Chapter Text
“ Calm down! ”
It was Phil who came to his senses first, and realized that shouting wasn’t going to get them any closer to getting answers. Or getting to Tommy, for that matter.
And oh, isn’t hope such a beautiful thing? The feeling rose in Phil’s chest, rising and rising at the thought that his son would be alive- it rose until he was scared of falling and plummeting down to the earth.
He could see it in the others’ eyes, too. Techno, Wil, Tubbo- even the others of Tommy’s personal flock. Each of them had a new light that entered with the mere prospect of the young phoenix being alive, and the hope in their eyes shone.
But hope is a dangerous thing.
“Puffy, was it?” Phil said slowly. The young woman in question inclined her head. For a moment, all of the eloquence from years of being king vanished, and he searched for the words to say. He finally settled on, “Tommy’s alive? ”
Puffy slowly leaned back, smirk ever-present. “Why, of course. Magic- the same magic that gave Sam his sight, his arm and gave me my legs- it saved Tommy, too. The City of Embers is full of magic.”
“The City of Embers…” Finn murmured as Phil’s mind continued to spin. Because Tommy’s alive- Tommy’s alive, and Phil has a chance to see his son again. The relief is dizzying, and he can barely hear the conversation over the roaring in his ears- but he must, so he shakes it off and continues to listen.
“The City of Embers.” Puffy agreed, nodding. “For years, decades- it was the four of us. We sought to protect the ancestral home of the phoenixes from the Fallen. Why exactly they keep on attacking, we do not know.” Puffy frowned, at that. “We think it may be the knowledge locked inside the library, or perhaps behind that netherite door none of us can access.”
“So it’s real.” Finn breathed out. “The ancestral home of the phoenixes. All that knowledge- and it’s still there?”
“All of it.” Puffy confirmed. “We have not yet touched the history in the books. It seems that only a phoenix has the ability to do so- but nonetheless, Velvet has read many of the journals written. And The Heart tells us much.”
“The Heart.” Finn echoed.
“It gives us what we need.” She gestured to her legs, useless and limp in her wheelchair. “The Heart speaks to us, sometimes. It tells us when there’s a threat. It tells us who to save.”
“So Tommy was not insane.” Harvey muttered, for which Vurb smacked him. Phil’s eyes caught the scar that barely peeked out of his sleeve, and his heart stuttered painfully.
He pushed down the feelings again.
“And where…” Mayor Scar asked, “is the City of Embers?”
Puffy opened her mouth, about to speak, but the one beside her- Sam, if Phil recalled correctly,- put a hand on her shoulder. Phil did not miss the way the other arm was completely limp, nor the way his eyes were unfocused. “We can lead you there.” The green winged said.
At this, Tubbo leapt up to his feet. “Then let’s go-”
Sooner than Phil could speak, Dream stood up. “Tubbo.”
“ Dream. ” There was a kind of desperation in Tubbo’s eyes- the same kind that was with him when he found out that Tommy was alive after the second time they thought him dead. It hurt Phil to see the boy, so young , to be filled with such desperation. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t see it in Wil, or even Techno as well.
“Tubbo.” Dream said, not unkindly. “I know you really want to see Tommy again. I’m sure that the rest of his family does too-” and at this, the phoenixes nod, and Phil finds himself shifting his wings, nearly subconsciously. “-but we have to plan this out.”
“The Fallen will return again.” Corpse cuts in, voice gravelly. “We must protect our own lands. We can’t afford to send too many of them off.”
The silence blankets them as they realize the gravity of the situation, despite the joy of being told that the youngest prince of the Antarctic Empire is alive.
And Queen Lily tilts her head ever so slightly, after the brief pause. “Forgive me if this is out of line, King Philza.” And Phil tilts his own head in acknowledgement, allowing her to continue. “But perhaps the only ones we should send are from the combined kingdom that is the Antarctic Empire and the Dream SMP?”
Rae nodded in agreement. “Perhaps it would do to have the phoenixes only, in all honesty.” The woman pointed towards the group of ten with bright, red-orange plumage. Phil had a hard time reconciling this composed, professional front with the warrior he had seen rip through Fallen only three weeks ago.
Albeit that thought was somewhat overtaken with the grief that followed, with the realization that followed. Pokimane must have seen his face crumple a little bit, despite his calm exterior. “I’m sorry, King Philza.” Pokimane said softly. “But your people need their rulers.”
He took a deep breath at that, grounding himself with the knowledge that there are thousands of people, dependent on him and Dream’s leadership. “Right. Correct.” He lifted his chin up, and in that moment, the crown seemed heavier than ever. “Correct. I’m aware that the Antarctic Empire is still dependent on us. We’ll choose who to go carefully.”
Nods across the room. Some of them whispered to each other.
In appreciation or distaste, Phil didn’t know.
“If I may.” Wilbur cut in. “We may need a little more time to discuss who goes, and who must stay. Miss- Puffy. You can stay for the night, if you wish. As for the other kingdoms-” Wilbur’s eyes scanned the crowd of rulers and people from all across the land. “-you are welcome to stay as well. But your kingdoms are all equally at risk of attack. Be careful.”
There were another sea of nods after Wilbur’s talk, and most of the rulers began to head back, a few discussing with each other the fastest way to support the other kingdoms.
That year, the meeting disbanded far earlier, compared to previous years. It also disbanded with no trade agreements, but a mutual alliance between all of them- an alliance, against the ones that sought to burn their homes down.
That year, deals were exchanged and messengers were sent ahead to prepare for any siege that might befall any city, and they made clear with the remaining messengers exactly how important their job would become.
That year, everyone left with the knowledge that the avariel gifted with Rebirth had returned, along with the knowledge that perhaps home will not be safe until the ones that wiped them out in the first place are gone.
~
Tubbo was- how should he say this?
He was terrified. But the hope had risen in his chest, and there was no way to squash it now.
It wasn’t long after Wilbur’s final statement that most of the others have left. Most were whispering amongst themselves, particularly those not from the Comfy Kingdom. Likely, they were all preparing themselves for war.
Would Tubbo call it a war? Not exactly. Back when he had first been kidnapped and shoved into a cell, with another phoenix- Tommy- in the cell across him, it had just been the two of them against the Fallen.
