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Wilbur is thirteen years old and the Crown Prince of Antarctica. He is thirteen years old and cocky, self-assured, and so very alive.
His twin is quieter, as a general rule. Techno struggles to contain the Voices, sometimes, so he’s resorted to silence. But there are days, like today, when Wilbur can persuade him to loosen up. Have some fun.
Phil wouldn’t let them leave the castle in the middle of the Antarctic winter, so instead they’re making mischief in the Great Hall. Wilbur distracts people with his charm and presence, and Techno steals something small from them. It’s harmless entertainment, especially since they always return the stuff right after.
They borrow a ring off a noble, and Wilbur’s returning it with a bow and a flourish when everything goes wrong.
He doesn’t see the knife until it’s buried between his ribs.
Wilbur chokes, crumpling to the ground as pain sears through him. It flashes hot and he screams as the knife is yanked out of his chest. He gropes for the wound, trying to apply pressure to stop the bleeding like he’d been taught, but he can’t move. He can’t move.
Phil’s face, twisted with worry, swims in his vision. Wilbur chokes on another scream as he’s lifted into his father’s lap.
He’s saying something, but between the pain and the blood rapidly soaking into his shirt, Wilbur can’t hear. His vision goes dark, and he almost welcomes it as the pain fades with it.
~~~
The Voices are quieter today.
That’s nice. Techno’s finally getting to spend some time just relaxing with Wilbur. He can tell his twin is upset by how little Techno interacts with him sometimes. Doesn’t seem to understand that it’s for Wilbur’s safety. He can’t hurt his brother if he’s not around him.
But today is different. Today, they’re playing a new game Wilbur’s come up with. Techno has his doubts about the morality of practicing pickpocketing, but then it’s not like they’re stealing. And people tend to give them indulgent smiles or hearty chuckles when they return the items. Being a prince has its benefits.
But this person, rather than a smile or a laugh, gives Wilbur a knife in the chest.
Techno watches as blood blooms over his twin’s shirt. As his mouth pops open in shock and he crumples.
blood for the Blood God, a Voice whispers in his head.
The man yanks the knife out of Wilbur’s chest. His scream excites the Voices to shout, even as Techno stands numb with shock.
blood
BLOOD
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD
The knife is aimed at Techno but he moves too quickly, a red haze descending on his vision. He’s tall and heavy for thirteen, and he grips the man’s arm and throws him to the floor.
The Voices sing.
KILL HIM
RIP HIM APART
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD
He snaps back, shaking and spitting blood. The assassin is lying on the floor, body twitching, blood gushing from his throat in jagged spurts.
Did- did Techno do that? Did he just rip a man’s throat open with his teeth?
There’s a strangled groan behind him and Techno spins, and all the air goes out of his lungs.
Phil’s cradling Wilbur in his arms and Wilbur’s drenched in blood and he’s not moving-
Techno drops, crawls over to grip his twin’s limp arm. “Wil,” he whispers, the coppery taste of blood still in his mouth. “Wilbur, no, no-”
Wilbur isn’t breathing.
The Voices are silent.
~~~
One minute, Phil’s talking to a noble, discussing details for the Solstice.
The next, Wilbur screams.
He’s across the room in a flash, wings opening wide as he searches for his child-
He’s bleeding on the floor.
Phil drops heavily to his knees, gathering Wilbur in his arms. His son screams again, a strangled sound, as Phil presses one hand over the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.
“You’re okay,” Phil says, and the words are a lie. “You’re gonna be okay, Wil, just keep looking at me.”
It’s already too late. Wilbur’s eyes go glassy, and his heart stops beating. He lays there, limp and lifeless, in Phil’s lap.
Phil looks up, ready to rain down hell on the assassin who killed his baby, only to find that Techno’s already taken care of it. The younger twin’s eyes are gleaming red, and blood drips from his mouth. There’s a man lying on the floor beneath him, convulsing and dying, a knife clasped in one hand.
His throat has been torn open. Which explains the blood Techno spits out of his mouth as his eyes fade back to normal.
Wilbur, oh gods, Wilbur’s dead in his arms. Phil groans, clutching his baby closer.
“Wil,” Techno whimpers, grabbing his twin’s arm. “Wilbur, no- no-”
Techno doesn’t beg him to wake up. He knows, and Phil’s heart aches. Techno has seen too much of death in his short life to think this is anything else.
Kristin, Phil sends out desperately, please, let me have him back. Please send him back.
He knows that if She chooses, She could keep him. Keep Wilbur with her and he would be safe there, he would be so safe and nothing could hurt him ever again, but Phil wants his baby back. He wants his child alive.
His chest clenches painfully for a second, and he hears Her voice.
“I have him, Phil. I’ll send him back shortly.”
Phil takes a breath as his heart restarts, reaches one arm out to hold Techno. Thank the gods, thank his Goddess.
“Trust me, Tech?”
His son nods, breath hitching, and Phil takes a second to marvel at the instant unquestioning response, at Techno’s utter faith even after all the ways his father has failed him.
“Wil’s gonna be okay,” Phil says, heart thudding in his throat. “Let’s take him to his room and get him cleaned up, okay? So he’s comfortable when he wakes up.”
Techno raises his head, looking Phil straight in the eyes. “He’s coming back?”
“Yeah, Tech. Your mother promised. He’ll be okay.”
~~~
Wilbur opens his eyes.
A dark sky arches overhead, purple and indigo. He’s lying in soft grass, and he sits up, gazing around at the flowers that surround him.
