Archive of Our Own

There were at least five hundred people in the room. They all chatted, danced on the quite slippery dance floor, ate, drank, and mingled at an alarming volume. It was a fucking cacophony of noise. The music either pulsed through the floor or was insanely high-pitched. Dresses shimmered and flowed elegantly in the light while bland tuxedos tried to keep their crisp lines.

Flowers and plants decorated all they could, trying to distract the people from the plain white walls and marble floor. The arched glass doors to the balcony were open, letting in a nice breeze.

Some called it paradise. Most honored social event of the year. A ticket to greatness—

“Ezra!”

They took in a sharp breath and looked over at Xisuma. Under the purple-tinted glasses were rather scared eyes of the same shade.

“Yes?” Ezra managed to ask, lightly flapping their cardinal wings once.

Xisuma sighed and smoothed the black tux with no wrinkles, “You were just staring. Everything good?”

“Well, besides being a mutated clone of you, synthetically a hybrid, raised in shitty conditions, and forced to be at this thing every year like none of that happened…yes. It’s quite loud here. If you can see, Evelyn has already fainted.” Ezra pointed over to the small owl-hybrid being carried away by a friend. “What about you?”

“I can’t hear all this…high-pitched stuff so I’m good. But you know that you still do have to go in, right?”

“Yes, yes.” Ezra sighed and straightened up, setting their shoulders back slightly. They adjusted the waist on their flowing red dress so it was aligned properly and tucked in their wings slightly. Making a quick check that no strand of white hair or cardinal feather was out of place in their elaborate hairdo, they put on a wide smile. “Smile and wave, brother!”

Xisuma fixed his yellow bowtie (there hadn’t been any problems with it) and put an identical smile on, “Smile and wave!”

They walked across the hall separating them from the ballroom, entering the fray. Instantly, Ezra’s mask of perfection flickered as the noises got much louder. They pat Xisuma on the shoulder before walking off, making sure to grab a champagne glass on the way. They’d need many more to get through the night.

As they talked with rich folk and supposed investors of Watcher Facility, people would brush back the light curtain of hair Ezra still had down and touch the burnt-in words on their neck. Ezra Void, AMAB, cardinal, #826B. Name, sex, hybrid genes, subject number. Then they’d compliment them or simply run a hand along their wings. Like any reasonable person, they hated it. But rules dictated that they had practically no bodily autonomy that night.

Subjects whispered to each other about who to avoid and what to say to some. Notes would’ve been better but the only thing most knew how to write were their names. Not the letters of them, just what the symbols look like and in what order. Ezra rescued many fellow bird-hybrids from the touches and noise as they did the same.

To mark the halfway point of the night, there was a performance. A different order was chosen each time and this year was order Passeriformes. Ezra and their fellow songbirds stood on a large stage with various wind and string instruments. One of them (Grian Charleston, AMAB, painted bunting, #921) stood in the front with a microphone, to sing a melody. Ezra was happy to be standing off to the side with their ocarina. With a low count from Grian, they started the heavily rehearsed piece. Some sort of love song, so they’re told. It’s five minutes long. The crowd is dead silent the whole time. But when the melody is finished and they all take a bow, they’re louder than ever before. Ezra sees other subjects grab each other’s hands for safety and struggle to keep the perfect smile on. As soon as they were allowed to leave, Ezra walked off the stage and went outside.

Cool spring air, light breeze, rain on the horizon. It was very grounding to be outside. People started to wander outside but unlike in the ballroom, they talked at quieter volumes. That was halfway. What was it now? Four more hours? Dragons, how they wished they were drunk right now. But children of Watcher Facility need four times as much to drink than the average person!

A person who looked maybe a little younger than Ezra walked over and held out a glass, “You look like you need it.”

“Thanks,” they grumbled and took a long sip of the beverage. “Here to gawk?”

“I suppose that could be the right phrase,” something about the formality and wording was off-putting. “I wanted to give you a drink you definitely needed but also to say you’re very stunning. And that I quite liked your ocarina playing. I’m from the Nether and I thought your playing was slightly traditional, mis—”

Ezra tilted his head. Had this small person in a baggy suit and weird hat cut themself off as to question their gender? That was a first. They held out a hand, “Ezra Void, they/them. And…thank you for the compliments.”

“Hels Knight, he/him,” the other smiled and shook Ezra’s hand. “You’re welcome.”

“May I ask, what makes me stunning to you?” They could guess the response but wanted to know for sure.

“Oh! Well, uh,” Hels’ face seemed to redden for some reason. “That dress is rather basic but you somehow manage to make it look…special. And that hair style is, well, a little avant-garde but it suits you. There’s also just you in general. In a non-conventional way you’re pretty or handsome or good-looking or cute. (I don’t know how I’m meant to be referring to you.)” He tapped his fingers on the side of his glasses as he kept glancing away from Ezra. It was quite endearing how he fumbled over his words, possibly intimidated by them.

A genuine smile rose on their lips. They laughed, “Well you have a cute-boy-next-door quality to you. And you’re quite unique. For the six years I’ve been coming here, no one’s been like you.” It actually made them a bit uneasy. Many things in Ezra’s life were tricks, this could be just the same. Someone waiting to just snatch them up when they were of-age. Or to another room of the house in a few minutes.

“Really?” Hels gasped. “Wait wait. Six years? AND people weren’t nice? Why? I’m so confused.”

“You know where you are, right?”