How quickly it had escalated. Because not even a year later, it was a full-blown war- and not between kingdoms. An alliance between the greatest powers of the land, all united against the same enemy- the same Fallen.
The exact same Fallen. Curse their immortality. A thing so unnatural and evil at the core of it that it makes Tubbo shiver.
So… yeah. Tubbo would call it a war.
Maybe it’s because at the core of him, he remembers the complicated politics of the land. Right up until Tommy had gone missing, the Dream SMP and the Antarctic Empire had been nothing more than enemies. Bordering on conflict. And now, they had decided to merge their kingdoms, shocking most, if not all of the rulers that were spread across the lands.
The politics of this world are… complicated, for the lack of a better word.
But Tubbo still finds it hard to grasp the fact that all they needed to unite themselves was the return of the phoenixes, and with them, the return of an ancient threat that was after the said phoenixes.
It’s one of the predominant thoughts in his head as he’s led to another meeting room where most of the Dream SMP, the Antarctic Empire and the phoenixes will meet. The rest of his mind is filled with Tommy.
Because Tommy is alive.
His soulmate is alive.
And it’s only been three weeks- no, it’s already been three weeks, during which he and Tommy’s family had been numbingly aching at the loss of such a familiar presence- something that disappeared as quickly as the morning dew.
Phil had said they did not know whether or not he was alive.
That was true. Because the cursed wristband on his arm would not come off, and he remembers spending hours, days, weeks trying to claw off the piece of dark metal on his wrist. He remembers the nights he spent, sobbing into his brother’s shoulder- the nights during which Dream had to convince him to stop doing something that was ultimately fruitless.
He remembers feeling just as helpless as during the month when the Fallen had taken over the Antarctic Empire’s castle, even though there were no Fallen mantling their wings in his face, and there were no wing clamps taking away his flight.
But he missed him. Missed his toothy grin, his confidence, his arrogance and he missed the glowing disc on his wrist.
And now there’s a chance to see him again.
Tubbo half-stumbles, half walks to the room with the nine other phoenixes, his brother and his friends, and the rest of Tommy’s family.
Most of their faces are set into a hard expression- Dream’s mask is still on, with that crude smiley face, Sapnap and George look mildly uncomfortable, Spifey’s lips are pursed along with Vurb, Mega, Zelk and Astelic. The last one’s scar across her face just darkens her entire expression even further.
But there is hope, as well. Finn is writing, scribbling furiously on his notebook- perhaps to document this moment, as historian. Harvey’s enthusiasm is no longer as tempered, and though Bad and Skeppy look more cautious than ever, there is a small smile on Skeppy’s face that also somewhat betrays how Bad feels.
And of course, Phil, Wilbur and Techno. Once the door has closed, Phil’s entire kingly facade drops, and he now looks even older under the candlelight- but his posture is straighter, and he is no longer slumping, and Techno’s eyes look a little less bloodthirsty, and the madness that always seems to be bordering on spilling over in Wilbur’s eyes has completely receded.
It’s a sight to behold, but only if you know where to look.
There is a portrait behind Phil. It’s of the five of them- Tommy had insisted that Tubbo be included, and now Tubbo finds himself staring at the spot where he stood, documented in paint. Phil, Techno, Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo.
It was a while before someone cleared their throat- Phil. It was Phil.
It had been a little bit of a blur for Tubbo, he’ll admit. But in hindsight, everything was ingrained in his head with perfect clarity.
At that moment, however, the thing that took over his train of thought was the thoughts of Tommy, Tommy, he’s alive, he’s not dead, Tommy, he was saved, he survived-
Tubbo only startled back into reality when Dream shakes him. At the questioning incline of his brother’s head, he swallows and nods, knowing that he’ll have to listen to this conversation.
It passes in a blur nonetheless, but at least he’s there to process the words being thrown around the room.
“...So.” Phil sighs, and his wings droop the slightest bit. “I think… I think we all know who must stay, and who must go.”
All eyes turn to Tubbo, and he flinches just the slightest bit under the attention- but Phil is not wrong. There would be nothing stopping Tubbo from attempting to reach Tommy, especially now that they have a lead.
But Phil had also said “who must stay.” Why- oh.
Tubbo nearly smacks himself for forgetting that despite how close the family is, they are, at the end, rulers of an empire. Dream and Phil cannot leave- they’re bound to their land, just like three weeks ago.
The people need them.
(Tubbo is glad that he does not need to make decisions like this, yet. He cannot imagine choosing between Tommy and the fate of thousands and thousands of people, or bearing the burden of being the king of an empire, making decisions that carry so much weight.)
(He ignores the fact that one day, he will outlive his brother- and one day, perhaps it will be him on the throne, making these decisions, and going to war on behalf of the people.)
“So Phil will have to stay.” Techno says, gruffly.
“You too, Techno.” Phil says, and he sounds tired beyond his years- but it’s something that needs to be said.
The warrior in question spins on his heels, and he glares at his father. But Phil doesn’t flinch.
“That’s my brother .” Techno growls. “That’s my brother that’s been weeks without his family.”
“And that’s my son, too.” Phil shoots back, and at that, Techno deflates. “Tommy is important to all of us, Techno- but you’re our best warrior, along with Dream. If the Fallen attack again, we cannot afford to lose the city.”
Techno slumps, somewhat in defeat.
“We-” Phil sighs, heavier this time. “We have a responsibility to our people, me and Dream both. And Techno, we need you too. And as much as I would love to have the phoenixes go and explore their ancestral home- I’m so sorry, but there are only so many people that we can spare. We barely survived the last attack. And though reinforcements are here, we have to be prepared.”
Phil raised his head again, another glint in his eyes. “To defend the city, and make another stand, if we must.”
“At the cost of your family, Phil?” Spifey asks, quietly.
Phil stills.
Tubbo watches, somewhat morbidly curious at the answer. How does one make the right choice? Do you sacrifice thousands for the well-being of those that you love?
Who do you have more of a responsibility to?
The people you swore to rule over with your best judgement? Or the family you’ve raised and loved?
He remembers Phil being asked this, right before the lands of the Antarctic Empire and the Dream SMP had been sieged.
He remembers the answer.
“I will do my damndest to make sure everyone comes out of this alive.” Phil grits out.
