulling his knees to his chest. 

“Seventeen,” he mumbled. 

“Sorry?” 

“I’m seventeen,” Tommy said a little clearer. 

“See, you do know things about yourself,” Wilbur teased.

It took a minute for Wilbur’s joke to register, but once it did, he snorted and laughed a bit, thwapping Wilbur with his wing. 

“That was awful,” he complained with another laugh. 

Wilbur just sent him a teasing smile and a shrug. 

Life at the cabin was… nice. Tommy was a stranger to them, but they treated him well. The week was filled with various members of the small makeshift family inviting him to whatever they happened to be doing. 

He spent an afternoon with Wilbur running the stall, another farming with Techno, and another helping Tubbo out with repairs over in his small shed. But more than any of them, Ranboo hogged all his time. Which, at the moment, was mostly spent lying in bed and complaining. Tommy didn’t let up though, as much as Ranboo begged to be released from the room, Tommy just pushed him back and started another round of whatever card game they were in the middle of. 

“I have to be good by this point,” Ranboo groaned as he buried his face in the pillow. 

“You got sick in the middle of the woods and nearly died. Pardon me for wanting to err on the side of caution,” Tommy huffed as he checked and added a dash of a healing potion into Ranboo’s soup. The cough had mostly cleared by this point, but since it wasn’t totally gone. 

Ranboo just sighed but sat up and accepted the bowl from Tommy. 

“Thank you for taking care of me by the way,” he said softly, “I know I’m not really letting you leave. But that doesn't necessarily mean you need to play nurse again.” 

Tommy shook his head. “This is just me paying off my debt,” he said quietly.

“I really wish you wouldn't say that. You’re not at fault for anything you think you’ve done. Unless you’ve personally plunged a knife into someone, it’s not on you. And even then if you did it, it was probably self-defense,” Ranboo told him. 

Tommy just sent him a bitter smile, hatred burning deep in his blue irises. It was fierce, a raging fire of anger and resentment. But as much as he wanted to, Ranboo would never feel its heat. The fire was directed inwards, searing Tommy’s tender heart as he bore the weight of crimes he had never committed. 

“Want to feel her?” Tommy asked suddenly. 

Ranboo didn’t need to ask who, he just nodded. 

Tommy scooted closer to Ranboo, sandwiching his hands around Ranboo’s. “Close your eyes,” he whispered. 

Ranboo complied easily, already feeling a small spark inside of him. 

Warmth emanated from Tommy’s hands, the room around them suddenly feeling alive. Deep in Ranboo’s soul, he heard the call of a magic he had never felt before, but at the same time felt as though it was calling him home after a long day. 

“Do you feel her?” Tommy asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” Ranboo breathed, in awe at the magnificent power. It felt old, older than all the stars in the sky, older than the universe, older than time itself. Ranboo could feel the calls of fallen souls and long dead stars in her voice. 

“She must really like you,” Tommy said, a smile audible in his voice. “In my village, people would spend years trying to feel her. Phoenix’s are automatic, avians can learn though. The really lucky ones might even be able to produce sparks.” 

“Why me?” Ranbooa asked before he could stop himself. He wasn’t a phoenix, he was only an ordinary magpie. He hadn’t even known that fire was alive until recently. He didn’t understand. 

“She believes in absolute reciprocity. You protected one of hers, and so, in return, she will reward you,” Tommy explained reverently. 

Tommy felt the warmth of the fire pulse inside of him, and he knew it was doing the same in Ranboo. Still, Ranboo’s face was twisted in confusion.

“But you saved me . Not the other way around.” 

Tommy readjusted his grip on Ranboo’s hands, taking one of Ranboo’s hands and placing the open palm over his heart. 

At that moment, he knew he couldn't leave Ranboo. There was a warmth pooling between their souls that Tommy couldn't ignore. A safety  about this house that Tommy had not felt since he was little. Somehow, these four walls felt like they had already shifted to fit Tommy inside of them. It was time to put the words out there. 

A part of him still wanted to leave, and that part wouldnt leave for a while. But he was tired. The hunters would be a constant threat. For as long as fire burned in his veins, for as long as he had feathered and as long as he could fly, there would be people after him. He just had to hope that he was enough to protect the people around him. 

And maybe they could protect him too.

“You saved me in a different way. I was alone before, nowhere to go, no one to turn to. And then you came along, offered me a home, a place to stay. A family. Things I’ve wanted for so long. but never let myself have. I was actually planning on leaving at the end of the week. But not anymore. I’m- I’m ready to not be alone,” Tommy admitted quietly. 

“Tommy,” Ranboo breathed softly. He jumped from where he was and pulled Tommy into a tight hug, wrapping his arms and wings firmly around the phoenix. 