“Yeah, doi. The Fletcher’s Annual Gala, best of the best get invited. What do you mean? Actually,” he looked around, “there are a lot more hybrids here than I thought there would be. You know, with all the job and social inequalities.”

“Oh you poor, innocent boy…Hels, hybrids aren’t really invited. The Fletchers fund Watcher Facilities in exchange for their subjects to be shown off at this gala. And once it has been eighteen years after our birth year, we could be ‘sold off’ in their annual summer auction.”

“‘We’?”

“We.”

“Oh my,” Hels looked out to the city. “Oh my, oh my. How—how old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“So you’ll be at the auction in two years? And we’re ten the first time you came here?”

“Yes to both.”

Hels continued to mutter ‘oh my’ as he put his drink on a nearby table and rested his head in his hands. Ezra swallowed their drink in one go and also looked at the bright city. It was so much different than the sterile facility or nothingness of the Void.

“How did you not know any of this, Hels?”

“Because I wasn’t invited. Neither me nor my brother.” He took his head out of his hands. “We were drawn in by the tales of greatness. They conceal this hybrid-selling stuff really well. Ghasts alive, I feel sick.”

“Bad food?”

“No.” Hels held out a finger and produced a small flame atop it. “Blazeborn.” He extinguished the flame.

“Oh.” Ezra’s wings fluttered. “Well. You have two options to help. Treat us like normal people so we have some bliss in our lives or find a way to get us the hell out.”

“Deal. I, uh, need to go find my brother. To tell him all this.” Hels took his and Ezra’s glass before pausing. Like he wanted to say something. “Two more years here, right?”

“That’s correct.” They gave a sheepish smile and took Hels’ empty hand. They planted a kiss on the back of it, “Stay alive.”

Hels gave a quick nod and tried to hide how his face was turning red before scurrying off. Lost in the masses immediately. A certain ‘pop’ and stumble alerted Ezra of Xisuma teleporting in.

“Were you hiding on the roof again?” Ezra didn’t look over. 

“Yeah. I think that kid’s fallen for you. And,” Xisuma added as Ezra opened their mouth to respond, “I think you’ve done the same.”

Ezra looked over at their brother, “Can you blame me? He’s nice and quite cute.”

“He made you smile,” Xisuma offered, giving a small grin. He gave Ezra a light shoulder squeeze before going back into the ballroom.

This year’s dress wasn’t too bad. Square neck with straps and a long skirt. The main dress was a very light blue but there was some sort of semi-translucent mesh that was snatched at the waist with snowflakes embroidered in. They had to fight (literally) to wear penny loafers and not heels with the dress. At least their hair wasn’t up.

Choruses of ‘smile and wave!’ echoed through the hybrid group as they entered through the doorway to the ballroom. It looked the same as last year. It always did. Two waiters held platters of drinks which everyone took before they split off. Conversation went how it always did. Nothing ever changed.

“Another stunning dress for Mx. Void.” Something changed.

Ezra turned to see…”Hels?” He was wearing a proper tuxedo that fit this time. Basic black but with a stunning red bowtie. An orange tail with fluff at the end flicked around. He also had two little horns that curved backwards.

Hels smiled. It was the only boy-ish thing about him at that moment. “Ezra.”

“You’re bold for showing off that you’re a hybrid. And you look…healthier than before.”

“I made sure to cut my hair so people could easily see my neck, no burns there! And Wels and I finally have some proper income! He works for the Fletchers, that’s how I got my invite.”

“Wels is your brother I assume. And he decided to work for them?” Oh this was confusing.

“Yeah, I told him about our talk last year. Really took it to heart. I would’ve joined the company too, but I got rejected.” Hels shrugged.

Ezra gave themself a minute to understand what was said. They asked for Hels and his brother to help. Was joining the company helping? They asked a vague question, sensing that was the right route, “Is Wels…learning a lot?”

“Oh, yes!” Hels smiled. “About many things. Anyway, since I’ve already got you in my sights, care for a dance? I’m not very good but…” He held a hand out. And for how confident he looked, Ezra could tell he was a little scared.

They finished their drink and set it down on a table with a wide smile, “Of course. Just know that I’m actually a great dancer.” They took Hels’ hand gently as he led them to the crowded dance floor.

“Really? I don’t take tall people to be so elegant.”

“I defy the statistics,” Ezra laughed. They were recreating the slow dance quite well while Hels struggled very comically.

It was a little less awkward than Ezra thought it would be. Yes, the dance had them hold hands and have Hels keep a hand at their waist but…he was actually a rather fast learner. For the first few minutes, he mimicked the other dancers well enough but kept stepping on Ezra’s  feet or stumbling around. While others were silent or very quietly chatted, the two of them chuckled and giggled. Soon enough, Hels figured out what he was doing and they fluidly danced together. All other dancers seemed pleased by this, rid of all the iggling.

Ezra usually hated it when people, especially humans, touched them or even stood very close. But they never protested the hand at their bare back or the one interlocked with their own. When was the last time Ezra had felt…safe? They’d gotten close with Xisuma but they never managed to forget how both were in the facility or being shown off for them. They considered safety as forgetting everything but what made you safe. And Ezra forgot, albeit for a very short time, everything but the feeling of slow dancing with Hels.

When the music suddenly changed to a loud mixture of percussion, they visibly flinched and their wings did a quick flap. The slow dancing quickly turned to erratic movements as people rushed around them. The two of them exclaimed something neither could hear before Hels gently grabbed their wrist and led them through the crowd. Through increasingly empty halls. Through places they definitely weren’t meant to be. Sounds from the gala started to quiet.