“And that’s what you said the last time.” Spifey points out, softly.
Silence.
“We cross that bridge when we get there, Spifey.” Phil whispers. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
“You haven’t made your choice.” Spifey accuses.
“I have.” Phil replies. “I just don’t think it necessary to share it until the circumstances force it upon me.”
Tubbo listens to the conversation like he’s watching Technoblade and Dream spar, and he doesn’t know whether or not he’s supposed to feel relief or disappointment at the non-answer.
Truthfully, Tubbo does not know what he wants Phil to choose.
The city? At the expense of the son he lost twice, the one that he thought dead for eight years and more , and Tubbo’s soulmate? His other half?
Tommy? At the expense of thousands and thousands of lives, and an empire he built himself from nothing? The heart and soul of himself?
“So not Phil, Dream or Techno.” Sapnap fills in, somewhat awkwardly. “And neither me or George, likely, because… well.” Sapnap shrugs. “It’s not necessary. And we’re decent fighters.”
“Finn should go.” The phoenix in question snaps to attention as Harvey pipes up. “Finn’s our historian. He needs to document the stories, store them somewhere safer. Or, at the very least, if the City of Embers is the safest place for these stories- then we have Finn bring them over. Add to the collection.”
Finn blinks for a little while longer before he sighs and closes his notebook. “I guess so. I’ll bring the introduction notecards. And the books I have written.”
“Alright.” Phil nods. “I think we could probably spare two more phoenixes. Who else should go?”
The remaining eight phoenixes exchanged glances, before Bad and Skeppy stood forward, as a unit.
“We can go.” Bad said, quietly. “We do need to find some more information about the soulmate bond, do we not? I think… maybe that’ll be a chance for us to know more about this.” And Bad tapped the glowing duck on his wrist at that. Tubbo winced as he was reminded of the dark metal that covered his own wrist, and clenched his hand against the thought.
Phil exhales slowly. “Okay. So you, Skeppy, Tubbo and Finn. Is that-”
“Me.” Wilbur said suddenly.
All heads turn to look at him. “...Wil?” Phil prods, cautiously.
“Me.” Wilbur repeats, eyes blazing with… something. Fierce protectiveness, perhaps, Tubbo muses as he watches the older brother’s wings flare, mustard yellow and white. “I’m useless here, anyway. The kingdom does not need an orator in the time of war- perhaps I’ll actually be of some use at the City of Embers. Helping Finn, perhaps, or comforting Tommy."
“I…” Phil still looked a little uncertain.
There were a few beats of silence.
“ Inter arma enim silent leges. ” Technoblade quoted, in the silence. “In times of war, the laws fall silent. The people need a general, not a poet, Phil.” Technoblade gestured to Wilbur. “If I must stay behind, at least allow Wilbur to go.”
For our peace of mind goes unsaid.
During a few tense seconds, everyone waits with bated breath. Even Dream, because despite being a co-leader, he recognizes that perhaps, the elder makes better decisions in regards to what’s good for the empire.
“Okay.” Phil finally concedes, and nods to the rest of the group. “Wilbur, Tubbo, Finn, Bad and Skeppy. When should we expect you guys back?”
Bad, Skeppy and Finn exchange glances. “Well,” Finn starts, “We have no way of knowing. Perhaps we’ll be staying for a long time, to note down everything for the history of the phoenixes- or perhaps it’ll be a matter of a few days to collect Tommy and get him to return.”
“Hate to say this.” George breaks in. “But we know that Tommy would do anything to get back to you guys. Something has definitely happened that prevented him from flying back to us.”
Tubbo felt a pit in his stomach grow.
He remembered the last soulscape he shared with Tommy and Phil, Wilbur and Techno.
He remembered the flickering illusion of wings, something Tommy had desperately tried to trick him with- to keep him away from the reality- the gravity of that situation.
He remembered Tommy’s words, sharp and clear.
I suppose I wasn’t ever meant to fly again.
“He doesn’t have wings.” Tubbo realizes. “He doesn’t have wings. He can’t fly.”
The silence that followed in the room was heavy.
“He said he was no longer a phoenix.” Tubbo whispered. “Because they took away his wings.”
And perhaps Tubbo should’ve had this revelation weeks ago, when Tommy told him that he wasn’t going to come back. Not in this world. But the past few weeks have been passed in numb, horrifyingly numb grief- and it’s not until Tubbo realizes that Tommy can’t return to him because of the lack of physical freedom he has, and not because of the throes of death, does the truth of the matter really hit him.
“They took away his wings. ” Tubbo repeats. “His freedom is gone. ”
Tommy loves flying. Tubbo knows that.
It just serves as another reason to hurt.
~
Puffy is sitting in her room, rubbing her legs and preening her wings when there’s a knock on her door.
“Come in.” She calls out.
She’s a little surprised to see the young woman that pushed her chair up the hill earlier- “Niki?” She asks, somewhat cautiously.
The blue and white-winged baker gives her a smile. “Hey, Puffy.”
Puffy nods to the chair in front of here, where Sam had been sitting only half an hour ago. The baker makes her way to the seat, and now both of them are sitting, facing each other with folded wings behind their backs.
Puffy inclines her head. “So? What brings you here at this time of the night?”
Niki just stares at her, an unreadable expression on her face. Puffy shifts, ever so slightly, golden wings unconsciously ruffling at the attention. She is not so used to the outside world and the politics it holds- she is not sure whether or not she should be starting conversation, or if she should be waiting for Niki to start.
The wind blows in from the window. Neither move to close it, and Puffy takes a little time to analyze the baker’s face, awash in the cold moonlight and the warm glow of the candles. She sees the light fringes flap ever so slightly with the wind, a stark contrast to the rest of her braided, dark hair. She sees her dark eyes, aflame with something she does not recognize.
Puffy thinks she needs more practice reading people.
“Tommy.” Niki finally breaks the silence, and Puffy inclines her head, once again, to show that she is paying attention. “You… mentioned him.”
“So I did.” Puffy says.
Niki chews on her lip for a little longer- a relatively un-ladylike habit, but in all honesty no one’s around to berate her for it. “...how is he?”
Puffy- well, she doesn’t quite freeze, but it is a near thing.
Niki sees this.
