Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Before we start, some information and disclaimers.

1: First things first, I don't own Minecraft or the MCYTS characters. This is done for entertainment of myself, and y'all are along for the ride. Insert normal warnings about violence (Maybe/Reference) and swearing. 

2: This is a collection of shorts and one shots to expand and show off the Hargran world. I think it will be mostly 'look at this weird human/alien trait' and slice of life that doesn't fit in the main series. That being said...

3: There will be spoilers. I will put where in the timeline each chapter is in, so be sure to complete them before reading. There might be important hints about characters hidden within. 

Chapter Text

Techno groaned as he returned to the kitchen and collapsed onto a bench. 

Philza looked up from his com. “Got him back to the nest?”

Techno blinked for a moment. “Yah. He’s in bed.” 

Phil scooted over and draped a wing over his broad back. “You’re doing great, mate. He’s safe, and warm, and home.”

“I know that. You know that. The question is, does he know that?”

“If he doesn’t, he’ll learn.” The avorn bumped his head against Techno’s.

 Floof scrambled into the room and pawed at Techno’s leg. Wilber watched the hargran scoop up the small animal and cuddle it to his chest. What is it with hargrans and small animals?

Techno huffed and smiled at him. “I think it has to do with our social instincts.”

Wilber blinked. “I said that outloud?” Pale spots blossomed down his arms.

“Yep.”

Wilber dropped his head in his arms. “Fuck.”

Philza chirped in amusement. “It’s ok mate. Techno is really good with animals.”

Techno stroked Floof. “So basically, Humans have a deep bond instinct. We’re about as social as piptins and isolation can cause problems similar to what Wolgs deal with. Just about every animal we domesticated is a social animal as well. Sheep, cattle, horses, all are herd animals. Chickens and turkeys have flocks and dogs run in packs. Cat’s aren’t quite the same… They live in groups, but are quite comfortable on their own. It was less us domesticating them and more them setting up shop around us for easter pray that ate our food.

“Um… anything small and fitting in what we consider cute, and almost every baby animal fits into that category, gets an automatic ‘aww let’s bond to it’ from humans. I think it’s there to encourage the care of our own young and any young we might find without an adult. It increases the child’s chance of reaching adulthood and adding to the population.”

“So it’s because you can’t say no to a baby?”

“Yep. And they’re useful.” Techno held up FLoof and brought him close to the phanton. “Dogs were bred to guard homes and herds, help fight wars, and hunt prey. Even Floof, small as he is, was originally bred for a purpose.”

“What could something so small be useful for?” Phil asked. “I’ve seen how much you eat. There’s no way he is able to hunt something big enough to feed you.”

“No.” Techno grinned. “Any small dogs were bred to hunt rats and mice that would eat stored grain and spread disease in cities. The Black Plague is probably the most famous example of what happens when there’s an overflow of disease-carrying animals.”

Wilber reached out his hand to the dog. “But he’s not, right? He’s friendly?”

“Yep.” Techno’s face faltered at the sound his dog was growling. “Um… Wilber?”

“What?” he lowered his hand and touched Floof’s head.

Floof twisted and snapped. Techno shouted and struggled to hold his pet. Wilber yelped and jerked away. He ran to the other side of the table.

“I thought you said he was friendly!”

“He is! Usually!” Techno lost his grip and the dog dropped to the floor. He took off, disappearing down the hall.

Phil blinked. “I don’t have any trouble with him.”

“Maybe he’s just not used to you? You are a stranger I guess.” Techno suggested.

Wilber eyed the door. “I’m ok staying a stranger if it means I get to keep all my fingers. I need them.”

“Yah. It’s probably best if you keep all your body parts.” Techno agreed. “So I assume Tommy likes animals too?”

“He chases sylvarins that nest in the walls outside our flat. To pet. Like they don’t have venomous spines or teeth that can literally bite stone.” Wilber looked up at them. “Even I know not to get too close and I’m immune to puffer poison.”

“Yah… we’re not immune to venom, but it might be a minor type that wouldn’t cause more than an annoyance then a major suffering. I mean, technically, bee stings are venomous, but it’s not going to kill someone unless there’s several hundred stings or they are allergic to bees.” He shrugged. “And even then, most first world countries have medical centers that can get you the antidote if you get there in time.”

“What are bees?” Wilber asked.

“Um… like Mellifera, but smaller.” He held his fingers apart. “They’re usually about this size. There’s several thousand different species but only one or two have a stinger. Usually when you hear about bee stings, it’s actually a wasp. And those guys are nasty.”

“Really? But if they’re so small…” Wilber looked at Phil. “They can’t really be a problem right?” The avorn shrugged.

Techno laughed at him. “Bruh. Their size is what makes them such a pain to deal with. It’s harder to hit something small then it is to hit something big. There’s one wasp, people say getting stung by it is like getting a hot nail shot into their leg. And bees aren’t helpless either. When they work together to defend their nest… I’ve heard stories of one kind smothering enemies and creating enough heat to literally cook them alive.”

Both non-humans were looking at him in shock.

“And you live with them?” Wilber finally managed to ask.

“Yep. We share a planet.”

Phil leaned close. “How are you not dead yet?”

Techno laughed. “Wait until I tell you about snakes. Or scorpions, bears, tigers, buffalo, ostrich. And that’s just the land animals. The ocean has thousands of animals that can and have killed us.”

The two looked at each other.

“We’re never going to their planet, right?”

Philza nodded. “Right.”

Chapter Text

In the MyHut Lobby, people of all races and planets swarmed as they moved from one ship to another. Within one of the ports, beside a fountain, a krat sat, sunning herself on the rim as she waited for her ship to arrive. Several children ran around, giggling as they chased each other. One, a enpeice, tripped and tumbled to the ground. He looked around, and finding no one watching him, jumped back up and continued his running.

A female zolger with her children settled on a bench. One of the children joined the others in their play, the other sitting beside his mother. He kicked his legs and looked around. 

“Mamma. Mamma." He pulled on her sleeve. "Mamma!” 

“What?”

“How are stars born?”

The zolger blinked. “How..? I don’t know.”

“What about planets?”

“I don’t know.” She gave her son a exasperated look. “You’re asking too many questions. Wait until we reach the Library. The Keepers can tell you.”

The krat chuckled from her seat. She motioned to the zolger child. “I know the answer to those questions. Or, perhaps, it’s better to say I know one possibility. For no one but the Lady knows for certain how the world began.” She motioned to the other children, and they gathered round as she began to Speak.

“In the Beginning, there was Nothing. No planets, or stars, no races or species or Kisden. Instead, there were Creators.”

“What are Creators?” the zolger child asked.

That is a very good question. Unfortunately, no one knows. Are they big? Are they small? Do they have wings or fins or tails? Not even the Watchers can See what a Creator looks like.” She smiled at the child. “Perhaps you can find out someday.

“The space the Creators dwell varies from telling to telling. Some describe it as a vast hall, with doors stretching on forever. Others say it is like a city, with buildings that reach the sky. One thing is clear. It is an endless space, shifting and changing as more Creators appear. In these buildings, or through these Doors, lie the worlds that the Creators make. Some are as vast as the Void. Others reach only as far as a village. Each Door and the World beyond it is as different and as unique as its Creator.

Now these Doors were open to any who might wander through. After all, what’s the point of Creating, if there’s no one to see and appreciate the Work? While hundreds of thousands of Creators walked through Doors every day, we are only interested in One.”

“The Lady!” Several of the children called out.

“That’s right. The Lady.” The Teller took a sip of water from a thermos. “She wandered through the Doors as they caught Her fancy. Some were poorly made by young Creators or by those who put little effort into Their Creations. Others were complex and held many secrets to discover. There were those that had been abandoned by their Creator as Their interests shifted and They moved on. In each, the Lady found something She enjoyed, taking the pieces to use Herself someday. For She was always looking for something new. Something She might not have thought of, that could bring new life and perspective to Her Creations.

Then, one World caught Her eye. It was a small, new World, not yet complete, but unlocked to any who might wander by. We don’t know what was in that World fully. But we know it held a Warrior, first of his kind, lost from his planet. The World told his story; of meeting new races and people, making friends and enemies and the search for his home. During Her wanderings in this World, the Lady came across a question.

“It’s a simple question, but one rarely asked by the Races.

‘What if…?’

‘What if…?’ She thought. And that question was followed by another. 

‘Why not?’

“As She spoke that Question, that ‘Why not?’ a Key appeared in her hand. She held the Key, looking it over, feeling the texture, learning the weight, before reaching out, in the way of all Creators, and turned it. And when She did, a new Door appeared.

“Through that Door, was the nothingness that is the Void. And in the Void, a Spark flared. It fluttered, shimmering weakly, and the Lady reached out and blew gently on it, Her Breath whispering the Question. And the Spark grew and grew until it became the Answer. 

“The Lady walked through the Void, scattering the dust of the Answer behind her, like an enpeice scatters seeds for growth. And like seeds, the dust took root and grew, forming Planets, each with life and possibility growing on their surface. The heat of the Spark followed, becoming Stars that danced around the Lady, around the Spark that Answered the Question.

“And then Word came. Word that the Creator, who the First Warrior had been born of, Passed into the Beyond, for not even the Creators are free from the passing of Time. The Lady mourned this Passing and her Tears became the waters that feed our Planets. Many Creators, including the one that brought the Question, abandoned Their work, too heartbroken to continue.

“But the Lady did not. Instead, She smiled through Her grief at the Planets and Stars. She reached out and scooped the dust of the Answer and the heat of the Spark and took a drop of the Tears. And She formed them together into the Races, Her Breath filling them with Life. And some from each Race, She blessed, and they are who we call the Kisden.

“Oh! I know about the Kisden!” A enpeice child called out. “The Brine brothers!”

The krat purred. “That’s right. The enpeice Kisden are Hero and Nox Brine. Every race is said to have at least one immortal Kisden.

“The Lady worked on her World, adding and taking away parts as her thoughts grew. Finally, She was done. It wasn’t perfect, for no mortal can make things perfect, not even the Creators. But it was good enough that She was ready. She went to the Door and drew the Key and opened it to the lands of Creators. She opened the Door and left it unlocked so any might wander through. 

“Did any?” A wolg pup asked.

“Yes, many Creators wandered through, delighting over the World the Lady had made. They will never stop walking through our World, watching Her Work and finding more secrets each time.” The krat’s com beeped. Her ship was docked and ready for boarding. “And that is how I think the World came to be. Do you?” She stood and looked at the crowd that had gathered as she spoke. They parted and she passed through. The zolger child jumped up and tried to run after her. A Gol’lean blocked his view as she passed, and when she moved, the krat was nowhere to be seen. She had vanished.

Chapter Text

Deep in the vastness of the Myn’Capht galaxy, thousands of planets spun around hundreds of suns. Thousands more asteroids floated on their trajectory through space. Upon one of these asteroids, a piece of white quartz and calcite, lay the home of the Watchers. Under the surface of the asteroid lay a labyrinth of courtyards and rooms, bound together by a web of halls. Within one of the rooms, a watcher Woke.

--

Quesa gasped and sat up in his bed. He lunged forward, grasping at the future he had seen. It faded, the string growing fainter and fainter as time rolled along.

“No… no. no. no!”

Quesa tumbled from his bed. One of the nameless servants that tended to the Watchers rushed into the room. She grabbed him and gently helped him to sit.

“Easy, master. Catch your breath. You’re here now. It’s safe.”

“No, I…” Quesa pushed her away and heaved himself up. “I need that future!”

“Shhh. You’ll get that future, I’m sure.” She scurried to bring one of his pale purple eyecover. “There we go. Right over the eye, yes yes. There we go. Don’t need to be seeing anything right now. Why don’t you tell me about what you Saw?”

Quesa closed his eye as the transparent fabric wrapped around his face. “I Saw… I Saw the sky… filled with wings…”

The reflen’s fur fluffed in amusement. “I’m sure you did.”