When he did, something shifted. The warmth from deep within his soul rose and he felt sparks start from his heart and send fire through his veins. All of it linking back to the skin, just above his heart. The fire gathered there, beating in time with the thumping of his heart, searing the skin. 

Tommy could tell it should hurt, but the burn felt comforting. He didn’t know what was happening, but he relished in the way the fire was spreading through his body. The way it thrummed in his bloodstream, promising protection, promising love, promising warmth. 

Eventually though, it got too hot and he had to let go of Ranboo. 

Tommy's breath caught in his throat, Ranboo was glowing, bathed in a fire that was coming from him. 

His wings were blazing in bright fiery reds, oranges and yellows, the fire flickering softly over his shiny black and white wings making them look like they were the remains of a dying fireplace, black and white ash supporting the last of warm orange flames. His grey eyes shining in an ancient warmth

“Ranboo,” Tommy breathed, “you look like a phoenix.” 

The magpie raised his hands in front of him, turning his head to look at his wings. 

“Wow,” he breathed, “I do. You too though- I mean, you are a phoenix, but you’re dripping in flames right now.” 

Tommy raised his hands to his face like Ranboo, before catching his reflection in the mirror.

When he did, his breath caught in his throat. Hewas radiant, bathed in a gentle golden glow that seemed to be coming from inside him. His wings alight with fire that coated each feather, making it look like they were made of rubies, ambers, and yellow tourmalines. His hair was bathed in light, the blond curls seemingly made of finely stringed gold. 

“Wait-” Tommy exclaimed, reaching for his shirt collar, tugging it down to reveal what looked like a seal of two birds flying together over his heart. 

“What does it mean?”  Ranboo asked. 

Tommy looked up at him, love shining through his blue eyes, glowing like the hottest parts of a fire. “It means we’re soulmates.” 

“You two are very special avians,” Phil said as he looked at the matching marks above both Ranboo’s and Tommy’s hearts. 

“I know,” Tommy said, tucking himself under Ranboo’s wing. “I always thought I was cursed, but maybe I’m not. Soulmates can’t be cursed, right?” he asked a little desperately.

“You were never cursed Toms, you just had bad luck,” Ranboo soothed. He was still trying to work through those thoughts with the younger avian, so far it was going better than expected. Which still wasn’t very good, but it was something. 

Tommy just pressed himself further into Ranboo’s side, clearly still believing he deserved all that had happened to him in some twisted way. 

One day, Ranboo would be able to show Tommy how wonderful he was, one day he would see the same fiery brave phoenix that Ranboo did. He didn’t care if it took years, decades, a millenia. The sun could die and Ranboo would still want to show Tommy what he really was. 

Tommy could promise over and over again that he understood why he wasn't made of evil, but it was another thing to believe those words. 

Every night, he went to bed feeling like a star that had meant to die eons ago, a star for whom the light refused to go out. He had tried so many times to rid the world of his stain, to avenge all those he had killed, to tip the scales into balance. But he had been met with failure every time. For some reason, he was still here, for some reason, death smiled upon him and handed his limp body back to life, who cradled him as if he were precious. 

Some days, he felt better. Like he was meant to be here, like he deserved all the good that he got. Like the sun was his to see, like the universe breathed easier with him around. But still other days, he couldn’t help the dark thoughts that creeped into his mind.

It was a strange dichotomy that raged inside of him. The need to die, to atone for all that he had done, but also the will to live, the slowly growing belief he was good, the belief that it was lady luck that had abandoned him and not he who was a curse. 

It all came to a head one day. 

Tommy had been sleeping peacefully, tucked under Ranboo’s chin, as per usual. Tubbo had joined that night, practically shoving himself on top of Tommy. Once upon a time, the contact would have freaked him out, he would have convinced himself that their lives had started the countdown clock. 

But now, he just curled further into their warmth. He basked in the presence of people, of hearts beating against his, of people seeking him out. 

Then, from outside the door, a crash sounded. 

Tommy jolted up, accidentally pushing Tubbo to the floor.

“Hey, wha-” 

“Shhh!” Tommy said urgently, cutting him off and creeping towards the door. He was pretty sure he knew what was out there, but he hoped he was wrong. 

Beneath his feet, the floor creaked in warning, almost as if pleading with Tommy to turn back. Ignoring it, he slowly opened the door and was met with a sight that made his heart sink. 

Three hunters, all dressed in long black cloaks. Their weapons took the soft light of the silver moon outside and warped it until it turned sharp and menacing. They seemed to be discussing something, the sounds of hushed whispers just barely reaching Tommy. Dramatic gestures and angry movements showed they were currently disagreeing on something, buying Tommy precious minutes to defend what was now his family. 

“Wake up, Ranboo,” Tommy hissed. 

“Wait, what’s out there?” Tubbo asked, confusion flickering on his face.

“Hunters.” 

