#in trying very hard not to be self deprecating and its like pulling slivers

[scaredpigeons]

Sunrise, Crystallize II: of sunsets and tears.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Zhongli x Fem!reader

SFW (there will be nsfw chapters and allusions to slight nsfw, but I will keep it separate so everyone may enjoy.)

Word Count: 3.9k

After feeling stuck for so long, who knew your life could evolve to have so much movement? Zhongli seems to make a very good teacher, and your small group of people you’re comfortable interacting with seems to be growing and growing by the day! Though you never thought you would have someone who considered you as a ‘dear friend’… you don’t think too hard about why his presence feels so comforting.

CW: reader has anxiety and low self esteem. Some self deprecating thoughts in this one, as well as a sliver of slightly suggestive thoughts. Its nothing crazy though. (Who hasn’t thought about Zhongli’s hands every now and then, eh?) reader starts training with a Polearm (author has no idea the proper techniques and forms for wielding a spear, so please forgive her.) reader cries like a blubbering little baby in this one and thats so real. I cry so hard when people show me kindness.

Authors Note: I find it really interesting and fun to try and incorporate game mechanics into fics. If its too much, doesn’t make any sense or you just don’t like it, then ignore it. We’ll only get a little bit more in the next chapter of Zhongli helping reader develop her skill and burst, but then i think that’ll be it. What’s endgame here? I have no clue. They’ll kiss, at some point, totally. Any ideas? Lol

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“When thinking about the uses of your vision, the possibilities are vast— confined only to the capabilities of the element and your own personal imagination. For example, plenty of Hydro users have implemented healing abilities into their vision usage, due to hydro’s innate ability to heal. But there are plenty of those who use hydro solely as an offensive element as well. 

On a similar note, Pyro is an element that is primarily used for offensive purposes, but there are plenty of those who choose to mold the element to suit supportive, defensive, or even healing purposes, despite its obvious affinity for destruction.” 

You twiddle with a pebble on the ground, unable to meet his eyes but soaking in his words all the same. 

“Geo has a natural affinity for defense usage, right? Due to its resilience against the other elements.” 

Zhongli makes an affirmative sound, which makes you look up at him from your spot on the ground. His smile is warm, making your cheeks flush and your eyes dart to the side. 

“Correct, very well said.” His praise made you even more flustered, and you ducked your head, playing with an invisible loose threat on your pants. 

“We are fortunate that you received a Geo vision, as I am very well acquainted with the element, and can help you answer any questions or concerns you may have.” There was a tone of amusement in his voice that you didn’t really understand, perhaps an inside joke? You knew he was a geo user, you’d seen his vision dangling from that decorative chain on his coat. 

It looked a little different than yours, but that was perhaps because it was older? You didn’t really pay close attention to visions before now, so you really had no idea. 

“What kind of role were you thinking you’d like to take on with your new power? Have you perhaps considered a weapon?” he asked. 

You really hadn’t thought about any of this. After Zhongli had given you the customary Liyue Vision holder, you’d simply tucked it in your pocket, not really wanting to advertise that you now had one. 

“What kind of weapon do you use?” You looked at his shoes, then glanced up to his eyes for a moment. 

He simply stepped back, and summoned a beautiful Polearm, almost pulling it from thin air. 

“Woah— will I be able to do that now?” You exclaimed, sitting up a bit straighter. 

He chuckled, a warm and deep thing that made your heart flutter with the desire to hear more of it. 

“Of course, would you like to try?” He asked, handing you the spear. 

You eyed the polearm warily. It looked to be worth more than your entire shop could make in a year, and incredibly dangerous. 

“Are you sure?” You said, standing up. 

Zhongli nodded, placing the polearm delicately in your waiting palms. It felt heavy, a little too imbalanced on the bladed side. You gripped it tightly, feeling a bit awkward. 

“How do I…?”

He smiled, placing a hand over his mouth as if to cover how wide it stretched, but you could still see it in the crinkle of his eyes. Did he find how you look holding such a massive weapon amusing? Well, you probably did look pretty silly. He cleared his throat before he continued. 

“Simply will it away, and it will listen. When you wish to bring it back, call it forth, and it shall come.” 

You quirked your brow, finding that explanation to be a bit too far fetched. You thrust your hand to the side, scrunching your face and concentrating very hard. 