“Not well, huh.” Niki mutters.
“I wouldn’t say that.” Puffy says, eyes faraway. “The Heart takes care of him. The Heart takes care of all of us, really.”
“So he can fly in the City of Embers?” Niki asks, hope shining. “You say you can walk there, and Sam can see and use both of his arms. And there’s another-” Niki snaps her fingers. “Another, that had his wings wrecked, and yet he can fly. Surely Tommy can too?”
Puffy wishes she didn’t have to extinguish that light.
“The Heart can only heal what is already there.” Puffy says, quietly, and watches as Niki’s face crumples. “It cannot give what has been lost completely.”
Silence.
“But flying is everything to Tommy.” Niki says, voice broken.
“And perhaps hearing is, too.” Puffy says, gently. “But at least Sam was able to fashion hearing aids for those.”
“Tommy is deaf? ” Niki asks, horrified.
“We don’t know what happened.” Puffy said, almost mournfully. “But he was flown into the City of Embers deaf. We think it might’ve been something with the Fallen, when they ripped out-” Puffy cuts herself off. Niki looks somewhat sick.
“Those bastards. ” Niki hisses.
“Hey, hey.” Puffy settles a hand on Niki’s shoulder, and something in her chest lifts when Niki does not flinch away, but she pushes the feeling aside for now. “Anger’s not going to help anyone at the moment, least of all Tommy, alright? We’re protectors. We do what we must, until the anger we gather can be of use.”
There is a bit of quiet that follows that statement.
Niki studies her. “How did you know?”
Puffy does a small double take. “Know what?”
“The protector bit.” Niki says, ever curious.
Puffy is silent, for a few seconds. How did she know?
“Well.” She pauses, remembering something Velvet told her, ages ago. “Did you know that the phoenixes used to group the winged into kinds of people?”
Niki raised an eyebrow, a prompt for continuation.
“It’s… a little complicated.” Puffy admits, brushing her fingers against her wings as she does so. “There are many grey areas, obviously. It’s not a perfect system. But the phoenixes were knowledgeable. They were able to reliably ‘classify’ most of us, so to speak- the protectors, or Guardians- the fighters, or Warriors- the silver-tongued, or Poets- and the Kings and Rulers.”
Puffy gestured to Niki. “You, dear friend, are much like me. A Protector of all kinds. And we might not be the strongest- but the ancient magic that we inherited as part of our wings was the protective kind, the one of the flock. King Philza, of course, is a Ruler. He has a responsibility to his people. He has always known. Wilbur is a Poet, and Technoblade a Warrior.”
Puffy taps the banner of the Antarctic Empire, a carpet below their feet. “The three of them, and you , Niki, are examples of people who have inherited the most of one instinct. But something particularly intriguing that The Heart finds of Tommy has received a bit of all four. Something that has, apparently, not happened in centuries. A little bit of magic, that furthers our abilities when we need them.”
“...magic.” Niki mutters. “But that shouldn’t be possible. Only phoenixes have magic.”
“The phoenixes knew a lot.” Puffy says, not unkindly. “They knew that perhaps, we weren’t supposed to have wings. That the wings that we have on our backs were a bit of magic, given to our lands, that we’ve taken for granted.”
“But that’s not possible. ” Niki insists. “Everyone has wings.”
“We do not know that.” Puffy reminds. “What lies beyond the lands of the Comfy Kingdom? Of Hermitcraftia? Forbidden lands, we’ve said- but perhaps they house those that see wings as magic.”
Niki opens her mouth to protest again, then closes it.
“Magic.” Puffy whispers. “It lies dormant in all of us. For most of us, it isn’t enough to materialize into something we use- but Technoblade and Dream’s skills as warriors are undeniable. Philza’s natural leadership and Wilbur’s silver tongue are undeniable. Tubbo, you and my protectiveness is undeniable.”
“...I guess.” Niki muttered. “The phoenixes truly were special.”
“Truly.” Puffy agreed. “There are so many books in the City of Embers, and we’ve only gone through a portion of it, even though we’ve been nowhere else for decades.”
The wind blew in from the window.
“Do you know if the phoenixes have been somewhere else?” Niki wonders. “The forbidden lands? The woods no one has ever returned from?”
“Possibly.” Puffy answers, eyebrows furrowed. “There is one adventurer, who wrote tales and tales and tales that do not sound like they were from our time, or our lands. Perhaps he travelled.”
“Perhaps…” Niki echoed.
~
Quackity tells me that I should start writing the stories that I see. I don’t know, I mean. It’s like if I write them down, my memory just kind of starts flickering out.
But I’ve got to admit, the things that I see are quite interesting. None of the other phoenixes know of the scrying ability that only I seem to have- well, some of them do. There is a section of the phoenixes that have a scrying ability, but they’re visions of things that have happened in the other kingdoms, at that time. I don’t know why mine is so weird.
It seems to come at the cost of my memory, which… I don’t know if I like that or not.
But everything seems manageable! The gaps are nothing more than annoyances at the moment, anyway. They haven’t become too big of a problem yet. I’m sure Quackity is just overreacting.
The Phoenix does tell me to tread carefully, though. Something about how these visions can mean the future, the past, or the lands far away.
She’s frustratingly vague about the answers more often than not.
Then again, she’s another being entirely. Sure, we’re phoenixes- but really, she is The Phoenix. She knows things that we do not know, and breathes life into our feathers and her eggs- she speaks in tandem with the universe, and she creates something out of nothing.
She is also cursed. We do not know how to break that curse.
Quackity insists that there is a way, but I’m not sure. Either way, we’re trying to free her at the moment. It’s an enigma, truly.
And Quackity is now telling me to write my own name. I don’t know, he seems to be under the impression that I will one day forget who I am- really? I don’t think I’d do that, but let me introduce myself.
Wow, it feels weird to write that. I’m probably going to be the only one reading this, anyway.
And now Quackity is going on a spiel about how this is history, how my scrying abilities are frankly, unprecedented and I should document everything about it. Which, I suppose he does have a point.
Time passes quickly, while writing. Hmm. I suppose I should get on with describing my dreams? Visions? I don’t know what they are, really.