On some third floor balcony, they stopped. They were facing the front of the house where few people were. Music blasted through open doors but it was the most subdued Ezra had ever felt it.

They laughed and ran a hand through their hair, “That was a switch! Dragons, whoo.”

“I take it you don’t like loud things?” Hels laughed along.

“My ears are more bird-like than you’d expect.”

Hels shrugged. “Is it hard to sleep with those wings? They seem too big.”

“They’re not always like this,” Ezra gave them a light flap. “Watcher Facility has recreated wing-manipulation, but I keep them like this because it’s ‘flashy’ and ‘preferable’, ugh. I prefer them like this.” They decreased their mass or they were the smallest they could be. The ‘unsummoned’ feathers recreated themselves as barely visible bubbles under their skin.

“Why? Do you hate your wings?”

“They often feel alien,” they admitted. “I’ve had the cardinal genes in me ever since I was a little egg in a test tube but it doesn’t feel right sometimes. I can act like they don’t exist like this. Helpful when you keep getting shoved into things…” Ezra gripped their arms. Shoved into a chair so something could be injected, shoved onto a wall because they said something ‘bad’, shoved onto a wall so someone could…It was never good.

“There goes that.” Hels gasped and slapped a hand over his mouth when he said it. He backed away slightly and got very red, “That slipped out, I am so sorry. I had absolutely no context for that, oh no.”

“And context would make it better?” They were more curious than offended but the anger slipped into their voice anyway.

“Well, eh, uh,” he started to fidget with his hands. Still very red, he looked at a spot just past Ezra’s ear. “I was kinda planning to…my past…” Hels took a deep breath and tried to steady himself, “I brought you up here because it’s a fairly private area and I was planning on kissing you. A-and my old partner said I could get…excited and that would often lead to her getting pushed into a wall or other things. So, ah, that's out the window. Or off the balcony…”

Loads of information flooded into Ezra’s brain. Hels was only a few inches shorter than them. Both would barely have to move their heads to make an easy kiss. Hels had made it clear that he found them quite attractive (even if they couldn’t place why anyone would) and Ezra found themself looking at the nervous blazeborn with…longing? (His hair looked like it would be quite soft and so did…most of him. Ezra knew from their dance that his hands were quite calloused actually, but their body was littered with scars that he didn’t seem to mind. His lips actually looked quite chapped but theirs were similar. Oh Dragons, how cute and handsome he looked.) They became aware of their beating heart and twisting stomach. But not in the oh-no-what-does-the-scientist-have-in-store kind of way but in a twisty way that screamed KISS THE BOY!

Ezra took a careful step towards Hels. He froze up and looked them dead in the eyes with confusion all over his face. Carefully, Ezra brushed back a strand of Hels’ hair before laughing. They rested the hand on the other’s shoulder and leaned their head forward, accidentally knocking into Hels. “Sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing,” they laughed and peeked open their eyes slightly.

Hels also let out a small laugh, confusion fading away. He braced an arm on the railing and set the other hand cupping Ezra’s cheek, “Don’t worry. You’re doing great.” He laughed once more and just slightly tilted his head, gently kissing them.

And it took them a second to process this. They knew the feeling of lips on their own but not in a gentle way. Not by someone they wanted to kiss them. Ezra cautiously put an arm around Hels’ back but kept the other were it was as they themself leaned in and kissed back. It was a brief moment of bliss before Hels pulled back. Bird brain took over and Ezra let out a little chirp of joy. For how embarrassing that was, Hels didn’t seem to mind and leaned back in for another kiss.

This past partner was certainly right. Hels got excited (so excited that if he had wings, he’d start floating in the hair with all the happy fluttering) and they ended up moving across the small balcony so Ezra was leaning on the balcony. Their own wings fluttered as they tried to keep Hels as close as possible. His hair was soft, his body was warm, his lips were chapped but gentle, and holy shit how all the worries melted away.

“I wish this could last forever,” Hels rested his head on Ezra’s shoulder.

They ran a hand through his hair, “Me too.”

But those who fly high fall even harder. Physically, metaphorically, emotionally.

There was so much glass on the floor surrounding Ezra. They didn’t dare move, subjects weren’t given shoes. The Director sat behind his desk and glared at them.

“You’re one of our best. Quick, agile, smart, strong. Why did you go and fuck it up?” He stood slowly.

“I’m still all of that, sir. I don’t understand.”

“Come here.”

“Sir, there's glass on the floor—”

“I gave you an order! God, you’re intolerable.” He slammed his hand on the desk. Ezra took a step back out of habit and stepped directly into some glass. It easily cut through their callouses.

Trying not to show much pain, Ezra walked through the glass and in front of the Director’s desk.

He grabbed the hem of their white tank top and pulled them forward. They would brace themself on the desk but that would make things even worse. “I heard that there was a natural Blazeborn at the gala you had some huggy-bear-kissy-face with.”

Ezra did not have the brain power to process how informal the end of that sentence was. “I—What?” Numbness was spreading through their ankles from the pain and their heart was working double time. “Sir, all we did was kiss…?”

“ That’s what I fucking said. Are you aware of the rules, Ezra?”

“Some?” (There are no written rules for subjects, it’s all trial and error.) (The Director probably makes them all up on the spot.)