“I did!” Quesa blinked at her. “I saw wings in the sky!” He turned to the door. “I need to find how that happened. What needs to be done…” Quesa marched down the hall, his feet silent on the cold white stones. Several watchers, dressed in the palest of blues and lavenders, moved around him, silent as they went about their own work. Quesa turned past the Record Room. He opened a door and entered the room beyond. 

An elderly watcher sitting on a chair looked up at him. The uncovered eye bore into Quesa. “Why are you here?” His voice filled the room, echoing off of the white walls.

“I need to use the Viewing Room.” Quesa’s voice was soft in comparison.

“Need?” The elder rose with his voice. “You are in the Inbetween. You have no Need for anything.”

“I need to see this future.” Quesa whispered.

The elder stared into him. “Very well. Come.” He stood and unlocked the door.

The Viewing Room was a blank space, made of smooth quartz without break or seam. The only distinction in the room was a pair black seats that seemed to float in the white void. The elder watcher took one. Quesa took the other.

“Tell me the future you seek.”

Quesa reached out. “It was a small future. A string, really. But… I saw…”

The watcher smiled. “Something amazing?”

“I saw the sky filled with wings.”

The elder’s eye blinked at him. “Wings?”

“Yes.” Quesa looked at the elder. “I don’t know what the race was. Will be. But they flew.”

“What did they look like?”

“Their bodies had the scales of a cretoon or a gaden . Some were dark purple, while others were more yellow. They had four limbs that they used for walking. The front two were used for… holding things and making things. They had giant fangs in their mouths, and large claws on the ends of each limb. They used the claws to carve and dig. When they breathed, there was some sort of gas.”

“What about their wings?”

“They were made of leathery skin that stretched across a frame. So big. It had to be. They are so big…” Quesa frowned. “I… I need to see it again.”

The elder took a deep breath. “Very well. Focus and Look.”

Quesa removed his eyecover. The air around him rippled to life with silver threads. Some were the thick ropes of futures guaranteed. Others were less certain, either an improbable future, or still too early in time to confirm.

Quesa ran his hand through the strings, looking for the one he had seen. There! The string turned from silver to gold as he grabbed it. 

He gasped as he was sucked into the potential future.

The large male soared through the sky, brilliant yellow scales glittering in the sun. Below him on the ground, other races worked, harvesting a field of golden wheat. The faces lifted at the sound of the creature’s call. They waved in greeting before returning to their work. The male banked, heading to a mountain on the horizon. As he approached, a second day’gorn, this one with scales of rich purple, swept alongside him.

She flashed her fangs at her brother in greeting, and he snapped at her playfully. 

The pair landed in a large cave. Smooth stones paved the floor, and complex carvings painted in a rainbow of colors decorated the walls.

“Want to bet Chy is sleeping?” The female asked.

“No bet.” The male answered. He reached into a pouch under his neck and pulled out a hat. The female grinned as he balanced the colorful accessory between his horns, and she reached over, spinning the twirler on top.

“You still carry that thing?”

“Like you don’t have your hat with you at all times.”

The female snorted, sending a cloud of sparkling purple gas into the air. “My dad gave me that hat. Of course I still carry it.”

A second female poked her head into the cave. She pushed a pair of tinted goggles off her eyes and chirped happily. “You guys made it! Come on in. Looks like we’re just waiting on Rammy.”

The first two day’gorns followed her down a large hall. Indarians passed them, each one pausing in their silent business to bow a greeting to the three. 

“Is Apple-Pie joining us?” The male asked.

The second female looked at him in surprise. “Didn’t anyone tell you? She had her clutch two days ago.”

The male gasped. “She did?” He grinned. “I’m an uncle!”

“Again.” The first female muttered under her breath. The second chuckled. They entered a large room. Several day’gorns were already inside. Sitting on a pedestal at the far end was a male, yellow scales scuffed and chipped in places. He dozed as his siblings chatted amongst themselves. A second pedestal stood empty beside him.

The scene rippled, and Quesa found himself looking at other potential futures.

Half a dozen day’gorn snarled and tore into each other, the survivor a young male. He crushed the skull of a female in his mouth. Blood stained a bandana of woven gold worn around his neck, and poured from wounds on his sides. He staggered back and collapsed to the ground. He heaved for breath, and lay still.

A female day’gorn roared in a ruined garden. A group of hargrans surrounded her. They attacked, shooting flaming arrows and throwing javelins that tore into her deep violet scales. She shrieked and spat a cloud of purple gas. Two hargrans darted forward and held up a device. It sucked in the gas, collecting it into a bag. The other hargrans continued the attack.

A avorn was outside a hospital, pacing helplessly. A voidwalker exited the building and the avorn leapt at him. They held a hurried conversation before the voidwalker led the avorn into the building. In a large room, almost a dozen day’gorn young lay on beds. They were too thin. Too still. Their scales had lost their tint, turning pure white. The avorn knelt at a bed, where a female lay. He ran his hand over the newt’s head. When he pulled back, he held a ribbon. The scarlet scrap of fabric spilled from his hand like blood. The voidwalker gently lifted the avorn and led him back outside.

Quesa gasped and began digging through the string, looking for the threads that lead to the adults. 

No… No… Where are they? He gave the worst swear he knew. None of them- A flash of juniper green wings with olive eyespots. There! Quesa caught the tread. He wrapped it around his wrist so he wouldn’t lose it again. A quick search revealed it to be the only one that offered life.

Quesa pulled himself out of the future and back to the present. The elder was watching him. “You found it.”

“Yes.” Quesa held up his wrist. “I have it.”

The elder examined the thread. “It’s thin. I don’t need to tell you what the chances of this future are.”

“I can make it thicker.”

The elder looked him over. “They have forbidden that.”

“And yet They’ve done it before. They will do it again.” Quesa stood. “I need to go.”

“Yes, you do. Before They see what you’re doing.”

“You’re not going to stop me?”

The elder smiled. “As you have said: We’ve dabbled in shaping the future before. We are why the day’gorn are dead. I think it’s fitting that we are why they are back.” He walked to the far wall. “I think you will want to leave through the back door.” Quesa slid his eyecover back on as the elder pressed his hand against the wall. The stone glowed and a doorway opened beside him. “Come along.”

The elder led the way through the dark passage. The path turned and twisted, rising and falling suddenly in stairs and gentle slopes. Quesa couldn’t begin to guess where he was being led. Finally, the elder opened a spot in the wall, and light flooded in. Quesa followed the elder into the room beyond.

A window looked down on the Front Courtyard. Several watchers sat on the benches or walked the paths below. The center of the room held a shape of black. Quesa blinked in surprise.

“That’s the Portal.” He looked at the elder. “Why are we here?”

“You need to leave without Them catching you, don’t you?”

Quesa frowned. “I think so, but…”

The elder chuckled. “This isn’t called the Portal Room for fun, child.” He tapped the black frame. “These things used to be the quickest way to travel between planets. The other races might have forgotten how they’re used, but we haven’t. At least, I haven’t.” He flipped something and the space within the frame glowed purple. “You’ll want to pick a name for yourself. We might not use names here, but out there? Better you choose it for yourself, then have someone give you one.”

“I… have one. ” Quesa realized that he had never thought of himself as anything before today.

The elder smiled. “Good.” He typed something into the portal. “I don't know where you’ll end up. It’s better for you if I don’t. But it’ll be where you need to be, I'm sure.”

Quesa eyed the glow nervously. “Are you curtin about this?”

The elder snorted. “You think you’re the first watcher that wants to change things? That needed to leave here? I know what I’m doing.”

Quesa took a deep breath. He straightened his spine and stepped forward.

“A word of advice!” The elder shouted after him. “Keep moving forward!” 

For a moment, Quesa felt himself floating. There was no up or down. He was standing, but there was no ground to stand on. 

Keep moving forward.

He started walking. The space around him remained unchanged: a purplish black color with pale lavender pinpricks. One of the pinpricks began to grow bigger and bigger. Quesa found himself moving faster and faster towards it. The light grew bright, and Quesa covered his head.

The light faded and as it did so, noise ripped over him. Quesa blinked and looked around amazed. He had never physicly stepped outside the Inbetween before. It was beautiful.

He stood on the edge of an empty field. To one side the turquoise waves of an ocean lapped the golden shore. The other was a rich green spread of the waist-high grass. The only sign of habitation was the black ruins of the portal behind him. 

Quesa turned away from the water and started into the field. Birds flew around, chattering to each other. They flashed their feathers, the reds and blues bright against the green grass. Crickets sang together filling the air with sound. 

Halfway across, he realized something: rather than wander around looking for inhabitants, he should look into this planet’s future, to see where the residents are and will be.

Quesa removed his mask and gazed through the planet’s future. He was surprised to see that this was the planet that his visions had shown him and smiled. Somehow, the elder had sent him right where he needed to be. Now he just needed to make the day’gorns, and get the buildings up, and find the caretakers, find the one with the green wings… there was a lot to do. Years worth of work. Maybe even decades. That was ok.

He just needed to keep moving forward. 

Chapter Text

Rivendell Prince dies! Locals blame royal curse!

Prince Zornoth of Rivendell was announced dead this week. The prince had been struck the withering fever several weeks ago and we spoke with the locals. They blame a curse said to have been placed on the royal family almost five hundred years ago. This curse has been blamed for the death of not only Prince Zornoth, but also King Alpin the seventh, father of the deceased prince and King Smajor. The prince leaves behind his twin brother, King Smajor, and a fiancé: Princess Thay of Dawn.

ConCorp Country Club announces participants of yearly golf tournament!

One of the biggest events of the span has come again. ConCorp has released the attendance list of their yearly golf charity. The list includes intergalactic names such as Lord Beast, the Renperor, and of course her Royal Highness, Pearl Helianthus. Queen Pearl says she’s grateful for the donations and looking forward to using them to help with the restoration of Gilded Helianthus, which is still struggling to recover from a natural wildfire that  destroyed their crop fields and main export three years ago. 

Chapter Text

Sapnap drifted among the crowds of Blasted Forge. He was supposed to get something for people. But he had no idea what would be good gifts… Gold jewelry would work for Techno, since he was supposed to be a piptin.  And Dream liked music… What did human embers like?

“Sapnap!” A voice pierced through the crowd and something slammed into his side.

Sapnap fought to keep from burning the source of the noise. A person… probably looked at him. A cloth of bright purple covered zer eyes and kept Sapnap from making eye contact. 

“Sapnap! I found you! Where are the others?”

“What others?”

“The humans! Dream and Drista and Foolish. Oh and Quackity! I miss Quackity. Almost as much as I miss you.”

Sparks danced along Sapnap’s body and he carefully pushed the person away from him with a flipper. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Dream is a enpeice, and I don’t know anyone else with those names. I think you’re getting me mixed up with someone.”

“No I’m not.” The person frowned at him. “You’re Panpas Halo, but Dream calls you Sapnap because Panpas sounds like the name of an animal in his language. You were adopted by Count Badboy Halo, who also adopts Dapper. Or maybe he won’t… Or maybe he does but Dapper dies before he can meet you? The threads aren’t clear… But! You helped save Kvinna once Techno found her.” The fabric rippled as the speaker blinked. “You’re looking for what to get people? For Christmas? I can help! I know just what everyone likes!” Ze grabbed Sapnap’s flipper and pulled him down the road.

“What? Wait!” Sapnap sent a puff of gas before him, keeping him from being dragged through the air. “Who the fuck are you?”

The person stopped and turned zer head in surprise. “I’m Karl! You know me, Sapnap. We’re friends. Ranboo’s the one who forgets, not you.”

“Well I did forget. Remind me what your race is again?”

“I’m a watcher of course.”

Sapnap’s hair burst into flame. A watcher.  Watchers were… so rare, most people didn’t believe they existed. Bad had told him about them. To have one claiming he knows Sapnap… “Ok. So you can see the past and the future?” Sapnap allowed the other male to pull him down the street.

“Oh no. I’m a zed watcher. We only see potential ends. Alpha watchers are the ones who see the beginning.”