It’s just… every time I’m in that dream, it’s like I’m playing a new character. It’s always first person, and I think the interesting part is that during those dreams, none of the people I see- or me, for that matter- have wings. It’s the weirdest thing!
But The Phoenix says that there are lands where you can’t find anyone with the extra limbs on our backs. I can’t imagine not being able to fly, but I suppose we’re all used to it.
It’s quite fascinating, actually. Those wingless stories I’ve witnessed- those are few and far between. Most of my visions consist of the normal ones, albeit some of them didn’t seem to come true at all.
But then again, not all of the scryers’ visions are accurate. I’m pretty sure there isn’t an Antarctic Empire or a Dream SMP in our lands. And what kind of a name is the Comfy Kingdom? Or Hermitcraftia? It’s all somewhat strange.
And get this! The name of our land, the beautiful ℸ ̣ ᒷ∷∷ᔑ ╎⊣リ╎⚍ᒲ, is called the City of Embers instead. I mean, it does technically mean the same thing in the common tongue, but the language that The Phoenix speaks is unique. She named this beautiful place we call home. Unless circumstances caused our language to be lost, I’m not sure why it would be called the City of Embers.
But at least during those dreams, everyone has wings. Granted, none of the phoenixes I recognize are there- Eret, Foolish and Quackity certainly aren’t. I’d recognize them anywhere.
The Phoenix says it’s important. I don’t know why, but she’s always known better.
I just kinda wish that she’d actually give us straight answers, though.
But the wingless stories are really, more interesting than the winged ones. Or maybe that’s because we all have wings. But there was one, where I led a group of people to build a city- only to blow it up after an hour had passed! I don’t know what took over the thoughts of those people. And there was an even crazier one, where people were executing the other members of their town without significant evidence, all driven by fear and worry!
I mean, for all I know, these stories aren’t even real. Maybe I’m just delusional, though every time I seriously ponder about that, The Phoenix says that I’m not. I don’t know where her wisdom comes from, but there’s definitely a large reserve.
The visions are mostly happy, at the moment. There is one about a phoenix being born into the royal family- I mean, the vision doesn’t tell me, but I just know. I don’t know how I know- maybe it’s inherent, from being one of the same lineage. And there’s another one in the neighbouring kingdom, apparently.
There’s a really big skip in between? My memory isn’t very reliable. But the boys grow older, and apparently they’re soulmates. Which… is a little concerning. Bonds are only formed in a phoenix’s darkest hour- I only formed one with Quackity because we were both literally bleeding out from netherite at one point.
But they’re happy, and laughing, and there are nine more phoenixes with the two of them- not people I recognize, but phoenixes nonetheless. And it seems okay.
Maybe my scrying will allow me to revisit that world, one day. At the very least, it does not seem like ours.
At any rate, see you next time, I guess.
~
I got another Wingless dream! Or, as I like to call it, anyway. The Phoenix thinks it an apt name, after all.
Half of the time I’m convinced that she has been in the forbidden lands, beyond Shady Oaks and the Beast’s lands. She’s very tight-lipped about it, though.
Maybe there are Wingless there. Not Fallen, those whose wings were pulled out, under some bigger power and corrupted with something that The Phoenix destroyed long ago.
I mean, if the Fallen weren’t so terrible, I’d think their predicament was interesting. The remnants of the nameless darkness that The Phoenix utterly destroyed and she got cursed by came back in the form of the Fallen- and we are here to counter them.
They can’t be reborn. Sucks to be them.
But that’s a tale for our historians to fit in their books. Maybe Foolish will actually write a copy of it in the common tongue, one day.
Anyway, this dream was slightly different. There were four fishermen who were exploring this underground city, and there were all these different rooms. I didn’t recognize most of them- well, Eret’s name was mentioned, though the documented info is so different from the Eret I know. I don’t think Eret would be a tyrant with an iron fist.
It’s a mystery. There was someone who… likes to collect plates, I think? And there was an unknown room that the person leading the fishermen didn’t know who it belonged to. I don’t know, I’d think it fits me for the colour scheme and the photos on the walls.
But I digress.
I don’t know where I’m going anymore. I used to have some semblance of control over what I scry- the other scryers never had this ability, but my ability has always been different. But now, I’m losing control of where I go, and there are these flashes of an entirely white castle and a tree and- I’m actually getting a little bit scared.
And whenever I have a Wingless dream, there’s always the words “Don’t forget who you are.” What? I mean, I’d think that I would remember who I am, though?
I mean, the memory gaps have been getting a little bit bigger, recently. But I’m sure it’s fine. The Phoenix has been a little more silent than usual, though.
She’s only ever silent when something big is about to happen.
Usually it’s bad.
I try not to think too much about it.
Not like we have much control over it, anyway. None of us can see the future.
...but what if I tried?
Hmm.
And The Phoenix has just told me that it would be very dangerous. Very, very dangerous. But she hasn’t said anything else.
I mean, I do have control over the Winged visions, interestingly enough. The gaps in my memory are frustrating, but I know that I once knew what I don’t know.
Wow, that’s confusing.
It’s food for thought. I think I might try it next time.
Aaaaaand now Quackity is yelling at me.
It’s alright. I know my limits. I know what I should do, and what I shouldn’t. I haven’t lost myself.
Yet. I’m scared, sometimes. It… the void in which I see my visions is calling me. I’m getting scared. I think I may lose myself, and forget myself and Quackity and all the others.
What do I do?
~
That crossing out last time didn’t seem very successful, if my confrontation with Quackity was any indication. Anyway, I’m back with another Wingless vision.
This one was at a masquerade, a kind of ball. Everyone was wearing masks, and everyone seemed to be rich except for one. I don’t know why- I mean, I’d think the rich mingle with the rich and the poor mingle with the poor, from the distaste I’ve heard.
But the hierarchy doesn’t work like that in ℸ ̣ ᒷ∷∷ᔑ ╎⊣リ╎⚍ᒲ, so I digress. The main point is that the organizer of the party killed everyone? For this red crimson egg thing that I still don’t really understand?
It’s not the same red of the phoenixes. It’s something… worse. Evil. Corrupted.
It promises things that are not possible.
At least The Phoenix is brutally honest about what she can give and what she can’t. She may be one with the universe, but she can only bend the rules so much for her fledglings.