“Well we have one about romance. Specifically, showing it. Subjects can’t. It distracts and it creates biases. You’d get off easier if it were another subject, but someone outside this facility? Oh, no.” The Director laughed. “That’s dangerous. Let me give you a demonstration of what that demon could do to you.” Briefly letting Ezra go, he dug into one of his many desk drawers and pulled out…a matchbox. “Wings out.”

They were rooted to the floor as they slowly unfurled their wings.

(“I know everyone must say this but, your wings are so majestic.”“It sounds different from you. In a good way.”)

“I need those to grow back healthy for next year but…” The Director struck a match and held it to a place atop each wing. They almost instantly caught fire.

Searing heat ran through Ezra’s delicate nerves as the fire traveled around their wings. Some hair caught on fire, touching the feathers that grew from their head. Getting branded with the iron hurt like hell, burns going through the thin skin like nothing. But the nerves burnt off instantly as well.

The fire from the match wasn’t hot enough to do that. Feathers charred and Ezra’s bird brain kicked in, so they flapped their wings. It made things worse as they continued to scream and fall into the floor. Heat traveled to the bases of the wings and started to singe their shirt. Ash and embers mixed with blood from the glass wounds. They clawed at their arms and started to both curse and squawk.

At some point when many feathers had been burnt away, water started to rain down upon Ezra. The fire went away but the ash and burnt material of the feathers mixed even more with the small puddle of blood already around them. It started to stain their shorts.

The Director crouched in front of Ezra and moved a wet strand of their hair, “Do you understand the demonstration?” He was starting to get wet from the sprinklers as well.

“Yes, sir,” they said with short breaths.

“Good.” He stood up and moved back around his desk. Ezra didn’t know what he did next as they fainted from the pain.

A tuxedo. A Void-be-damned tuxedo. It wasn’t bad , but almost all Aves didn’t wear tuxedos. An open-back tux was much more awkward and weird-looking than an open-backed dress. The tux had no red to demonstrate Ezra’s cardinal genes. No originality.

And they were forced to get their hair cut. Inches upon inches cut so most of their neck could be seen. Cut in a way that forced them to slick it back with gel so they could see.

Their wings had mostly healed all the way. Most of the bigger feathers were still coming in and a few were missing. Medics said they’d grow back.

Visually, they aged a few years. Xisuma had his floppy hair that reminded people that they were only eighteen, Ezra had nothing. And when they stood with the Director (because that was the second part of the year-old punishment), people asked if they were twenty-five and hadn’t been ‘taken’ by the auction (sold was too harsh and real). Ezra had to put on a good face and laugh, explaining that they were eighteen.

The room was the same. The people were the same. The conversation was a little different but still the same. The environment was ten times worse than before. Touches, questions, comments, music.

They would normally be on the balcony or in the bathroom once or twice an hour to escape the stifling air but they couldn’t do that. No privacy anywhere. Always in the center of attention. Every few seconds was ‘Control your face, Ezra. Try not to scream at the people even though they’re little shits. Try not to punch them. Smile and wave, Ezra. Smile and fucking wave.’ And from the Director, knowing smirks. He was enjoying it. Fucking psycho.

“Drink refills, anyone?” A young waiter walked up to the small group. The couple they were talking to nodded and set their empty glasses on the platter and took new ones. The Director shook his head politely.

Ezra put up a finger and quickly downed their half-full glass. “Thank you,” they whispered, exchanging glasses.

The waiter blinked in surprise then dug something out of their pocket, “You’re Mx. Void, correct?”

“Yes, I am them.”

“I was told to give this to you,” they handed over a small wad of paper. “Some gentleman, I don’t know his name.” The waiter smiled and hurried off.

Ezra took a sip of the champagne and opened the note, three pairs of eyes bored into their head. It was a bad sketch of a building from many angles. It looked like a warehouse or factory made of brick with few windows. Another sketch was some birds-eye view, showing this building near a river and similar buildings. They put the note away and laughed to the others, simply saying that they didn’t know what to make of it.

(“Do you have any gala advice, Crimson?”“Whatever your instincts say, don’t follow them. You have no autonomy. Someone wants to touch your wings? Someone wants to touch your hair or skin? Someone wants to kiss you, no matter where? You let them.”“That doesn’t sound right.”“I know. But if you want to be hurt by a scientist, you have to. Stay alive little ones. Especially you, Passeriformes, they love a songbird’s voice and wings.”)

Ezra was allowed to step away from the Director to finally grab some fucking food, but he watched their every movement. Same damn food as every year. They were studying the pastas when there was a tap on their shoulder. Whipping around very fast, they were met with a face they’d never seen before.

“You’re quite a handsome fellow, aren’t ‘ya?” Ezra stifled a flinch and venomous response when the other smiled. Their breath smelled of alcohol, it didn’t help that they were the same height. “And a nice suit.”

“Thank you,” they forced a smile. “Nice dress.” It was absolute shit.

They laughed, “Well, I’m Mrs. Sylvia Smith-Gold. I’ve heard about you from my in-laws, Mr. Ezra Void.”

It was getting harder to smile. “All nice things?”

“Oh, of course…” She smiled in a vaguely cruel way. The smell of alcohol was getting overwhelming. “One of them is a certain Ms. Flora Gold. She says you give good kisses, do you remember her?”

Of course not. So many people pinned them to a wall for things they didn’t want. How the fuck were they meant to remember. Control your face. “I’ve had many kisses over my many years here, they all muddle together.” (They were ten. Ten and scared. Ten and not FUCKING READY FOR THIS. (Control your thoughts and emotions, Ezra.))

