Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun crept above the skyline and golden light spilled over a vast ocean of trees, welcoming Logstedshire to the bliss of day.

Tommy had been awake long before the sun’s arrival. He made his way back from the river with a bucket of water sloshing in each hand. The rising sun behind him brushed a slight itch over his back, but he did his best to push away the distraction. It wasn’t a long walk back to the village, however having to wake before dawn every day painted shadows beneath his eyes and wove his limbs together with string of fatigue.

But, once he made his way into the thickness of the trees, the sun dissipated behind the canopy of leaves. The forest was oddly quiet despite the ascent of morning. There were no trills of birdsong reverberating around the trees and the rustle of leaves had vanished, leaving only a noiseless vacuum in its place. Even the river seemed to have ceased its eternal rushing.

He was always careful not to stray too far into the forest. He’d grown up with Sam warning him of the fae lurking within; everyone in the village had a different story of someone disappearing after heading too far into the trees. Tommy wasn’t sure how many stories he believed, but he did at least understand them enough to stay on the beaten dirt path.

Tommy couldn’t help but feel like the world was an audience stilling in their seats, waiting for the curtains of a theatre to draw open. A ball of unease settled in the pit of Tommy’s stomach like he was the main actor preparing to play his part.

He did his best to soften the anxiety. He caught a glimpse of the wooden houses of Logstedshire where a plume of smoke already billowed out from the blacksmiths. It was a nice reminder that he was never alone in this world, no matter how desolate it may appear.

So, he took a deep breath and continued his minor trek into the town centre. The mud path that crawled through columns of wooden houses welcomed his return.

He dragged the water to the centre of the village and placed it down next to the main well so everyone could access them. Most people went to the river since it wasn’t far away, but it was always best to have some in the middle of the village in case it was needed. Normally in such cases people would go to the well however the midsummer heat had rendered it as barren and dry.

With a groan he straightened his back and relished in the clicks that were plucked from the bones. He squinted up again. Eyes so blue they appeared to reflect the sky scanned the surrounding area to see Sam walking towards him.

“Hey Tommy,” Sam called, his eyes creased from the smile on his face.

Sam was Tommy’s favourite person in the village, apart from Ranboo. He was still wearing his apron and gloves from his morning in his forgery and his golden eyes glimmered like the gilt adorning many of his creations.

“Sam! My man! How are you?” Tommy grinned back without even thinking.

“Ah, you know, same as usual,” Sam waved a hand as if he was brushing away the question like an insect.

“A man of profound words as ever,” Tommy grinned.

Sam rolled his eyes, though there was a glimmer of amusement hanging behind the gesture. “Don’t you have work to do, strange child?”

Tommy straightened his back and widened his grin, “Ah, but of course. You know me, Sam, I’m a very busy man!” He held two fingers up to his forehead in a teasing salute.

“I don’t know if man is the right word – or busy, for that matter,” Sam smirked.

“Excuse me, I’ll have you know my many wives keep me more than occupied.”

Sam chuckled under his breath and drew a rag from the pocket of his apron. Tommy didn’t even get the chance to blink before it was hurtling at him with a thrill of cool air.

Tommy yelped and ducked underneath the piece of fabric semi-successfully. The shock did little to shake the mirth from his expression.

“Oi!” He called to Sam. He retrieved the cloth and attempted to throw it back at the triumphant man but missed by about a foot. It tumbled the floor and kicked up a cloud of rather pathetic dust, “I get it, I get it! I’m going.”

He made a point of turning around and stomping his annoyance into the cobbles. As ever, he disregarded the people he was sure to wake. Sam’s vision was most likely fixed on his back and another smile edged onto Tommy’s face with the knowledge that Sam was probably shaking his head in mock disapproval.

He only had a few more chores for that morning before he could set his mind at ease. He ran through his list of tasks in his head until he settled on his primary job: preservation of food for the winter. He and Ranboo had agreed to do that together.

Ranboo was still working on creating a better potion for the job. Tommy himself had witnessed the countless nights they spent standing over their cauldron in a room suffocated by smoke. Ranboo wasn’t so much of a fool to lie about it, however he did insist that he was fine despite the exhaustion clearly marring their gaunt face.

The pair usually convened in the town centre at daybreak, but for some reason they were yet to arrive. A twinge of unease had already made its presence known to Tommy and the break of the routine only caused it to worsen. The stagnant air was almost smothering, pressed close to his face. Sunburn had long since begun to crawl along his arms and dryness raked up his throat.

With an exaggerated sigh, he continued along the street that turned from cobble to dirt as he made his way deeper into the trees. Ranboo lived on the very edge of the village in a stone cottage. Usually, people were clamouring at the rickety door by now, begging for some of their potions.

 No-one knew how Ranboo could access magic of such strength. Fae blood had long since dwindled in the population, so only a select few people held the faintest remnants of the power it once promised. Yet here Ranboo was, possessing more magic than anyone else in the area had in a century. At the age of seventeen, he the first mage the village had seen since the death of Snifferish.

As Tommy continued through the houses and tents, the silence only budded into an increasingly disconcerting feeling. He knew that it must merely be the lack of a breeze’s gentle companionship, but the white noise continued to pluck the strings of anxiety in his brain.

Ranboo’s house stood as it usually did: crooked and crumbling but still vertical. The only difference was the lack of smoke that rose from the chimney; usually a thin cloud of it was tossed into the air from potions he brewed. Yet the stillness that held the world captive seemed to offer no exception.

He lifted a hand to the metal doorknob, cool in the blistering heat, and turned it. He paused before daring to push the door open.

A roaring disquiet filled his mind. Panicked thoughts threatened him that something was perilously wrong. He rested his hand against the door, though whether that was to balance himself or push it open, he wasn’t sure. Finally, he dared to nudge it open and look inside.  

“Ranboo?” his call shook at the edges.  

The only response was the echo of his own voice reverberating across stone and bookshelves. He tentatively placed a foot across the threshold to scan the room.

Dusty light filtered through the window, alighting books bleached by the sun, a shabby wooden table and a cauldron resting upon lifeless coals. Potions lined rows of shelves of every colour imaginable – from velvet purple to lavish gold. Yet, amid it all, there was still no sight of the mage.

He willed his legs to carry himself further into the room. Hope still feebly burned in his chest and he did his best to shade it from the crushing fear. His heart beat oddly slowly, like he was dreaming. He trekked over to Ranboo’s bedroom.

“Ranboo? You need to get up,” he yells through the door, rapping his knuckles against it until they were littered with splinter.

He was met with no response.

No call, no movement, not even the rustle of bedsheets.

Tommy’s vision wavered in front of him, like the sun reflected by blistering tiles.

“If you don’t reply in a few seconds, I’m gonna come in,” he did his best to calm the quivering in his voice.

And yet there was still no response. He didn’t even allow himself to take a breath before he forced himself to shove the it open.

He knew what he would see seconds before the door opened and immediately found himself to be correct. Fluttering anxiety sunk into a dull resignation as the sight met him. Cold sheets lay upon the bed, still scrunched up as if someone recently awoke. The rest of the room was littered with ancient spell books and papers and an old table they had been working on sat unused in the corner.

It was a strange thing, the table. Crafted of swirling black stone with a crimson cloth folded over it. The most interesting thing, however, were the inscriptions carved into the sides; jagged lines engraved about a centimetre deep in some alien language. Ranboo had been trying to decipher it for days and was yet to find success.

Despite the clutter, there was no sign of life within the walls. Though Tommy had guessed what he would see, the sight etched into reality was even more crushing than he could have guessed.

He strode over to the rickety bedside table and began shuffling through the papers scattered across it. Ranboo’s looping handwriting spelled out potion ingredients and ancient myths, but nothing remarked on their whereabouts. His heart clenched in his chest every time he thought he could have found a script of use, however, upon further investigation, it never was. A breath shuddered from his chest. He took a step back, heedless of the papers he was trampling.

Ranboo’s house was stifling. Even being in there wrapped a shadow around Tommy’s neck so his breathing quelled, and a tremor infested his bones. He stumbled to the door before he could process he was moving.

The outdoors took him into its gentle arms the moment he tripped over the threshold. He blinked in the sun – now hanging above him – and tried to shake the clutter from his mind. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair as it passed. He realised, with a start, that the world was alight with life once more. Birdsong tripped over the trees rustling and clouds cascaded across blue expanse. Just feeling the wind brushing against his skin was enough the bring clarity back to his thoughts.

Ranboo was probably just out gathering materials or something – the mage was known for their poor memory. Tommy had no reason to overreact as he did. In the new ripple of air, breathing flowed easier. A butterfly waltzed by him, sapphire blue under the sun’s golden face.

There was no reason to panic – not really. So, he shut Ranboo’s door, flinching in the memory of him staggering away from it just seconds earlier, and followed the path back up to the village. He could tell Sam about the disappearance there. Sam would know what to do.

Climbing back up seemed to take half the time it did to get there alongside the renewed rushing of the river. A young girl with a yellow dress and dark hair escaping from a hat frantically waved at him from the beside the bakery. Tommy didn’t know her very well, but she waved at him and Ranboo whenever they passed and Ranboo used to give her reading lessons.

“Where’s Ranboo?” she called at him, her brown eyes sparkling.

“I’m not sure, ‘Lulah. I’m on the hunt for him.”

Her eyes widened and her hand clasped around her notebook, “I hope you find them.” She said it like there wasn’t a trace of doubt in her six-year-old mind that Tommy would find him.

He grinned at her, trying to exude confidence, “I will, don’t worry. They probably just forgot who I was or some shi- or something.”

She nodded and tried to twist her face to match his determination, “You’re a big man, you’ll find him.”

He nodded solemnly, “Of course I will.”

He then held his fist out, which she ran over to hit with her own. If it was anyone else, Tommy would withdraw his hand at the last second and laugh in their face, but he actually somewhat liked Tallulah and he didn’t want to disdain her view of him. He had done that to Ranboo so many times that they refused to fist bump him anymore. That was something Tommy never hesitated to pretend to be upset over. Ranboo only ever responded by rolling their eyes and telling him to ‘get over it’.

“See you later, ‘Lulah,” he said, grinning down at her wispy figure. Her smile was as bold as ever, though, and she wore it with pride.

He strode away from her with a straighter back and pride swelling in his chest. She always beamed at him as if he was the most glorious man to ever exist, so he couldn’t help feeling like, somehow, he could live up to her expectation of him. The feeling was always fleeting – quickly being crushed by the dread of knowledge that it was unattainable – but he allowed himself to bask in the feeling while it still resided. A cloud passed over the sun as he approached the blacksmith, smudging the light with wisps of shadow.

He didn’t bother knocking, instead simply pushing into the boiling heat and immediately jumping to cover his ears from the metal clashing.

“Sam,” he yelled over the onslaught of sound, “Sam!”

The man looked up upon the second call. His hand ceased mid-air, like Tommy’s call had literally caught onto his wrist. He blinked owlishly up at Tommy and a faint smile creased his lips.

“Hey, Tommy. You good?” he placed his tools onto the table beside him.

Tommy leaned against a shelf, “You don’t know where Ran is, do you?”

“No? I assumed he was in his house.”

Tommy shook his head, “They’re not. I don’t know where they are.”

Sam’s smile folded into a frown and his forehead glistened with sweat, “I mean, I’m sure they’re okay. He can’t be in too much danger around here,” he paused, contemplating, “unless…” his voice trailed off, left hanging in the air with infinite gruesome possibilities swirling around it.

“Unless what?” Tommy blurted out. He didn’t think he could stand the silent fear Sam emanated.

Sam’s frown deepened, and he froze in the middle of removing his heavy leather gloves. “The only thing I can think of is that the fae might have… you know,” he said it not with a horrific finality, but with a suspended curiosity. His eyes were distant, rapt in his pondering.

Tommy swallowed around a lump in his throat. He absentmindedly began picking at his hand and peeled a patch of dried skin from around his nail until blood welled in his cuticle, “Wha- why would they want Ranboo?”

“There have been rumours that they’re getting… restless. Ranboo is extraordinary. Maybe they’d want to investigate his powers. But it’s been years since anyone was taken…”

A bitter, yet familiar, taste bit Tommy’s tongue. He did his best to swallow the bile, but the dawning realisation that Sam was right didn’t hesitate to begin eating away at his stomach.

“Then- then what do we do?”

The pensive look had evaporated from Sam’s face, instead replaced by grim determination.

“Well, we don’t know anything for sure, but it’s a serious breach of the agreement, if it was the fae,” something dark and bitter in his eyes said that he was far more certain than he was willing to let on. “Leave it for a while. We can send some smoke signals for now, see if he comes back, but if they don’t, we’ll need to take some real action.”

“I need to go looking for them! We can’t just leave him in the forest somewhere – especially if the fae has him.”

Sam snapped his head up and pinned Tommy with his glare, “No.” The clipped word left no room for argument.

“No? Why not? They’re my best friend!”

“I don’t care. You’re not risking your life to find them. We can start an official search later, but you’re not going.”

Tommy glowered, affronted, “But why not?”

“You’re sixteen, Tommy. You’re a kid. I’m not gonna let you into the forest, even if it is your best friend you’re looking for.”