“So you see…”

“The future. I’ve been allowed to see whatever future I want now, since I left the Inbetween. Oh! Here!” Karl dragged Sapnap into a building. “You can get Philza a recording of Indarian mythology. He misses hearing the stories.”

“Um. Ok.” Sapnap followed Karl through the aisles and to where discs were stacked. Karl dug through them before pulling one out. 

“Here we go! Oh, and there’s one that Wilber would like.” Karl grabbed another disk. “And one that Dream enjoys.” He handed the three disks to the eld.

“You think they’d like these?”

“I know they do. This one’s Dream’s favorite. It’s got sounds from his home planet.”

Sapnap looked the disk over. “It does?”

“Yep. The instruments sound like water moving and wind blowing. Dream loves it. Music is important to human culture after all.”

Sapnap brought the disks to the counter. “Is that so? You know a lot about humans?”

Karl froze under the gaze of the shopkeeper. Sapnap flicked his flipper up and covered the male’s face. He quickly paid for the disks and pulled Karl outside.

“You seem to know a lot about humans.”

“Oh. Yes. I live with them. Or I will?” His face darkened. “Or… No, that's if They get their way. But They won’t. I won’t let them.” He looked at Sapnap. “I can’t. It’s not how things are supposed to be done.”

Sapnap hesitated. That was… too deep for him. “Ok Karl. Where to next?”

The watcher brightened. “This way!” He led the eld through the crowds. They spent the next couple hours wandering the streets, with Karl pointing out spots that had what he called ‘potential significance’.

They stopped at a stall for lunch and sat on some benches to eat.

“So Karl…” Sapnap finished his food. “Where did you get that name?”

“Oh I picked it myself.” The watcher looked at the eld and showed his teeth in what Sapnap recognized as a human smile. “Karl Jacobs. Karl means ‘freeman’ and while I’m not a man, I am free! I got away, and Jimmy lets me stay with him. And only someone who wants to die would attempt to take something from Jimmy. Jacob means ‘one who replaces another, usually through force or trickery’. It’s a warning about my people.” His face darkened. “They’re not that nice.”

“What does that make you then?”

“Oh I’m nice. I don’t like time as a rope. Threads are far more interesting. It’s fascinating to see all the ideas the Lady has and to see what we decide without Her input. To see not what will be but what could… You know there’s one where Philza died? And one where Dream never found you and George! That one was so sad to see. I’m glad he beat up Hex’dea and saved you guys.”

Sapnap sparked in alarm. One where Dream didn’t break onto the slave ship? Where he hadn’t save Sapnap and protected him in that swamp? Sapnap didn’t want to think about what could have happened to him before his father would have found him. Or what would have happened to George.

“Karl!” A voice rang out and a krat hurried up.

“Kris!” Karl jumped up and threw his arms around the male. “You found me!”

“Shit Karl. We’ve been looking for you. What have we told you about wandering off?”

“But I didn’t get lost. I was helping Sapnap. He’s getting gifts for everyone.”

A second krat followed. “Karl, you can’t just wander off. You could get hurt. And then the boss would be sad.”

“But Sapnap was with me. No one can hurt me when I’m with Sapnap. Dream and Quackity will cut them up and Sapnap then turns them to ash.”

The first krat sighed. He untangled himself from Karl’s limbs and looked Sapnap over. “Hi. I’m Kris, and this is Chandler. Thanks for keeping an eye on him. I’m sorry for any problems he’s been causing.”

Sapnap sparked a greeting. “It was no problem. He has actually been a help to me. I’m Panpas Halo, but my friends call me Sapnap.”

Chandler twitched his ear. “Halo. Any relation to Count Halo of Badland?”

“He’s my dad.”

The two krats exchanged a look and Sapnap wondered what his dad had to say about these two. And their boss.

Kris fluffed his tail and snagged Karl’s arm. “We need to go. Remember Boss’ meeting, Karl? It’s starting soon. And you wanted to be there for it.”

Karl stood frozen for a moment. Suddenly he jerked. “Oh! Jimmy’s meeting with the Renporor! He’s dangerous. He tried to kill-” he stopped short and clamped a hand over his mouth.

The krats flicked their ears at Sapnap and led the watcher away. “Thanks for taking care of him again!” Kris shouted over his shoulder. “We really appreciate it.”

“No problem!” Sapnap shouted back. He started down the street. Best get everything back in the Eagle before Dream saw what he was carrying.

Chapter Text

Beware the Slayer

With talons to tear

With claws to grab

With wings of blood

Beware the Slayer 

When the moon goes dark

When the stars go out

When the night goes still

Then the Slayer flies

When imps wander in the dark

When the Polemis hunt too far

When the Skylos run in fear

Then the Slayer hunts

Beware the Slayer

With eyes to see

With beak to bite

With voice to freeze

Beware the Slayer

Watch the skies and watch the winds

Watch the clouds and lightning

Watch the shattered plateaus

From there the Slayer strikes

Eat the eyes and snap the bones

Gouge the flesh and crush the horns

Run and flee but nowhere’s safe

Thus the Slayer kills

Beware the Slayer

With talons to tear

With claws to grab

With wings of blood

Beware the Slayer

Chapter Text

The Watcher sat in a crumbling room. A candle flickered, providing the only light in the otherwise dark chamber. Behind the Watcher lay a stone coffin where a once-great king slept. The watcher clothes were unbecoming of his kind: a dusty black shirt and worn brown trousers. No thin, transparent cloth was in sight. A leather bag sat beside him, ignored as its owner Watched.

The candle burned low. The flame sputtered and flickered as it tried to not drown in its own wax. The watcher opened his single eye. For a moment, it glowed teal, and the air rippled as the visions of the Past faded. The glow dimmed before fading away, turning the eye back into the darkness of the twilight sky. The watcher blinked and stood. He moved stiffly, stretching each arm and leg, pushing each finger back and reaching down to his feet.

He pulled his bag onto his back and picked up the candle, ignoring the sting of hot wax. A hole in a wall led to a crumbling stairwell. It circled on itself bringing him up and up, out of the dark earth. The top ended in a wall that had fallen into the main crypt. A voice rang through the dark halls.

“Dad! Dad, where are you? Dad!”

“I’m over here, David!” The watcher called.

A ka’pour nugget thudded into view. “Where-? I just came that way! Uncle Zloy! I found him!”

The watcher smiled. “David, look. There’s a false wall here. I found the king’s grave inside!”

David hurried over. “Yah?” He stuck his head into the gap. “Ohhh! Anything good down there?”

“Burial treasures. Some urns. No” The watcher snagged his son’s collar. “You can’t eat anything.”

“But Dad!”

“Don’t you ‘but dad’ me. You already ate the copper candle holders when we first got here. I’m not letting you eat any more artifacts.”

A zoly made his way through the halls, lanturn glowing in his hand. “There you are, Pix. The representatives from Tumble Town are here. And the deliveries from Animalia have arrived.”

“Oh good. Put them in the museum for now. I’ll take a look later.” 

“Uncle Zloy! Dad won’t let me eat the buried treasure!”

“There’s some iron and gold ingots in the crates marked with your name!” The zoly shouted as David darted out of the crypt. He turned back to Pix. “Find something good?”

“Yep.” Pix stretched and yawned. “Found the King’s Grave. It looks like there’s some sort of mural down there on a wall. I want some raycons and bru’anes down there cleaning it off. And see if Maria knows anything.”

“Got it. Come on. Dinner’s going to be ready soon.” The two climbed out of the crypt to where an enpeice was squatting in front of an oven. The scent of fresh bread and roasting meat was in the air, bringing the archaeologist crew round. Several enpeice and avorn helpers were piling food on tables for the buffet. Fruit, veggies, fish and ground meats, some iron and copper and gold nuggets for the goleans…

Voices called to each other as the crews returned from their various assignments. An indarian popped into existence, purple sparks scattering around her.

Pix called out to her. “Maria! We found something!”

The indarian turned to him. Her purple eyes peered through her protective goggles. Her skin flickered in a patter of purple speckles that Pix recognized as curiosity. “What have you found, Sir?”

“The King’s grave. I want some bru’anes and raycons working on cleaning the walls tomorrow. Can you arrange a crew?”

“Of course sir.” She nodded to a group that stood beside a enpice. “The Tumble Town representatives.”

“Thanks.” Pix walked over to the group. “Lyara, did you get any of those books we found translated?”

“I got two of them done. If the weather is clear, I expect to get another two done tomorrow.” The enpice said. She nodded to the group next to her. “This is Mayor Ga’maar of Tumble Town, Sheriff Bladestripe, and their entourage.”

Pix bowed to the enpeice male. “Welcome to our excavation. I’m Pix Rifts. You’ve met my scribe Lyara, and my assistant Zloy. Would you like some tea?”

“We would be honored to join you.” Ga’maar answered. “I’m glad to see the Ancient Capital filled with life again. You’re hoping to restore parts of it?”

“Yes. I understand that this was once a great kingdom for Emp’eer and I wish to record its history.” Pix poured from a copper kettle. “What happened here? Could it have been avoided? Who were the rulers of this place? Were they good rulers or were they careless in their reign? There is much to learn from the past.”

Ga’maar nodded to the wolg next to him. “Sheriff Bladestripe knows some of the more recent history of this place. There are several packs in the area that can link their line directly to the Capital.”

Bladestripe snorted and flicked his ears at the watcher. “I am Bladestripe, of the Stripe Pack. My pack serves as guardians for the miners of the land. There was one pack, who dwelt here at the Capital, but they are gone now.”

Pix blinked, curious. “What happened to them? A drought? Loss of game?”

“No. Betrayal from their brother.” Bladestripe growled. “One of them left the pack, long ago, and has taken over a great pack among the stars. He received word from one of your kind that he would be slain by one of his kin, and returned here with his warriors. They wiped out the entire Ren Pack. There are no survivors.”

Pix blinked. “I’m sorry to hear that. None at all?”

“No.” Bladestrip’s voice left no room for debate. 

“I see. Thank you for telling me. Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?”

Mayor Ga’maar answered. “Unfortunately, I have obligations back home. Perhaps another time, you and your group would be able to join us in Tumble Town. We have the Founders Day Festival coming up in a month. I noticed you have quite the load of young with you. Perhaps they would enjoy joining us.”

Pix agreed. “I will talk with the crew and get back to you. It sounds like a wonderful day.” He walked the mayor and sheriff to their pod. “I hope to see you folks again soon.”

“As do we.” Bladestripe answered. He glanced around and growled. “Bobpaw! Get over here!”

A rusty-colored juvenile wolg scrambled over. “I’m here, I’m here. No need to get your tail in a knot.” He gave the older male a sleepy smile. “I found some poppies growin' over by the old alchemy shop. They smell so nice…” He yawned.

“Get in.” Bladestripe growled. “What have I told you about wandering off? Do it again, and you’re staying home next time.”

Bobpaw gave a lazy salute. “I hear you boss. No wandering.” He pulled himself into the pod and curled up on a seat.

Pix nodded to the two adults. “Safe travels to you.”

“And to you.” Ga’meer climbed in and Bladestripe closed the door. The pod lifted up and slid over the old road.

Pix rejoined his crew, collecting a plate from the cooks. The soft sound of chatter and laughter drifted into the air like the smoke of their campfires and faded into the darkening skies.

“Come on, Dad. Tell us a story.” David called out from his group of friends. 

“Yah!” A raycon called out. The others began cheering as well. “Story! Story! Story!”

Pix hummed and took a sip of his tea. “A story huh? What kind of story?”

“A true one!”

“A made up one!”

“How come you can see the past?”

Pix looked at the young flitter who had asked the question. “How come I see the past huh?”

The flitter’s friend, a quick-pawed fenlen, swatted at her. “Because he’s a watcher, that’s how.”

The flitter flicked her wings back. “But why do Watchers see the past, and not other people?”

“Well…” Pix took a deep sip from his canteen. He glanced around as the crew gathered close. Maria's purple eyes were locked on him as the Indarian prepared to memorize his words to share with the rest of her people. “Well… when the Galaxy was still young and the Door had not yet been opened, before the sky was filled with wings and when the seas were empty and bare, the Lady Created. She formed the worlds and the stars, making the species and races to inhabit them. And some races, She Blessed.