Mrs. who-gives-a-shit gasped and smiled, “You must not have that much of a preference.”

May an end crystal blow her apart. “Well I wouldn’t say that— ” Ezra was cut off as the woman spinned them around and put them against the nearest wall. The few people standing near them moved back or have weird looks. “Okay then.”

“Let’s see if you hold up to Flora’s memory.” Neither barely got to take a breath before the MARRIED (holy shit was Ezra’s going to be in trouble for this because they literally didn’t consent to it and it’s NOT their fault) woman started to kiss Ezra. And thank Dragon her eyes were closed because theirs were wide open in surprise.

There was nothing but alcohol and shrimp in her breath but Ezra had to follow the stupid rules and gently kissed the woman back. They let their internal screaming drown everything out. Good.

She broke away and smiled. Before she could say something, a person Ezra both hoped and feared was her significant other rushed over and grabbed her shoulders.

“My wife always gets like this when drunk!” They laughed. “Sorry if her breath was intoxicating sir! Have a good night!” They called out, rushing away with a smile.

Ezra put the back of their hand over their mouth as they tried to quiet the internal screaming. Well, they weren’t very hungry anymore.

The Director smiled and laughed at the situation. (Fucking psycho.)

Like always, Watcher Facility was the last to leave the party. Most hybrids laid or sat in various spots while the ones who worked for the Fletchers cleaned. Ezra learned against a wall with their wings sized down, too tired to curse people out in their mind. People took a large advantage of them knowing it was their last year. When they were away from the Director, there were long touches or kisses with tons of syrupy words added in. When they were close, peaks on the lips and brushes on wings. To say it was more than usual would be wrong. Very. Ezra closed their eyes to block out everything.

“You had a quieter night than normal,” the Director’s voice snapped their eyes open. He was taller than them and had decided to lean over them slightly. This is usual for him and probably the reason Ezra hates people being taller, or at least taller and close enough to kiss.

“Good,” they were done with the smiles. Sadly, it seemed that the Director liked a fighter with sass more than a complacent person.

“Are you ready for the auction? I’m so ready for this year, we’re getting closer to perfection and I'm going to love seeing everyone’s reactions. But then I’ll be seeing you go.” He leaned closer and put a hand under Ezra’s chin to tilt it up.

“I thought you liked perfection. What happened to ‘God, you’re intolerable’?”

“Right before that I told you that you’re one of our best.” He smiled and put a hand around their waist, pulling them closer. “Good flying agility, speed in all elements, wicked smart brains, the other…non-scientific talents you have.” There was a small and light chuckle before he gently closed the gap. Ezra would’ve preferred to taste heavy alcohol on the Director's breath like all the others, but the Director didn’t drink more than two drinks.

They moved their head aside to break the connection, “It’s very late and I’m tired, sir.”

“So?” He moved Ezra’s head back. “You don’t need to kiss me back all that much or act like you're enjoying it. Just being able to do this is all I need. Now, where are those wings of yours?” He felt the few feathers that were currently their wings, “Oh, Ezra. Come on.” There was a cruel smile.

“As you wish,” they growled and made their wings the biggest they could be.

The Director smiled and ran a hand along the feathers as the other moved to their hair. He followed his promise of not caring if Ezra enjoyed the kisses as he continued. They kept their eyes open and started off at a wall, refusing to uncross their arms. Like always, the Director was calm and methodical. Even when he knew it was the last time. A hand constantly combed through one of Ezra’s wings while the other flicked around. Head to as low as he could easily reach.

He drew away, “Now I realize how much putting you in a suit hurts me as well.” He put both arms at Ezra’s waist band (they dug their nails into their sleeves as a response). “You’re much better in a dress or much, much less.”

“It’s very late and I’m tired, sir .” They practically spat the sir. This is not the actions of a gentleman worthy of ‘sir’.

“It will wake you up.”

“ Sir .”

“You know—”

“Excuse me?” Another voice peeped in. The Director didn’t let go as he whipped his head around. This allowed Ezra to see who it was. The same waiter who gave them the note. “We’re going to finish our cleaning soon, it would be best if you got everyone out Mr. Director. And the Fletchers would like the doors closed by 4.” He looked nervous, determined, and angry all at the same time.

“Alright then,” the Director grumbled slightly and let go. Starting to call out for everyone to go out to the cars. Ezra gave a look that hopefully said ‘thank you’ to the waiter. They seemed to understand and gave a smile before walking away.

Now, for two years in a row, Ezra had left the gala with nothing worse than a handsy kiss. No Ave has ever been able to say that before.

“Go without me, I'll be okay.”

“Ezra, I—we can’t leave you!”

“No, no go. I have wings. And we always seem to know where each other is, I’ll be able to find you.”

“But—”

“I’ll find a way to get the tracking device out. Give everyone my regards for being so kind all this time.”

The guest room Ezra’s was sharing with five other people was hot and sticky. Summer nights were warm and there was no fan to turn on. Ezra wouldn’t be out there today if everything had gone to plan. For Watcher Facilities, that is.

The Facility arranged people first by the year they were born (their floor). Then their unit (random), then their block (random). The auction was one block a day. Ezra’s block had fled. They would’ve gone too but a scientist needed to run some test or something, taking them away from the window of opportunity.