Tommy’s mouth dropped open, “But-”

Sam held a hand up, “I don’t care if you’re angry and I don’t want to hear any more objection. You’re not going into the forest. You’re a child.”

“I’m not a child-”

“Yes, you are. I’m not going to argue with you any more on this.”

Tommy locked onto Sam’s brittle eyes. He gritted his teeth as Sam stared back with equal determination. Blue battled gold head on, though Tommy quickly realised that his fight was futile.

“Fuck you,” he muttered and tore his eyes away. He slouched in place and folded his arms over his chest, settling for hoping he could burn a hole through the floor if he glowered at it for long enough. Sam didn’t offer any consolation. He simply picked back up the metal he was working and held it over the fire. Finally, he smirked slightly at Tommy,

“Are you really sulking?”

Tommy gaped at him, “Wha- no! Men don’t sulk.”

“But boys evidently do.”

Tommy didn’t respond to that. Instead, he glared one last time and stormed from the room, making sure to slam the door behind him. Even then, he could hear the last traces of Sam’s laughter within the building.

He marched across the village square and lurked in a corner shaded by the candlemaker’s home. He waited for a few minutes for Sam to run out and apologise for mocking his masculinity, but he never did. Instead, the clangs of metal resumed, and Tommy glowered even more at the cobble.

That was when the man caught his eye from across the square.

He was tall and thin with features so sharp they could’ve been carved from marble, except his eyes glinted too brightly to be anything but living. He was clearly rich, too. The coat that lay across his shoulders probably cost more than anything Tommy owned (which, to be fair, wasn’t saying much). Regardless of his apparent wealth, there was something intriguing about his perfectly straight back. He had brown eyes that were almost as sharp as the smile on his face.

Tommy squinted at him and tried to get a better look through the searing light. It wasn’t often that travellers stumbled into their village. Most people weren’t stupid enough to venture so far into the fae forest – the only unclaimed territory in the kingdom – to come across his home.

That was when the man looked at him with pupils that sliced through his very soul. A smile split his face, revealing teeth that looked like they could rip through Tommy’s flesh effortlessly.

Tommy pressed his lips together and dared himself to take a step out of the darkness.

“Oi, the fuck do you want?” he snapped at the man.

The man’s eyebrows arched so his unusually smooth forehead wrinkled. Then his ears caught Tommy’s eye. They were large and pointed, laden with piercings and chains. Suddenly, Tommy didn’t feel quite so confident to swear in his face anymore.

“Well, that’s not a very polite way to greet a visitor.” His voice rang out across the square, woven with musical notes. The words tipped in waves, entrancing and beautiful. Such a simple sentence was enough to hook Tommy, so he longed to hear the man speak more. He wished to curl up and listen to him speak forever with.

He gritted his teeth and tried to chase the feeling from his bones. “Sorry,” he growled, making it abundantly clear that he most definitely wasn’t.

The man’s lips quirked slightly to the side. “Well, I suppose I don’t mind too much. Though I feel like the boy who was so rude to me at least owes me an introduction.”

Tommy’s jaw ached from pressing his teeth together so hard. He narrowed his eyes, untrusting of himself to respond. He had a feeling that, should he say a single word, he’d spill his entire life story to the man with the musical voice, heedless of the lessons he’d grown up learning.

The man gestured at him to speak. Still, he didn’t. Then, the man shrugged, “I mean, you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. You may call me Will, though.”

The rules had been carved into Tommy’s brain since before he could even talk. Every child grew up learning them religiously – the fae often did pick on the young. And, at the very top of the list, was Rule One: Never tell the fae your name.

It was just Tommy’s luck that he’d already broken rule two: always be respectful. He wasn’t willing to stick his neck even further into the guillotine.

“What is your business here?” he growled.

The man – Will – shrugged, “I wished to talk to the town Elder. You wouldn’t happen to know where they are?”

It took all of Tommy’s willpower to not tell him that he could fuck right off. He did his best to shelf his pride and gestured for Will to follow him. Unease creeped up his spine, pricking his back. He’d heard stories about the fae, of course, about the tricksters lurking deep within the trees, but he’d never really expected to see one. They hadn’t been spotted in this village, in Tommy’s haven, in decades. They were known for disliking human company, so most kept to themselves.

He grimaced as he opened Sam’s door. Sickness writhed and spat in his stomach and, judging by Sam’s stunned look, the fear was written plainly across his face.

“What happened?” Sam asked with searching eyes.

“There’s a fae outside.” Tommy had prayed his voice wouldn’t waver but, alas, it did. He never was a good liar.

Concern was smothered by shock on Sam’s face, “A what?”

Tommy couldn’t bring himself to say it again. He pointed over his shoulder at the square, where Will loitered as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “He said he wants to talk to you,” he mumbled.

Sam shoved past him before Tommy even realised he moved.

Will’s eyes lit up with a predatory gleam as Sam stepped across the threshold of his home.

“Ah, I suppose you’re an elder here?”

Sam clamped a hand around Tommy’s shoulder, “I am. What do you want from us? It’s been a long while since you’ve taken it upon yourselves to visit us.” Sam was almost as tall as Will, and far burlier. Yet, there was something far more deadly in the delicate sharpness of Will’s limbs. It was like putting a weary hammer against a set of professional knives.

Will grinned, once again flashing those sharp teeth, “I believe you call meetings when there’s something important to discuss. I don’t particularly wish to talk about this in broad daylight.”

Even Tommy could tell that it was a command. Sam nodded curtly, “Follow me.”

He relinquished Tommy from his protective grip and strode towards the town hall. Tommy instinctively trailed after him like a lost duckling, but Sam turned back at the clunk of his footsteps. “Go inside, Tommy. This isn’t your conversation.”

Tommy didn’t even try to protest that time. He wasn’t so naïve as to think that Sam would ever let him listen in on their meetings until he was at least eighteen. His cheeks flushed and he nodded. He watched Sam guide Will to the largest building in the square and welcome him inside.  

He stepped back into the forge as the ringing screech of the town bell echoed around the buildings. Tommy flinched and slammed the door shut behind him. The town was set alight by its toll as several adults stumbled across the square to the Community House.

Tommy pressed his ear to the door, listening intently until the footsteps faded entirely and he was positive that the town square was empty again. It was only then that he dared to push the door open and slip out of the blacksmith. He padded over the cobbles like a ghost under the sun’s watchful gaze. He had never done this alone before. Usually, he and Ranboo would sneak into every meeting to listen in but, with a jolt of anxiety, he remembered that Ranboo wasn’t there.

If anything, it only spurred him on further. He slipped past the door and round the back of the Community House, making sure to noiselessly crawl below the windows. He had learned to manoeuvre silently years ago when Ranboo tried to teach him to hunt. He couldn’t shoot a bow to save his life and he always got tangled in traps and snares, but he quickly learned about edible plants, and moving stealthily was a skill he was sure not to forget.

Vines snaked up the back of the Community House. Ranboo had secretly put a strengthening spell on them years ago so he and Tommy could climb them. It was the only way to access the tiny window opening into the rafters. Tommy faced them with his back to the forest. He stretched out his hands for a moment and reached up to grasp one of the vines.

He memorised this path years ago, to the point where he’d be willing to bet that he could climb the wall in his sleep. He hauled himself up the rugged brick until his fingers curled around the window. No one but him and Ranboo ever came up here so when he looked into the rafters, the usual coat of dust smothered the wood and cobwebs were strung between the planks. The window had shattered years ago and no one else had bothered to fix it since it was so high up. Thus, it was left the perfect spot to get in. He pulled himself up through the window, careful not to accidentally cut himself.

He silently positioned himself in the deepest corner of the rafters where he was completely encompassed in shadow. He was certain that no one could see him unless they knew where to look.

He watched silently, catlike in the shadow. A crowd of people were sat around a grand table, completely silent, while Will and Sam stood at the head. Will’s playful deadliness was a stark contrast to Sam’s grim determination.

People murmured amongst themselves as they got settled. Neither Sam nor Will said anything. No one even looked in Tommy’s direction.

The murmuring subsided as Sam cleared his throat and gestured to Will.

“I apologise for calling you all here,” he said, though his commanding voice was oddly quiet, “but it was late notice, and we have a few things to discuss.”

Will grinned, “Thank you for the introduction. You may all call me Will and, as I’m sure you know, I come from the forest to speak with you over a recent issue.” People’s stares towards him were oddly blank. When Tommy thought he was enraptured by the fae’s voice, he was clearly not as affected as the crowd Will spoke to. Something deadly shrouded his true expression so Tommy found himself unconsciously trying to shuffle further back into the corner. As soon as he did so, he was sure that Will’s eyes flicked towards him for a moment. The second he got a closer look, however, Will was looking around the table so intently that Tommy thought his eyes must have deceived him.

Sam nodded, as if telling him to continue. Wilbur ignored the poignant look, though, still looking around the ocean of faces all captivated by his every word. Finally, he started again, “You see, I awoke this morning to find a fae had gone missing.” Tommy’s stomach clenched at those words. That couldn’t be coincidental. Will continued speaking, though, “he was very young, only around fifty. So, you can understand why it is such a concern that he’s missing.”

Tommy swallowed. His arms snaked around his torso in a protective gesture. His back ached from leaning against the wall for so long. Sam seemed to be sharing in Tommy’s shock as his lips hung slightly parted. He blinked at Will, “I actually intended to ask you a similar thing. Our strongest mage was gone from their bed this morning.”

Will tipped his head to the side in an oddly birdlike gesture, “Oh, really? How curious.” Surprise played along his eyebrows, though the fair folk’s deception was a delicate art to which they had mastered to the fullest degree. They used dishonesty like linseed oil on a canvas, twisting and warping the truth to do their bidding, but never fully smearing over the underlying honesty.

“Curious is one word for it,” Sam muttered.

Will snapped his head towards the man, “You say that as if you know more than you are letting on,” his rage flashed before him like a firework exploding. Captivating yet scorching.

Sam held his hands up in front of him in a pacifying gesture, “Of course not. I genuinely know nothing of this fae’s disappearance.”

Will narrowed his eyes, but let it be. “In that case, I fear there may be more going on here.”

This time it was Sam on the offensive, “You mean to tell me you didn’t take our mage?”

“Why would the fae want to do that?” Will snapped, his eyes ablaze. Sam leapt back.

“I apologise. I didn’t mean to disrespect you, however, you’ll agree that it was suspicious.”

Just as quickly as the fire shot up, it was extinguished. The searing fury dulled back to delicate calculation, “I do see what you mean, yes. Though I can assure you that the fae are not holding your mage.”

Sam seemed to relax at that, “I’m glad. I presumed as much, but I suppose we have reason to be suspicious of one another.”

Will tipped his head in agreement, “That we do, and it is something I wish to mend in the future.”

It was then that a woman raised her hand to speak, “When did our mage go missing?”

Sam sighed, “This morning. My son found his house to be deserted and let me know immediately. We didn’t want to panic anyone by telling you just yet, but we were just about to launch a search as Will go here.”

Most of the words faded immediately from Tommy’s memory under the singular syllable holding so much meaning. Sam had called Tommy his son. He had never done that before, no matter how much Tommy adored him as a father. The word dripped with love and affection and Tommy was crushed by the sheer weight of the meaning. He gawked at Sam from the rafters, staring into the face of his now apparent father.

He did his best to push the warmth that pacified his thoughts from his body as Will started speaking again. “And you’re sure that he did not simply go missing? Humans aren’t exactly renowned for their sense of direction.”

Sam shook his head, “They may have memory problems, but they’ve lived here for almost seventeen years. He couldn’t get lost if he tried. And, trust me, he’s tried.”

“If you’re sure. However, we’re still yet to solve either problem.”

Sam nodded, “Well, I have no reason not to believe you, so I think we should start looking further afield. It can’t be a coincidence that they disappeared simultaneously.”

“Do you have any ideas?”

Sam hesitated with his lips slightly parted. When he spoke, it was with a cautious voice, “I think, if it’s a reoccurring event, we should report it to the king.”

“But what would the king wish to do with your mage?”

Sam can’t speak before a toothless old man interrupted with a raspy voice, “They’re looking for a legacy. Someone to be the new Mage of the Goddess.”

Will’s forehead creased as he frowned, “What do you mean?”

“The Goddess picks a mage every generation to pass some of her power to. Since Snifferish died, she’s probably looking for a new one. We’ve had almost a decade without one, so the King and XD’s Mage may have resorted to actively looking for a new one. But that doesn’t explain why they’d just kidnap him.” Sam said.

“Well,” Will said, “I can’t say I trust the new king. I suppose it’s likely that she would go after the fae.”

“Did you trust any of our monarchs?” Sam snapped.

“Of course not, but that’s beside the point. Don’t you think we should question your monarch?”

“Well, yes, but we don’t know if it was the king. It’s most likely just a coincidence.”

“You may not care much about your kind,” Will snapped, “but I do mine. As unwilling as you are to get your mage back, I do not share your sentiment. Fae do not just go missing. Someone must have taken him, and I’m willing to go to any lengths to get him back. You may disregard your missing mage, but I refuse to do the same.”

“Of course, I care about our mage, but I also understand that we need to think rationally.”

Will and Sam glared at each other with so much animosity that Tommy could practically see the sparks flying between their burning eyes. Flaming gold clashed with frigid brown.