“And… go away!” You said. The polearm disappeared from your grip, vaporizing into a little show of sparkles. Your eyes blew wide, and you looked around to see if it was some kind of trick. With no polearm in sight, you gaped at Zhongli, grinning wide at how simple it actually was. 

With his arms crossed, he nodded expectantly at you, and you took that as your instruction to bring it back. 

You shot your hand out beside you once more, closing your eyes and squeaking out a “Come back!” And suddenly its weight materialized into your palm once more, making you lean a bit at the sudden heft. 

“Holy Archons!” You cried out. “That's so cool!”  

Zhongli tilted his head, clearly quite entertained by your amazement, but you’d grown comfortable enough around him that you didn't really feel like he was picking on you anymore. 

“That is just one of many things you are capable of. Would you like to learn more?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, so in awe of this new world brought to you by such a tiny little orb. 

———————————————

After deliberating for some time about your choice of weaponry, (you chose the polearm, solely because Zhongli seemed to have a plethora of them, and offered to lend you a much smaller, less ornamental one) Zhongli started to go into detail about the uses of your vision.

”Obviously the possibilities are nearly endless, as I said before— but to better conserve your strength, it is best to choose two signature styles of use that you can practice and hone into something of an artform.

Your vision's power comes from within you, so if you blast it all away at once with a showy and overpowered move, you’re left with virtually no strength to continue on, which will leave most people in a rather precarious position.

This is why, in battle, most wielders will choose two signature moves, an elemental skill, and an elemental burst.”

Zhongli moved to stand further away from you, more towards the lake in the center of Mt. Aocang. You’d been a little worried about traveling up here, but he’d assured you that the Adepti of Jueyun Karst would not bother the two of you, and you had no reason to argue otherwise, so you followed dutifully. 

“An elemental skill—“ He crosses his arms, and a giant pillar of rock that radiates geo energy comes shooting out of the ground, nearly causing you to stumble back. “Is a move that should consume a minimal amount of your energy for maximum potential. You want to hone it to its best usage, and perfect it to benefit you in any situation.”

You regard the pillar with awe, feeling the geo energy sweeping a few feet outwards from where it protrudes from the ground. Taking a closer look, you run your hands along its surface, admiring the beautiful structure and the energy tingling beneath your fingertips. You think you see Zhongli shift a bit where he stands beside you, but when you turn to look, he is simply observing you with a neutral expression. 

“These will cause crystallize reactions to any element within their area of effect, creating micro shields for myself and any team members I may be traveling with. But because I have been honing this skill for a very long time, I have learned to alter it to better suit my needs.” 

Suddenly the tower of rock disappears, and Zhongli is encased in a swirling column of geo, glowing and pulsing around him. 

“Wow…” you say, stepping forward. “You’ve learned to create a shield without the use of a crystallize reaction?” 

“Not a difficult feat in itself, but the strength of the shield took me many years to hone.” He says, watching you with amused eyes. It truly seemed as though he found your hunger for knowledge and wonder at the world of visions very entertaining, and for once you didn’t feel ashamed to be expressing yourself so openly. 

“Can I… can I touch it?” You asked hesitantly. 

His eyes seemed to glimmer in the afternoon sunshine as he nodded, chuckling a bit. 

“You can take that polearm I gave you and test how it feels to strike at an opponent, if you’re so inclined.” 

Without really thinking, you circled him, running your fingertips along the wall of impenetrable energy surrounding him. 

You could feel the crackling geo resonating through your fingertips, meeting your own elemental energy in a tentative spark that shot shivers up your arms and down your spine. You’d never really focused on elemental energies before, but it was like now you could see it in everything, feel it course through your body like the blood in your veins. 

Even without interacting with any other vision users like this, you could instantly tell that Zhongli was incredibly powerful. The elemental energy surrounding him was almost blinding, and the crackle of his shield under your fingertips was like a gust of pure power being blown through your nervous system. 

“Is every person with a vision like this?” You murmured, knocking your knuckles against the shield and meeting pure resistance. 

“Like what?” You weren’t expecting him to answer you, you hadn’t even really realized you were speaking out loud. 

You stepped back, your face heating up. “Ah, I mean… your energy, it’s really— it’s really intense.” 

You looked up at him to watch him quirk a brow down at your words, which made you stammer and run your hands over your face in exasperation at yourself. 