"The Watchers, She Blessed with the ability See. All that has been, all that could be, they Saw. To the Voidwalkers She gave the ability to Shift from one form to another. To walk among the other races and Know them. To the Indarians, She gave the ability to travel in the space between Words and Worlds. To the Avon, She gave the Wrath of a Patient Soul. And to the Homi’sapi, She gifted the ability to Change Fate.

"These gifts were not given without price, for nothing the Lady does is free. The Watchers were charged with bringing knowledge to the rest of the galaxy. To warn of what will happen if the path is followed to its conclusion. To make the mistakes of the Past Known. The Voidwalkers risk the loss of Self. For when you can take on any skin, with any face, the True Self can become lost and even forgotten. For the Indarians, the most common element, needed by almost every race, became deadly, able to consume them alive. When the Avorns kill, they become tainted, stained in a way that drives them away from their own kind. Into madness and often death.

As for the Homi’sapi well… There is a reason why no mortal remembers their name.”

“What happened to them?” the flitter asked.

Pix shrugged. “I’m not sure. I only see the signs of them in the oldest ruins of the oldest planets. Sometimes even I wonder if they are real.”

The fenlen’s dark eyes were wide. “Did they kill themselves?”

Pix sighed. “Maybe. It would explain the state of ruin.”

“What happens if the Watchers don’t give their warnings?” David asked. He clung to Pix’s hand.

The watcher shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Is that why you work so hard here?” The flitter asked. “To not get in trouble with the Lady?”

Pix looked at her. “That’s part of it, yes. But the main reason is I just enjoy doing this. I love being out in the field, uncovering the secrets that have been lost to time and letting others know about them.” He finished his tea and dumped the dregs into the fire. “Now off to your beds. It's getting late and we have work tomorrow.”

The young whined and grumbled as they made their way to their various sleeping spots. David settled into his bed in Pix’s tent. He yawned and snagged his father’s hand. “Will you stay with me?”

Pix blinked his eye in surprise. “If you want.” He settled next to the ka’pour. “What’s wrong?”

“The Lady isn’t going to kill you off?”

“No.” Pix ran his hand over his son’s head. “The Lady isn’t going to kill me off. I do the work she assigned my people to do. She wouldn’t kill someone who is doing what they're supposed to do. Besides, I got you. She knows if she gets rid of me, she’d have to take care of you herself. And you’re too much trouble for her to care for.”

David giggled sleepily. He pressed the watcher’s hand in his own hand. “I’ll never leave you then. Gott- aaahhhhnnn Gotta keep you safe from her.”

Pix smiled. “I’ll rely on you for that.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead against the ka’pour’s head. “I love you David.”
“Love you too Dad.”

--

Chapter Text

Draw close, little indarlings, and listen to my tale.

Back when the Sky was Filled with Wings, there was a Roc. A great Roc, with wings of scarlet and ruby. He was called Benihime: The Crimson Prince. Benihime ruled his flock and led them in war and peace; in times of plenty and times of want. But every Roc needs a Roca, one to fly alongside him and guide his flock. He courted every female within his flock, but none were able to fill the space in his heart. So he sought the wisdom of a Pica, a Magic One.

The Pica told Benihime that his eggmate was not within his flock, but without. 

“Fly into the rising sun for twenty days and nights. Cross the Empty Sea and find the Pale Mountains. Dive into their heart, and challenge the Violet Queen that lives within. She will tell you what your Eggmate looks like.”

So Benihime started out across the Empty Sea. He flew, riding the thermals and winds that blew over the empty spaces between the lands. For ten days and nights, he flew. After ten days and nights of flying, he found himself on a small island, floating in the void, and on that island, he found a tree.

Benihime settled in that tree, and fell into a deep sleep. In his sleep, Benihime dreamed a dream. In his dream, he saw the night sky turn black, a creature so great, it blocked out the moon and stars. He felt the air turn dead before it burst into flames. 

Benihime rose with the morning sun, knowing that if he were to fight the Violet Queen he would die. But to not fight her, would mean giving up on his own Queen. So he flew again, for another ten days and nights.

On the dawn of the twenty-second day since he had left the Pica, the Pale Mountains sprouted out of the void fog. Benihime circled the mountains, flying under the landmass and riding the thermals that grew from the bare peaks. And then he heard it: from deep within the mountains, a roar shook the island. From out of the center, a beast flew. Scaled skin glittered like black gold; leathery wings covered the sky; flames dripped from the open maw, like flakes of gold and copper that flashed in the morning sun.

Benihime hid himself from this Golden King and slowly made his way into the heart of the Pale Mountains. In a cave, deep underground, he found Her:

The Violet Queen slept on her clutch, guarding her eggs as her Mate sought food. Perhaps she heard the ruffle of feathers; perhaps she caught the scent of a stranger; perhaps she sensed something in the dark cave. But She woke and called her challenge.

“Who dares intrude on my cave?!”

Benihime stepped forward and bowed. “I give you greetings, great one. I am Benihime, king of the Skyheart Flock. I was told to speak to the Violet Queen, for she would knew the one I seek.”

“Why should I help you? Me and Mine are far mightier than you. What can you do for us ?”
Benihime thought. How could he help such a large predator? What could he trade for the knowledge he sought. 

“I… don’t know. But surely there is something you want. You are so big, Great Queen. Perhaps there is something somewhere that you and your mate cannot reach? Or there is someone you wish to speak to, but who will not speak to you because you frighten them? Or there is some pest, a small animal that is causing problems for you, but is too small and fast for you to eliminate?”

The Violet Queen thought about his offer. She thought and thought and nodded. “There is one thing you could do…” She brought Benihime close and pointed. “Do you see that crack? One of my eggs has fallen down there and we are unable to retrieve it. Find my egg. Bring it back. And I will tell you what you seek.”

Benihime looked down that crack that reached deep into the landmass. It was dark. It was small. He wouldn’t be able to use his wings at all. He looked at the nest, and the fourteen eggs that lay between the Queen’s claws. He looked back at the crack.

“It would be my greatest honor to reunite a skyhawk with her egg.”

Benihime started down the crack. It was long and dark, with many twists and turns. Many times he found the only way through was to press his wings close and squeeze through. Oftentimes, the rough stone surface scraped him, tearing his robes and cutting his skin. Deeper and deeper he went, until he came to a cave. It was a large cave, so big that he couldn’t see the roof in the flickering light of his torch. It was in this cave that he found the remains of the egg.

Broken, black shell pieces littered the stones. He lowered his torch and examined them. Clawmarks marred the black fragments. Blood speckled the stones. Something clicked in the shadows.

Benihime swung his torch and hissed at the shadows. The creature hissed back. Benihime squinted, trying to pick out the Pale One against the matching pale stones. The creature scurried further back into the crevice it had claimed and Benihime turned away. Whatever it was, it was too small to have attacked the egg. It must have been attracted by the smell of blood. 

From a gap in the far wall, something scraped the stone. Benihime turned and swung his torch to it. It took everything he had to not drop it.

The Cockatrice loomed over him, far bigger than any he had seen before. One of its wings hung down in an awkward angle. Blood matted its green feathers. Something had attacked it, and fairly recently.

The cockatrice locked its eyes onto Benihime and he swung his wing out, blocking its petrifying gaze. He drew his sword and circled the cavern. The cockatrice darted its head forward and snapped its beak. Benihime swung his sword. It clattered against the beak and the vibrations almost made him drop the weapon. The cockatrice screeched at him. The sound echoed and reverberated against the pale rock. Benihime stumbled back and pressed his hands against his ears. His earfeathers flattened in alarm. The cocatrice lunged forward.

Something pale shot past Benihime and screeched as it slammed into the cocatrice’s neck. Tiny claws tore into the feathers and tiny fangs sank into the flesh. Benihime staggered back to his talons and struck with his sword. The blade pierced into the animal’s good wing. The cockatrice screamed and slammed its wing opened. The limb slammed into Benihime and sent him crashing into the wall. Pain shot across his shoulders. He stumbled forward and swung his blade. The cockatrice clawed at its neck, trying to dislodge the creature clinging to it. Benihime ducked and stabbed at the animal’s chest. The blade slid through the feathers and Benihime felt the heart rupture upon its tip. The cockatrice shuddered and collapsed.

Benihime staggered back and dropped to the ground himself. He gasped for air and let his sword fall to the ground. The pale creature dislodged zerself from the cocatrice and bit at it again. Benihime blinked at it in the flickering torchlight. It looked like the Violet Queen. Tiny, and the wrong color, but otherwise… The thing turned to him and sniffed at his talon.

“Hey there. You were a big help to me. How did you get down here?” Benihime reached out and carefully stroked the pale head. “How did that thing get down here?” He looked at the cocatrice. The tiny creature looked too. It hissed. “Yah, not a very friendly one was it? I don’t think I’ve ever seen one so big. We usually butcher them before they get that size.” He sighed and groaned. “What do you think about getting out of here? I could see the sky again.” He slowly stood and reached down to pick up a piece of shell. “The Queen will not be happy. Maybe I can tell her from above. Or when the gold one is gone?”

The Pale One climbed to his chest. Benihime wrapped an arm around zer and began to make his way back to the Violet Queen’s nest. The journey up was more difficult than the way down, but Benihime somehow managed. He climbed and climbed with the Pale One always at his side. When the torch burned out, they used the lichen that grew in the darkness, using the faint glow it produced to guide their way.

Finally, they made it to the Queen’s cave.

Like before, the Violet Queen was sleeping. Her great wings covered her clutch and the Golden King guarded the entrance. He turned at the sound of Benihime emerging from the crack and growled. 

Benihime froze at the sound.

The Queen woke and blinked at him. “You have returned.” Her voice was softer than before.

“I have.” Benihime answered.

“Have you brought me my egg?”

“I beg your forgiveness, Great Lady, and pray for your mercy. I found your egg. I found the cockatrice that broke its shell and ate the hatchling inside. I brought both a piece of the shell and the cockatrice’s claw for you to see for yourself.”

The Golden King rumbled. “Impossible. A cockatrice could not break the shell of my young.”
“ Mi amor, tranquilo. No despiertes a los niños.”

“Lo siento .” He nuzzled his Queen. “But the fact remains. Nothing could break the shell. It is impossible.”

“I have the shell here.” Benihime held it out. “And the cockatrice was far bigger than any I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how it survived below, but it must have eaten your egg.”

The Queen leaned close to him and sniffed the shell. She flipped it under her claw. “Oh?” She narrowed her eyes and focused behind Benihime. “Ohhh. Hola piqueño. ¿Te encontre? Ven conmigo y tus hermanos. Amor, mio mira.”

The Pale One peeked out from behind Benihime’s wing and scrambled forward. Ze chirped at the Queen, and she moved a wing. Underneath, fourteen newts, scales pale as the stone, curled in sleep. The Pale One carefully stepped into the pile and found a spot. Ze circled and nuzzled into the pile. The Queen lowered her wing again and turned to Benihime.

“You found my newt. You protected him from danger and brought him back to me. Tell me your request.”

Benihime bowed. “I was told that you would know how to find the one who would be my eggmate. Who would rule the Flock with me and guide our young through the skies.”

The Violet Queen and the Golden King looked at each other. He nodded to her. She turned to Benihime. “I saw one of your kind once, flying in the night. Her wings blended into the stars, and her hair was like the moon. It was south of here, by the Ruby Desert. Speak with the indarians there. I’m sure they would know where she roosts.”

Benihime bowed. “I give you my thanks, Lady. May your wings never falter and your young grow strong.”

“May you find your light.” The Golden King answered. “When you find her, return to us. We shall see if she is worth the effort you seem to be putting into finding her.”

“I would be honored to do so.” Benihime left the cave and took to the sky. He turned and began the next stage of his journey. 

To the Ruby Desert.