But Sam backed down, “I understand that you miss your fae, but I assure you King Eret has no reason to take him.”

“If you’re so confident in your claim, it won’t do any damage to look for him, would it? Someone can travel there with me to look for them and, if you are correct, we’ll come back unharmed and emptyhanded.”

Sam shook his head immediately, “Absolutely not, no. I’m not risking anyone’s life to look for someone who isn’t even there.”

Will looked like he was about to retort but was cut off by a sudden silence descending upon the room. Any muttering shut off. Any rustling leaves ceased their whispers. Even the gentle rasp of the crowd’s breath was muffled.

And, hanging above the table, was a swirling black cloud silently twisting and curling like smoke in a sphere of darkness. It cast shadows across people, cutting over faces with curling tendrils of murky abyss. Tommy, too, found himself captivated by the mass. If he looked into it for long enough, he had the feeling that he could fall into it. It looked like it was endless – a void of ash.

Just as silently, the cloud pressed together until it compacted into a tangible shape. Upon the table now rested a bird – a raven, Tommy guessed – with an ashy letter clutched in its beak. Still, tendrils of smoke wrapped around it and drifted lazily towards the ceiling. It hopped towards Sam over the table and held its head forwards as if offering the note.

It blinked up with eyes as dark as a starless sky. No candlelight was reflected in them, so they appeared to cave endlessly inwards.

Sam reached out a tentative hand and, slowly, pinched the paper from the raven’s beak. Countless eyes, including Tommy’s, examined him as he unfolded the note and held it up. His face was unreadable as he scanned the note, but Tommy noticed that his eyes didn’t seem to be moving as he stared at it.

Eventually, he held it up to the crowd and Tommy realised with a start that the raven was gone. He strained his eyes to look at the note.

He caught sight of the single word traced in looping handwriting occupying the full piece of paper. It read: L’manburg.

Though the outside world had resumed its conversation, the room was still completely unmoving.

“She wishes for us to go to the capital.” Sam muttered. He still hung onto the paper, which seemed like it should’ve ripped from the tightness of his grip.

“She does.” Will breathed, “though I do not bow to mortal gods, I still believe we should listen to Her.”

Sam nodded gravely. There was a haunted look in his eyes, which he seemed to be unable to tear from the page before him.

“In that case, I think I have an idea as to who will join me.” And those eyes – those frozen brown eyes – settled precisely upon Tommy.

Chapter Text

Tommy couldn’t breathe under the crushing weight of so many eyes.

It pressed against his lungs as, in a unified motion, the crowd turned their heads to face him. It was only when golden eyes brimming with horror pressed into him also that Tommy realised the full extent of the situation. All colour had drained from Sam’s pallid face, like he was about to be sick. Tommy tired to press further back into the shadow, but he quickly discovered that his battle was futile.

“Tommy?” Sam whispered, curled in a hushed despair, “I told you to stay in the forge.” Sam didn’t look angry. Instead, he looked mortified. That was somehow a thousand times worse.

Will’s eyes gleamed with triumph. Tommy shuffled out from the rafters until he found a bookshelf that he could use to haul himself down. He did so and landed with a thump on the wooden flooring beside Sam.

Will raised his eyebrows. “Tommy, huh?”

Sam glared at him before Tommy could respond, “That’s not his real name. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Oh, I know. I can tell when it is.”

Tommy stood beside Sam, shuffling his feet. He suddenly felt so much smaller than the two men he stood beside.

Finally, Sam sighed, “I’m not going to tell you off here, but I’m not happy with you.” Tommy’s cheeks were stained with shame, but he nodded. Sam’s hand fit in its old place on Tommy’ shoulder before he spoke to Will, “he’s not going with you. Absolutely not.”

“And why is that? Don’t you think it’s his time to see the real world?”

“He’s sixteen.”

“Almost seventeen,” Tommy piped up, despite the embarrassment. Sam glowered at him.

“Don’t you think that he should be allowed to make his own decisions? You can’t protect him forever, you know.” Will’s eyes were oddly reflective with a predatory gleam.

“I know,” Sam growled, “but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a child. I’m responsible for him.”

“Well,” Will turned to the table with his hands splayed a grand gesture, “is there anyone else here who would like to go with me?”

Tommy knew perfectly well that the people around the table weren’t the adventuring sort. Most of them were the people who refused to leave with everyone else as they turned of age. So, of course, there was silence. People averted their gazes, as if they could will themselves to disappear should they stare at the table for as long as possible.

Will smirked, “That seems to be evidence enough. Tommy, would you care to join me?”

Tommy froze. A war silently waged in his chest, brutal and fierce. He dug his nails into his arm, trying to find reality in the twinge of pain. He was caught between the pull of two universes – held captive by the gravitational fields. He was stuck with the promise of infinity, yet no way to reach it. He didn’t notice a drop of blood trace its way down his arm and land on the ground and seep into the wooden floorboards.

Will held a single hand out, promising a new wealth of life and the lucidity of fear. Tommy faltered before it.

Finally, he made his decision.

He could bring himself to look into the despairing eyes of his father as he, so slowly, pressed his hand into Will’s. And just like that – like two broken shards of glass slotting together – the deal was sealed. It wasn’t like the stories – there was no light, no excruciating pain, no feeling that his free will had been plucked from him. Instead, he was just accompanied by the sinking realisation that he had chosen his universe - and it wasn’t his family’s.

But he had to get Ranboo back, no matter the cost.

Will had a jubilant smile carved into his face, though, in the candlelight, it appeared as more of a sardonic grimace.

He released Tommy’s hand and Sam’s fingers grasped his shoulder even tighter. Sam didn’t seem to be breathing.

“That settles it, then. Tommy will join me travelling to the capital.”

Tommy tried to ignore the guilt pooling in the pit of his stomach.

***

Half an hour later, people were back to working as usual, but a new tension blanketed over the town, smothering the scent of pine trees and flowers with fear.

Tommy stood beside Sam in the workshop, who practically ran around and grabbed scraps of metal like they personally offended him. He glared at his table as he accidentally ran into it. Tommy was somewhat grateful that he was being ignored, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t simultaneously hurt. Shame was still draped around his shoulders, and it fit his form far too well.

Finally, Sam stood behind his table with his tools in hand, yet with no energy to utilise them. He stared into empty space before him, eyes fixed in abyss. Tommy watched as he silently sunk to his knees, grasping onto the table for support. His head was bowed, and his hands clasped above the table like he was trapped in deep repentance. He didn’t cry, though. Hopelessness traced his face, like Tommy had ripped all his energy away.

All Tommy could do was watch noiselessly from where he stood, looking into a world so separate from his own that he could never truly breach it again. Sam had always seemed so stoic to him – undefeated by any human or beast. Yet, now, as Sam collapsed, he didn’t seem like some grandiose hero or the image of perfection.

Instead, he seemed human.

Painfully, inescapably human.

And all Tommy could do was stare as he fell apart on the dusty floor. His veins traced his skin like cracks upon a marble statue, yet somehow, they only added to the beaty of the creation.

“I’m sorry,” Sam breathed to the ground, “that you need to leave. I didn’t know I was forcing you to stay.”

And that was when Tommy’s heart shattered.

“You weren’t.” his voice was strangled by remorse.

Sam looked up at him, his eyes a tarnished bronze, “I was, though. You wouldn’t be so desperate to leave if I hadn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t you. It never was.”

“You made a deal with a fae, Tommy. Why else would you be so desperate to leave?” His words splintered into a thousand pieces in the smoky air.

“I have to. I can’t wait here, knowing Ranboo’s out there somewhere. And I’m not really leaving. I’ll be back soon.”

“So you’re sure.” He didn’t bother posing the acrid sentence as a question.

Though it was bitter on his tongue, Tommy couldn’t bring himself to lie, “I am, yeah.”

Sam gave a haunted nod, “Please just be careful. You don’t know if you can trust a fae.”

“I know. I promise to stay safe.”

“I don’t think I could live with myself if anything happened to you. You’re everything to me.”

Tommy thought he felt guilty before, but it was nothing compared to this new mortal wound. It was like Sam tore out his heart to carve the words in, unknowing of the agony he caused.

“I can stay, if you want me to,” his voice was hollow. Lies were scratched bone deep into everything he said, and this was no exception, however he couldn’t bring himself to say anything else.

“No, you can’t. You made a deal with the fae. You can’t back out now.” Sam’s façade of a smile was long dead and rotting. The cracks in his lips and callouses scarring his hands were master storytellers, but they were nothing compared to the rot that seemed to ravage Sam’s expression.

Tommy didn’t think he could reply to that.

He took a step towards Sam, who hauled himself up and leaned against the table. He stepped again, like he was approaching a wild animal. Then another.

Finally, he wrapped his arms around the man. Sam, usually so impassive in the face of hardship, showed more bravery in breaking than he ever could in forcing himself to say put together.

Leaning against Tommy, a tear dripped down his cheek and fell onto Tommy’s shoulder. More were quick to join it, until they formed a stream cascading down his face and pooling on Tommy’s shoulder – the lake below a mountain range. His arms curled around Tommy, and he leaned down to bury his face in the boy’s hair. He clung onto his son like he’d never let go – like Tommy was the last feebly burning star in the centre of a dying universe. And even Tommy was leaving him now.

“You can come with me, you know,” Tommy muttered into his ear.

“No, I can’t.”

Tommy wanted to protest, to beg Sam to join him, but something in the certainty Sam spoke with that forbade him from arguing. He didn’t ask why, or demand that Sam joined him. He just held the man tighter, heedless of how his lungs cried out for air.

Finally, Sam released him, like a leaf wrenched from a tree to flitter away at the mercy of the wind. When he stepped away – only a foot of distance – Tommy somehow understood that this was it. Sixteen years spanned the space between them, though even that wasn’t enough to pull them back together. Sam had accepted the fate, regardless of if Tommy truly understood what it meant.

He walked away from Tommy to the fireplace. Beside it hung several weapons Sam said he kept for sentimental value. A rusted mace clung onto the brick beside a dented shield and a scorched club. Most interestingly, though, was the sword hanging beside them. No matter how long it lay abandoned, it never seemed to gather dust or age and yet there was a timeless quality to it. Set in the handle was a stone the same colour as the raven’s eyes – immeasurable darkness collapsing in on itself. The same black that looked like you could get so lost in it as to never return.

Sam wrapped his hand around the smooth leather handle and lifted it from the wall. He stared down at it reverently for a moment. Then, he turned to Tommy and held it out like an offering. All words passed by unspoken.

Tommy walked towards it, pulled forwards as if by a magnet. He stretched his hand towards the handle, still transfixed by the depthless stone. His fingers wrapped around it, like it had been crafted perfectly to fit into his grip alone. It felt oddly light in his hand, perfectly weighted.

Sam watched him, his expression almost as dark as the stone before him.

“An old friend gave this to me during the war. He said he gave it to the bravest warrior he knew. It only seemed fitting to continue the legacy.”

The bravest warrior he knew.

Tommy wouldn’t consider himself a warrior. He wouldn’t consider himself brave either – not really. But clasping the sword in his hands, he realised that nothing had felt so natural before. The weight of it already felt like just an extension of himself – like the sword was a body part he had simply forgotten about.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

Sam shook his head, “Don’t thank me. I should be the one thanking you. I wish I got to spend more time with you. It feels like our meeting was cut short.”

Tommy frowned slightly, but didn’t question Sam. It was then that he managed to force out the question he had longed to ask since they left the community house.

“When you were in the meeting you referred to me as your son. Why?”

Sam froze. His expression was unreadable, a jumbled mess of emotions all clawing to take over. “I… didn’t realise I said that. But I suppose I’ve grown to view you that way. I apologise if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No,” Tommy nearly yelped when trying to stop Sam’s apology, “no, don’t worry. I just didn’t know you thought of me that way.” he paused, burdened by a thousand thoughts. “I’m glad you do.”

“How else could I view someone so perfect?” Sam whispered.

This time it was Tommy who felt the tears glazing his eyes. He didn’t allow them to fall, trying to build a dam before his emotion could get the best of them. His vision swam in front of him nonetheless.

“I love you,” he whispered back, the words so raw that they clawed at his throat. 

When Sam hugged him this time, it wasn’t desperation that forced them to cling to each other. Instead, it was love that tied them together. Adoration strung them together as their fate as family was sealed. No matter how far Tommy strayed from Sam’s side, a find golden thread would always bridge the earth between them. Sam would always promise Tommy a way home. Tommy clung to him like a flower twisting upwards as it strained to reach the sun. He basked in in nourishment of Sam’s affection, trying to find solace in such a bleak world.

And, when Sam replied, Tommy’s path was suddenly paved from intricately crafted stone, eternally lit by the promise of hope.

“I love you too, my boy.”

***

Will stood on the edge of the forest. Tommy approached him with a backpack sitting between his shoulder blades. Sam gave him a brief rundown of its contents when he prepared it for him which Tommy had already forgotten, but he was sure Sam put the right stuff in it.

Sam walked beside him to the forest with a hand resting upon his shoulder as ever. Tommy’s new sword hung at his belt, the hilt gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. Will didn’t have any of the gear Tommy was burdened with, but he seemed far more confident regardless.

“I see you’re ready to go.” Will said, gesturing to the trees.