So now they were sitting in the room’s windowsill. They had woken up from a dreamless sleep hours ago and decided to look out. This window faced the lawn the auction was going to be held on. Far past the lawn were trees then the skyscrapers of the city. It was past midnight but somehow many of the lights were still on. There was a light northeast breeze.

Ezra peek around the thin curtain back into the room. The bed’s duvet had been taken off and thrown onto the floor to be used as a mattress of sorts. All four people were sprawled out the best they could, trying to cool off the best they could. Even if the summer air was warm, it was bound to be nice. The latch to the window was right there…Ezra could leave.

Their wings were strong and they could fly fast. With their night vision they could try to find that warehouse in that year-old sketch. They gripped their left wrist. Down there, between the bones, was the tracking device. Too hazardous to take out, too deep. Iskall and Doc said they’d found a way to deactivate the things. Should’ve taken them up on it before they left.

Ezra looked to the moon. They stared back. Like a moth to the light they made a decision.

“They gave me wings and I’m going to use them,” they softly promised to themself, reaching for the window latch. There was no looking back as they opened it as wide as they could, letting in the warm air. It was refreshing. Ezra smiled and grew out their wings to the biggest they could be before diving off the ledge and starting to soar through the air.

The wind ruffled their still-short hair and feathers as they climbed up and up. They even felt a little chilly. Still smiling, they beat their wings over the traffic of the city, trying to find their way to a river. Hopefully that drawing was from this city. Minutes go by and they find the river running through the center of the city. They choose a direction and fly for a while, touching down when their eyes start to feel heavy.

But it was not time to sleep. The few people on the streets didn’t seem to mind Ezra as they wandered aimlessly. They were turning down an alleyway when they stopped. A broken bottle of something and a half-full bottle of liquor. Deep in their arm, the tracking device started to make itself known. A rash decision was made. They scooped up some glass and the liquor before taking off and flying to the roof of a nearby building.

There was more of a breeze up there but it would have to do. Facing the wind, Ezra contemplated the objects in front of them. Glass is a very sharp object, capable to going deep. It could make it to the device. Whatever alcohol was in the bottle would have to do. Thank Dragons their hands never shook. Quickly dousing the glass, their hands, and their left forearm, they took up a shard of glass. After a deep breath, they plunged it into their arm.

It cut through almost like butter. A second passed before the pain kicked in. Blood started to appear around the edges as Ezra gritted their teeth and continued. Trying to steer clear of the artery and tendons, they dug around where they thought the device was. When the glass seemed to bump into something, they removed it and peered in.

Beyond the blood and muscles was something that looked like a pill-capsule. Hopefully that was it. Using a smaller than thinner shard, they managed to bring the device up and out of their arm. Discarding the glass, they poured some more alcohol on their arm ( Void did it hurt). Eyes growing blurry from pain, they shrunk their wings and ripped their tank top off. It took a couple tries, but they soon managed to tie the not-so-white garment of their wound before dumping the rest of the alcohol onto the cloth. Ezra was feeling dizzy now but it wasn’t over.

Making their wings capable of flight, they soared low over the city through various alleys. They quickly found a dumpster right behind a clothing store. Sorting through the various trash bags, it took a while to find what they needed. A jacket that disguised the smallest version of their white wings and covered their neck along with a pair of socks and shoes. Everything was mismatched and a bit warm for the weather but it had to do.

Then they found a gas station. The cashier gave them a weird look but no questions as they beelined for the bathroom. Standing at the mirror, they started to meticulously take each feather they had out of their head. Any resemblance had to go. Hair was dyed a red via the blood on their hands blood and skin would have to do. Their skull didn’t bleed as feathers were plucked and thrown into the trash. With that done, they washed their hands and drank some of the tap water. It didn’t taste good but was most likely safe. 

A somewhat new person was in the mirror. A somewhat new person walked out of the brightly-lit store and continued on their walk. Between skyscrapers, amongst people, next to cars, wherever the river took them. For two days. They changed the bandages if and when they could, but it didn't look so good. And they went in and out of sleep in alleys or on roofs. No one but angry landlords came for them.

A bright light being shone directly into their eyes woke Ezra up.

“Who the hell are you?” Ezra grumbled and sat up. 

“You’re alive!” A voice called out. Were there two people? Because that voice wasn’t next to the light. “We were walking around and saw you, breathing a very small amount. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘M good,” they sighed and rested an arm on their knee. The left arm. The pressure disrupted the wound and they squawked before drawing their arm back.

“Are you sure? Hey, I’m a healer if you’re hurt.”

A healer? Healers meant magic, not the medicine a medic or doctor would use. Humans can’t do magic, they don’t have the right chemical makeup or anatomy (Ezra didn’t actually learn any of that they were simply guessing).

“Okay, that pause means you’re considering the help. Give me your arm.” The light was shifted to the side before Ezra had a person crouching in front of them, lightly holding their arm.  They tended up slightly but knew that fighting wouldn’t make the situation any better. The person fumbles but soon managed to pull up their sleeve. “Oh that’s not good,” they gasped. “Pearl, hold the phone.” The second person walked up and took the light back.

This allowed Ezra to see the first person. An amethyst deer hybrid, natural by the fact their ears were that of a deer (the one thing Watcher Facilities couldn't replicate was ears).

The deer carefully unwrapped the bandages and grimaced upon looking at the wound. It wasn’t infected but blood still flowed slowly and it was still rather wide. “This is going to be tough, with how deep it is,” they sighed and waved for the light to be held closer. “I’m going to need to amplify my powers.” Ezra heard a dull ‘click’ and an amethyst pendant was placed into their hand.