So we Hear that We might Remember

Chapter Text

Born of flame and fallen foes and molten stone combining

This burning force, both foul and fair, has a glowing heart worth finding

So cut through the Stone, black and cold

Strike for blood and strike for gold

See the beauty bright and bold

Split the stones apart

And find the glowing heart

Brennen! Woah! Watch your step! Let it flow!

Brennen! Woah! Watch your step! Let it flow!

Beautiful, Molten, Dangerous red

Lava has a magic that must be fed

Brighter than one, brighter than ten, brighter than a hundred elds!

Brennen! 

Born of flame and fallen friends and molten stone combining

This burning force, both foul and fair, has a glowing heart worth finding

Cut through the stone, black and cold

Strike for blood and strike for gold

There’s beauty and danger untold

Split the stones apart

Beware the glowing heart

Chapter Text

Stiller Fels moved carefully through the halls of the Bloody Ax’s hideout. Ahead of the piptin, a spindler scurried along the ceiling, looking for traps. Behind him, a kri’sal held zer hammer at the ready. Other groups stalked the halls, hunting the Axs. It wasn’t often the Fags of 2b2t agreed to work together, but the Bloody Axs had managed to do the impossible.

A clicking signaled the spindler coming back. Fels looked up at him. “Found something, Pel’lec?”

“There’s a bunch of bodies up ahead.” Pel’lec reported. “It looks like something tore them apart.”

Fels took a deep breath, his piptin nose twitching as it sorted through the scents. Pel’lec… Cromecrusher… blood… corpses… something… alive? He took another big sniff. The strange scent came again, stained with blood… Fels blinked. No w… “Get down!” He slammed Crusher to the ground. Pel’lec screeched as a form shot out of the shadows and latched onto him. The smell of the spindler’s acidic blood filled the air. He fell to the ground, legs curling in on himself. The creature dropped down and snarled.

Crusher shoved Fels off zer and rolled to zer feet. The kri’sal blinked at the creature and swore. “Fuck! It’s a hargran!”

Fels grunted and eyed the hargran. It was thin, most likely starved by the Axes. An iron collar with a broken chain dangled from its neck. It clutched a dagger in its fist. The other hand hung limp.

“Crusher. Put the hammer away. You’ll hurt zer.”

“You better believe I’ll hurt it. It’s a fucking hargran. I’m going to crush it into mush.”

“No you’re not. We’re going to catch zer and get zer out of here.”

The kri’sal’s scales flashed in disbelief. “You want to catch it?!”

“Ze’s scared. Ze has no idea what’s going on. You can’t kill something because it’s scared.”

“It’s scared?! Hargrans don’t get scared Fels!”

“Everything gets scared. If it’s alive, it gets scared. Get ready.” Fels squinted at the hargran. Ze hissed and charged. Ze swiped with the blade, and Fels slid sideways. He caught the arm and pivoted, slamming the hargran to the floor. The dagger clattered against the stones. “See? Not that-”

The hargran screamed and rolled. Zer legs swept around and knocked Fels hoofs out from under him. He crashed to the ground.

Shit. Shit shit shit .

Fels scrambled up and grabbed the dagger. Crusher rushed forward. Zer hammer swung down. The hargran danced back and the hammer crashed into the stone tiles. Fels swore and charged. The hargran screeched and turned, flying down the hall.

Suddenly ze froze.

Fels gasped for air. What… something glinted in the flickering torchlight. He leaned close. The hargran screeched and thrashed against the threads holding him in place. Fels began to chuff in the low laugh of his people.

“What?” Crusher’s scales flickered with uncertainty. “Is it dying?”

“No… Ze’s not dead. You’re not dead, either, are you Pel’lec?”

A skittering from overhead and Pel’lec dropped out of the shadows. A bag on his chest dripped blue blood. The spindler flicked his fangs at them. “I didn’t live long enough to become a midfag only to let a hargran get the jump on me.”

“Can you string it up?” Crusher asked.

“We want zer alive.” Fels added.

Pel’lec sighed. “Yah, give me a minute.” He skittered around the hissing hargran, wrapping it in his threads. Soon only the dark eyes were the only part visible. Pel’lec snipped the ends free and tucked them in. “Here you go. One hargran ready for delivery.”

“Thanks.” Fels scooped the bundle up. “Let’s get zer out of here.”

--

Outside the fags were gathered in groups. Several were hauling the bodies of the dead Axes into a pile for burning.  The few survivors, all with iron collars around their necks and bodies thin and lean from hunger and abuse, were gathered in one spot, with the older fags guarding them.

These slaves knew the score. They’d cause no problems if it meant they had a chance to survive. Maybe even get free if their new master was generous enough.

The doors of the Blood Ax hideout were thrown to the ground, leaving the entrance open. It would be abandoned until a new group of fags found it and made it their own. The fags here today had their own homes to guard and defend. 

Crusher split off, heading to the fags guarding the pile of loot. Pel’lec scurried after zer. A visunt lumbered over to Fels. “Fels! Find anything good?”

“In a manner.” Fels patted his prize. “The Axes got themselves a hargran from Void only knows. I don’t think anyone wants zer?”

The visunt jerked away. “A hargarn?!”

“I’ll take care of zer. Looks like ze is responsible for some of the bodies in there. Get me a bag of newfag supplies and I’ll consider myself paid in full.”

“You’re insane.” The visunt looked over the loot guards. “Andre! Get me a newfag bag!”

A rebouter bounced over. “Here ya go, Zerel.” His droopy ears twitched. “What the hell do ya got, piptin?”

Fels flashed his tusks as he turned away. “Just my new hargran!”

--

An hour from the Bloody Ax’s, a river cut through the land. The steep banks reached down beneath the water… except for where it bent towards the south. A lonely oak fought for life on the sandy bar, the roots half-exposed. 

Fels pawed the soft sand of the riverbank with his hoof, looking for traps that any fags might have buried. Finding nothing, he placed his prize on the sand. He pulled out a knife and slit the spindler silk open.

The hargran hissed at him and wriggled against the bindings. His left arm hung awkwardly. Broken..? No… Dislocated at the shoulder. That had to hurt.

Ok… Best get it back in place before letting the hargran loose.

Fels rolled the hargran onto its chest and carefully cut the injured arm free. The hargran snarled and yelped. Fels ran his hands over the shoulder, feeling the bone. It wasn’t really different from the piptin skeleton. Popping it back in shouldn’t be hard… just had to find the right angle… 

The hargran screamed and fought as Fels worked the arm into place. Ze thrashed wildly under the piptin, but ze wasn't able to throw the adult off. Fels shoved and felt the arm sink into place. The hargran wailed. Ze shuddered and went limp.

“There we go.” Fels murmured. “Let’s get you cleaned up yah?” He cut the remains of the web off of zer and looked the hargran over in the bright sun.

He was young, reaching to Fels shoulders. Lean limbs and boney frame suggested a lack of food. Scars crossed the arms, some fresher than others. The hair was too filthy to decern, hanging in tangles from his scalp. Fels could almost feel the bugs that were probably crawling through the locks. His blue eyes glared at Fels. He peeled his lips back to show his teeth.

Fels grunted. “Alright; let’s get rid of all those tangles.” He grabbed the hargran’s head, intending to cut his hair. The hargran yowled and swung at Fels. His hand snagged the piptin’s tusk and he pulled. Fels yelled as his head was dragged close to the hargran’s head. 

“Fuck!” Fels jerked away. He grabbed some silk. Looks like I’ll be needing this after all. The hargran thrashed wildly at the sight of the bindings, but was unable to break free of the piptin’s grip. Fels bound his hands in the front. It would give him more maneuverability if necessary, and he could even get loose, if he was determined enough.

Fels tied the hargran to the small trees that, like the residents of 2B2T, refused to die out. With zer hands bound up to a branch, Fels was able to take his knife and work on the hargran’s head. The hargran snarled and wriggled, but froze when Fels flashed the blade close to the zer face. The hargran calmed as Fels worked his way around the head. 

The piptin wrinkled his snout at the tiny bugs that fled his knife, keeping up a constant commentary. “There we go. That feels better doesn’t it? All those nasty bugs gone, all that itching done… It’s a pain to take care of lots of hair or fur here. I personally keep my head shaved, so I don’t have to worry about it. Once in the morning, and again in the evening. No hair means no bugs. No bugs means no itching or disease. You won’t believe the number of people I’ve seen die off to something as stupid as lice and fleas. You’re hunting a rival faction, and you start scratching, and the next thing you know there’s an arrow in your chest and a blade coming for your head.” Fels turned the head, looking it over for stray hair. “There we go. All done.” He untied the hargran from the tree and pulled him to the river. “That's better isn't it?” 

The hargran growled. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yah? You are a mess.” He picked the hargran up by the collar and dropped him in the water. The youth yelped and floundered. Fels started scrubbing him, using sand from the riverbed. The hargran snarled and snapped, but he couldn’t get around the fully grown piptin.

“Yes, yes. I know.” Fels grumbled. “You don’t like washes. It’s awful. Cold water is just the worst. But the nearest lava pool is over an hour away, and some elds claimed it last week. Not that they’d give me trouble, but I’m not an oldfag for nothing. I know better than to invite trouble I don’t need. Better a cold bath alive than a hot bath dead.” He hulled the hargran out of the water. He stood on the river bank, looking like a drowned krat. Fels pulled out the blanket from the bag and started drying him off. “Next goal is to get food. We’ve got some survival tack, but it’s better to save those for an emergency. It‘s meant to last forever, while anything you find here will only keep for a few days. I know where we can get some food.” He grunted. “I remember my first month, I only found rotten meat and arane eyes to eat. I had indigestion for so long. But it taught me that good food is a blessing, and to eat whatever you can find. Picky eaters don’t survive.” Fels grabbed the lead and started along the river. He kept a steady stream of chatter as he led the hargran through the lands. He pointed out ruins and craters, recounting the wars that destroyed them. He spoke of how to find good water and safe food. How to trade and how to know if you were going to get stabbed in the back. 2B2T was dangerous and survival was for the strong, the cunning, the lucky.

--

The months passed slowly, with Fels guiding the hargran on how to survive the madness that was 2B2T. The hargran, who Fels named Zell’vet, never said a word, growling and hissing his displeasure at the piptin. Once, Fels caught him doing a rumble, similar to Fel’s own pleased roll. Or perhaps a krat purr would be a closer sound…

Zell’vet was very krat-like, climbing whenever the opportunity presented itself and moving through the dark with nocturnal confidence. Fels himself was pretty good at moving in the dark, but this guy took it to a whole other level. And he was so silent: not just with his vocals. He moved like the predator he was. He stalked among the trees and used the knives he found somewhere with only a few pointers from Fels. 

The language, on the other hand… Fels had no idea how much Zell’vet understood. He learned his name quick enough; the words Food, Water, Stay and Danger. He recognized the difference between allies and enemies. He picked up on Fel’s non-verbal expressions in a matter of days. He understood that everyone feared him and made use of it, growling and hissing at perceived threats, and backing off from people Fels had to talk with.

But he never said a word…

--

They were standing outside of one of the somewhat peaceful groups, trading for supplies. The residents, like everyone else here, drew their weapons as Fels approached the walls. They were new, having sprung up in the few months it had been since Fels had wandered this way. A sign over the gate named them Endurance. A midfag wolg named Negi met Fels outside. 

“Fels.”

“Negi.” Fels nodded to the wolg. “Got anything worthwhile?”

“Perhaps.” Zorg glanced at Zell’vet. “Still got that thing with you?”

“Hasn't killed me yet.”

Zell’vet eyed the il’gear that stood next to Negi. She had her crossbow pointed at the hargran. Fels knew it was a useless challenge. If he felt like it, Zell’vit could sink his blade into her neck before she could pull the trigger. Luckily, Zell’vit rarely made the first move. He only attacked in response to others' aggression.

Negi growled. “What do you got to trade?”

Fels showed his tusks. “Cords to an abandoned base. Looks like a meinsal cleared out the residents. Tons of supplies for only a little work.”