Tommy nodded. For the first time, anxiety seeped into the pit of his stomach. Before now, he had moved in a dreamlike trance, however now the reality of the situation was finally sinking in. He was leaving Logstedshire with a fae and potentially no way home. His sweat clung to his skin and his teeth were clamped together so hard that his skull ached.

“Well,” Sam said to Tommy, “good luck and stay safe.”

Tommy nodded. He wasn’t going to let himself cry – not in front of Will, “I will. Don’t worry about me.”

“That’s an impossible thing to ask,” Sam said. Then, he curled his arms around Tommy again, welcoming him into one last gentle embrace. Tommy allowed himself to sink into it for a moment, getting lost in the warmth. The cold burn of reality was not merciful, though, and it quickly returned to bite him as Sam let go.

“Bye,” Tommy said. He knew he should say more – that he should thank Sam for everything, that he should cry and scream and beg to stay, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

Sam’s grimace was a dying flame – just flickering enough to know it was about to be blown out.

Will hung in the shadow of a pine tree as the pair stared at each other. Finally, he cleared his throat, “As touching as this departure is, I think we want to cover some ground before sunset.”

Tommy vigorously shook his head, “Yeah. Sorry. We should go.”

He turned from his father for what seemed like the last time before an expanse of green and forced himself to step into the trees.

“Wait!” a shrill call split the air. Tommy jumped around to see Tallulah sprinting towards him, her arms extended and her hat almost blowing off her head, “wait!”

Tommy didn’t have time to respond before she hurtled into his chest and flung her arms around him. She pressed her face into his t-shirt and clutched at him, her small fingers gripping the fabric like it was the end of the world.

“Hey, ‘Lulah” Tommy gasped, staggering backwards from the force.

She desperately looked up at him, her brown eyes imploring, “Is it true you’re leaving?”

Tommy wrapped his own arms back around her as he calmed from the shock, “Yeah, it is. But not for long,” he did his best to reassure her, “I’ll be back before you know it!”

“I don’t want you to leave,” she mumbled, burying her face in his shirt again.

“It’s okay. Trust me, I’ll be back before you even know it!” He looked over at Sam for any kind of reassurance, but Sam simply shrugged.

She gazed up at him again, “You promise?”

“I promise.”

She tore herself away from him and stuck her left hand out, her pinkie raised, “Swear it.”

It was a childish gesture, but she said it solemnly, like nothing in the world could be more important than a pinkie swear. Her face was set, and her hand didn’t waver before him.

So, he tried to match her serious energy. He raised his hand and hooked his pinkie in with her own, “I promise.”

Then, she smiled, seemingly satisfied with his response.

That was when Tommy noticed Will’s expression. He looked down at Tallulah from where he stood with something akin to intrigue. He recovered quickly and turned back to Tommy.

“Are we going or not?”

Tommy couldn’t tell if he was mocking or irritated, but he didn’t really care.

“Just because you don’t have anyone who cares enough to wave you off doesn’t mean you can be a bitch to me. But fine, come on.”

He was quick to march into the trees, not looking back. He didn’t linger for long enough to hear Will’s response, but he’d swear he heard Tallulah ask Sam, “What does bitch mean?”

Tommy grinned. At least he could leave a good legacy there in Tallulah.

Will hurried to catch up with him. They walked in silence for a few minutes.

“Human children are interesting,” Will remarked.

“I guess,” Tommy muttered. Then, he frowned, “you’re not calling me a child, are you?”

“I mean, not specifically-”

“Good. Because I’d have to clart you if you were.”

“-but,” Will interrupted, “that doesn’t mean the description is inaccurate.” Tommy glowered at him. “The little girl was interesting, though. I don’t think I’ve seen any of your young before, besides you.”

“Fuck off.”

Will smirked, “You’re always so polite, aren’t you.”

“Oi, you’re the one who made me come on this adventure of yours.”

“Even so, one would presume you’d have slightly more self-preservation than that.”

“Just call me Danger. That’s my middle name, you know. Tommy Danger Kraken Innit.”

“No it’s not,” Will scoffed, “I always know if someone’s telling me their real name, and that’s not it.”

“Yeah, well you’re not getting my real name, bitch.” Tommy spat.

“You can call me Will, you know. You don’t need to keep referring to me like that.”

Tommy just held up his middle finger in response. Finally, he asked, “So like, where exactly are we going?”

Will blinked at him, “The Capital.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, “Well, duh. I mean like, which way are we going? I don’t think I should be in the forest for a long time.”

Will stared, “You mean to tell me you don’t know which way the Capital is?”

“Of course I do! It’s… it’s uh…” he hesitated, “East.”

“Holy fuck,” Will breathed, “I’m travelling with an idiot.”

“Hey-”

“It’s North from here. You’d know that if you looked at a map.”

Tommy straightened his back, “I’m sorry if I’m not some fucking nerd like you, but I don’t waste my time with useless pieces of paper.”

“Those ‘useless pieces of paper’ would greatly help you if you got lost.”

“Well, yeah. But that’s why I have you. And I feel like it’s important to ask again if I’m gonna be killed for being here.”

“Not if I’m here with you. I know this forest better than any human ever could. You won’t be harmed if you’re by my side. I assume you know the rules, even if you’ve already broken one of them.”

“Yeah, of course I know that. Don’t tell them your name, don’t be rude, don’t accept their gifts, don’t accept food or drink, don’t thank them, don’t follow their music, don’t step into a faerie ring and don’t tell them if you or someone else has a baby,” he paused, “you know, that last one always confused me. Why the fuck would you care if I know a child.”

Will rolled his eyes, “Yeah, that one’s human nonsense. People hold this ridiculous notion that we’ll kidnap you children and turn them into changelings. That’s not true at all.”

Tommy nodded, “Good to know I can knock that one off the list.”

Dead leaves crunched beneath his feet. Though the breeze felt normal on his skin, there was something ghostly about it. Something in the way it stroked his face that murmured of something was off in the world. Something as expansive as the forest had never felt quite so claustrophobic before. A shiver ran up his back and he hugged himself to try and quell his shaking.

Will glanced over at him, “You good?”

“I’m fine,” Tommy snapped.

“I mean, the faewild can have some pretty bad affects of humans. If you need to stop, we can.”

“I said I’m fine.”

Wilbur didn’t seem quite so eager to talk to him after that.

They followed the river. Every now and then, something would catch Tommy’s eye. A shadow that seemed out of place, or a faint light dancing in the distance. Every time he strained his eyes to get a better look, though, it vanished before him. It didn’t help that Will kept glancing behind him like he was checking Tommy was still alive. Tommy wasted no time in glowering every time he caught the fae’s eye.

They walked until Tommy’s feet ached and his throat burned. His head swam with dehydration and the heat was growing more and more blistering by the second, even as the sun started its departure.

Will seemed to eventually notice his discomfort, as he turned around to find Tommy trailing much further behind him than he had previously. Dusk was settling over the sky in a great flame of orange.

“I take it you want to rest?” Will asked. There was none of the previous mocking lilt in his question.

“Yes please,” Tommy croaked, his throat searing.

Will gestured to him to follow and slipped between the trees to a small clearing beside the river. In the distance, the sun was just visible between the trees, though the rest of the sky was a deep blue. Tommy always loved twilight – he adored the cool half light staining everything it touched.

Will sat on the riverbank. He kicked his shoes off and dangled his feet in the water, lying back on the grass to stare up at the sky. Tommy wondered how someone could feel so at ease in the faewild. With a jolt, he remembered that Will was a fae. It was all too easy to see him as nothing more than human.

He flopped onto the ground too and hoisted his bag from his back. A bedroll was strapped to the top – something he was all too grateful for – and inside he found some rations, a coil of rope, flint and steel as well as some tinder, a waterskin and a mess kit.

He held the waterskin up, only to find it bone dry.

“Here,” Will called, “you set up where to sleep and I’ll fill that for you.”

Tommy frowned, “Doesn’t that count as accepting food or drink?”

Will shrugged, “I mean, I guess so. I promise it won’t do anything that normal water wouldn’t, though,” he sounded sincere enough, but Tommy didn’t relinquish the waterskin. Will rolled his eyes, “I can’t lie, Tommy. It’s just regular water, I swear.”

Tommy scowled at him but passed the skin over. He unlatched the bedroll and spread it over the ground as Will held the waterskin in the river.

“Here,” Will held it out to him.

“Thanks,” Tommy muttered. He lifted the water to his lips, relieved as his throat was cooled.

“No worries. You should probably go to sleep. We’re travelling a lot tomorrow.”

“What about you? Do fae sleep?”

Will hesitated, “I mean, yes and no. We can meditate for several hours to recover, which means we go into a state like sleep, but it’s not necessary for us. I’ll keep watch for a few hours and then go to bed myself.”

Tommy didn’t have the energy to question or argue. He just reached for some of the dried beef in his bad and stuffed it into his mouth. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was until he finished gnawing on full day’s worth of rations.

Once he finished, he fell backwards onto the bedroll. There was something oddly calming about the stars – not in the shallow beauty human attributed to them or the colours swirling together on the blue void. Instead, Tommy rested gladly in the feeling of smallness beneath them. There was no doubt under the sky’s endless depths that he was insignificant. It was a reminder that he didn’t really matter to the universe – nothing he did could ever touch the stars extending into nothingness.

He fell asleep with a smile ghosting his face.

***

“Hey,” someone whispers in his ear, “hey, wake up.”

Tommy rolls over in a daze, eyes still shutting the world out. He doesn’t know who’s calling him, but he wants them to leave him alone as he sleeps.

“Tommy,” they hiss again, insistently.

He hums at them angrily but slits his eyes open. He assumed it was Will being a dickhead again.

“The fuck do you want?” he mumbled.

But, when he opened his eyes completely, he realised Will wasn’t the person speaking. Will was sitting propped up against a tree, his eyes shut and his head lolling onto the bark.

Instead, before him stands a figure made of what looked to be a blue light. They’re blinding in the clearing, casting a cool glow upon everything in their vicinity. Two antlers grow from their hair, and their cape seems to flutter in the breeze, although the air is completely still. Tommy would have expected to be afraid of them, yet their aura is so calm that he couldn’t help but feel at ease, cradled by serenity.

He pushed himself up, sitting before the person. He could just about see the trees through their glowing body. He raised a hand to shade his eyes slightly.

“Who are you?” Tommy asked quietly. There was something familiar about them, like he’s seen her before. They had the same timeless quality as the sword beside him.

“I’m Snifferish,” the figure said, though his mouth didn’t seem to move. An axe hung by her side, stained and bloodied.

“Death’s mage?” Tommy muttered. He was still captured by tranquillity, so it was difficult to get the question out.

Snifferish nodded, “Yes. I wished to speak to you.”

Tommy pushed his hair out of his stinging eyes, “How? Aren’t you dead?”

Snifferish laughed slightly, “I am, yes. I’m able to take on this form because of my position in life. There hasn’t been a new Mage of Death yet, so I technically still hold that position. I won’t be able to truly move on until someone else has been claimed by Her.”

Tommy blinked at him. Tommy had never really thought about Lady Death seriously before. She always seemed unreal to him – elusive and mystical. She was something he couldn’t really believe, yet here Her most trusted mage was before him.

“Am I going insane?” he blurted at them. There was no way that they could be real.

“I mean, I don’t know. You could be, but I assure you I’m real.”

“Fantastic,” he mumbled. Some small part of him would prefer to be hallucinating than be really faced by Snifferish.

Snifferish knelt on the ground beside him. It was hard to look at her for too long before the light started burning his eyes.

“Something’s wrong,” Snifferish whispered, “I fear that something much worse may have happened to Ranboo than you think.”

Tommy blinked at him, “How do you know about Ranboo?”

“My Lady has been keeping a close eye on them for some time now. I’m afraid I don’t know where they are, but I suggest you be careful.”

Tommy’s mouth hung open for a moment in shock, “That’s all-” he jumped, remembering that he should be quiet to not wake Will, “that’s all you came here to tell me? That something’s wrong?”

Snifferish sat back on their heels, “Yes and no. I’m afraid I don’t know much more than you, but I’d advise that you be careful with who you trust.”

“Great advice,” he said, sarcasm painting his voice.

They rolled their eyes, “My point is that I’m going to keep a close eye on you. I want look into this as much as possible. But be careful.”

“Yeah, everyone’s been telling me to do that. I’m not stupid, y’know.”

“I never assumed you are. But I need to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into. There have been… disturbances in the Seelie Court recently.”

Tommy jumped at that, “Like what? What’s been happening?”

Snifferish shook their head, “I’m not entirely sure. I deal with the living and the dead, not with the fae. However, I’d advise that you don’t trust Will. You don’t know his motives.”

Tommy scoffed, “Is that it? Or are you going to give me even more useless advice?”

Snifferish frowned, “I’m not omniscient, you know. I can’t look very far into issues of the fae or XD’s territory.”

Tommy hadn’t heard much about XD before, but he knew enough. Logstedshire was an area ruled by Lady Death, so XD didn’t have much command. Each town was ruled by one of the gods – by the God of Life or the Goddess of Death. Most of the Upper Region was ruled by Death and the Lower Region ruled by Prime. L’manburg was the only exception, where both gods held equal authority.