“What I mean— I mean your Elemental energy. I’ve never… I’ve never really paid attention before, or maybe never saw it before I got my vision— but focusing on you now, it’s really… powerful.” You watched as the shield rotated around him in awe, the energy swirling and glowing in the sunlight. “It’s really beautiful.” 

The words left your mouth before you even thought to hold them back, and you felt the heat in your face travel up to your ears. 

“Beautiful?” Zhongli said, a hint of teasing in that smooth voice of his. 

You spluttered, and without thinking summoned your polearm, gripping the pole tightly in your hands, holding it in front of you defensively.

“That offer to whack it is still on the table, yes?” You stammered.

“Perhaps we should further discuss how you visualize the Elemental energy around us, yes? I’m very Intrigued about your—“ his tone really was teasing now, and you couldn’t handle another second of it or you’d explode. 

”AHBAHBAP—“ you blurted out, taking a step back to charge at him in your fluster. “Less talking, more whacking!” 

—————————————

Over the last few months, you seemed to be developing and adapting to new routines very quickly, whereas your life before Liyue felt so sedimentary, so stale and monotonous. 

Your new daily routines were busy, schedule packed and lively, forcing more social interaction on yourself than you’d had in years past. 

You would wake, make your way to the terrace to do your morning prayers, have tea with Madame Ping, wave good morning to Zhongli and Hu Tao as they opened up the funeral parlor before heading home to open the store. 

You weren’t sure about hiring some help with the shop, but Madame Ping had asked for a favor, so now one of her disciples, a little girl by the name of Yaoyao came by three times a week to help you tend to the greenhouse and greet customers. It was supposedly part of her training, though you weren’t really sure what she was training for. 

Her assistance did come in very handy though, and you weren’t complaining. the customers loved her, the plants loved her, and business was doing well enough that you could send her home with a decent little bag of mora at the end of the week, even though she would always try to refuse. It had taken you saying that you would be very upset to see her go unrewarded for all her hard work, and of course she didn’t want to do anything to make you sad. 

During those three day intervals, you would close up the storefront in the early evenings, entrusting the care of the greenhouse chores to little Yaoyao, even going as far as to get her a little key cut for the side entrance so she could lock up when she was finished. 

The reason? Zhongli had personally offered to train you more, help you hone your new power into usable skill. 

After his impromptu lesson in the mountains, you surely thought he would be done with you, only showing you the basics out of the goodness of his heart, so you didn’t make a fool of yourself or injure anyone around you. 

But no— he was taking three evenings out of his week to spar with you, and help you learn how to wield the power of geo. 

This week he chose Yaoguang Shoal as your location, most likely because last week you said it might be nice to train by the sea sometime. You hadn’t really thought he’d take much consideration into your words, seeing as he favored the more mountainous regions, but there you were anyway— the spray of salt and wind battering your skin as you laughed and kicked up sand under Zhongli’s watchful eye.  

After a few weeks of this, you were starting to gain a little more confidence, and you could tell that Zhongli was slowly increasing the pressure on you during sparring, each day his posture slightly more tense, his moves just a little faster than before. 

You parried his strike with a move you’d been trying to perfect since last week. You were successful, but you winced as an ache wracked through your elbow, sliding back and lowering your weapon to signal that you weren’t continuing. 

“Good!” Zhongli said as you parried the strike, but his gaze landed heavily on you as you rubbed your sore arm. “Though you’re still taking in too much force with your elbows and wrists, you’ll injure yourself if you keep that form.” 

You huffed, standing in position again, going through the motions of the move slowly like he taught you, but you could tell you were still screwing it up. 

Zhongli made his way closer as he watched your increasing frustration. He circled around you and watched you from behind for a moment. You weren’t exactly paying attention to him until you felt his presence extremely close— the heat radiating from him making the hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

”Here, my apologies, but may I touch you for a moment?” His voice rumbled behind you, making your cheeks flush. It was Zhongli— it was Zhongli. The question, no matter how suggestive your stupid brain wanted to perceive it, was nothing but innocent. It was Zhongli. It was innocent. 

“Yes.” You said, the word sounding a bit warbled in your fluster, but he leaned in anyways. 

“You're taking the force of each blow here—“ his hands reached around, touching your wrists gently where you held the spear in a loose defensive stance, diagonal in front of you. He moved his fingers slowly to cup his hands under your elbows, murmuring, “And here.” You could feel the warmth of his chest pressing against your back. 

He’s helping you visualize the faults in your form, nothing more. 