Tubbo drew in a sharp gasp before quietly hopping back on the bed and gently shaking him up. 

When Ranboo opened his eyes, Tubbo leaned in and whispered what was going on. Ranboo glanced at Tommy, an urgent question written in his eyes. 

Tommy nodded, he was fine, his priority was making sure the family was safe. He crept back over to them, mind already whirring with escape plans. They had to wake up the others, but they couldn’t let the hunters know they were awake. 

“Tubbo, open the window and then go over and wake up Phil, Techno, and Wilbur. Be quiet , I know there’s a spare toolbox in this room so take off the whole window if you have too. I don’t care, just get them. Tell them to let Techno lead the charge, as soon as he attacks, everyone starts attacking,” he told him, running through all the scenarios. “At least one of them has a crossbow, the other has a sword. No idea about the third one.”

“Got it,” Tubbo said, flashing Tommy a thumbs up before opening a drawer and pulling out what Tommy knew was a multi-tool. He then carefully pried open Ranboo’s window and jumped out, using his brown and green speckled feathers to break his fall. 

“Are they dangerous?” Ranboo asked, moving around and handing Tommy a small dagger before pulling out his own dagger. 

Tommy sighed. “Probably. If they know where we are, then they’re probably prepared too.”

What he didn’t mention was the fact that the third one probably had some sort of netherite weapon. For all intents and purposes, this would be Tommy’s final battle. Whether he was taken down permanently or he won them peace. He was done fighting. He was so tired after so many years alone and on the run with only a weapon as his loyal companion. 

So, he took the dagger in his hand and walked carefully towards the door, waiting for the signal to let all hell break loose. Ranboo walked up behind him, reaching his free hand for Tommy’s own, clutching it tightly in a promise, that no matter what happened tonight, that he would be there for Tommy, that he was no longer alone. 

Tommy returned it. He had finally had a family in its purest form, despite how much he pushed back in the beginning. 

He only hoped they would survive the night. If not, Tommy wasn't sure what would happen to him. 

Tommy heard one singular loud knock come from down the hall, and without being told, he knew it was Techno.

Sure enough, after the knock had settled, its gentle ring seemingly bringing forth the final calm before the storm as the door flew open. 

That was the signal, so without hesitation, Tommy threw open the door in front of him and ran into the frey. 

There were three hunters, the one with the crossbow also had a sword, it seemed, as he was fending off Techno along with his friends. 

Tommy blocked a blow that would have slashed across Techno’s back while he heard Ranboo join up with Tubbo and get the other one. Three hunters against six people seemed like an easy win at first glance, but the hunters were prepared. One of them managed to pull out a long silver whistle and give it a long blow until Tubbo tackled him.

But the damage had been done. 

More hunters descended into the house. The crash of breaking glass sounded as soul-piercing as a choir on Sunday morning. 

It was a sea of black cloaks and silver weapons against feathers and shining swords. It was chaos, it was calamity, it was a swirling monsoon of hatred, fear, anger, and grief. It was a battle of avians wanting nothing more than to simply live against people who saw feathers as a sign of a curse that must be dealt with and driven to extinction. 

In that moment, it wasn’t just a battle, it was the continuation of an eons-long war that would never end. It was a war fought by their ancestors, and the ancestors of their ancestors, a war that would be fought by the next generation and every generation to come. It was a war as relentless as the waves against the seashore, as infinite as the inky night sky above, and as hollow as Saturn and all her rings. 

At some point, Tommy ended up outside. He didn’t know how or when, simply that he was. Fire burned in his veins, determination sparking a protective blaze. He would defend his family, no matter the cost. 

He was a phoenix, and phoenix’s even in their final moments burn brightly, only going out when their soul is finally resting. 

The hunter in front of him swept Tommy’s feet from underneath him, leaving him writhing in pain as he felt the delicate bones of his wings be crushed from the fall. 

“Hello, little phoenix,” he said casually. “You’ve caused me a lot of headache, but that ends tonight.” 

Recognition flashed in Tommy’s eyes, it was the leader that had kidnapped him. 

The hunter then pulled out a small dagger from his belt. Unlike all the other swords out, this one was a deep shiny purple colour instead of the silver Tommy was well used too. That could only mean one thing; netherite. 

Tommy gasped and tried to sit up to get away, but the hunter brought his boot onto Tommy’s wing. 

“Slow down there, you aren’t getting away this time. I advise you to say your final goodbyes, because this? This is the end of the line for you.” 

Without warning, the hunter stabbed the dagger through Tommy’s chest, sinking the cruel blade to the hilt before yanking it back out again. 

“May death recieve you well,” he said before rejoining the battle. 

Tommy lay there, breathing shallow breaths as he felt the fire inside of him die down, the wound on his chest gushing warm blood in a mocking comfort. 