“When held, that deepens a connection, right?” They had met a natural topaz dragon hybrid once. This felt like something that came up in conversation.

“Exactly,” they put one hand over the amethyst and Ezra’s hand while the other hovered over the wound. “I need to focus now. Try to stay still.”

The deer took a deep breath as a purple glow started to be emitted from their hand. In their hands, the pendant started to hum and glow as well. Ezra could see that the amethyst of their angers had also started to glow, giving off a mystical light. They also started to feel their muscles and tissue start to bind together. It felt prickly and slightly itchy. Ezra was deadly still as the wound slowly healed. The other had to occasionally take a small breaks from the process before diving back in. 

“Done,” they exhaled and sat back. “It’s a nasty scar but all healed.” The light disappeared as the second person (Pearl?) softly talked to the drained deer.

Ezra looked over the scar. Janky, changed width constantly, and ran down most of their forearm. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The deer sighed.

A second figure shifted. They could see moth wings and antennae in the half-light. “Gem and I live in a close-knit community that could give you a place to rest for the night. You won’t owe us any favors.”

“Pearl,” Gem(?) whispered. “It’s a community for hybrids . I don’t think they’d like a human sticking around.”

“It’s one night—”

“I’m actually a hybrid,” Ezra interjected. “Not natural, but still a hybrid.” For the first time in their life, they turned around and pointed to their burns.

There was a light touch on them. “Oh,” Pearl whispered. “We’ve…had a few of you. They never stayed long.”

“I’d imagine,” Ezra turned back around and put a hand on their new scar. “And if it’s not any problem, I’d rather be—I don’t want to be alone.” Not alone anymore.

“It’s no problem,” Gems sat up fully. “C’mon let’s go.” They held out their hands. All of them held hands and stood up as purple magic slowly surrounded them. In a blink of an eye, they were in a dimly lit building. Like an old factory. Ezra didn’t have time to ponder whether Hels was there before Pearl led them up around the place and to an empty hammock in the rafters. The two said their ‘good night’s and Pearl disappeared somewhere else.

The hammock was surprisingly comfortable. Along with the familiar sounds of people shuffling around or quietly snoring filled the air as Ezra drifted into a much better sleep. A dreamless one, but that was most likely the best. When they finally woke up, it was many hours after everyone else. Sunlight streamed in through various windows, lighting up the entire building.

Most ground-floor bunk beds were neatly made and if any of the rafter hammocks had bedding, they were also made. There looked to be a kitchen in an area, surrounded by makeshift tables and chairs. Off in one sealed-off room, Ezra could just make out a white med. Clinic, perhaps? The other seemed to be bathrooms and showers. People sat in chairs while chatting or sat on the vast floor, playing games mostly. All various hybrids, all looking very happy.

Ezra tore their attention away from the ground below and got out of their hammock, standing calmly on the wide beam next to it. That’s when they noticed a small bag hanging off one of the ropes. Carefully working it open, they found a note (probably wasn’t too important but alas, they cannot read), a set of clothes, and some toiletries. A white tank top that looked to be some sports jersey retrofit for Ave hybrids and khaki shorts. They didn’t necessarily match but would be better than what Ezra was wearing now. Untying the bag from the hammock, they held it close as they found their way down from the rafters and to the bathrooms. They quickly showered, changed, brushed their teeth, and altered their wings so they were just a little bigger than they needed to be for flight. Now that they weren’t running, they rather missed their hair feathers. Hopefully they’ll grow back soon. Trying the bag back to the hammock, Ezra went over to the kitchen-area. Some sign that probably had instructions was on the wall. They stared at it, hoping some sense could be made. The symbols continued to mean nothing.

“Here,” they heard a soft voice say. Ezra turned to see a kid with fish features holding a bowl of stew and a spoon to them. “You seemed a bit confused.”

“Oh, thanks,” they took the stew and smiled. They didn’t know the smells but they were very nice ones. “I sadly can’t read.”

The kid perked up at this, “I can teach you! Or at least try. Mother says I’m very smart for my age. Come with me!” They waved before trotting over to a table. It seemed rude not to follow so Ezra did. Many little cards were spread out on the table, each saying something different. “You can eat while I organize all this.”

The stew was good. They couldn’t really describe it, but they never could. Somehow, they never picked up on food descriptors besides ‘bland’, ‘good’, ‘bad’, and ‘unseasoned’. Soon, the child had sorted the cards into two neat piles and Ezra set the empty bowl off to the side.

“Welcome to class!” They started off with a wide smile. “Let’s start off with introductions. I’m Ms. Adriana. You?” She held her hand out.

“Ezra, they/them,” they shook it.

“Nice to meet you! Can I ask questions?” And Ezra let her. She asked about his life, how it was being a cardinal-hybrid, the people they met, everything her curious brain could think of. Most questions were normal for Ezra and they answered rather robotically. Others they thought about or didn’t answer at all. Adriana didn’t mind then let them ask questions about her.

Apparently she’s seven and lives here with her mother, she never knew her father. She’s very proud of a scar on her left arm, which she got after punching a ‘very bad man’ (she wouldn’t elaborate). Sometimes, Adriana and her mother cook communal meals together. They used to live in a nearby seaside town until the new mayor kicked them and various other families out two years ago. But they like it here, and don’t plan on leaving soon.