Footsteps come down the hedged path. Wilbur turns, and sees-
“Mom!”
His mother’s delighted laugh echoes around him, and the next second She’s scooping Wilbur up, settling him in Her lap. “What have you been doing with yourself, sweetheart?”
Wilbur’s chest aches at the reminder of the knife, the blood. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know you didn’t.” She kisses his forehead, fingers smoothing the pain away as though it hadn’t existed at all.
“Am I going to get to go home?” Wilbur gazes up at Her. “’s not that I don’t want to stay, but I’d miss Dad. And Techno.”
“Yes, love. I’m going to send you home soon. But for now…” She holds him a little tighter, kisses his forehead. “Lie still, Wilbur. Rest a little. I’m here, and nothing can hurt you while you’re in my arms.”
Wilbur closes his eyes and breathes in the delicate scent of the flowers. He’s safe, held in Death’s embrace.
“I love you, Mumza.”
She hums, kissing his forehead again. “I love you, my Wilbur.”
~~~
Five hours.
It takes five hours for Wilbur to come back.
It’s so long that if She hadn’t promised, Phil would start to think Kristin had decided to keep him. But then, to Her, ‘shortly’ could be anything from a few minutes, to a day. The Goddess is timeless, after all.
He sits beside Wilbur’s bed, waiting for the first sign of life. Techno, also clean now and exhausted, is lying beside his twin, living fingers interlocked with Wilbur’s cold ones.
And finally, Wilbur breathes.
Techno lifts his head from the pile of pillows, remaining otherwise still. Phil leans over to hold Wilbur’s hand, brush messy curls back off his forehead.
“Wilbur, baby,” he breathes. “There you are, you’re okay-”
“Wilbur,” Techno whispers, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Wake up.”
“’m awake,” Wilbur grumbles, barely audible. “Shuttup.”
Phil exhales, smiling slightly. “I really need you to open your eyes for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?”
“Don’ wanna.”
“Wil, please.” Techno sounds worried, something else that is far from usual, and that makes Phil worry.
Then again, when Techno died, he resurrected into the haze of bloodwrath and tried to attack his twin. So Phil can understand the anxiety.
Wilbur blinks, and Phil finds himself holding his breath-
His eyes are brown. Normal.
Phil exhales, smiling at Wilbur. “Hi, sweetheart. There you are. You’re okay.”
“You’re okay,” Techno repeats, dropping his head on his twin’s shoulder. His own shoulders are shaking. “You’re okay, Wil.”
Wilbur pulls his hand away from Phil, swatting lazily at Techno. “Ge’ off.”
“No.” Techno grunts, flinging his other arm over Wilbur’s chest.
Phil watches the twins’ antics, finally remembering that there are things he needs to check. “Wilbur,” he says, tapping his cheek to try to get his attention. “I need you to listen for a second, okay?”
Wilbur’s gaze flicks over.
“Do you feel anything… different?” Phil’s heart is in his throat.
“No.” Wilbur makes a face, whining in discontent. “Hurts.”
“Where does it hurt?” Phil asks immediately.
“My chest.”
Phil exhales slowly. Probably just the ordinary post-revival pain but he needs to be sure. “I’m gonna take a quick look, okay?”
He doesn’t wait for Wilbur’s nod, carefully pulling up his shirt. The gruesome wound in his ribs is closed now, flesh neatly knitted together with threads of purple magic.
“Here?” Phil murmurs, brushing the scar lightly.
Wilbur flinches, and Phil pulls his hand back. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I just had to make sure.” He pulls Wilbur’s shirt back down, leans up to kiss his forehead. “You’re okay, Wil. You’re gonna be okay.”
“Sure?” Techno asks, voice muffled in his twin’s shoulder.
Phil reaches over, setting his hand on Techno’s shoulder, thumb rubbing gentle circles. “Yeah, Tech. I’m sure.”
“Good.” Techno turns his head, bumping his forehead against Wilbur’s cheek. “You scared me, Wil.”
“’ll try harder not to die next time, w’ll that make you happy?” Wilbur grumbles.
Techno deadpans. “Yes.”
Wilbur giggles, high-pitched and clearly exhausted.
“Hey.” Phil smooths his hair. “You should get some sleep, Wilbur.”
Techno nods, starting to shift, presumably to sit upright.
“You too, Technoblade.” Phil glares, reaching across Wilbur to push the younger twin back down.
“If you’re leaving, I’m staying awake so no one else can get to him.” Techno’s gaze meets his.
Phil sighs, smoothing the determined wrinkle out of Techno’s forehead with one thumb. “I will post an entire squadron of guards. No one will get to either of you.”
Techno glares. “I’m not sleeping.”
Yeah, Phil’s not winning this one. “Will you, if I stay?”
Techno seems to consider that for a minute, finally nodding. “If you’re here.”
Phil supposes he can shirk his duties for the rest of the day. If he’s honest with himself, he’s not much inclined to leave Wilbur’s side, anyway.
He gathers his sons up in his arms, wings mantled to protect them, shelter them close. He wants to erase the image of Wilbur’s unmoving body from his mind, forget the feeling of his son limp and lifeless in his arms, and the best way to do that is hold him, living.
Techno doesn’t release his grip on his twin, and from the way Wilbur curls into him, he doesn’t much mind. Phil pulls a blanket up around all three of them, holding his boys in his lap.
They’re okay. They’re safe.
Thank you, Kristin.
“Anything, my love.”