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The ropes were a bit much, in Techno’s opinion. So was the blindfold, sure, but the ropes around his arms were a special sort of annoying. They chafed and pulled and made it hard to balance on the precarious stone steps they were leading him up. If it weren’t for the little gap at the bottom of the blindfold, he’d have fallen three times already.
Of course, he knew where they were going. They were headed for Dragon’s Peak, so he could be sacrificed. He’d walked up here before, when he was a kid, so they could explain what would happen.
It was an honor, or something, to be a chosen one. To have a prophecy about oneself was to be seen as dangerous, too dangerous for the mortal world, even. The children had all been told about it, about how the chosen had to give themself up to ensure their safety from the mythical. The Oracle would see who the myths wanted, and then send the chosen to the peak and they’d be sacrificed.
If the myths accepted the sacrifice, the town would be granted another ten years of peace and safety. If not, the chosen was killed for being a false chosen.
Either way, prophecies got you killed around here.
When the Oracle named Technoblade, it had felt inevitable. He’d always sort of… known. He was different than the other village children, with pale hair and red eyes and a sort of pallor that had him labeled as a demon as a baby. He was just as human as anyone else, though, he just looked a little funny and burned in the sun.
In any case, he was chosen and it was a surprise to absolutely no one.
They reached the peak, and Techno was led over to the tall stone pillar there. Someone took off his blindfold, so he could see the various cloaked figures that surrounded him. Techno lifted his own arms so they could get to the thick iron ring above. Q, because it was definitely Q, struggled to tie the knot there for a moment before finally feeling content with it and stepping back into the circle.
“My fellow citizens,” Tubbo started, reading from the large, dusty tome he held. The hood of his robe barely fit, so oversized that it covered his entire head, but it couldn’t hide his voice. “We gather here today to sacrifice Techno the Blade as commanded by the Oracle Kri–”
“To the great dragon in return for years of peace,” Techno interrupted. “We know, can we just get this over with?”
Tubbo sighed. “If we don’t do this right and the dragon gets mad, it’s your fault.”
“I’ll take that risk,” Techno said gravely.
“Can we just be done, I want to get out of this damn robe,” Q called.
Tubbo sighed again, closing the tome. He waved a hand as he spoke. “When night comes, so does the dragon, and you’ll be no more. Thank you for your sacrifice.”
Techno shrugged and watched as the group wandered back down the stone steps, but Tubbo held back. The Mayor hesitated at the top of the stairs, looking back at Techno.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about this, Techno,” Tubbo said quietly, a sad sort of smile on his face.
Techno laughed. “You don’t control the magic, but hey if you’re really sorry you could come cut me down. No one would know.” He tugged half heartedly on the rope.
“You know I can’t risk that,” Tubbo shook his head. “I just hope it’s quick.”
And the Mayor left. Just like that, Technoblade was condemned to death and had no option but to sit there and wait for the sun to sink below the horizon and the dragon of the night to arrive to claim its sacrifice.
…
Yeah, as if.
When the voices were gone back down the mountain, Techno moved. He dug into his hair, where he had stashed a tiny blade. It was hidden in a hair stick, so no one had thought anything of it when he insisted he wear it to his demise. He had to be presentable to be eaten, guys, come on.
He chuckled at the thought and started sawing through the ropes.
It wasn’t easy work, and he almost dropped the thing twice, but by the time the sun was touching the horizon, he was free. He took a moment to catch his breath and rub feeling back into one hand.
Now, he just had to get the heck out of dodge and go become a hermit in the woods or something. He couldn’t go home, obviously, but the forest life was totally reasonable. He could pretend to be some sort of fae and live in a tree. It would be great.
He headed for the edge of the peak, where a small rubble pile hid a pack of supplies he’d snuck out a few weeks ago. He was paranoid, and it worked in his favor this time, since the town kept him locked up and under watch once the Oracle called his name. He just had to lift this one rock and–
“Lookin’ for this, mate?”
Techno froze, staring at the empty hollow where the pack should have been. He didn’t recognize the voice, and he hadn’t heard anyone approach. He turned slowly, trying to hide his actual terror.
The pack was dropped in the dirt between him and the stranger, tossed there haphazardly. The stranger was…. not human. Not even a little bit.
He was small, but radiated danger. Sharp claws at the end of his fingers, dark scales littering his cheeks like freckles, eyes like molten gold, hair like shimmering golden feathers, a sharp-toothed grin, and a massive pair of wings on his back… No this guy was not human.
Techno just stared for a moment, blinking dumbly at the… dragon? The dragon raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the pack.
“Oh, uh, yeah, actually,” Techno finally managed to say. “Thanks.”
Neither of them moved.
The dragon blinked. “So are you gonna… take it? Where you planning on going?”
Techno jumped slightly, and quickly scooped up the bag. He took a quick look through it and found everything where it needed to be: a small cooking set, a few knives, some spare clothes, a length of rope.
“Someplace that’s not here,” Techno answered. He slung the bag on his back, squinting at the dragon. “I don’t suppose you’re gonna let me just walk out of here?”
The dragon shrugged, glancing back at the quickly lowering sun. “There’s about an hour of daylight left,” he commented, his wings stretching out behind him. “Technically the sacrifice doesn’t happen until nightfall, so… you do you.”
“You’re the dragon?”
“In a form.”
“Great.”
“And you’re the sacrifice?”
Techno drew his expression into a flat line. “Nope. Could not be me. I’d never be sacrificed.”