Then the lesson started. With Ezra’s excellent memory skills, they could quickly learn to recognize the written alphabet and some numbers quickly. Writing those things down felt rather foreign. Holding a pencil was an odd process and their handwriting was rather bad for a steady hand. Adriana said it usually gets better with practice. Then they went onto simple words, ‘sight words’. The card would be placed out and Ezra would have to guess how to pronounce the word. Most were rather phonetic and easy to get while some had some weird rules that also weren’t very consistent.

“Oh, what’s going on here?” Ezra looked up to see someone who looked exactly like Adriana. Her mother.

“I’m teaching English!” She smiled up at her mother. “It’s going very well, they’re a quick learner.”

“That’s nice.” The mother looked over at Ezra and they gave an awkward wave. “Well, I’m sure you’re having a good time doing this but, we have an errand to run. Francis got sick and can’t get the groceries, we have to do it.”

“Okay!” Adriana turned back to Ezra, “Continue tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” they nodded.

She stood and started to collect the cards. “By the way, you wash the bowl and dry it then put it in the stack. Soon you’ll be able to read out those instructions by yourself!” She smiled and wandered off with her mother.

Ezra waved as they left. Making sure to push the seats in, they took their bowl back to the kitchen area and followed what Adriana said. They didn’t know what to do now. Then they spotted the ladder from the rafters to a latch in the roof. They climbed up and walked out onto the roof. It was fairly sloped except for a flat section at the top. With the wind blowing at their face, they climbed into the flat part and looked out wherever they were.

Other, more abandoned-looking warehouses and factories surrounded the area. The streets were partly cobble and partly concrete. Weeds grew out of cracks and some newly planted trees bore leaves. Off in the distance was the river, then suburban houses. Most had unique character to them and more greenery. Even here, the city’s honks were easily heard. Over in the distance, Ezra saw Adriana and her mother walking over to a faraway bridge.

They sat there for a while, letting the breeze ruffle their hair and feathers. But then they stretched their wings and dove off the side of the building, catching the wind. It wasn’t for a change in scenery but just the feeling of being able to dive down low then shoot back up into the sky. Weaving through buildings and snagging leaves off trees.

By the time they landed back on the roof, their shoulders burned and wings ached. Their heart was pounding in their ears while they looked out at the city. Never had they flown like that. Ezra was given time back at the Facility where they and the other Aves could fly around a large dome or the void but that…Freedom to go anywhere . Do anything . Dragons it was beautiful.

Then it dawned on them. They gasped and put a hand over their mouth. They had left. Out of nowhere, they took no one with them. It was so selfish. Did the auction go through all the way? The people in that room, did they try to leave? Some could fly. Climbing…could work. But, no one leaves the Facility’s grip because of the tracker. So no one would be bold enough. Right? What was today? Ezra was meant to be out with F so…today was the last day. Maybe they could make it out to the house? See what was going on.

They shook out their wings to fly. Heart still beating, in fear this time, Ezra started to walk towards the other edge of the roof. Five steps way and they started to extend their wings—

A hand grabbed their wrist, “Please don’t leave.”

They froze and spun around. Hels. He looked formal in a dress shirt and pants, with his hair slicked back. But there were barely visible dark circles under his eyes as fear and tears lurked behind his blazing red eyes.

“You’re actually here?” The realization with the other hybrids and Hels being right in front of them muddled Ezra’s brain. “I—where?”

“I live here with Wels, we were out this morning.” His grip seemed to tighten. “We’ve been out for a week. I thought you were dead, or worse.”

“You thought…” They took a step away from the roof’s edge. 

“Wela and I we—” Hels took a moment to prepare and a spew of words, “Us and a large group of others have been planning for weeks and weeks to mess with the auction. They set everything up, including deactivating the trackers, so I don’t really know what was going on but Wels and I were there to give the go sign. Wels because he worked there and me because I pleaded to be there. So I could grab you when your turn came. But through every explosion, dust blasting, distraction, you were never there. A whole block was missing according to some rumors, so I thought you might’ve been with them. Then some other guys from another were gone so maybe, you were there too. Then Wels said to me how…important and special you seemed to that Director guy and others and I thought, ‘They would let them be sold off’. So then, you were either dead after escaping or still in that place…”

“So everyone in this year’s auction escaped?”

“As far as I know.”

“Okay…” Ezra shook their wrist out of Hels’ grip and sat down on the roof. Hels sat down near them, keeping a careful eye on them. For a considerable amount of time, the two of them sat there in silence. Erza processed the information just dropped onto them and Hels waited patiently. “Thank you,” they looked over at Hels. “Thank you for doing all that.”

“You did ask me to,” he cracked a smile. “That and to treat you like any other person I met on the street.”

Ezra laughed, light and airy. “So you’d kiss any other person you met on the street? I didn’t know you were such a player!”

“Okay, woah, wait. I didn't mean it like that ! Of course I wouldn’t walk up to a random person and kiss them!”

“So you aren’t treating me like any other person you’d meet?”

“Yes? No? Why are you being so difficult?” Hels said with a frustrated laugh and smile.

“Oh, I’m just teasing you,” Ezra rolled their eyes and moved to put an arm around Hels.

He gave them a quick kiss on the cheek, “That’s all you get for being mean.” He leaned against Ezra as they scoffed. “So…you’re okay with us, y’know, dating?”

“I am, obviously I am. But you will have to cut me some slack and be careful. All my past experiences aren't positive encounters.”

“Mhm. You also gotta get used to the wonders of society. One small step at a time.”

“Yes, one small step at a time.”