He was really dying this time, there wouldn’t be another wake-up, no more sunsets or nights spent curled up next to Ranboo. There would be no more love, no more warmth. No more gentle fires he summoned with barely a thought to the wind or sparks flying out of his wings when he was angry. 

Already his vision was fuzzy, the stars nothing more than pinpricks of light scattered across the velvety night sky. This was it, this was his end. 

But he didn’t want it to be. 

Unlike before, when he was cold and lonely despite the fire that lived inside of him, back when he had trees he called home. He had something to live for this time, he had people to protect and love. He was finally home, more than that, he had finally learned what home really meant. 

Previously, death would have been a comfort. Her arms would have cradled him and let him rest, let him atone for the crimes he believed he committed. But now, death was the tsunami that tore down his hopes and dreams right before his eyes, and all he could do was watch. 

Thankfully, there was one last thing Tommy could do, one last goodbye, one last thank you, one last I love you. 

With the little consciousness Tommy had left, he summoned all the fire he had in him and imagined Ranoo in his mind. He felt the fire burn in the empty space between them, felt as the remainder of his life boosted Ranboo’s, felt as his fire sparked one in the magpie. 

And with that, Tommy took his last breath and let the darkness overwhelm him.

“The little phoenix hung on one last time because of you, but I doubt he could survive a second stabbing,” a voice taunted. 

Tommy groaned, his whole body sore and stiff. He felt like he had just regenerated after a death, but that wasn’t possible. He was dead. Killed by a netherite dagger, the one material a phoenix could never recover from. 

“Get away from him!” a voice cried out. Ranboo. 

“And if I don’t?” the other voice asked, laughing cruelly as Ranboo fumbled for a reply. “Give up, little birdie, you have no power here.” 

“No,” Ranboo said, his voice suddenly taking on a steel edge. Anger and determination boiling over the one word. “I did not go through fire and flames for you to be on top. How dare you stand where he stood.” 

Fire roared inside of Tommy. Reaching heights within his soul he had never felt before. He cracked open his eyes and saw the hunter from earlier standing over him facing Ranboo. Well that wouldn’t do now would it. 

Summoning the dregs of anger inside of him, Tommy gathered fire in his hand and launched it cleanly upward. The hunter yelled out and when he looked down at Tommy, he was already busy summoning another one. 

He ran, but not before Tommy had set him alight. 

“Tommy!” Ranboo cried as he collapsed next to him. 

“Ranboo,” Tommy said weakly, letting out a small cough, “what happened?” 

“You died, but then you lived somehow,” Ranboo said, tears rolling down his face. 

“That would be thanks to the soulbond. Tommy should have died there, but I assume he let out one last bit of fire and connected it to Ranboo,” Phil said walking up to them. When Tommy nodded in confirmation, he continued. “So what happened is the fire connected your life forces, just for a second, neutralizing the effects of the netherite and allowing Tommy to regenerate normally.” 

“So what you’re saying is Tommy is clingy?” Ranboo asked, his tone teasing and fond. 

“Shut up, you’re the clingy one,” Tommy grumbled as Ranboo helped him up. 

“Oh sure, because I’m the one that survived a death blow just to stay with you, right?” 

“Yeah, well, I wanted to leave but you wouldn’t let me.” 

“And then you spent most of your time with me despite there being four other people in the house.” 

Before Tommy could think of a retort, Phil cut in.

“We can continue this later, but right now, we need to get patched up. All the hunters are gone, but it wasn’t an easy fight.” 

“Right. Sorry, Phil,” Ranboo said, pulling Tommy close to him so he could help him walk to the house. 

“Yeah. Sorry, Phil,” Tommy mumbled. 

The three made it back to the house where Tecnno was already patching up Tubbo and Wilbur. They both seemed relatively fine after the fight, but Tommy could tell a lot had been taken out of them. When he went to help clean their wounds and put bandages, however, Ranboo dragged him to a chair and handed him a health potion with instructions to sip it slowly. Sitting there, Tommy realized something. The prophesy, alone you will die for the last time. When he died, when the hunter got him with the netherite dagger, he had been alone. But he wasn't alone anymore. Tommy wouldn't die again, not until he had lived a full life. 

The thought made him warm, hopeful, excited for a future he had never allowed himself to dream of. 

And as Tommy looked around the kitchen, he looked at his family that was battered and bruised but alive, and he realized a few things. Life would never be perfect, there would always be people after him, always people to hurt his family. But he wasn’t going to let it stop him from living. 

He finally had people, people that loved him, people that cared for him, people that would fight tooth and nail for his safety. And they had him. And together, no matter what life threw at them, they would be alright. 

There was no utopia for Tommy to escape to, no perfect universe where they would live happily ever after. 

But here, it was pretty damn close. 

Where was here you might ask?

The answer is simple. 

Home. 

Here is home. 

And there was no better place.