Negi’s tail wagged at the prospect. “A meinsal? Those are pretty dangerous…”

Fels shrugged. “I guess I can ask the Blood Fangs if they would be interested. It's a bit out of our way but…”

Negi growled. “What do you want?”

“A week's worth of tack for two and anything you know about Pyrobyte.”

“I can get you the food, but Pyrobyte? I thought he died three years ago.”

“Dercof says he saw the guy last year by the Fields of Silence.”

“I haven't heard anything… hold on.” Negi turned to the il’gear. “Has Jersker left yet?”

“Don't think so, Sir.”

“Get him. And tell Jebcet I want a week's supplies for two.”

The il’gear slipped back into the fort. After a few minutes, a skilly exited the gate and joined them. 

“This better be important, Negi.” He grumbled. 

“It is.” The wolg nodded to Fels. “Jersker was by the Fields of Silence last month. If your guy was there, he would have seen him.”

Fels nodded to the lean male. “Hey. I'm looking for Pyrobyte. Last I heard he was by the Fields of Silence. You see anything that could point us in the right direction?”

Jersker clicked his plates. “Pyrobyte huh? I didn't see anyone, but I do remember tracks. Could have been him.” The skilly nodded. “Yes, it could have been…”

“Nice.” 

“Hold on now. Are you any good at finding people who want to be hidden? Are you a Base Hunter?”

Fels shrugged. “I’m good enough.”

“Oh no…” Jersker clacked his plates. “Maybe if you’re looking for a newfag, maybe even a midfag. But you’re looking for Pyrobyte. If he’s still kicking, then his base won’t be easy to find. No one’s ever found him unless he wants you to. You’ll need an expert.”

Fels snorted. “And you’re that expert?”
“I am.”

Fels looked the skelly over. He stood steady, bow slung over his shoulder, bag on his back. “Fine. You got your stuff? Good. Zell’vit!” Fels turned to the hargran. “Time to go!”

Zell'vit blinked at him and trotted over to his side. 

Jersker’s bow jumped into his hand, arrow ready to fire. “You got a hargran?! Are you out of your mind?!”

“Yep. Get used to him. If you don’t like it, then leave. He’s not an animal. He just doesn't speak Galactic.”

Zell’vit hissed at the skilly before turning to Fels. Fels nodded. “Yes. This is Jersker. He's joining us. Be nice.”

Zell'vit snorted and turned away.

They started off, Zell’vit taking scout, Fels and Jersker trailing behind. Two hours later, Fels called a break.

“Zell’vit!” 

The hargran came trotting over.

“Water. See if you can find us some water.” Fels could smell some, probably on the other side of the horizon, but it was important to make the hargan feel like he was helping. And it would get Jersker to relax. The skilly had managed to keep up with their steady pacing, but he was beginning to tire.

Zell’vit took off, moving at a run, now that he didn’t need to keep close to Fels. Jersker gaped at the retreating form.

“How does he still have the energy to run?”

Fels laughed. “ It’s pretty terrifying sometimes. They just… don’t stop.” He pointed the direction Zell’vit had gone. “There’s a pool about ten minutes that way. We can stop and catch our breath.”

“Good.” Jersker shrugged his pack higher on his back. “You sound like you’ve dealt with them before.”

Fels snorted. “I have. One even saved my life when I first arrived here. That was… what, ten, fifteen years ago?” He grunted. “I don’t remember. But the only reason I’m alive today is because of one of his kind. If I can pass that on to another, then I will. Zell’vet isn’t savage. No more than anyone else.”

“That would be everyone. Why else would we be sent here?”

“Better here than Pandora.”

“True enough.” Jersker agreed. “You’ve been here fifteen years? I didn’t think 2B2T had been inhabited that long.”

“It’s been almost half a century. The WRDNs just didn’t make it well known to the galaxy. When some folk got out and blew the horn on it.”

“I think I heard about that. They were some newfags weren’t they?”

“One of them. I think it was a hargran… There were some other fags too. Jarred Bones and Ty’lo, plus the hargran. I heard that the WRDNs had a huge upheaval over it. Lots of people were arrested or fired. And of course, lots of folk made good use of the chaos. Folks escaping, folks getting dumped here, folks growing their businesses. Lots of folks dying.”

“No surprise there. Only the strong or cunning survive here.”

Fels snorted. “Not really. There are hundreds of strong fags that get dumped here each span. And most of them die just as fast. Strength helps, but it isn’t the real reason. It ta-”

Zell’vit’s voice screeched out. 

Fels cleared the last hill and thundered down to the pond below. Zell’vit trashed in a pit, a tangle of brambles holding him fast. The red thorns bit into his skin and the berries on it burst at the touch, staining him with its orange juice. Fels caught the hint of sulfur and swore.

“Scorching brambles!” He approached carefully. “Zell’vit. Zell’vit you need to calm down. Listen to me. It’ll be ok. We’re getting you out. Jersker, keep watch! Someone put these brambles here. I don’t want them sneaking up on us.” 

Fels circled the pit. It reached the edge of the water. If he could dig out the edge of the hole, the water would fill in and make it easier to get the hargran untangled. Fels splashed into the water and moved into place.

“Ok Zell’vit. I’m going to dig out part of the bank and get the water in. You just relax and not fight it, ok? We’ve got this. You’ll be out in no time and we’ll let you wash off in the pond. Scorching Brambles are one of the more common traps here. They’re named for the burning sensation the berries give on the skin and mouth when broken. And the brambles are great for holding the victims, of course. There’s no cure beyond time and cleaning the berries off. You can recognize them by the black vines and orange berries. While they grown naturally in hot, dry habitats, they can survive just about anyw-”

Something grabbed the back of Fels’ chestplate and dragged him into the water. Zell’vit and Jersker’s panicked voices turned muffled as powerful arms pulled Fels deeper and deeper into the water.

Fels thrashed and twisted, trying to break free. He caught a glimpse of dark arms, speckled with glowing blue flakes. The water around him turned dark. The sunlight filtered weakly, catching bubbles of air and turning them silver. A shadow slid over his view…

He was moving faster and faster. Fels’ head broke the surface and Zell’vit dragged him to the shore. Jersker’s bow sang death as he shot at the phanton behind them. The aquatic female fled to deeper water.

Fels sputtered and gasped as Zell’vit dragged him to shore. Fels shoved him away and coughed up the rest of the water from his lungs. Jersker backed up to him. He eyed Zell’vit uneasily as the youth heaved Fels to his feet. “Come on. Let's get out of here before ze decides to go for round two.”

Fels leaned heavily on Zell’vit and let the hargran guide him after the skilly. He blinked at the blue rope that wrapped around Zell’vit’s arm. One end had some sort of spike on it, the other dripping a thin, watery red… something… Fels heaved with laughter. “Heh heh heh. Good job Zell’vet.” He coughed. “You got the tail…”

Zell’vet hissed and tossed the tail away. The three staggered up the hill and continued their journey to the Fields of Silence.

Chapter Text

King of Dawn Murdered! Missing Princess to blame?

Tragedy has struck the kingdom of Dawn once again. King Erzan of Dawn was found dead in his chambers this week. Rumors that Gemini Slay, the younger of the twin princesses, was the last known person to see the king alive and hasn't been seen since. This comes right on the heels of the death of the older princess’ fiancé, Zornoth of Rivendell. The coronation of Gemini Thay will be held after the two month mourning period is observed.

Mini Nevada? Las Nevadas takes a gamble on a dangerous planet.

Las Nevadas has been busy this past span registering and acquiring residents for the new colony planet of MCJ-SSP-HC2-7. What could cause the Gambling Center of the Galaxy to take a risk on this level seven planet? No one who knows is talking, but there is plenty of speculation. One citizen we interviewed thought it might be a new type of game in which the players survive the planet for the chance to win big. Others say it will be a new city. One thing is known: the colonization process is far more complex and restricted than any other used to this day.

Chapter Text

Phil paced, tearing the ground with his talons. Something was wrong. He absentmindedly scratched at his face, tugging the feathers on his cheek. He flinched and looked at the black feather in his hand. He hissed and scratched the spot. In the sky, dark clouds hung low over the mountain. In Fynix a bell rang, marking the hour. 

Phil jerked to the sound.

Where were his chicks? It was going to rain. He needed to make sure his chicks were home in the nest before it began raining. Rain was bad. Rain weighed you down. Couldn’t fly easily when it rained… It had been raining when- Where Were They??

Phil stalked into the town. Feathers trailed him, unnoticed. Chicks. Chicks. Chicks.

--

Techno stepped out of the forge and looked up. The first drops of rain were beginning to fall. Eddy grunted and flicked his ears in annoyance.

“Better make sure that fool doesn’t drown himself.” The rebouter hopped off to search for his absent minded  human. Techno turned to the center of town and the ruin it circled. Michael stood looking up to where Hermes perched atop of the black frame. Techno narrowed his eyes at them

“Hermes! Does your mother know you’re up there?”

Hermes jerked and blinked at him. “M’ok. Mumma’s fine.”

“Get down before you fall. It’s going to rain. Come on.” Techno held out his arms and Hermes jumped into them. He giggled as Techno lowered him to the ground. “Get. Go find your adults.”

The boys darted off, Michael’s nose leading them to the bakery. Techno turned, intending to make his way to Hubert’s barns. Most of the cattle would be fine in the rain, but getting the chickens into their coops could be tricky. Hubert would appreciate the help.

Philza appeared down a road and cawed harshly. Techno stopped and looked at him. “Phil? What’s wrong?”

Phil chirped and keened. His blue eyes looked black. Feathers drifted to the ground around them as Phil flapped his wings. He latched onto the human’s arm and pulled.

“Phil, what’s going on? Are you ok?” Techno allowed the male to guide him to the house he had on the edge of town. As they approached the building, Tommy and Tubbo appeared, racing the rain. Phil locked onto the boys and scrambled to them. He swept his wings around them in a shower of feathers and began herding them to the house as well.

“Phil, what the fuck Phil? We’re fine. It’s only a scratch. Quit it!” Tommy spotted Techno. “Techno, what the fuck? What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure Tommy.” Techno allowed Phil to shoo them into the house. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

Tubbo pawed the floor nervously. He eyed Phil and backed up. Phil darted forward and plucked up the geet. Tubbo squirmed as the sharp claws pressed against his freshly healed skin. Phil carried him into a bedroom room where a pile of blankets and pillows sat. Tommy made a break for the door, but Phil blocked him and backed him into the nest. Techno didn’t fight the male and carefully joined the younger two. He sent a text to Kristin and shoved the com into his pocket when Phil hissed at him.

“Relax. I’m just letting some people know that we’re a bit busy yah?”

Phil clucked gently and settled between everyone, draping his wings over them protectively.

“Tech?”

“Yah Tom?”

“Is Phil sick? Are we going to get sick?”

“I don’t think so. He’s… just moody?”

“How long will he be like this?”

“I don’t know Tom. I messaged Kristin. She would know.”

“She better.” Tommy yawned. “She better get here quick.”

“She’ll get her when she can. Take a nap, and when you wake up, we’ll hopefully have answers.” Techno listened as Tommy relaxed and his breathing slowed. Within five minutes, the boy was asleep. Techno yawned himself and tried to relax. Rain tapped the roof in a gentle tempo.

“Do do do dodo do do do da, de de dade da da da dada da.” Techno tried to remember the lyrics. Something about spring showers? Drip drip drop something? It was a bright, tinkling song…

The sound of an opening door interrupted his musings. Ranboo’s voice called out and Phil’s head jerked up.

“In here.” Techno eyed Phil as the male focused on the sounds of people. He reached up and clamped around the male, pinning the wings between them. Phil hissed and wriggled, shedding feathers in his struggles. Michael darted into the room and face planted into a pillow. Phil chirped in alarm and Techno let him go. Phil scooped up the squealer and cooed in concern. Michael grinned up at the male. He squirmed loose and burrowed into the bedding, rolling in the scents of family.

Kristin entered and dropped Raven down into the pile. Phil jumped on her, trilling and cuddling the baby. Kristin gave Philza a critical eye before her feathers lifted in a smile. “Oh Phil! You should have told us.”