I do find it interesting, though, if someone else ever stumbles upon these words. Would that be thousands of years in the future? Or right after my death, when the flames that keep me alive eventually burn out?
Quackity tells me to not think like that. But it doesn’t change the fact that we’re both bound here, and we’re only alive because of the magic The Phoenix possesses.
I am grateful, though at the same time a little resentful.
Maybe I’m just ungrateful.
I wish there were some way for me and Quackity to go above to the lands of the other winged, too. Eret tries to tell us the stories of all of it- the green grass, the fake feuds that are ultimately just friends poking fun at each other, the blue sky- but it gets harder and harder to imagine.
I’ve long since forgotten what grass looks like.
But our wings were wrecked beyond repair. The Phoenix may be able to heal our wounds so that we won’t die if we were flown out- regift us with a fire that we lost while fighting, but we cannot fly outside of the City of Embers.
The Winged visions are getting darker. There is tension in the air whenever I visit that place, and the nameless phoenixes and other avariel from their flock are preparing themselves for war. I do not know what will be of them.
My memory gaps are becoming worse. I don’t like to think about it, but maybe Quackity is right- the problem isn’t going to go away by hiding from it.
It’s getting increasingly hard to navigate the ℸ ̣ ᒷ∷∷ᔑ ╎⊣リ╎⚍ᒲ. I’m starting to have difficulty distinguishing reality from my visions- sometimes, I blink and the home that’s always so full of fire is completely empty, save for six people.
And four of them aren’t even phoenixes.
The Phoenix is not… stingy, per se. She opens up her home to anyone who stumbles in with injuries, or anyone who’s looking for shelter of any kind. We offer a helping hand when needed. But she draws the line at letting anyone that isn’t a phoenix settle permanently in a land meant for the phoenixes.
In a way, it’s for their own good. We play around with the knowledge that we are all fire-resistant. I have no doubt that if a non-phoenix avariel were to settle in here, they would die within a month of burning or something else like asphyxiation from smoke.
That took me way too long to write.
But I don’t know. My job is to document these visions, not make sense of them. Though, not gonna lie, the Elders don’t really know what to make of these visions, either. And if The Phoenix knows anything, she’s not giving any indication of it.
Maybe we’ll never know. There’s never been a record of someone having Wingless visions.
And I forgot- at the end of that last dream, the vision transported me into that white castle with the white tree that I talked about. It did say not to talk about that castle, but I do not trust it as much as I do for the Phoenix. As vague as she is, she has saved my and Quackity’s lives more times than we can count.
I’m getting scared for myself. Truly scared. I forgot Foolish’s name the other day. My mind went completely blank, and I forgot who Foolish is as a person. He doesn’t blame me- of course he doesn’t. He’s kind. But I feel terrible, and nothing will ever change it.
Quackity says that I should stop seeing those visions. But I don’t have any control over it- my scrying ability is completely out of my control, now.
Even the winged visions.
I grow worried.
The void where I find the Wingless visions call to me. I felt so close to jumping into that portal, once. And whenever I look at myself in those visions, I see the wings- but they flicker in and out.
I couldn’t find a way to our shared soulscape, one day. I promised Quackity that I’d go, and I just- forgot. I forgot about it, and when I did remember, I didn’t know how to call upon that soul bond to get into that soulscape.
How could I forget? We’ve been bonded for years- decades, even. What’s wrong with me? What’s going on?
~
I’m getting more and more worried as time goes on, gonna be honest. I’ve got another vision, now- the people in this one all have these weird accents that I can’t really place. Kinda interesting, really. And there’s another one from last night, where someone else had founded a country.
It seems a little foolish, because they’re fighting for a potion empire. Or, as they like to call it, a “drug empire.” I don’t understand these people.
That one passes really quickly. Apparently, by the time my vision cuts off, it’s already been three months. I relived an entire war and three months in the span of a single night.
That’s new.
The normal scryer’s visions are completely normal. They only ever tell stories that happen in the present, and at most they tell the story of a day. Not months.
But then again, my scrying ability is anything but normal, if we haven’t established that already.
We had a Fallen attack the other day. A group of them, really. There were only thirty or forty of them, though, and they managed to break through the door.
Which shouldn’t be possible. The door is only for the phoenixes, and can only be opened by The Phoenix herself.
Unless something has happened to her.
She refuses to tell us if anything is impeding on her powers. Sometimes, I find that stupid- almost all of us rely on her to keep us alive. She gifted us with fire. She heals us when netherite touches us.
Why does she refuse?
Unless she’s getting weaker.
Quackity cut himself by accident, on the metal feathers in his wings, the other day. We stared and waited for the gash to mend itself- except it didn’t.
Something’s up.
The Fallen cannot attack us and survive- we made sure to keep them at bay. But I swear that I recognized one of the ones I’ve killed- except that isn’t possible. It shouldn’t be possible, because the Fallen can’t be reborn, right?
The Phoenix used to answer my questions when I asked them. Especially things of such gravity.
I don’t know what it says about our current predicament that she’s refusing to answer these ones.
The rumours are flying around, and the Elders have started to accept less and less people for counselling. Quackity tells me that they’re discussing the omens and forming contingency plans, for the worst of the worst.
But the worst of the worst is getting wiped out, permanently, with netherite, is it not?
Is the situation really so dire?
I’ve tried not to think too much about it. I am not an Elder, and I am not The Phoenix. I do not have much of a responsibility but to tell everyone if I have a particularly concerning vision.
There is frustration for some of them. The fact that the Fallen are attacking at all shouldn’t be possible- and yet it is. It doesn’t matter that the phoenix guards are easily able to kill them with a clean slice of the sword. The fact is that there is a threat to a sanctuary that’s supposed to be safe.
The phoenixes we sent to the yearly meeting between the kingdoms still haven’t returned, either. They were due back almost twelve hours ago.
Did something happen?
Or maybe I’m overreacting. The other scryers haven’t gotten any terrible visions yet. Their minds are still sharp, even though I’m losing it a little. The children are still playing around, and it’s entirely possible that the diplomatic group has just been delayed a little. And The Phoenix might just be in one of her moods. It has happened before.
Everything will be fine.
