Work Text:
Thessally stilled as the ring on their finger went cold. They had found comfort in the warmth of the gold band, reminding them that the rest of the Agents were safe. Or at least alive, if not safe. The warmth had let them find and save Salix without the guilt of letting her allies down by leaving them, knowing that they were alive, even as they travelled through the waste. The sendings from Ceallach had helped as well, hearing his voice providing that extra bit of reassurance. But the ring was a constant reminder that the others were alive, even without them there to aid them, protect them, fight with them.
Less than a moment later the ring was warm again. Ceallach had been nearby and reacted fast, or maybe Tarka. Or maybe it had been Flynn, going down but pressing on through a combination of fire on his shoulder and sheer stubbornness. Either way, it was warm again. They were all still alive.
Thessally continued their conversation with Iona, deciding which of the angels they would be heading for next to recruit. It was only seconds after the ring had warmed that it cooled again, dropping in temperature until it felt as if they were wearing a ring of ice rather than a band of gold. The other Agents of Repair were clearly in a battle, and it wasn’t going well for them. None of them had fallen in the fight against demons in Addersfeld, none of them had gone down against the Fatale Reserve. They had survived everything else the Waste threw at them, even without Thessally. They would survive this as well.
They hesitated, before pushing through, continuing to talk. There was nothing they could do to help. They were nowhere near the other Agents. They just had to trust that Ceallach and Seeker would be able to heal whoever had gone down. Ceallach wouldn’t let anyone die, wouldn’t let any of them stay down if he could help it. And Seeker had some healing ability if it was Ceallach that was down. They would be alright. They had to be. They had a contract to complete, and Thessally refused to be alone in killing the Outcast.
They were right. Mere seconds later the ring warmed again, settling back to the warm, reassuring temperature of safety. And it stayed like that. Thessally let out a slow breath, relieved that the others had survived whatever battle they had encountered. She nodded to Iona as their conversation finished, before summoning their wings – which remain for more than a minute as long as Iona had need of them, and allowed her to keep up with the angels they were finding and assembling – and taking off after the angel she was descended from.
It was barely over an hour later, when the gold band went cold again. Thessally was gathered with the Host of Heaven, the angels all found and assembled for a fight with the Old Gods against the New Gods. They stiffened as the ring went cold, paying attention to the briefing they were getting from the Dawn Hammer, even as their thoughts went to their allies. They were sure, somehow, that the AoR were fighting Korven. One of them had fallen, and they just hoped that whichever Agent it was, would get back up.
She settled as the ring warmed again, only to stiffen as it shot cold. It was almost agonising, to know that the other Agents were fighting and falling, in a battle only an hour after their last one. It was hard, to stand here and get the briefing from angels, safe in the Heavens, whilst her allies were fighting for their lives and for the fate of Elbor. She knew that this was where she needed to be, that they had had their own role to play over the last several days, that their path had been different than the path for the rest of the Agents. They knew that they had had to leave to find Salix, the only family they had left, but it didn’t make being here, and not with the Agents, any easier. Especially knowing that one of them might be dying and she had no way to help.
The ring warmed again. And stayed that way.
Then, an echoing voice sounded around them, and yet Thessally knew it was coming from far away.
“As my colleague was saying, we do not come alone.”
“Go,” the Dawn Hammer said, and the angels around them moved. Flashes of light and swirls of wings as the angels, the Host of Heaven, descended down into the Waste and to the ruins of Primordia. A flash engulfed Thessally, their wings wrapping around them, similar to when they used Dimension door, but this was not their magic. They appeared again next to the Dawn Hammer, wings spread behind them.
She blinked, clearing the light from her eyes, before turning. Behind her, on top of a ziggurat, was the rest of the Agents of Repair. They moved before realising it, landing next to the others, next to their allies, their friends.
“Hello dear,” they said, a smile tugging at one side of their mouth as they examined the others. Seeker was bloody, clothes torn and bloodstained, a pair of wings on his back. He was likely one of the reasons their ring went cold. Olma appeared mostly unharmed, her skin glowing with an almost invisible silver hue, tear tracks running down her cheeks, the hood of her cloak resting on her shoulders rather than on her head. Ceallach was charred and dusty and covered in blood, his skin seemingly half peeling off, his bandage hidden by a golden and jewelled sleeve. They would guess he was the other reason for the cold ring. Flynn appeared unharmed, muscles more obvious and clothes torn and bloody but no blood on his skin, a new maul in his hands that was larger than he was tall, and a new belt around his waist.
They were all alive. And in one piece. More or less.
“Hi.”