“Right,” Tommy muttered, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“I plan on visiting Mage Foolish. I’ll try to get more information from the capital and his areas of influence. I wish to know what’s happening in the Lower Region and Las Nevadas.”

“Okay.” Tommy said, unsure of why she was telling him this. He blinked at them, realising that the sunrise was glowing behind them.

Snifferish seemed to have also realised this because he glanced backwards at it. “I should go. Will is likely to wake up soon.” She blinked as if she’d forgotten something. “Oh, hang on.” He held his hands out and what looked like a necklace materialised in the air. “Here,” she handed it to him, “don’t take this off. If you need me, just hold onto it, and say my name. I must warn you that it only works once. I had to get special permission from My Lady to get it, so be very careful.”

As soon as Tommy’s fingers wrapped around the necklace, Snifferish vanished in a cloud of light, like they had simply been brushed away by the wind. If it weren’t for the necklace clutched in his fingers, Tommy would probably think it was a dream.

Tommy quicky dropped the necklace as he realised it was ice cold, burning his fingers. He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm himself up and examined the necklace. A stone was set in it, the same ghostly light blue glowing faintly in the silver casing. The light pulsed slightly, in time with the blood thumping in his ears. It cast odd shadows around it, like spectres in the sunrise.

He lifted it up again, cautiously, to find that the delicate silver chain was the same temperature as the surrounding world, unlike the stone. He was careful not to touch it as he clasped it around his neck. Its presence was oddly peaceful still, like a piece of Snifferish’s calmness resided within it. He dropped the pendant down his shirt.

“Tommy?” Will called from where he sat, scrubbing at his eyes, “why are you awake so early?”

Tommy grinned, brimming with new energy, and leapt to his feet. “Get up, prick. We need to get going for the day.” Buried in his chest was the feeling that he shouldn’t tell him about Snifferish. Their warning hung above his head as a reminder not to trust the fae.

Wilbur narrowed his eyes, disgruntled at being woken up.

The sunrise seemed far more foreboding than anything quite so beautiful should. Tommy didn’t notice the crow take off into the sky from where it had sat, nestled in the branches of a tree.

Chapter Text

Travelling with Will was – in the simplest of terms – boring. It had only been an hour and Tommy’s dream of an action-packed adventure was already falling short. The only interesting thing he could do in the hours of walking was observe the forest surrounding him.

The wind whispered of life unimaginable to humans whenever it rustled Tommy’s hair, yet he never saw any animals. He’d assume that any deer or birds would avoid him – he saw a buck on the edge of the forest a few months ago and it had quickly scampered away – but there weren’t even any beetles clinging to the trees. It was like all life was just avoiding him for some reason. He was the only burning piece tinder in a world of ash.

“Hurry up,” Will called over his shoulder upon realising that Tommy was pacing far behind him.

“Fuck off, I don’t have lanky legs like you.” He hurried to catch up regardless.

He still hadn’t told Will about Snifferish. Her words still loomed over him; their fingers curled around his shoulders in a warning of the world’s silent disquiet. Unease wasn’t an easy feeling to get used to.

He stumbled alongside Will’s brisk march, who showed no indication of slowing down.

“Come on. We’ll be able to reach Nyx Lake before nightfall if we hurry.” Will said when Tommy stumbled and almost tripped over a tree root.

“Nyx lake?” Tommy asked.

Will frowned, “Have you ever had a geography lesson?”

“I don’t think so,” honestly, he couldn’t remember. Either way, Sam didn’t seem like the sort of person to know a lot about a map of Esempi.

“It’s where the Angel of Death was first spotted after a battle just North from here. People visit it every now and again to give thanks and remember the first war.”

Tommy frowned. He knew about the most recent war for independence, when L’manburg overthrew King Schlatt, about twenty years ago, but he didn’t know much past that. However, he didn’t really feel like receiving another condescending look from Will, so he left it.

He matched his pace to Will’s and said, “so, what’s it like the in faerie world?”

Will glanced at him, “Why do you ask?”

“I dunno. We don’t learn much about you other than how to avoid you.”

“I mean,” Will paused in contemplation, “I haven’t left the Seelie Court much. I’m still relatively young in the grand scheme of things.”

“How old is that?”

“About one hundred and fifty.”

Tommy snorted, “Oh yeah, practically a baby,”

Will rolled his eyes, “I didn’t say that. But, in fae years… yeah, that’s pretty young.”

“So how old are most of you?”

Will shrugged, “the average lifespan is around a thousand years.”

“A fucking-” Tommy blurted out, “holy shit.”

“I mean, it depends on perspective, really. You have pitifully short lifespans.”

Tommy glared, “Says the elderly bitch.”

The pair fell back into an uncomfortable silence as they walked. As much as Tommy would’ve liked to speak more, he couldn’t quite bring himself to.

They stopped at around noon for lunch. Tommy was already running dangerously low on dried beef and fruit, but Will promised that they’d go hunting when they reached the lake. Tommy hadn’t been hunting before, but he’d seen Sam and some of the other people in the village do it. The bows they used looked pretty cool.

The also stopped by the river to gather some more water since, though it felt cooler than the previous day, the heat was still bad enough for Will to snap at him to stay hydrated and keep in the shade. Tommy rolled his eyes but did as asked.

“Why is the faewild so fuckin’ weird?” Tommy demanded as the sun began to set. His feet and back were aching from walking.

“I mean, it’s only weird to you because you’re human. We view it very… differently.”

Tommy blinked, “What do you mean?”

“I see the passages and energy here. I see the life which hides itself from you.”

Tommy frowned, “What life? You’re not making much sense.”

Will paused, “Does it seem quiet to you? Like it should be teeming with life and yet it’s completely bare?”

“I-” Tommy stuttered, “yes. Why?”

“That’s not what I see. There are animals and fae everywhere – as well as paths to the Seelie and Unseelie courts. While I innately understand the forest, humans are left to stumble around and hope they don’t find themselves in our realm. To me, your world seems just as dull as mine does to you.”

The creeping feeling of being watched had already been crawling over Tommy’s skin, but it was already so much worse. Paranoia curled around his heart, constricting until it stuttered in his chest.

“It’s ok,” Will said, “no one will harm you so long as you’re with me.”

Tommy wished he could say that that wasn’t the problem. But Will marched on, so he kept the words closely guarded.

“Here,” Will called a few minutes later, frantically beckoning him, “the lake’s over here!”

He pushed a branch out of the way and, sure enough, the forest opened into a clearing. Mountains towered above them until they faded into mere shapes sketched into fog. Crows circled the peak like the blackened halo of Death. If Tommy squinted, a tower seemed to be placed upon one of the mountains like it was just randomly stuck there. Whether or not it was real or merely a cloud, though, he couldn’t tell.

And, turning his gaze downwards, he finally realised why it was called Nyx Lake. It seemed bottomless – composed of swirling black and grey which refused to reflect the drifting pink clouds. A small waterfall dripped dismally from the mountains, pushing gentle ripples across the glassy surface. Rocks surrounded it like broken teeth growing from a withered skull.

Will, however, didn’t seem quite so impressed. He looked over the lake with a deadpan expression.

“I will say,” he said to Tommy, “that this is one of the nicest mortal areas I’ve seen.”

Tommy didn’t bother replying. Instead, a small wooden cabin across the lake caught his eye. It was carelessly thrown together. Crooked wooden planks were nailed together - mismatched and splintered.

He pointed at it, “D’you reckon anyone lives there?”

Will raised a hand to his brow and squinted at it, “I highly doubt it. Then again, humans do tend to somehow find ways to live where they really shouldn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Will didn’t reply, instead examining the cabin still. “We should go check it out either way. Make sure no-one there will attack us in the middle of the night.”

And then he was off, marching over the moss that crawled its way up to the sand. Tommy rolled his eyes but tried to match his pace.

Once they got closer, he realised that the windows were glowing yellow. Will wasn’t perturbed and continued up to the door. He rapped his knuckles against it.

“Hello,” he called, “is anyone in there?”

“Will,” Tommy hissed, “I’m not sure if this is a good ide-”

The door swung open, and a young woman with long red hair stood in the doorway. She wore a simple green dress and corset, and a bandana held her hair back from her face. Her features were oddly delicate and very soft. A small smile rested upon her lips as she looked at Will.

“Hello,” she said with a sweet voice.

Will seemed to be at a loss for words, his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyes trained on her face. His hands hung at his sides. It took all of Tommy’s willpower not to burst out laughing at the sight. He bit back a smile and shoved Will out of the way.

“Hey, we were just wondering who lives here.”

The woman seemed to also be holding back her mirth, but she smiled down at him nonetheless, “It’s just me here, don’t worry.”

Tommy nodded, “Cool. I, uh- yeah. Sorry about him. He’s a bit of a dumbass-”

That seemed to wake Will up enough to glare at him, “Shut up, child.” He smiled at the woman in a way that he clearly thought was attractive. Tommy just thought he looked stupid. “It’s lovely to meet you. I didn’t think anyone would live here.”

She shrugged, “I like it here. It’s nice and quiet, you know?”

Will nodded vigorously, “Yes, of course,” he held a hand out, “you may call me Will.”

She shook the hand, “it’s lovely to meet you, Will. Not many travellers come to visit me often. I’m called-”

“Don’t tell him,” Tommy snapped, “he’s a fae.”

“A fae?” the woman looked taken aback, “I’ve never met a fae before.”

“Well,” Will straightened his back, disgruntled, “now you have.” Tommy pretended not to notice the blazing look Will gave him.

“I mean, I don’t suppose you’d do anything with my name if I gave it to you…” she pondered.

“Of course I wouldn’t. I promise that I won’t use you name to harm you.” Tommy had never heard Will promise something so casually before.

Her eyes sparkled, “Well you do seem trustworthy.”

“I literally cannot lie to you.”

“Ah, yes, I suppose that’s true. In that case, I’m Sally.”

“It’s absolutely wonderful to meet you, Sally.”

“Would you like to come in for a bit? I can get you some food and you can sleep here for the night, if you’d like?”

“That sounds great, thanks,” Will answered without hesitating.

“I don’t know about this Will,” Tommy muttered. Something felt off about the idea of a woman living by herself by a lake. And she seemed so eager to invite them in – very few people Tommy knew would be selfless enough to do that.

“It’s fine,” Will brushed him away, “she seems trustworthy.” He didn’t even look back at Tommy before following Sally into the house.

Tommy frowned and reluctantly stepped into the house. Will loitered by the door, his eyes trained on Sally.

“Stop simping,” Tommy muttered, nudging him with him elbow.

“I’m not simping. Shut up,” Will lightly shoved him back.

“Yes you are.”

“I told you to shut up.”

The cabin was drenched in the smell of smoke, but underneath that was something else buried in it. It was almost like the stables back in Logstedshire. Will leaned against the wall, as if that somehow made him look cool. Tommy was torn between laughing and glowering, so he stuck to just watching Sally as she drifted over to the table.

“Have a seat,” she said.

Will was quick to leap from where he loitered, “No, it’s okay! We can help.”

Sally beamed, “Oh, thank you! Can you help me with the vegetables please?”

“Of course,”

“And can-” she glanced at Tommy, “oh, sorry I didn’t get your name.”

Tommy folded his arms over his chest, “’s Tommy,” he muttered to the ground.

She didn’t seem perturbed, “Tommy, can you help me prepare the fish please?”

He nodded and wandered over to her, resentment unfurling in his chest.

He did as she said, preparing the fish. He’d done it before at home; they often fished in the river during the spring and summer, though he didn’t cook much. He picked it up quickly enough, though, and the food was set on the oak table in half an hour. Will and Sally kept incessantly glancing at each other the entire time. He couldn’t help but glance at the ceiling beams every few minutes and pray to whichever god was listening that they wouldn’t collapse. The house didn’t look the most stable.

Wilbur held a chair out for Sally, who beamed at him. Tommy was starting to feel slightly sick.

“So, what brings you here?” Sally’s question sounded open, but it was easy to tell that she was speaking to Will.

“We’re going to the capital. There was a disappearance we need to look into.”

“A disappearance?”

“What, are you just gonna ignore that Ranboo went missing too?” Tommy snapped at him, his patience rubbed thin.

Sally raised her eyebrows, “I don’t think he meant anything rude.” She didn’t sound angry, but Tommy’s fist clenched around the fork in his hand. He gritted his teeth and focused his eyes on the table.

Will barely even spared him a passing glance. It didn’t take long for the burning resentment to wither into a flickering resignation. He poked at his stew, trying to keep the scowl from his brow.

“It’s pretty dark outside,” Sally remarked. Tommy silently scoffed at how obvious the statement was, “would you like to sleep here? There’s a spare room across the hall.”

Will’s eyes lit up, “That’s great thanks,” he said, practically tripping over his words.

Her eyes crinkled, “Of course.”

Her eyes lingered on his face for just a few more seconds than they should have. The light may have deceived Tommy’s eyes, but he could’ve sworn that Will’s face was oddly red.

“Follow me,” she stood up once they finished their meal, “your room’s over here.”

She held a door from the kitchen open, where a small bed sat in the corner of a room. A wooden bedside table with flameless candle sat beside it. The rest of the room was oddly bare; extremely neat, like no one had stepped foot in it before. Tommy had to hold himself back from tugging Will’s sleeve and begging to go like he was a small child.