The dragon hummed, nodding. “Of course, of course.”
They stood in silence for another few seconds, decidedly not looking at each other..
“Whelp, bye,” Techno said. He turned and bolted, running for the path down the mountain.
Behind him, the dragon cackled, a bright and entirely too happy sound. “Oh she said you’d be fun!”
Techno darted off the path into the forest, vaulting over a fallen log and vanishing into the underbrush.
There was a terrifying sound from the mountain, a sort of tearing of flesh and crackle of bone, then a woosh of air as the dragon presumably took flight.
Techno tried to aim for the denser, darker portion of the forest, where the dragon might be too large to fit or fly. But the trees cracked and split and a massive, black form burst through them, long talons out and golden scales glinting in the dusklight.
Techno dove away, stumbling. The dragon spun, slamming its tail through trunks of trees and slamming into Techno’s torso. The man was flung backward, into a tree, and something cracked.
This was it, he was done.
The dragon prowled forward, a long, beak-like snout curling into a grin as he approached. There were golden feathers down his back, like a mane. If Techno weren’t about to die, he might have thought it was beautiful.
“Got you,” the dragon purred.
The last thing Techno saw was a taloned hand reaching for him, wrapping around his entire body, and lifting him like a ragdoll.
Techno woke slowly.
The fact that he woke at all was a goddamn miracle, but that was beside the point.
He woke slowly, eyes peeling open and body aching… and saw a face. A kid. Bright eyes and wild blond hair stared down at him, and Techno just knew this was going to be all kinds of stupid.
“‘Ello,” the kid said. “How old are you?”
Techno blinked. “Why?”
“Answer the question,” the kid snapped. “I gotta know.”
“Twenty?” Techno frowned, hissing when his ribs protested his attempt to sit upright.
“Fuck!” The kid shouted, pushing back and falling dramatically. “No! Phil! How dare you get another one older than me! Phiiiiiil! I’ll pluck your feathers you wrongun, you curse me! Every fucking time!”
Techno had to take a moment to process that. The kid bolted away to a… door? There was a bend in a cave wall and the kid vanished behind it, shouting at whoever Phil was about ages.
That provided a few seconds of silence so Techno could look around. And realized he was in a cave. Like a right and proper cavern, laid out on a nest of straw and downy feathers. A nest? Did the dragon bring him home?
He managed to struggle up to sitting, his ribs protesting and one arm burning. He propped himself against the neat wall, already trying to find ways to escape a dragon’s lair.
Footsteps echoed down the hall, and a small woman with vibrant pink hair poked her head around the corner.
“Oh, hello,” she said, waving. “I heard Tommy screaming and wanted to check in. How are you feeling?”
“Who are you?” Techno asked, eyes narrowing. “I’m fine, just dandy. No problems here, not a one.”
He hissed as he tried to sit up taller, and the woman hid a giggle with one hand.
“I’m Niki,” she said, “I’m—“
A hand on her shoulder silenced her. Long dark talons and piercing golden eyes. The dragon.
“She’s one of mine,” the dragon’s voice was low, possessive, protective. “As everyone here is.”
Techno raised one eyebrow.
“Yes, even you, mate,” the dragon chuckled.
Great. It seemed he wasn’t food. “If not food what am I?” Techno thought out loud.
The dragon laughed.
“Phil, shouldn’t we just tell him?” Niki asked hesitantly.
“Sure, sure,” Phil waved one hand, then walked into the cave, his massive, bat-like wings filling the space with shadows. “Your town sacrifices people, I collect them. It’s very simple.”
Techno paled. He was a pet, then? A trophy?
“We’re like siblings,” Niki interrupted. “The Oracle, she finds people touched by gods or the mythical and sends them here. Phil adopts them, and keeps them safe. Mortals can be so… dangerous for people like us.”
“Like us?” Techno frowned. “I’m not special though. I’m just—“
“You are, or Kristin wouldn’t have sent me to get you,” Phil stated. “We’ll figure out your gift later. For now, come meet everyone.”
Tommy, the blond child from before, was sacrificed at sixteen, and had been in the horde for one-hundred and thirty-seven years. Being the youngest while having the most seniority in the horde was driving him insane. He took it out on everyone by being a menace.
Niki, the kind-faced woman with pink hair, was nineteen and an excellent baker. She’d been in the horde for fifty-three years, and discovered her love of baked goods there.
Wilbur, a ghostly pale man with a curling cloud of brown hair, was twenty. He’d been in the horde for one-hundred and one years, and immediately called Techno his twin upon realizing they were the same age.
Ranboo, a spindly, nervous boy was seventeen when he was sacrificed, and was a new member, only being in the horde for about twenty five years.
There were others, but Technoblade couldn’t be bothered to remember every single name and face and date of sacrifice and whatnot. He remembered Tommy because he was annoying. And Niki because she was kind. Wilbur never left him alone, and Ranboo was his assigned roommate.
It turned out, sacrifices weren’t actually sacrificed. Well, they were, but not to die. They were abdopted, as Tommy coined it. Abducted to their adoptions, because the Oracle could find those with gifts. Magic, wings, half breeds, and more. She found them and Phil snagged them.
Techno’s gift was, apparently, healing very quickly. His ribs were right as rain within a day of being broken. Little cuts sealed up in seconds.
It was not at all what he expected when he was tied up on the mountain top, but it was certainly more interesting than living in a little village as the only oddity. With people as strange as this around, every day threatened to be an adventure.
And Techno reckoned he could deal with that.