“What is it?” Techno asked.

“He’s molting. Have you not seen him do it before?”

Techno made a face. “I remember him being fussy once, all scratchy and clingy.” Techno looked around. “He kept dropping feathers and having to clean up. I think he disappeared for a few days at one point.”

Phil chirped and tickled Raven. Kristin chirped back and Phil visibly brightened. He trilled back and snuggled Raven. “He’s going to be broody for a few days while he grows new feathers. I hope you have no plans this week.”

Techno sighed. “Nothing important.”

“Good.” Kristin retreated from the room. “I’ll let people know what’s going on. And make sure everyone’s fed. Once you’re in the Nest, you don’t leave it.”

“Oh come on.”

“Sorry love. You’re his chick. That means you’re who he broods over. Which means he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in the nest. I wouldn’t challenge him on it if I were you.”

Techno flopped back onto the bed. Days. Void take it!

--

Philza yawned and stretched. Something pressed against his side and he looked down to find his whole nest sleeping with him. Techno was sprawled on his back with Raven on his chest in a matching sprawl. Tommy lay with his back against the man’s side, arms wrapped around Tubbo. On Phil’s other side, Ranboo curled around Michael. The squealer’s nose twitched in his sleep.

Chicks! Nest! Safe warm… Phil’s brain buzzed happily. He carefully extracted himself and made his way into the main room. Something was cooking in the oven and a pot bubbled on the stove. Movement out of the corner of his eye drew him up short and he found himself looking at his reflection in the mirror. 

He stared.

Dusty pale green feathers hugged his face, and a deeper green draped his back. Green as forest growth. And not just any growth, but the old kind, where ferns pale tendrils glow against the deep loam and the thick, rich canopy turns the air hazy and dim. He slowly spread his wings out and turned, examining the plumage. Rich dark green with lighter diamond-shapes spread across the wings. He closed them and the diamonds settled together into a pair of huge eye-spots. 

Oh. 

What colors were they? Kristin’s question from months ago echoed in his head.

He had forgotten. How? How could he have ever forgotten? How could he forget how his wings had betrayed him, branding him as his grandfather’s heir? How he had been forced from his nest in the Shrubs and into the high eries? 

Where was his wingshawl? He needed… 

Someone entered the room and he turned. Kristin smiled her feathers at him.

“Good morning.”

Phil’s wings wrapped around him. “Kristin!” He blinked at her. Why was she here? Had she seen? “Have you seen my wingshawl? I need it. I-” He ran a claw through his coverlets. The green feathers were definitely real. They were there. Maybe he could dye them? Techno dyed his hair. Feathers weren’t so different right? It-

“Why would you want to dye them?” Kristin’s voice was aghast. She held a wingshawl. “Phil, your feathers are beautiful. And they fit you better than the loneliness.”

Phil blinked at her. He had said that outloud? He swept the shawl over his back and relaxed as the green vanished from sight. “No. They’re not. They’re like… They’re like His. ”

“Wa’za-”

“Is Dead. Ra’za is Dead, may his star burn out.”

Kristin gasped. “Phil! You don’t mean that. Ra’za might not have been a good Roc but Wa’za could have been. The people favored him.”

Phil hissed. “The people didn’t matter. The black-hoods were the ones he needed. And they never let him forget his nest. You know they called him the Pauper Prince?”

“I didn’t.”

“Of course not.” Phil’s talons bit into the carpeted floor as he paced the room. “They couldn’t afford to let the rabble know their disgust. No, hidden death was the way to go. Make it look like an accident. Or even better, have the day’gorn kill him.” He cackled. “But they couldn’t. Twenty two, Kristin. Twenty-two day’gorn single-clawed. And dozens more alongside skyhawks. They just couldn’t kill him.”

“And what did kill him then?”

“The same as everyone else. The battle of Inlanas. The damage to the core. He died. He’s dead and gone. Every last one of them, gone.”

“You’re right. They’re all gone.” Kristin cooed. She spread her wings out and embraced Phil’za in them. “I’ll speak with Edouard. No one will ask about your wings. The humans don’t know. There is no reason why they should ever know.”

“Someone will tell them. I won’t… I can’t..”

“You won’t have to. They won’t make you. Just… don’t hide them. Please. Not here. You shouldn’t have to hide from your own flock.”

Phil took a deep breath. “I… I won’t. I swear to the stars. I won’t cover them here.” He forced a smile. “But I still claim the right to do so when I’m away.”

Kristin twittered. “With that pattern? I wouldn’t expect anything else.” 

Chapter Text

In Gobton, it was always dark. The inhabitants of Endil survived the blistering heat and freezing nights of the surface by avoiding both and burrowing deep underground. It was said the whole planet, small as it was, was riddled with caves and caverns, both natural and unnatural and the various inhabitants reached the billions. And it was always dark.

Dream made his way through the town to the Leaky Pipe, a bar near the Tough District. Across the Pipe, an enpeice leaned against a wall. He watched the patron that entered and exited the bar and noted each face. As Dream approached, he straightened and nodded to the man.

“Dream.”

“Punz.” Dream opened the door and the two entered the bar. 

The Leaky Pipe had once covered a great roaring river before the Toughs had moved in and shifted the noise away to the now River District. The bar owner had cobbled together a wall on one end where the pipe had caved in, added a bar against one curved wall, hung dim, blue lanterns from the ceiling and tossed down some tables and chairs.

Dream approached the bar as Punz snagged a table near a wall. He nodded to the barkeep. “One nighteye and one footloose, glittered.”

“Five emeralds.” The barkeep grabbed a pair of mugs. He filled one with a green liquid and one with a sky-blue drink. The blue one, he sprinkled with a golden powder that sparkled in the dim light. Dream dropped green stones on the counter and took the drinks. 

At the table, Punz wrinkled his nose at the blue mug. “Don’t know how you can stand that stuff. I swear, it’s just liquid sugar.”

“That’s what makes it so good.” Dream answered. “So how’s life been treating you, Punz?”

“You know how it is. Sometimes you get a good Hunt, sometimes you’re lucky to get out alive.” Punz shrugged. “Solo hunting limits what I can do, of course. But the emerald is good. You?” He sipped his drink.

“I’ve actually started doing jobs for Las Nevadas. It turns out my cousin on my mother’s side married a guy who works there. We bumped into each other when I was there for a vacation and got talking.”

“I thought you didn’t have any family.” Punz’s blue eyes seemed to glow green.

“I do.” Dream said. “I don’t like talking about it. I didn’t even know she was around. I’ve never really interacted much with that side of the family.”

“Dumb. It's important to know both sides of the family.”

“I know.” Dream growled. “What about your family? You never talk about them either.”

The door opened and a group of stone-dusted miners entered. They gathered around the bar as the barkeep started tossing drinks at them. A small figure, hidden in a dark hood, slipped past and melted into the shadows near the two.

Punz’s face darkened. “My mother dumped me with my father as soon as she could, and the less said about him, the better. What’s this I hear about you getting your Hargran Permets? Since when have you been interested in getting one of those things?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. More and more hargrans have been popping up. Having one of my own can go a long way in keeping them calm.” He lowered his voice. “You heard how Las Nevadas is colonizing a planet?”

“Yah, for some game show.”

“Let's just say that I’ve been working with the crew that makes deliveries there. Having a hargran with you can make the difference between getting your own place there and being killed the moment you step off your ship.”

Punz raised an eyebrow.

“Truth.” Dream glanced over his shoulder. “And a hargran permit is why you called me isn’t it?”

Punz grunted. “I called you because I know you’ve been Hunting Black Stars.”

“How many?”

“Less than a dozen. Ten maybe? They have two hargrans, three kauts, and a meinsal. All on their way to who knows where.”

“You have a location?”

“In the Cargo District. The buyer is supposed to arrive in the early hours tomorrow.”

“What time is it now?”

“Twenty-three seventeen.” Punz checked his com. 

“We should head back. Where are you sleeping?”

“I was going to crash in Pumpkin. It’s good enough.”

Dream snorted. “Pumpkin is barely habitable. I never understood how you can go weeks in that tiny thing. You can sleep with us tonight.”

“Hey now. Pumpkin is a great ship. Yah, she’s small, and yah, she’s barely held together, but she works. She gets me where I need to go.”

“Take it from someone who flies belts for fun: she’s a death trap waiting to happen. One wrong landing and you’re crushed.”

“She’s fine.” Punz finished his drink and stood. “I’ll prove it to you.”

Punz and Dream walked down the road. The crowds had vanished with the late hour and the empty streets, always dark this deep underground, made the city seem abandoned. If there had been a crowd, they might not have noticed the form darting between buildings. The hood hid the face of the person, and their steps, while quiet, echoed in the silent streets. Dream and Punz shared a glance and turned down an ally. Dream jumped and bounced his way between the walls to the roof of the buildings. Punz stepped into a doorway and drew his sword.

The hooded figure turned down and stopped at the entrance. The head shifted as the person looked for zer prey. Ze started down, walking almost silently in leather boots. As ze passed Punz’s hiding place, the enpeice reached out and slammed the figure against the wall.  The person struggled and struck Punz's chest. Punz pressed an armored forearm against the figure’s throat. He grabbed the person’s hood and jerked it down. A enpeice youth squirmed and clawed at Punz’s arm.

Dream dropped down and approached. “Who are you? Why are you following us?” 

“Well?” Punz demanded. He relaxed his arm to allow air. “Answer boy. Or we will assume you’re a Black Star spy. I’m sure we can find a cell you can fit in.”

The boy’s eyes widened and he jumped to answer. “I’m looking for you! You- You’re Punz son of Pengorn yah? I got something for you!”

Punz narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“It’s…” The boy glanced at Dream. “It’s personal…”

“Give it. Now.” Punz held his hand out.

“I don’t have it on me.” The boy hissed. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be here. It’s… It’s hidden. From your father.”

Punz pulled his hand back. “My father is a worthless piece of slime. You can keep it.”

“No I can’t!” The boy stepped forward. “I swore a death oath to my father to get it to you!”

Dream eyed the two. An oath made to the dying is one of the strongest oaths an enpeice can give and only death can keep them from fulfilling it.”

Punz sighed. “What’s your name kid?”

“Purpled.” The boy pressed his lips together.

“Son of?”

“Prink.”

Dream snorted. “Don’t lie, kid. If your dad is called Prink, then I’m a piptin.”

Purpled crossed his arms in aggression.

“Whatever. Purpled, Give me your com.”

Purpled hesitated.

“Give it.” Punz snatched the device and began tapping something in. “Go to the Docks and find the Pumpkin. Wait for me there. You can give me whatever it is after this Job is done.”

“How do I know you’ll be there?”

“Because I’ve sunk way too much money into that pile of bolts to abandon it now.” Punz growled. “Your choice. 

--

The Cargohouse District sat near the Docks, perched high on cliffs overlooking the rest of the city. Large buildings of lightweight wood and metals sat in neat rows along potholed roads. Dream and his crew settled where they could watch each side. Occasionally, someone would walk past the cargohouse, but none entered. The clock in the town was striking the fourth hour when a group of piptins led by a gold-tinted totani. One of the piptins knocked on the cargohouse doors and a wolg opened it to them.

“We got the buyers.” George warned. “Couldn’t get a good view for id.”

“That’s fine.” Dream answered. “We’ll find out who they are soon enough. Get ready. Sapnap, you and I deal with the crew. George and Punz, you have the buyers.”
Confirmation echoed through the coms and Dream leaped from his perch atop a building onto the cargohouse roof.

Inside the house, the totani was examining one of the hargrans. It was a male, who sat ignoring the movement around him with closed eyes. A second hargran crouched next to a wall.

The totani turned to a kri’sal. “I need younger ones. Easily trained. This one is far too old.”

“Of course Lady Caulifa. I heard how your society had lost their last hargran.” The kri’sal’s scales glittered. “You haven’t found it yet?”

“No.” Caulifa stood very still at the taunt. “There has been a confirmed sighting of it on Vaneid and we have put a bounty out. We shall have its head soon enough.”