The void calls even more insistently. I have to hang on to my shared soulmate bond more often than not in my sleep, and I force myself to stay in our soulscape even though I would’ve once jumped at the possibility of having a vision.
I’m scared to explore those other stories I’ve been shown.
Quackity might be a little suspicious. He knows that I’m having difficulty remembering things, but I don’t tell him that sometimes, I feel like I’m going insane.
Like I’m losing myself.
Is that why I keep seeing the words “Don’t forget who you are?”
Something’s up.
~
The Fallen are attacking, more often.
It’s not a problem, really. But I don’t know- between that and my loss of control over my visions entirely, I’m scared.
I don’t have a grip over my mind anymore. Everything is a blur more often than not, and when I go to sleep, my mind takes me somewhere else that I can’t control. I’ve had more Wingless visions since then, but I honestly couldn’t care less anymore.
The Fallen are attacking.
They seem to be hellbent on destroying Her.
There is a tension in the air more often than not, now, in ℸ ̣ ᒷ∷∷ᔑ ╎⊣リ╎⚍ᒲ. The Fallen wield netherite- we do not know if the information that netherite can permanently kill us got leaked, or something, but it’s too much to not be a coincidence. Netherite is rarer than all other metals combined.
They wouldn’t try to gather so many netherite weapons if they didn’t know.
But what happened? The fact that netherite can permanently kill us is a closely guarded secret. The Phoenix wanted a way to keep us in check, and we agreed- there would always be the occasional phoenix that got too drunk on power. Netherite is useful.
But in the wrong hands, it would be a deadly weapon to us, and it would be a huge, huge problem if it were to be given to anyone who wants away with our entire race.
In a way, it’s an advantage. Netherite is our metal before it is the Fallen’s, but it doesn’t stop the fear from spreading in our home. People are getting scared. The Elders and scryers are tight-lipped, and my visions are becoming murky.
My memory is getting even worse.
The children are no longer as carefree as they were before, and the fire crystals in our caverns seem to be dimmer than they used to.
One of the Fallen begged for mercy, earlier today.
I hesitated too long. I’m lucky that Eret was nearby.
We are not overwhelmed. But I fear for the possibility that we can- because the netherite weapons are our bane as much as they are our strength, and though we are three hundred, it’s possible that the Fallen are so much more.
Some of the phoenixes that flew out to the yearly meeting between kingdoms never returned.
I don’t know what happened.
~
“Tommy?”
The phoenix in question sighed as he closed the journal that he had been reading. “Yeah?” He asked, turning around to see Ranboo standing in the shadows.
They stared at each other for a little while longer before Ranboo broke the silence. “You don’t have to feel the obligation to… like me, you know.”
Tommy ran a hand through his hair, at that. “Yeah?”
“I mean…” Ranboo muttered. “I’m half-Fallen, really.” He winced as Tommy flinched. “It’s okay if you want to stay away from me.”
“But you’re not truly a Fallen.” Tommy pointed out. “The Heart didn’t declare you a threat. And we know that the Fallen are always bent on destroying this place, though we don’t know why.”
Ranboo shrugged. “I know. I just… fear isn’t rational, Tommy.”
Tommy gave a smile, at that. “I know, dickhead. But as much as you’re a Fallen, you’re also someone who was forced into his current predicament. Really, Ranboo, I’m sure you’re fine. Just don’t break the trust, yeah?”
Ranboo swallowed. That was an easy enough promise to give. “Yeah.”
“Good enough for me.” Tommy grinned. “Come on, I need entertainment. I’m as bored as shit.”
Ranboo rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Tommy. “Aren’t you literally reading a journal right now?”
“I’ll admit, it’s quite interesting.” Tommy said, waving the pages around like they aren’t centuries or millennia old. “The phoenix who wrote it didn’t seem to know that he was scrying what had happened to me.”
“Scrying?” Ranboo asked, slowly.
“Yeah. It’s kind of like, visions.” Tommy said, arms gesturing wildly about. “You know, like, fortune-teller shit and all that? Except it’s real, and often they’re things that actually happened. While I was- a prisoner-” Ranboo winced, “-I would have visions of my family, sitting by my tombstone, or something like that. Their slices of life.”
Tommy tapped the cover of the faded journal meaningfully, a spiral of purple and green. “This dude, on the other hand, seemed to be having visions of places where you don’t have wings. Crazy shit. And more stuff that happened in our time.”
“But… that’s not possible.” Ranboo dragged out. “Velvet told me that you guys can only perceive what’s happening in the present.”
“This one seemed to be an exception.” Tommy shrugged. “I don’t know, the stuff confuses me. Not really my job to make sense of it- it would probably be Finn.”
Tommy’s face dropped at the mention of the other phoenix, and Ranboo immediately set to comfort him. “Hey, you’ll see them again.”
“Will I?” Tommy muttered, unlike his usually boisterous and loud personality. “I can’t even fucking fly, Ranboo. I can’t fly. I can’t leave the City of Embers.”
“Hey.” Ranboo said, gently, and Tommy turned around to look at him. “If what you’ve said is true, then your family will be fighting to see you again as soon as Puffy tells them that you’re alive. They’ll come for you. You’ll see them again, promise.”
Tommy snorted. “Don’t make promises you can’t guarantee, big man.”
“I can make the promise if I know that they’ll come for you.” Ranboo voiced, confidently. “You have the gift of a beautiful family. Trust them to come for you. Trust them to find their way to you.”
Tommy stared at him for a few beats of silence before he dragged a hand across his face. “Damn it, since when did you get all that wisdom?”
“You’re quite wise too, you know.” Ranboo said, conversationally.
Tommy choked on his spit. “ Wise? Me? Big man, I know I’m great and all, but wisdom- even I know that I lack that.”
“Maybe you do.” Ranboo conversed amusedly, and watched as Tommy choked again. “But your way of thinking has definitely evolved a little from your experiences. You seem like someone who makes stupid and impulsive decisions, and from your stories of your youth, that doesn’t seem to have changed- but at least you know to be smart about it.”
“Those two statements contradict, big man.” Tommy stated, dryly.
“You can be smart and stupid at the same time.” Ranboo spread out his arms. “Like me. Or Velvet and Ant. Or you, for instance.”
Tommy chortled. “Or Tubbo.”