“Let the full strength of your arms catch the blows,” his index fingers tapped from the crook of the inside of your arm and dragged up for biceps to your shoulders. “Let it come here, and steady it—“ his hands suddenly left your shoulders and you nearly jumped as one hand placed firmly over your abdomen, the other pressing against your back in the same position. “Steady it here, in your core.” 

You felt your abdomen tighten on reflex, only half heartedly acknowledging the fact that his hands were so big that they nearly spanned the entirety of your stomach, from just below your breastband to what would most likely stretch past your navel if he spread his fingers wider. 

“Good, just like that.” He said as he felt your abdomen tense. 

He’s just helping you visualize the correct form, nothing more. Get your mind out of the gutter, you disgusting excuse for a human being. 

“You already carry your stance very well, your legs are always steady but you retain the fluidity to pivot and move without being too stiff, which is wonderful.”

His hands left you as he circled back in front of your gaze, and you found yourself missing their warmth for only a moment before you saw him ready his spear, taking an offensive stance. 

“We will do this as many times as you need to feel satisfied, so please do not push yourself. Breathe with the motions, focus on where the impact is going.” 

Your guts twisted up at his words, and if you could run into the ocean and disappear without looking like an idiot, you probably would. 

Shaking off your degenerate thoughts, you nodded, readying yourself as you prepared to try and use the advice he’d just so thoughtfully given you while you were off in celestia fantasizing about his hands. 

He moved, and so did you. He was kind enough to come at you with the same motions as before, so you could easily move with the same rhythm to focus on the parry itself. 

Both hands, firm grip. Watch the swing of the blade, brace— shoulders, biceps, core— push, follow through, and back!

You stepped back, eyes wide as you felt a pleasant ache in your muscles from being used, but no pain or stinging in your elbows or wrists. 

Zhongli smiled, twirling his pole arm around and readying himself once more. “Incredible, now again!” 

The next thirty minutes flew by in a flurry of clanging metal and heavy breaths, mostly your own. He certainly kept you on your toes, coming on the offensive before suddenly prompting you to attack, taking each of your clunky blows with practiced ease and barely a flutter of his lashes. 

It was during one of these switch ups, where you were on the offensive, when you worked up the nerve to ask a question that’d been eating at you for many weeks now. 

“Zhongli,” you said, striking at his pole arm and taking the reverb of his parry with a back step. “Why did you decide to train me?” 

“I’ve not formally trained someone in a very long time,” he said, gracefully side stepping a strike. “I rather enjoy it.”

”No,” you said, taking a cheap swipe at his feet, only to watch him anticipate the move in its entirety, jumping back and smiling at you like you’d just brought him a cup of tea. “Why did you decide to train me, of all people?” 

“I enjoy spending time with you.” He said simply, eyes glittering as you stumbled, stopping in your tracks before even attempting to strike again. 

You gaped at him, completely unbelieving. 

“What, is it so obscene to imagine I enjoy spending time with a dear friend?” 

“I didn’t t-think,” you sputtered, holding your spear in front of you. “I didn’t think that you…”

He gave you a teasing sort of frown, as if a little saddened by your words, and crossed his arms over his chest, letting his pole arm disappear in a little flutter of sparkles. 

“Come now, you think after sharing that many late night pots of tea with you, that I wouldn’t consider you a friend?” He clicked his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head. Reprimanding, teasing, in that poise way that he did, in that way that made you take it a little easier than if others were to do the same. “Should I be offended that you think so lowly of me?”

Your heart lurched, and you gasped out a quick “no, wait!’ As you let your spear disappear as well, running up to stand in front of him. 

“It’s.. it’s not anything that you did, it's just…” you look up at him, only meeting that gentle gaze that makes you feel so comfortable, it's so familiar, though you’ve spent so much time around him now that it shouldn’t seem odd, but his mere presence made you feel safe somehow, like you could tell him anything. 

You cringed, deciding to just come out and say it. 

“I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I have a— I have a habit of not thinking very highly of myself.” You looked down at your feet, kicking up the sand glimmering in the evening sunset, turning the pale grains a brilliant shade of orange in its glory. 

”I think a part of me always believed I was unworthy of being someone important to you— of being your friend.” 

You felt a gentle pressure at your chin, and raised your head to see Zhongli’s hand outstretched, tilting your gaze up to meet his own. 

It reminded you of the first time you ever saw him, how the sunrise brightened the warm hues of his entire being, making his eyes blaze like pools of liquid gold. 