“You can take the bed, Tommy.” Will gestured to it with a sweeping gesture.

“Thanks?” he muttered.

“That’s very generous of you, Will.”

Will puffed out his chest slightly at Sally’s words.

Sally hung around in the doorway for a few moments, watching Will with an almost predatory look. Tommy stood in the centre of the room silently, refusing to take his eyes off her. There was something off in the way she moved. Every step was like she was walking upon air and her hands moved with precision he’d only seen in Will before. Yet there wasn’t anything else inhuman about her. She just seemed somehow eerie.

Finally, she walked out, shutting the door behind her. Will’s eyes lingered on the doorframe.

Once he was sure she was out of earshot, Tommy turned to Will, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Will jumped and threw his head round to look at him, “What do you mean?” he sounded genuinely confused.

“Do you really trust her?”

“Why wouldn’t I? She hasn’t done anything to harm us.” He looked startled, leaning away from him.

Tommy rubbed a hand along his forehead – something Sam used to do, “Will. She lives by herself beside a massive fucking lake. There’s a village about two days’ travel away, and you mean to tell me that she’d rather live here?”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Many people prefer a solitary life.”

Tommy glowered, anger writhing in the pit of his stomach, “Fucking listen to yourself, Will.” His hands curled into white fists, shaking with the effort of soothing his voice, “You can’t honestly tell me that your trust her, can you?”

Will stepped towards him, a storm brewing behind his eyes, “I am listening to myself. She’s been nothing but kind to us. You’re the one who’s being ungrateful.”

Tommy glowered, “I’m not being ungrateful. You’re blindly trusting some woman in the middle of nowhere for gods know what reason.”

Something was wrong in the way Will stepped towards him, like his face was merely a mask. The expression resting upon it was a twisted sneer that didn’t match his features, as if it was created for an entirely different person. It wasn’t nearly as delicate as any of his previous expressions.

“I suggest,” he hissed, “that you stop talking. You’re sixteen; you don’t know about anything.”

Tommy met his gaze head on in a flash of fury. His heart thudded in his chest and his nail dug painfully into his palms. It was like Will’s hands were pressing against his chest, forbidding him from breathing properly. Finally, it got too much, and Tommy looked away. Shame’s tendrils were quick to embrace his heart.

He slouched over to the bed and threw himself headfirst onto the covers. It was harder than his one at home, but it was still miles better than the bedroll. He could feel Will’s eyes pressed against his spine.

The room was oddly quiet now that the hushed argument had drawn to a close. The whispering noise of Will leaning down to pick up the bedroll brushed lightly against his ears, but, once Will lay upon it, quiet enveloped them once more. It was like time itself had reached its stalemate. He allowed himself to be cradled in the melancholy, the frayed edges of his mind soothed by complete darkness.

Sleep came easily to a weary soul. Tommy gave into the fleeting peace within moments.

***

Tommy wasn’t quite sure what drew him from his slumber, but he was awoken at the time the moon rested at its peak. He blinked around in a daze before glancing down at the floor, which lay bare. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the light and, once they did, he scanned the rest of the room.

Will wasn’t anywhere in sight, even through the layers of darkness. Tommy hauled himself from the bed, mind too foggy to be wary, and heaved the door open into an equally empty dining room.

Concern began brooding in his chest.

“Will?” he called, “Will? Are you there?”

No answer met him. instead, mere silence reverberated around the blank walls. He took a few steps over to the window and strained his eyes to look out at the lake. Yet more void lay behind the glass, now frosted over.

He did his best to exhale any trepidation in his lungs. The front door was slightly ajar as he reached it, welcoming the freezing air to slip into the house. He pushed it fully open, rubbing his arms from the cold. He stood in the doorway, watching his breath climb up to the heavens before him.

That was when the lake caught his eye. Plants on the lake’s bed glowed softly, a ghostly green pattern dotted out in the water, like stars hanging in the night sky. Warped plants and fungus alike glowed with a gentle, pulsing light. The rocks and moss encircling it were cast with the same green glow, shadows almost resembling faces. Yet still, the water refused to reflect the moon’s silver gleam.

Then, a quiet laugh disturbed the serenity, like bells ringing. Tommy knew that laugh.

“Thank you for showing me this,” Will murmured, “it’s beautiful.”

“It is, isn’t it.” Sally replied, “no matter how many times I see it, it never grows any less extraordinary. I can’t leave it.”

“Why not?”

Tommy could just make them out in the glow. Their silhouettes were just visible in the shadow as if they were statues resting on the bank of the lake.

Then, her head turned towards him from the lake. Slowly, robotically. Her eyes reflected the green of the lake – almost as if they were glowing a matching shade. Then, Tommy noticed a stirring beneath her limbs, like a parasite was pushing at her skin, trying to push its way out of her flesh.

Terror seized his muscles, rooting him to the spot.

Will seemed to notice too, as he stumbled back slightly from where he sat, “Sally? What’s going on-”

A shriek ripped the air, casting shards of broken noise around the area. Sally’s body twisted and contorted into a writhing mass of green, her skin ripped from her limbs. Her eyes still glowed, illuminating the image with tainted horror. Then, her limbs started to restitch themselves together, clumping into a singular mass until they formed a recognisable shape.

A ghostly horse reared its front legs before Will.

Though it looked to be made from the same light as the weeds in the lake, the kick it shot at Will’s head seemed as tangible as any punch.

A thud echoed through the air and Will spiralled to the ground. He dropped like a stone into the lake, though he didn’t make any noise as he landed. Instead, the water seemed to rise up like a hand to greet him and drag him down.

“No,” Tommy screeched, hurling himself at the edge of the lake, not caring about the horse ready to attack.

It took only a second for him to realise his mistake. On the bank of the lake, staring at where the fae landed, he stood before the kelpie.

***

Techno stood in the empty clearing, staring down the crow resting in the branches of a tree.

It was approaching midnight, and Phil had been away all-day doing gods know what. Techno raised an eyebrow at him,

“Nice of you to show up.”

The crow somehow rolled its eyes but hopped down from the branch. As soon as it hit the ground, its entire body seemed to unfold like origami until a man with blonde hair and green robes stood before him. Wings sprouted from his back, seemingly made of an abyssal smoke.

The Angel of Death smiled at him, “How’s your day been?”

“Not really day anymore,” Techno grunted at him, heaving his axe over his shoulder. He never really liked being in the fae forest, but Phil had assured him that he’d be safe enough. Techno trusted Phil not only with his life, but with his soul.

“Yeah, I noticed. I always preferred the night anyway.” Phil grinned at him. That grin was always enough to melt away some of icy mask that resided on Techno’s face, “You good, mate? You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

Techno shrugged, “I’ll survive. I don’t really want to spend any more time resting in the faewild than I have to.”

Phil’s smile creased into concern, “If you’re sure.” Techno pretended he didn’t hear the doubt in his friend’s voice.

Techno had been travelling for so long. Since the war, he had bound himself to movement, like a ship lost in the middle of the ocean with no way out. No matter how long he stayed in once place, wanderlust quickly struck him anew and he left in sight of a new journey. He knew that, if he didn’t, he’d get restless and nothing good ever came of his restlessness.

Phil was often there to keep him company, though. Death’s Angel was bound to no worldly places, so, no matter how far Techno travelled, he and Phil always found their way back to each other. They were two magnets; perpetually sticking together, no matter how far they were pulled from one another.

“Nyx Lake is over there,” Phil pointed over his shoulder – East, Techno guessed. Beside the mountain range, “some travellers arrived there a while ago. Will and Tommy – a fae and a human.”

“Are they the two you’ve been stalking?”

“I wouldn’t quite say stalking-”

“Watching, then. It’s all semantics.”

Phil made a disgruntled noise but conceded, “Yeah, they are. They’re on their way to the capital, but they don’t know that a kelpie’s there.”

“A kelpie?” Techno frowned.

“Yeah, a water horse that disguises itself as human to drown people-”

“I know what a kelpie is, Phil. I’d just assumed that none would inhabit Nyx Lake.”

Phil shrugged, “She’s a hardy one, I’m telling you.”

“Evidently,” Techno muttered, latching his axe back onto his belt, “I suppose this is you begging me to save their asses, then?”

“Maybe,” Phil said, his expression pleading.

Techno sighed, “Alright then. It’s not like I have anything better to do. But after that, I’m not going anywhere near the lake again. I don’t deal well with many souls in one place.”

Phil flinched at the reminder. Nyx Lake was, in his eyes, his biggest shortcoming. After the Regional War a few centuries ago, so many people had died in battle that Phil couldn’t guide them all to the underworld – not when he was such a new angel. He did what he could, but he could deal with thousands of souls at once, so many remained in the lake itself, growing stagnant in the water. It was the only time he was forced to reveal himself to hundreds of people at once. The amount of anger and misery that resided there was too much even for Techno to bare.

“Come on then,” Techno snapped at him, already striding across the clearing. Looking at the moon, he guessed it was around 11pm.

“I’m not joining you at the Lake.” Phil said, voice painted with remorse, “I don’t think I can stand going back there. I’ll accompany you on the journey, though.”

Techno nodded, pain for his friend lacerating his chest. “Fair enough.”

“I mean,” Phil said as they walked back into the curtain of trees, “I suppose you could always stay with the travellers if you don’t have anything else to do.”

Techno sighed, “Phil, what have I said about you asking me things?”

Phil’s wings sagged, “Sorry. I just don’t want to make it seem like I’m forcing you to do anything.”

Techno jerked to a halt, “Phil,” he turned to the Angel, “we’ve had this discussion before. I’d do anything for you. You can ask me to go to the end of the Earth and I’d do it without hesitation.”

“I know,” Phil said bitterly, “but that makes it worse. If I tell you to do something, you’ll do it without arguing. I don’t want to manipulate you into anything.”

Techno rubbed the pads of his fingers across the bridge of his nose, “It’s okay Phil, genuinely. You’re my best friend. If you want me to do something for you, just ask. I don’t mind. You’re not manipulating me into anything, I promise.”

Phil’s eyes lingered on the floor, “Can you just protect them, please? I think they’ll need it.”

Techno didn’t hesitate before dropping to one knee before the Angel – his best friend. He bowed his head and waited for Phil to rest his blade against his shoulder. Sure enough, the cutting ice of the steel burned his skin, even through his robe.

“You once again have my blessing,” Phil murmured, almost regretfully.

Techno rested there for a few more moments before picking himself up. A new strength rippled his muscles; the strength of Death Herself. He was nothing if not a warrior. His hand enclosed on his axe, the familiar leather slipping into his grip like it was always there. Even when Phil was away, his axe was his constant companion, hanging perpetually by his side. It was the last semblance of permanence in his shattered Earth.

“I should go,” Phil muttered, “I don’t want to be this close to it.”

“Hold up,” Techno blurted, “why do you care so much about these travellers?”

Phil stopped in his tracks. He seemed to roll his options over in his brain for a moment. Sometimes, Techno was struck by just how human Phil seemed – far more so than himself.

“It’s the first time that fae and humans have worked together in a long time. I want to ensure their success.” His face was slightly overcast. Techno didn’t push him to say more despite the nagging in his brain.

“Alright. I’ll see you around, then.”

“You will.” Phil held his arms open, wings equally spread.

Techno didn’t like hugs much, but he fell into Phil’s without a second thought, finding solace in the feathers curling around him. Phil’s body was near freezing, but Techno didn’t care about that when his friend was so close.

“Good luck,” Phil said once Techno pulled away, brushing down his robes.

Techno nodded solemnly and watched as Phil melted back into a crow, taking flight back into the trees – near invisible in the night.  

The moon was his only guide to the lake, but he stayed on the path Phil had shown him. He didn’t exactly feel dread, but wariness was creeping in the hollow of his chest. He’d had a run in with a ghost before a few years ago and they hadn’t exactly liked him. He trudged onwards for almost an hour, watching the moon canter across the sky through the canopy of trees.

Eventually, mountains towered above him, dissipating into the night’s clouds. Just before he reached the edge of the forest, a shriek pierced his ears, stabbing his brain. He hissed in surprise and picked up to a run, shoving his way through the branches on instinct.

He got to the lake just in time to see a body hurtle through the air and be pulled into the lake. Hands grew from the water, hauling him into its depths, dragging him down. A ghostly horse stood on its hind legs on the edge of the lake beside a young boy.

Techno didn’t hesitate to toss his axe to the side and dive into the murky waters. The water was far thicker than any other he’d swam in before, like hands and bodies dragged him back, but he didn’t have time to stop. He pushed onwards. His lungs and muscles screamed out for oxygen, but he kept his eyes pulled open. Only darkness swam before him, corroding his vision into nothingness.

Finally, his hand curled around a wrist, and he broke the surface of the lake, hauling the body over his shoulder. Already, he felt as if the water was turning his muscles to ash. It was acrid in the way his skin burned from being in the lake for just a few minutes. Hands and faces seemed to make up the water now, in a swirling mass of howling people, all reaching out to grab him. The lake he pushed through no longer resembled water – rather, a mass grave.

Struggling to breathe, he kicked away a head and yanked his wrist from a blackened hand. What felt like nails raked along his skin as he waded onwards fuelled by nothing but refusal to give up. His skin blistered in the water.