“I have not met Tubbo.” Ranboo deadpanned. “But sure. Or Tubbo.”
Tommy ended up laughing, at that. “You sound so much like Technoblade.”
Ranboo blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah. Oh- god, wait, can you do a disbelieving ‘heh?’ for me?”
Ranboo scrunched up his face, and attempted to make the confused sound. It ended in Tommy’s howling laughter.
“Oh my gods, you sound so much like him- oh god, just wait until Techno meets you, this is going to be fuckin’ hilarious-”
Ranboo’s face reddened at that, and Velvet and Ant ended up poking their heads in the room just to make sure that Tommy was still breathing.
Something in Ranboo’s chest lifted at the sight of the boy laughing without a care in the world.
(It was far from the truth, but Ranboo knows that at least, they can pretend. They can pretend for a little while, until they’re forced to confront the reality of the world they live in, and their respective heritages- though that is a problem for another day.)
~
“And we’re here.” Puffy announced, landing in an ungraceful heap on the ground. Sam immediately moved to help her up, and she took his hand gratefully, pulling herself into her chair so that she could take off again, when they would fly into the little crevice that was the entrance to the City of Embers.
Wilbur squinted in the sun of the midmorning day. “I don’t see it. Is it camouflaged?”
Puffy laughed, a light and airy thing that Tubbo could barely hear over his own sea of thoughts. Because the chanting of Tommy, Tommy, tomMY- was back, full force.
The first thing he noticed was the absence of the burning of his soul bond. The first time they had been reunited, when Tommy had literally flown through the window to save the Antarctic Empire from the Fallen, the disc on his wrist had been beckoning him to get closer and stand beside his soulmate, after a month of separation.
The netherite band on his wrist prevented him from feeling anything at all.
But Tommy is alive, surely he is, because Puffy does not seem like one to lie, and- “Where is it?” Tubbo asked, desperately.
Innately, he could feel the pull of the ancestral home. But it was underground, which didn’t make sense. Unless…
Tommy told him of the cavern in which the phoenixes had lived in beforehand, and he remembers being told of spacious areas for him to learn to fly, and for the others to live in. Where he’d been taken to after he was saved.
Puffy looked at him with a knowing look. “You can feel it, can’t you? The pull of Home. Of The Heart. She calls to all phoenixes, you know.” She spread out her hands. “Take the leap of faith. Follow your instinct.”
Tubbo closed his eyes, breathed in, and tried to calm his racing heart. He felt around for the pulsing connection, the inherent part of being a phoenix. When he opened his eyes again, he was scanning the grass with intent.
He spotted the crevice.
It was both the pull of the ancestral home and the desire to see Tommy again that possessed him as he pushed past the others and leapt into the crevice. He ignored the shouts of “Tubbo!” behind him. He barely caught Puffy telling them to let him go, and took the leap of faith.
There was no room for him to spread out his wings, but Tubbo couldn’t care. He knew that where he had to go was underground, and he let gravity pull him towards home- towards his other half.
Falling through the crevice was terrifying, in a way. He could hear nothing but the wind- but it really wasn’t all that different from flying, was it? It’s just like flying. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that he was in the air, wings spread out, soaring high in the skies.
He felt at home.
Briefly, he wondered whether or not this is what Tommy felt like as he fell, when the Fallen let him go over a cavern of lava and fire.
A voice echoed through his head- The Heart, maybe, as Puffy called it. She had said that The Heart spoke to them, sometimes.
He could hear it. Maybe Dream would call him crazy, but it felt right. A presence that he never knew he missed filled some of the hollowness inside of him.
“Welcome home.”
The voice filled his head as he plummeted, and he felt the wind rushing past his ears. Before long, the hole widened open, and the burst of colour and flames and magic hit Tubbo like a tidal wave. It felt warm, it felt beautiful, and it felt right.
The crystals in the cave glittered and shimmered with the light that was cast upon them. There were houses- far more than the six that Puffy had said housed the four guardians, Tommy, and another avariel. Perhaps housing his ancestors- the other phoenixes, gifted with the same rebirth that he and Tommy had been gifted with, that had been wiped out and killed centuries ago.
They’d had a conversation, before leaving for the City. Niki had pulled them all aside and told them that Tommy was deaf- to which Wilbur stiffened and Tubbo shook in silent fury. Puffy had stood beside her, and confirmed it all.
She’d told them that Tommy wouldn’t tell him that he’s deaf. She’d told them to act like everything is normal, because that was what Tommy wanted from them. After all that, Tommy was too scared to show any weakness, despite the fact that no one would be there to take advantage of it.
The mere thought sent Tubbo into a kind of rage, but that was not important right now.
Because Tommy is alive, he’s breathing and his eyes are moving and though his wings are missing but he’s alive, and Tubbo sees the golden bee on the startled boy’s wrist flutter as he draws closer.
And for a moment, it was just the two of them, staring at each other across their ancestral home.
Tubbo snapped out of his shock soon enough. He started running to Tommy, and the other similarly rushed towards him, book forgotten and tossed behind him as another avariel squawked as he attempted to catch the fragile volume. They crashed into each other’s arms, and all Tubbo could think of was the way Tommy was shaking against him- sobbing, most definitely, and Tubbo wonders at the circumstances that would’ve pushed Tommy to openly be clingy, but he’s alive.
He’s alive. Tommy survived. He survived being captured by the Fallen a second time, after they had ripped out his wings and taken away his hearing and left him for dead. He’s alive, and there are tears on his shoulder, but Tubbo honestly couldn’t care less.
His arms squeezed tighter around Tommy as they sobbed together. Tubbo felt the empty space on Tommy’s back, and his heart twisted painfully at the thought.
They sank to the floor in a heap of tears and feathers.
Tubbo did not register the others flying in, or the exhilarated sighs of Puffy and Sam regaining control over their legs, arms and eyesight. He did not quite register Wilbur’s choked sob as the older brother rushed over and gathered them both in his arms, either, until he felt his warm embrace.
They stayed like that for a long time.
A very long time.
If Ranboo, Sam and Puffy all guided Finn, Bad and Skeppy to the library and the archives just to let the family have their moment, and the others followed willingly- well, that was their secret to know, and theirs to keep when the family inevitably untangled themselves and looked around at the empty cavern.