The pink and purpling sunset over the ocean had the same effect, and the molten amber bore down on you with the weight of something untold— his gaze was so heavy. 

You found yourself thinking once more that he looked like royalty, like a deity, blessing the ground where he stood. He radiated power, that much you knew by now. 

“If anything, I feel as though I am unworthy of being someone so important to you,” he says, and your heart nearly topples out of your chest and into your shaking hands. 

“I know I cannot erase everything that troubles you, but please, never doubt yourself when it comes to me. I do nothing that I do not wish to do, spend my days with no one I do not wish to spend them with.”

You felt pressure behind your eyes, his face starting to blur and warp in the beautiful colors illuminating him. 

“In my core, I am a very selfish man, one might even say rather spoiled, stubborn as stone. No one will ever have the ability to force me to do anything I do not wholeheartedly wish to do. That is how I spend my days. Not out of charity, or pity, or bribery. Simply because I want to.” 

You’re sure you’re nearly vibrating now, eyes welling up with unshed tears as you soak in his words. The heat from his fingers still holding your chin. 

“Even if you still doubt yourself, I shall never give you a reason to doubt me. Do you understand?” 

You nodded, blinking away the fat tears and cringing as they rolled down your face. He clicked his tongue again, making a cooing sort of sound that one might make when consoling a crying child. Despite the way it made your cheeks burn, it was comforting nonetheless.

His hand left your face, and your shoulders slumped as you cried, too overwhelmed to be embarrassed any further. 

“Now, may I hold such a dear friend to comfort her?” 

You nodded again, wrapping your arms around his waist as he pulled you close, holding you tightly to his chest. A whisper of his lips pressed against the top of your head as he hushed you, his warm hands running across your back in soothing motions as he murmured encouragement and soothing little nothings. 

He smelled like the mountains even still, like amber and tea and safety. His embrace was so familiar, so warm, it soothed your worried heart and allowed you to just breathe in relief. He never wavered, never moved to let go, just let you take comfort from him until you were ready to be without it. 

You didn’t think you’d ever be ready. 

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Authors Note: send me asks with things you’d like to see from this series? I’m kinda forming the story as I go but I’d love to hear your thoughts :))))

[fortunately-bi]

Ugh....

[syndianites]

The After; The Athar: Chapter Two

Chapter 2/?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 [Here] - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

AO3: This Chapter - Full Fic

Summary: Post Season 2, non-Mianitian Compliant. Wag escorts Martha to Jordan's house and decides to have a day out with Sonja.

Relationships: Sparklington (end-game), Marthlington (temporarily), Sparkanite (Spark x Ianite) (past, mentioned), Motanite

Content Warnings: Death Mentions, Implied Depression, Implied PTSD, Self-Deprecation, Breaking up a Relationship (Marthlington)

AN: The stuff about the Cult of Athar in here is canon! It was written by the Wizards, but never delved into. I did my best to represent it as accurately as possible.

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 The duo had just started into Jerry’s Tree when they heard a call behind them. They turned to see Jordan hustling forward, an awkward smile on his face. Wag shared a look with Martha. Seems his suspicions had been correct.

 He’d have to ask Jordan about that.

 Jordan, meanwhile, had shuffled to a stop right in front of them. “Hey guys, glad I caught you.” He glanced between them. “What brings you to my abode?”

 “You were looking for me yesterday, right?” Martha starts. “Well, I do have some free time now, I figured I’d stop by to see what you needed.”

 He stopped for a moment. Hummed. “Oh!” Jordan jumped back in. “I wanted to talk to you about some godly related stuff. Spark’s been- uh, well, he’s been drilling in ‘how to be a perfect Ianite follower’ for-” Wag was amazed that neither of them reacted to the name anymore. Different goddess, of course, but that was still a festering wound. “- whatever reason, and I haven’t been able to escape him long enough to avoid the lecture. I honestly just want to talk to someone that’s more in the know-how that’s,” Jordan waved his hands, “not him. Give me another week of this and I might just turn from champion to missionary.”

 Martha huffed, but a smile snuck up onto her lips. “He’s not that bad, I’m sure. But yes, I do have some time to talk about ‘godly stuff’.” She turned to Wag, hesitating a moment. “I’ll see you later then, Wag.” She reached out a hand to delicately stroke a cheek.