Finally, he dragged the man to the shore, yanking him out of the water’s deathly grip.

He looked over his shoulder. Despite his protesting limbs, he pushed himself onto his feet and wildly looked around to the boy beside the kelpie. The boy stumbled backwards, at least on his feet now, to avoid the horse before him. His hands were wrapped clumsily around a sword. There was no way Techno could reach him in time – especially not when his axe lay abandoned on the other side of the lake.

The boy backed up until his feet caught on a rock, sending him tripping backwards. In one last attempt, he threw the sword upwards, a bloodcurdling scream ripped from his throat before he hit the ground.

Chapter Text

At his core, Technoblade will always be a warrior.

Rooted in his heart has always been that itch. The itch to move, to protect, to love so fiercely that his very soul burned. When pain crept up behind him, raking its steel nails up his back, he fought through it. When the memories got too much, he continued to fight. Because it was the only way he knew how to make it through.

His first memory was that of his father. He didn’t remember exactly what the man looked like, but he remembered his eyes. Eyes the cloudy black of an eclipse. The promise of love perpetually smeared by remorse.

Even from a young age, Techno battled for his father’s love. To receive even a scrap of his hard-earned attention. It was never enough. His father spent his time locked in his office or in a meeting room. Some days, Techno crept up to the door and pressed his ear to it, hoping that he could hear what was happening.

It’s okay, he told himself, he’s just busy.

That didn’t explain why the Earl of Pogtopia took the time to lay out scrolls and maps to his sister yet did not even glance at him. So, Techno stayed watching like he was looking through a one-way mirror. Niki always showed him what their father had taught her, but sometimes that hurt so much that he shouted at her until she scrambled from the room. He always apologised when the guilt boiled too high, but no amount of remorse can put a human back together.

From the age of seven, the library became his only sanctuary. The servants in the manor stopped even nodding to him when they wandered by during the early hours of the morning. He quickly became just another decoration.

After all, a refuge is just a kinder prison.

Just after his tenth birthday, he saw her for the first time. She was dressed in a long red coat and her hair was wild and frizzy – one half white and the other brown. A sword hung at her side. Runes and sigils Techno only half recognised were engraved into the metal. The reflection of candlelight danced across her iron chest plate. A long scar carved down her face and neck, her cheek welded together with paper thin white lines.

She knelt before his father in the official dining room. Techno sat in his usual place beside his sister, who watched the woman with intent expression.

“Thank you for your service,” his father said, though no warmth emanated from his voice.

“You are very welcome,” her tone was surprisingly soft through the gruffness, akin to the feeling of sitting inside while a storm unleashed its wrath mere feet away. Techno could’ve sworn that she spared him a passing glance.

She rose from her knees like a flower blooming.

“Would you like to stay with us to eat?” Techno’s father sounded respectful but inauthentic.

She went to shake her head but started slightly when her eyes flicked back to the children at the table, “Yes, please. I’d like to meet the family I’ll be protecting.”

“Alright,” the man’s shoulders were oddly tense, “take a seat.”

“Of course,” an acrid edge tainted her smile. She made a beeline to the seat opposite Techno despite his father’s disapproving frown.

Techno couldn’t help but stare at her. She paid no heed to him when she started eating.

The moon was already rising outside. Techno never liked eating this late, but apparently it was customary for the rich to eat later in order to show off that they had their own light to cook by.

The food tasted like dust in his mouth. No amount of water could make it easier to swallow. He ended up shoving it dully around his plate.

His sister nudged him gently, “Are you okay?” she whispered.

“Niki,” his father chided, “don’t speak when you’re eating.”

She curled in on herself slightly, “Sorry.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, his eyes scratched against Techno, who refused to back down. Techno had always hated his eyes. Sometimes, when he looked in the mirror, he held a candle up to his face and tried to trick himself into believing that they were warmer, softer. But, as soon as he withdrew the flame, they reverted to the same empty blackness as his father’s. He had a feeling that his father disliked his eyes, too.

The woman watched the interaction silently with her fork half raised to her mouth. Curiosity flickered in her steel grey eyes.

The dinner passed silently from then. Niki kept looking at Techno. She didn’t have his eyes. Her’s were the same sky blue as their late mother’s. The two bore no resemblance to one another – as if they were from completely separate universes, let alone families. She was slight and wispy, almost like a fae, with light pink hair and soft skin. Nothing like Techno’s bold features, dark hair and skin almost completely white from so long cooped up in the library. While he was burdened by the features of their father, she was woven purely from their mother.

She trailed along behind him to his room after dinner. The woman watched them flee their father, one hand gradually drifting towards her sword.

“Who do you think the woman is?” Techno demanded as soon as his bedroom door swung shut. Niki was always the one who knew things like that; always the one who understood the world better no matter how much Techno studied. He supposed it was only fair. She’d had three years longer to study.

“Father didn’t tell you about her?” Niki phrased it like a question, but she didn’t sound surprised. Techno shook his head and ignored the dull throb in his chest. It barely even hurt anymore, “She’s Captain Puffy. Our head guard.”

“Why is she here?”

“I’m not sure. I heard something about someone attacking the manor from the cooks. She was probably the one to defend us.”

“Why would someone take interesting in attacking the manor?” The idea didn’t scare him. Rather, the idea of a break in this routine flourished and died within seconds. There was little room to care about the prospect of death in a heart so burdened. Niki simply shrugged, though her arms curled around her torso.

Techno leaned against his shelves. They covered most walls were crammed with books and, even then, stacks of books which didn’t fit lay scattered over the floor.

Niki, too, seemed to notice the mess, “You really need to sort this out.”

“It’s organised.”

“No, it’s not.”

He shrugged, “I know where everything is.”

“Fine,” she sighed.

“Why do you speak to the cooks so much?” he asked.

She paused. Her eyes settled on a stack of books in the corner. “I like them. They’re nice. Nicer than most nobles.”

That was probably true. Most nobles and earls visiting barely paid any attention to either of them. Even then, it was all directed at Niki – the gleaming Heir of Pogtopia. Techno simply nodded.

Techno wandered over to his bed and flopped onto it. Sometimes, he wondered what it would be like to continue that fall forever. To drop endlessly down until time itself was rendered insignificant. Until darkness consumed all the pettiness of the mortal plane.

“What are you gonna do when you’re made Earl?” he eyed her. They normally strayed as far from the topic as possible, but the question tugged at his lips, begging to be asked.

She joined him in collapsing onto the bed beside him. “I don’t know. I want to make Pogtopia better, though. Father hasn’t done much good.” Techno silently agreed. He knew well enough to keep his lips sealed, “What about you? What do you want to do when you’re older?”

Techno paused. He hadn’t thought of that before. His entire life revolved around what would happen when his sister was made Earl. No thought was ever given to what he’d do when she was fully grown.

“I don’t know. I’d maybe an author or a historian or something.”

She looked at him from the corner of her eye, “Would that make you happy?” Grief ravaged her voice.

“I… don’t know.” He muttered. “I think so.” In all honesty, he couldn’t really remember what true happiness was. The blunt hollowness in his chest had become comforting over time.

No words passed between them as they silently mourned the childhood they never had. Together, they rested in mellow despair.

“She really did love you, you know.” Niki murmured, “She loved both of us.”

Techno slowly, like it would pave his path away from her, inched his hand towards hers and curled his calloused fingers into her own. Their hands had been moulded to collapse into each other. They had grown to balance each other perfectly.

“What was she like?” Techno had never known his mother beyond the grief-stricken strokes of paint that made up her portrait. Clara, the wife of the Earl of Pogtopia, was a beloved figure, even beyond the earldom’s territory. News of her death grew across the kingdom like rotting branches – like fungi spreading across a dead tree.

Niki paused. She squeezed his hand slightly tighter, “She was sweet and gentle, but strong. She was loving and brave and kind. She always fought to protect me when Father was upset,” he could hear the tears thickening her voice, “She smiled when you were born, you know. She knew she couldn’t make it out alive, but she was still thankful that you were here. I don’t think she liked Father much, but she adored us more than anything.”

“I wish I could meet her,” Techno murmured. Such woeful honesty never settled well with him, but Niki was a person he could trust with all his heart.

“I wish you could have too. I wish I could’ve known her for longer.”

Neither of them moved that night. Techno never fell asleep but just lying beside his sister was a softer blessing than any dream.

***

The days continued to pass in a blur and, with every time the sun arose from its slumber, his father’s eyes grew harsher. Techno knew he was unwanted, but his father’s disdain still stung on occasion.

He started to see Puffy more and more, though. She waved at him every time he passed her in a corridor, or when she entered the library to return a book. Niki said she didn’t trust Puffy much. Techno didn’t know what to think.

It was the evening, and Techno jogged down to the grounds. The Earl owned most of the forest North of Pogtopia, so he was perfectly entitled to head into the midst of the trees. He moved silently over the grass to the gate – a skill he learned years ago to creep past his father’s study without disturbing him.

But, at the edge of the forest, stood Captain Puffy. She stood before the mass of trees, her eyes tracing every step Techno took.

“Hello,” she called to him as he approached. Uncertainty held his legs back slightly, but he forced himself to approach the guard.

“Hi,” he mumbled. He wasn’t sure if she heard him, but she smiled regardless.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here.” Something in the delicate curve of her smile said otherwise, “I often go into the forest to think or train. It helps clear the mind, if you get me?”

He nodded. His eyes drifted to the sword in her hands. The ruby set in the hilt glinted as if it noticed him. She noticed his staring, “You like my sword? It was an award for being captain before I came here.

“What’s it like,” Techno blurted out, “in the army?”

Her eyes searched his face, likely finding the embarrassment lying there. “I don’t know how to explain it, really. I grew up there so it’s just normal for me. It’s my home.”

Home.

There were countless times Techno had curled up in his room with his head pressed against his knees as he longed to return to his home while simultaneously not knowing where that was. All he knew was that he wanted to finally be safe.

“Show me how to fight.” He demanded before the thought fully sprouted, not leaving himself enough time for doubt.

Puffy tipped her head to one side. She seemed to comb through his soul as she examined him – the scrawny, pale disgrace of a son. The left side of her lips quirked upwards slightly. “Alright.”

Techno blinked, stunned. He quickly smothered the surprise with set determination. He had always been one for learning new things on a whim and, deep down, fighting was something he’d longed to do for years. He often played images of him fighting with the grace of a dancer to lull himself to sleep. His father frequented his dreams on those nights, admiration evident on his face.

Puffy beckoned him to follow and it was only then that the realisation of what he’d done dawned on him. Still, when she looked back to see he was frozen in place, he willed his legs to carry him after her.

He thought he knew the forest, but Puffy was quick to prove him wrong. They followed a trailing path down to an area he had never been before which quickly opened up into a clearing. Trees twisted together into a gnarled cage around the pair, leaves stretching out into a flimsy roof.

“Here,” Puffy tossed him a stick that lay on the floor. He scrambled to catch it. She brushed down her coat, “Let’s start with the footwork. Place your feet like this.” She stepped back so her feet were in a L-shape, knees bent.

Techno immediately fell back into the same position. She stared at him; eyes drawn wide.

“What?” he asked.

She shook her head as if trying to clear it, “Doesn’t matter. Hold your weapon like this.”

He copied her. Her shock seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a smile. She didn’t bother talking as she showed him how to move, staying light on her feet but keeping them firmly planted on the ground to remain stable. Techno repeated her movements, making sure to closely examine the intricacies of her movements. After a few minutes, he could stop focusing on her and simply allow himself to move with the movements. Despite how alien the stance was, he settled into it easier than walking.

When she finally pulled to a stop, she resumed her staring.

“What?” he asked again, annoyance beginning to spike his chest.

She took a moment to respond.

Then, she grinned, “You’re extraordinary.”

***

As the months went by, Techno found himself spending more and more time with Puffy in the clearing. He found himself improving with every lunge she flicked at him and every correction on his footwork she made. When once the library was his sanctuary, now it was Puffy who offered him solace. 

His father hadn’t noticed his disappearances but, on the evening of his twelfth birthday, Niki burst into his room. He had spent the afternoon with Puffy in the forest working with a sabre for the first time. He stood in the corner of the room, still sweaty, placing his training sword back on the wall. Puffy had told him that, if he kept working hard, she would give him a real sword.

“Where have you been?” She snapped.

“Training,” he grunted.

She frowned, “Training for what?” She stormed towards him, stopping right before his face, “You’ve been out so much lately, and you refuse to tell my why.” Her fury gradually melted down into bleak despair. She stood in his shadow before him. He hadn’t realised he had grown taller than her.

“I’m sorry.” He said, unsure of how to react. He hadn’t thought she’d care. They rarely spent much time with each other anymore.

She averted her eyes, blush climbing her cheeks. She rubbed a hand over her face, “I’m not upset, ok? I’m fine. I’m just worried about you. You’ve always spent so much time alone and it’s not good for you.” 

Techno watched her silently for a moment, unsure of how to react. She was older than him. She was supposed to protect him from those feelings, not desperately try to hide her own. Finally, the silence grew too much, and he opened his mouth, “If it’s makes you feel any better, I’m not by myself.”

Her eyes flared wide in alarm, “Then who-”

“Puffy. I’m training with Puffy. She’s been teaching me how to fight.”