The krat at the kri’sal side hissed. “What Hunter would go after a totani executioner? Your hargran is gone and not coming back.”

Caulifa sneered at him. “I wouldn’t expect a cowardly krat to understand how to control a hargran.”

The krat hissed. “I know how to control hargans. I’ve delivered plenty in my time.”

“And yet you couldn’t keep a single avorn. It was a avorn that killed your crew wasn’t it? Not a wolg or arrow bird?”

“Enough.” The kri’sal snapped. “Japt, go watch the doors. Lady Caulifa, would you like to look at our other merchandise?”

“I would.” Caulifa tossed her head and marched past Japt. He bared his fangs at her and turned to the door. Before he could touch the handle, it burst open and a dreamon swept into the space. Japt screeched and leapt away.

George and Punz swung their weapons and swept through the room. George stopped over the sitting human and blocked an attack. “Get back! Against the wall!”

The human at his feet jerked and pushed himself away from the fighting. His head spun and the second human called out. The male crawled over to him. His hands reached out and the second human grabbed them and pulled him close.

Dream and Sapnap dropped into the room from a window. Dream’s ax crashed into the kri’sal’s back. Sapnap swung his sword and flames swept across the room. The crew scattered, only to be met with Punz and George. George guarded the humans and the remaining merchandise. His tail pierced any who attempted to get close, and his sword’s flight always struck true. 

Punz guarded the door, ensuring no one could escape. Two enpeices and the krat charged him. One of the enpeices found himself on the wrong side of Punz’ sword. The second one received a gash on her swordarm. Punz pressed the tip against her throat. “Stand down or die.” He turned to look at the krat. “Your turn.”

Japt hissed as he backed away from the Hunters. Flames splashed his way and he bolted across the room, climbing atop a pile of crates. He hesitated, then lept, digging his claws into the wall. The window the Hunters had entered through worked both ways. The shouting of the Hunters sent him tumbling down to the ground.

“I got him!” Dream charged out after the krat. Japt fled through the streets. Dream kept hot on his tail and crashed into him several streets down. He grabbed the krat’s tail and pulled the male into his arms. Japt screamed and attacked. His claws tore into Dream’s arms and slid off his armor. One hand found his hood and caught. The sound of tearing fabric seemed to fill the air.

Japt’s fur stood on end as he saw Dream’s face. His eyes seemed to double in his head and he was running again. Dream spat something that would make Bad yell at him and scrambled after the krat. 

A scream ripped through the air. The krat clutched something tight in his claws. A voice gave it identity and Dream froze. It was a child.

“Back off.” The krat hissed. “Back off or it bleeds.”

“You better hope zer adult isn’t nearby.” Dream answered. The krat’s ears flattened in alarm.

The child began to shout. “Leme go! I want Daddy!”

“Shut up!” The krat snarled. He pressed his claw into the child’s chest. The child kicked wildly. Zer heel smashed against the krat’s knee.

The krat yowled. The child broke free and bolted away. Right towards the edge of the street. Zer scream wrenched the air as ze fell. Dream dove after zer. He grabbed zer and curled around zer. The stone shelves smashed into his back. The child in his arms whimpered. 

“Dream!” A pale shape appeared in the darkness overhead. “Dream are you alive?!”

“I’m good!” Dream called back up. “We both are.”

“I’m going to find some rope!” Punz disappeared.

Dream ran his hand over zer back. “It’s ok now. I got you. You’re going to be ok.” He looked down and blinked. The hood had fallen back to reveal a wave of golden hair and the brightest green eye Dream had ever seen peered up at him. The piptins would love her. 

“Hi there. Are you hurt?”

The girl’s lip quivered and she shook her head. “No.” She pushed herself up and Dream let her climb off him. “Who are you?”

Dream smiled at her. “My name is Dream. What’s your name?”

“Finley Brown Ga’meer. Do you know my daddy?”

“I don’t know. Who is your daddy?”

“He’s my daddy. He found me and Junior.”

“Is Junior your sibling?”

Finley frowned. “No. Junior is my brother. He’s a baby.”

Dream laughed. “And you’re a big girl, aren’t you?”

“I am!” Finley straightened. “I take care of Junior while Daddy works. He works a lot.”

“I bet he does.” Dream looked up at the cliff face. It didn’t look too difficult… He would have no problems climbing back up. But Finley… 

“Dream!” Punz’s voice called out. “Catch!” A rope dropped down to him.

“Got it!” Dream shouted back. He pulled his hood down and wrapped it around his face. He knelt down to Finley. “You want a piggy back ride?”

Punz was pacing along the road when Dream heaved himself up. He focused on Dream and frowned. “The krat got away. Sorry.” Punz processed the girl as Dream lowered her off his back. “Dream. That’s a hargran.”

“Yah, she is.” Dream looked down at her. “This is my friend Punz. Would you like to say hi to him?” She buried her face into his leg. “It’s ok. Let’s go find your daddy, huh?”
He scooped the girl into his arms and started off.

Punz followed warily. A small hargran letting Dream carry it around. With Dream’s face half-covered, and the hood on the child, they almost looked like a enpeice father with his daughter. Punz shoved the thought into the deepest part of his brain. He didn’t need to think about families and parents.

“Finley!” A bellow echoed and rolled off the buildings. The hooded head jerked and turned. Dream spoke softly to her and she nodded. She raised her head.

“DADDY! WHERE ARE YOU?!?!?”

“Finley!” A giant marched down the street. A deep blue-gray hood with a white border shadowed his head. 

“Daddy!” Finley squirmed out of Dream’s arms and ran to the man. “Daddy there was a cat-man. He was mean. But Mister Dream and Mister Punz chased him away.”

“Did they?” The hooded head tilted to glance at the Hunters. “Did you say thank you?”

Finley blinked at him and jerked. She turned and charged to Dream. He knelt down and she hugged him. “Thank you Mister Dream.”

“You’re very welcome.” Dream slipped something into her cloak pocket and ruffled her hair. “You stay close to your dad ok?”

“Ok!” She turned and grabbed onto Punz’s leg. “Thank you for chasing away the mean cat-man.” Punz stood frozen. Finley released him and darted back to her adult.

The man nodded to the two. “Thank you for saving her.”

“Part of the job.” Dream waved the words away.

Punz watched the pair walk off hand in hand. He glanced at Dream. The Hunter had an odd look in his green eyes. Dream shook himself and turned. “Come on. Time to get back to work.”

--

Back at the cargo house, a dozen or more local guards were loading the captured Stars into a shuttle. The totani buyer was standing to the side. Her scales clicked in annoyance. A guard was speaking to one of the piptins. She shook hands with the piptin and waved the group away. The totani stalked out, head high. Sapnap smoked at her.

“Remind me why they’re letting her go?” He whispered to George.

“Apperently she was here to buy some kauts. Not hargrans. Nothing wrong with buying kauts.” George answered. He scowled at the retreating group. “I’ll get their details and have Calahan take a look at them.” He straightened as one of the guards walked up.

“Hunter Ka’menos?”

“Yes.” 

“I understand your team is claiming the bounty on the traffickers?" The wolf asked.

“Yes. And we will be taking these hargrans as well. While I’m sure you would do your best, I doubt you have the necessary equipment and containment to care for them.”

“And you do?” 

“If you look at our credentials, you will see that we have permits and have handled hargrans before with no troubles. We will be taking these two as well as any other species that came from their home planet.”

“Very well. We will obtain a manifest and send any species from the hargran home planet to your ship.”

“We will be expecting them. If you don’t mind, we will go ahead and secure the hargrans in our ship now.”

“Please.” The wolg glanced at them and his ears flattened nervously. “The sooner the better.”

George turned to Sapnap. “Let’s get them out of here.” He grabbed the chain on the first human. Sapnap grabbed the second chain close to where it was bolted into the wall and heated the metal up. 

The second human watched open-mouthed as the metal began to glow and melt. “ What the fuck? ”

“ I’m pretty fire-proof. ” Sapnap answered. “ We’re going to take you two to our ship. We got food, water, and a place you can sleep. Proper bed and all. ”

“ You- I- You can understand? ”

The first human reached out and latched onto George’s arm. He froze and felt the dreamon’s rough skin. “ Um Derin? ”

“ That’s not a human Connor. That’s not a human, and they know English. ” The second human said. He explained to Sapnap. “ Connor is blind. ”

Both males blinked at the man. “ I don’t think I know that word? ” George said.

“ I can’t see .” Connor explained. “ My eyes don’t work. Never have. I can kinda see silhouette if the light is really strong and they’re directly in frount of me. ”

“ Oh. Um… ”

“ I can guide him. ” Darin said. He hurried over and placed Connor’s hand on his arm.

“ Ok. Yah that works I guess. ” George glanced at Sapnap and his spines flattened. The eld sparked at him in response. “ Let’s get you guys out of here. ”
--

Dream and Punz entered the docks and made their way through the decks of pods and BTS. As they drew close to P47, Punz’ steps slowed.

“You need to go back eventually.” Dream said.

“I know.”

“I don’t like my dad either. Like, I get it, Mom died. I miss her too. But I needed him. What did I know about newborn babies? Nothing! He didn’t-” Dream ran his hand through his hair. “You know Maria doesn’t even know him? In her eyes, he’s just a guy who sleeps in the spare room. I don’t think he ever remembered her name.”

“Sounds like shit.”

“Yah. It was.” Dream sighed. “But if something happened to him, I would want to know. How he died, if there was anyone he owed… What’s the worst that could happen? You inherit his enemies? After having nothing to do with him for how many years?” He shrugged. “If nothing else, you can sell whatever it is and make some money off of him.”

Punz sighed. “I know. I just… wasn’t expecting some kid to make a death oath over him. He’s not worth it.”

“Just talk to him. Take whatever it is. You might be surprised.” He nodded. 

Punz looked and saw the purple-clad youth sitting next to his ship. He sighed again. Dream watched as he headed down the aisle. The boy jumped up and stood stiffly. Dream turned and made his way to his own ship. George was waiting for him.

“Hey. We got them. One of them is bind ? He says he can’t see?”

“He’s blind? Ok. Good to know.” Dream said. He frowned. “I lost the krat.”

“That’s ok. We can find him again.” George’s spines flicked in concern. “You know that. Why are you so upset?”

Dream ran a hand through his hair. “He saw my face.”

Chapter Text

Far over the Ashen Mountains red

To dungeons deep, so legend said

They went away, ere break of day

To find the Lost and Claim the Dead

The Blood of Blade is great in strength

His hoof is sure, he does not faint

With heart of stone, iron in his bones

His gold shines pure, without a taint

Within his shadows a shape is seen

His step is soft, his eye is keen

Though fear be strong and road be long 

The Shadow Dancer walks serene 

Beyond the ashen mountains bright

That shines fore’er both day and night

They went away, ere break of day

To stand and make a wrong turn right

Unto the Clans the stars arrived

Blood and Death flew side by side

They sought their own, so far from home

The Shadow Guard served as their guide

Hidden deep beneath the rack

The hargrans gathered in a pack

With not to lose they had to choose

To stand, to fight, or turn their back.

Far over the seas that glow so warm

That have no shape and hold no form

We must away, ere break of day

To face and fight the growing storm

Then came the Elds and great their rage

The hargrans offered up their aid

The Raven’s ire burnt worse than fire

And all would fall upon his blade

The Kriger marched out of the gloom

The Watchers Looked and saw their doom:

By bow or flame, it was the same:

The hidden mines would be their tomb.

Far over the ashen mountains gray

Where linogs walk and striders play

We must away ere break of day

To hunt the dross and make them pay

The False Light glowed within the halls

The Smoke-Face saw and sought his fall

He tried to hide, yet still he died 

His blood burned bright upon the walls

The blood has stained the teal robes red

The life is gone, the Sight is dead

Blood filled the sky and ate the eye

His wrath is calmed; his hunger fed

Beyond the ashen mountains’ rise

Where elds do sleep and chieftains lie

They left the land to find their clan

And so they wander through the skies