 He gave what he hoped was a solid smile back. “Until then, love.” Wag took her hand, thumb stroking the back of it before he placed a parting kiss upon it. Reluctantly, he started to trail away, keeping her hand in his for as long as he could. When he was far enough, he offered Jordan a wave goodbye. Then he turned to walk back down the hill.

 Shit. Now he had to figure out how to break up with Martha.

 Yeah, these next few days aren’t going to be fun.

 But what to do now? The day had only just started and there wasn’t much use in going back to being a shut in when the sun had hardly started up the sky. Well, hanging with Jordan, or Martha, was out. Maybe Tom? Or Sonja or Tucker? It was fairly hard to keep track of Tom nowadays, though.

 Things were odd with Tom. Not between him and Tom, but with Tom in general. It felt like he was trying to balance who he was in this world and who he was in Ruxomar and not finding either. Like he was feeling pressured to merge the distant past with the recent past and come to terms with Dianite- both Dianites- and Mot.

 What was up with them, anyway? Last Wag had checked, Tom and Mot were fairly buddy buddy and Tom and Dianite were pretty chill, despite the bit of tension when Mot showed up and when Tom’s penchant dumbassery was making its rounds. Now, it seemed like Tom was trying to keep a good distance from them.

 Here he was getting distracted again. But damn if everyone didn’t have some issues skulking around. He wondered if Sonja or Tucker had something. What did they feel about the other Mianite? And his death?

 Ok, ok, not the point. What should he do now?

 Damn, did he really have no life outside of his tower that he was drawing such hard blanks?

 Fuck it, he’d swing around Sonja’s and ask if she wanted to go flower picking with him. Sorry, gather floral ingredients for potions. With how many people were ordering luck potions, he was going to be stuck finding four leaf clovers in all his free time.

 It seemed a pleasant stroll through town was in order, then. Maybe he’d pick up a muffin on the way. Perhaps a chocolate one. He would indulge in some more tea but he was looking for more of an on-the-go thing.

 He nodded to himself, making his way through the streets of the town to the quaint little bakery settled just past the docks. The baker was a kind, younger lady who had told him that her dream was to open a bakery, and an island with few inhabitants that barely anyone had ever been to was free real estate. To be fair, she wasn’t wrong. No one else had tried to make any competition and no one was complaining about her being here. In fact, there would probably be a lot of hooting and hollering if she left.

 When he wandered in the smell of warm bread welcomed him. Gretchen called a greeting from behind the counter, back turned to him as she kneaded a batch of dough. She was short, Wag towering over her, but she could take him out if she so pleased. Not just because she was finely muscled- she could give any seaman a run for their money- but also because a mere breeze could knock Wag and his gangly awkwardness over.

 “How do you do today, dearest Gretchen?” Wag surveyed the items currently on display. The croissants looked heavenly, and next to them sat three eclairs. They appeared to have been recently chilled as their chocolate icing had drops of condensation beading along the top. There was a colorful display of macarons on the rack besides those, as well as a row of various muffins.

 “Oh, I’m doing as well as one can when they wake at the crack of dawn,” Gretchen said over her shoulder, giving him a quick smile.

 “So feeling shitty and barely functional?” Wag mused over the muffins, trying to spy a chocolate one. Unfortunately, though he was quite awake, his brain was struggling to spot the difference between what could be a chocolate muffin or a blueberry muffin. Or a morning glory. He wrinkled his nose. Why would anyone put raisins in a muffin?

 Gretchen laughed. “Perhaps for a shut in, but I am feeling quite fine. It’s nice to watch the sunrise, y’know. Getting up early? Not so much. If not for the bakery I’d much prefer to sleep in.”

 Wag scoffed playfully. “Me, a shut in? Preposterous. I’ll have you know I am, at worst, a friendly, magical hermit. At best, I am a magnificent wizard that lives in a tower nearby that oh so graciously helps out the townsfolk.”

 “For a fee.” Gretchen was layering the dough now. If there weren't croissants sitting in front of him, Wag might say she was making those. Perhaps she was making danish pastries? It had been a while since he’d seen them on her display. It’d also been a while since he’d visited.

 “A wizard’s got to make a living somehow.” Wag picked up a muffin, closely inspecting it. It looked like it was chocolate. He hoped it was chocolate. But if it was blueberry he would live. Both were good, especially from here.

 “That he does.” She paused from her dough magic to take a look at him. “Blueberry muffin? Anything else?”