“What.” It didn’t sound like a question.

He shrugged, “Better than staying in the library all the time. Plus, she offered to give me lessons.” 

“Why would she do that?”

“No idea. But I like it. It’s something I’m finally good at.” 

She frowned, “You’re good at everything.”

Techno didn’t dignify that with a response. It was a barren lie; one he wouldn’t even consider entertaining. His father had made it clear enough with his sneering comments and snide looks that everything Techno did was inadequate. Silence settled like snow across them, drifting down into a smothering blanket. 

Tartness tainted Niki’s eyes as she examined him. Finally, her face crumpled, “You’re not going to leave me, are you? You’re all I have left, Tech.”

Techno almost jumped back in shock, “Of course not! Why would I want to do that?”

Niki’s eyes glistened slightly, but she scrubbed at them until they were laced with red. She lurched forwards and grabbed onto Techno’s arm, her fingers like webs glued to his skin, “Promise me, Techno. Promise you won’t leave me here alone.” Desperation carved its fatal passage through her voice. 

Techno tipped his head to look at her arm, unable to hold her broken gaze any longer. “I won’t,” he muttered, if only to comfort her. It wasn’t a lie, but he couldn’t quite trick himself into believing it to be true, either. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

She flung herself at him, nose pressed into his shoulder. He didn’t have time to be tentative, curling his own arms around her shoulders. He’d never been one for physical touch. He often flinched away from any affection like a plant shrivelling away from shadows. But, if only for his sister’s sake, he held her. Something deep within his chest shot up in flames. Whether it was a fire of love or grief, he didn’t know. The feelings were painfully similar. 

Fate wasted little time in its mockery. 

Only a week later, Puffy flung his bedroom door open with a mighty crash. Her eyes were wild and her hair even more frazzled than usual. 

“Techno,” she gasped, as if she’d run across the grounds at record speed, “I’ve got it!”

Techno, who lay sprawled across his bed to wallow in his misery, bolted upright. “What?”

“I’ve got it,” she repeated. “We can leave, Techno.”

Techno forced himself to stand, “What do you mean?” His spoke slower than he anticipated. He never was the sort who jumped to conclusions.

“I’ve been allowed to return to me training program. It’s to teach potential soldiers. You can join now!” Her eyes were almost insane with passion, a forest consumed by fire. 

“You mean-”

“We can escape, Techno. You don’t have to be stuck here anymore.”

Techno straightening himself up, trying to quell her fire spreading to his own soul, “I’m not stuck.”

“I’ve seen the way that man treats you. You don’t want to have to stay here for your entire life, do you?” She seemed far too eager to burst out with the statement. 

And, as much as he hated her for it, she wasn’t wrong. He just despised how she noticed his pain. Guilt rooted itself in his decaying heart, spreading its tendrils throughout his body. He didn’t deserve her notice. He was burdening her merely by being in her presence. He swallowed back his loathing. 

“I’ve asked the Earl about enlisting you, and he agreed. We leave at dawn.” And then she turned her back on him, leaving only a scar in her place. 

A thousand complaints left unsaid bubbled and writhed in his stomach. He hadn't agreed to that. She hadn’t cared enough to ask. Yet he knew, deep in the pit of his soul, that he would have agreed to her proposition. Because he was selfish. Because he was cruel.

Because he couldn’t bring himself to seriously regard the lingering echoes of his sister’s begging. She would move on quickly enough - everyone would. It was near impossible to mourn a shadow. 

And, after all this time, just one work rang over the dissonant jumble of thoughts. Puffy’s voice, above the ruckus, uttered one word.

Home. 

***

Techno’s father did not wave him off upon his departure. Rather, he caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes glinting in his office – a vague shadow drawn against the glass. Techno didn’t care all too much - it was only what he’d expected of the man. Niki, however, was completely different.

Techno trudged to the carriage as slowly as he could without alerting Puffy. Internally, he prayed to whatever god would listen that his sister would sprint out of the castle and throw her arms around him. He longed for her to bid him a tearful farewell.

Don’t leave me, she had begged. Yet she would not grieve him – no more than his father would. So, he clambered into the carriage where Puffy awaited him and settled himself in a plush seat. His eyes trailed along the wrought iron gates enclosing the Manor, which stood so black they seemed almost scorched.

Guilt was a familiar feeling, yet no remorse joined it in its waltz. He couldn’t mourn such a damned place.

“Where are the grounds?” He asked Puffy. He had inspected many maps of the country before, and knew Pogtopia like the Manor itself, yet there were many training camps scattered across the earldom.

“Just south of the city, beside the marsh. It’ll be good to teach you to fight in difficult terrain.”

With that, the carriage took off, swaying at a gentle pace. Techno looked at the Manor for only a few moments more before it faded out of sight, and he set his vision forward. 

Traveling was a boring yet intriguing affair. Techno watched the city flick by him, wooden buildings merging into one jumbled mess. He watched intently all the way. No matter how many maps he had studied and books he perused, nothing could compare to the real city before him. He had only been there a few times - usually only to make a brief appearance at the Winter Solstice festival – so the land still seemed like a mystery. Every building housed a story he longed to immerse himself in. 

They travelled in near silence for the entire day. Techno leaned his head against the glass until the swaying gently pulled him into sleep’s orbit. There was something to calming in the liminal feeling of just travelling. The world, even at its stillest, had never been quite so tranquil before.

He awoke to Puffy nudging his shoulder, “Techno,” she murmured, “we’re here.”

Techno tipped his head up through bleary eyes. The world around him was bathed in darkness. He grunted at her. Even through the night, he could make out the shadow smudged beneath her eyes, though the grin on her lips was just as bright as ever. She offered a hand out to him. Hardly a glimpse of hesitation passed over his eyes before he grasped it. She pulled him up and tugged him from the carriage.

He tried to clear some of the cotton from his mind to look around. A marsh stretched over the landscape before him, damp and freezing, though oddly welcoming. Fog hung over it in a blanket, drifting around aimlessly like smoke. There was something oddly welcoming about the fog that made Techno long to dive headfirst into it and allow it to wash away all traces of his past. But no amount of water could wash his skin of his father’s eclipsed love or his sister’s final longing words. 

A valley of tents marked their territory in the middle of the camp, marring the otherwise pristine image of wilderness. Shadows were cast upon the fabric by a small fire feasting upon a bed of logs in the centre. 

“Over here,” Puffy said. She led drew him over to the campsite with all the tenderness as if she was guiding him from a funeral. 

He bleakly followed over the marsh. Every step on the sod threatened to throw him into the depths of the field, but her hand always steadied his stumbles. Finally, they stood before a tent which, in the fire’s gloom, seemed to tower over him. Without waiting for permission, he pushed through the door into the room and collapsed on the small bed placed beside the door. 

He didn’t notice the figures shifting in other bunk beds littering the room for the tendrils of exhaustion wrapped around him once more. 

***

The morning settled on the marshlands like a mother tenderly wrapping a cloak around her child’s shoulders.

Techno arose earlier than anyone else in the tent, nestled in the warmth of morning mist and the rising sun. Puffy called something from outside his room. He was caught too deep in a haze to comprehend what she said, but he got up and dressed regardless. It was then that he noticed the occupants of the other beds, none of whom had stirred at Puffy’s call. They were mostly teenagers - the youngest around fifteen. None of them bore the softness of childhood that still traced Techno’s face. 

Puffy sat warning her hands by the fire. She didn’t seem to mind the flames inching ever closer to her cracked palms. She simply tipped her head up to regard him in his bleary state. Judging by the sun, it couldn’t be past five in the morning. 

“Good morning,” Puffy said. He slumped on one of the wooden logs around the fire and grunted a response, “don’t feel like talking? That’s fine.” 

Techno blinked. Usually, when he refused to speak, his father mocked him until he did so. Well, he used to. Eventually, he decided that he didn’t want to hear Techno’s voice after all. 

“I’ll wake the others up in a little while, but I wanted to check in with you first.” No one had ever wanted to spend special time with Techno before, except maybe Niki. Puffy’s face was raw with honesty. “Did you sleep ok?” 

Techno nodded. He started at her hair for a moment - the fuzzy cloud of white and brown. It circled her head like a halo.

“So, I take it you’re settled in ok?” He nodded again. Puffy was so much taller than him. He’d always been scrawny and small from his age; when he was born, the physicians said he likely wouldn’t survive. The tragic comedy of his birth was predicted to claim two lives, rather than just one. “The others you’re sharing the tent with will be training alongside you. I’ve spoken to some of them. They seem nice enough, but if anyone bothers you come straight to me. They’re all much older than you, so I won’t tolerate any bullying.”

Techno couldn’t help but feel indignant at that. He was small, yes, but he wasn’t helpless. He wasn’t a fledgling peeping for his mother. She seemed to notice his lips press together because she grinned, “Don’t worry. We’ll make a warrior of you yet.”

No one had ever called him a warrior before. They always looked at him with pity or disgust for the shunned child. Sometimes both.

He watched the clouds for a while, just waiting. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but he silently let the sky pass over him. 

Then, a crowd of people stumbled from the surrounding tents, yawning and scrubbing their eyes. Techno shrunk in on himself. He was suddenly all too aware of just how many people he would be training with. Around 50 people gathered around the fire, each finding their place on a log. No one paid Techno any mind.

That was until a boy with golden eyes only a few years older than Techno wandered over to his seat. 

“Hey, is anyone sitting there?” He pointed to the seat beside Techno. Techno shook his head, “Thanks.” The boy’s voice was oddly gruff for his age. 

His eyes were oddly familiar. Not in a way that reminded Techno of a time he’d met he boy before, but in a nostalgic way. A glistening that only the purest people extended. It was a look he used to catch the faintest sliver of each time he locked eyes with Niki. 

“I’m Sam,” the boy said, his eyes combing over Techno, “you’re the new kid, right?” Techno nodded. “That’s cool. Puffy must really like you. She doesn’t usually let anyone under thirteen join.” 

“Sam,” Puffy called from across the fire, “can you guide Techno around today, please? I have work to do.” 

Sam’s eyes crinkled upwards, “Of course.”

A dull ball of shame rested in Techno’s throat. Sam wouldn’t be so enthusiastic after spending the whole day with a failure of a boy. But Sam just grinned again at him, “Techno, huh? Cool name.” 

Techno looked up at him from under his brow, “Are you mocking me?” 

Sam flinched as if Techno had slapped him, “Of course not! It’s a cool name!” 

Techno shrivelled up like a leaf wilting in Autumn, “Oh. Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Sam examined him silently for a stretched-out moment.

Techno started to follow Sam around after that. He would hover beside the boy when picking partners for exercises, sit in his shadow at mealtimes, and hover at his side on days off. He was all too aware that he was an annoyance, but Sam never pointed it out. He tolerated Techno’s existence, which was more than he deserved.

At all times, Puffy watched him from afar, pensive to the point of dissociation. Techno would just glance over his shoulder after disarming Sam to see her nodding approvingly, arms folded over her chest. It was always Puffy who moved his arm by half an inch when his guard was wrong. It was Puffy who made sure he always had a place at mealtimes. It was Puffy who sat beside him that night.

That night was the worst of all. The night when murmurs of a death spread like wildfire across the camp. Anxiety picked at Techno’s stomach all day – a feeling of creeping dread raking its nails into his back. Finally, that evening he plucked up the nerve to ask Puffy what happened. The dead look on her face said everything he needed to know, but he clung to the remnants of hope until she said the words.

So, she did.

“The old earl is dead. Henceforth, Pogtopia will be ruled by Niki.”

Niki. Only eighteen with the weight of that role upon her back. He always knew the day would come when she would take over from their father, but that always seemed like a distant event. In his mind, Niki was still the still the fourteen-year-old shielding her ten-year-old brother from a callous world. Not a shining noble standing before her land.

She would deal with their father’s death alone. Not eternally by his side, as he had promised.

And, for the first time since he was a child, Techno cried. He cried for the sister he once had, for the father he never did, for the childhood stolen too soon. He sobbed for hours in Puffy’s arms until his head spun and his breath was choked. She simply sat there until he passed out.

As the years trickled ever onwards into oblivion, she stood as the one permanent fixture in his life. The last feebly burning candle in a fragmented chandelier.

Sam left when he turned eighteen. Techno stood, almost as tall as Sam at the age of fifteen and watched the group of new adults leave. They would join the real army. They’d learn to fight among hoards of whisperers discussing the corrupt king. Techno didn’t have to worry about that now, but it didn’t stop him.

And, as the years marched onwards, so did Techno. He grew taller, stronger, smarter. He grew into the apathetic role he was created to play. He learned to fight through even the sharpest shards of emotion. He learned how to march onwards, no matter how jaded the horizon was.

He was seventeen when the rebellion broke out.

Not even an adult, he slipped out of the camp in the dead of night. He had a feeling, even as he stepped unnoticed onto the back of the carriage burdened by soldiers, that Puffy’s keen eye was yet to leave him.

As the carriage slipped through the shadows, Techno began to resent the woman. She stayed to look after the kids in their tents instead of running after him. No one ever stopped him. Even when he screamed and cried for someone to tell him that he could finally rest, no one did. He was left to stumble along his path alone.

The bitterest smile drew across his face as the camp faded into no more than a memory.