 Wag clicked his tongue. “Was hoping this was chocolate. But yes, just one muffin to go. I wasn’t really anticipating being awake so early, but Martha was home and she likes to get up early, and Jordan wanted to talk to her, and I,” he waved his hands, “wanted to spend some time with her? So I walked her to his house. Now, I’m standing here. Then heading to Sonja’s.”

 Yeah, it felt like he’d just recounted his entire life story to her. No, he was not going to acknowledge how painful that part of the conversation was to participate in.

 Gretchen raised an eyebrow, plucking the muffin from his hand, replacing it on the rack and grabbing one from farther back in the line. This one, now that he saw it, looked much more like a chocolate muffin than the other. Nice.

 “Funny you should mention Jordan.” It was Wag’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “He asked about you, oh, yesterday? The day before? About how you were doing. Seemed fairly concerned ‘bout ya. Asked me how you were doing when he came in for a treat.” She lifted a hand before Wag could interrupt. “He came here for the treat, but I guess he had you on the mind. This used to be one of your favorite places, I suppose it reminded him of you.”

 Well if that didn’t make Wag feel warm on the inside, what would? It was nice to feel remembered. But wait, was that why Jordan had come over yesterday, then? Except he had been looking for Martha.

 That put a frown back on his face. “He did swing by yesterday, but he asked for Martha. Are you sure he was concerned about me?”

 Gretchen rolled her eyes. “Yes. It was very obvious even if he tried to hide it. I did tell him that Martha would know more about how you were doing than I would, so that could be why he asked for her.” She held out her hand and Wag dutifully placed some copper coins in it. “Mr. Sparklez doesn’t seem like the best with confronting people about their feelings, so it wouldn’t surprise me that he’d see you and balk at the idea of bringing up his concerns with you directly. Going to Martha would be way easier for him than going to you. If he actually ever asks Martha about you at all.”

 Wag hummed in thought, ignoring the little ‘wuss’ Gretchen mutters under her breath in relation to Jordan. That much was true, Jordan was not much of a feelings guy. The dorky puns and trying hard to be the smart one guy? Yes. Feelings? You’d have better luck with Tom.

 Actually, Tom was pretty easy on the feelings side. Kind of. You’d have better luck with Tucker than Jordan. And Tucker was not the most emotional sort of man. There we go.

 “Well, when I left Martha with Jordan, he said he wanted to ask her about ‘godly stuff’. Do you think they’re actually talking about me?” Wag pulled a sliver off the top of his muffin and nibbled on it.

 Gretched leaned on the counter with a shrug, dropping the coins into her apron pocket. “Maybe. Who’s to say?” She eyed him up and down, a contemplative look coming into her eyes. “Didn’t you say you were heading to Sonja’s? That’s good, you could use more time out of the house. If you weren’t naturally gray I’d say you were getting pale. Hard to tell like this, but you are getting more of the ‘I’m your friendly neighborhood ghost’ type look than ‘I’m your charming, possibly demonic, friendly wizard’ type look. Take one for the road,” Gretchen reached over to pluck another muffin off the rack, passing it to Wag.

 “What if I just eat both myself?” Wag joked, taking the muffin in his other hand.

 Gretchen tsked. “Sorry, I only give freebies to the pretty ladies. You sir, are no pretty lady.”

 Wag gasped, “How dare you! My mother said I could be anything I wanted to be! If I want to be a pretty lady to get a free muffin, I’ll be a pretty lady!”

 She pushed his shoulder with a guffaw. “Oh sure, princess. If you ever come in dressed to the nines as the most gorgeous lady I’ve seen, I’ll give you a pretty muffin. Be warned,” Gretchen bat her eyelashes. “I have seen quite the stunning women before.”

 Wag rolled his eyes fondly, making for the door. “Just you watch, I’ll come blow your socks off!”

 With a wave, he departed. He twirled the other muffin in his hand. Free muffin for a pretty lady, huh?

 Wait, was Gretchen hitting on Sonja?

 ~~~

 Wag didn’t end up making it to Sonja and Tucker’s house. Rather, he found Sonja sitting near the shore just in front of it, staring up at Mianite’s temple. He didn’t take Sonja for much of a morning person, but it seemed like the temple would have a nice view during sunrise.

 Settling down next to her without a comment, he offered her the muffin. Sonja was surprised to see him, her eyes searching his face, but wordlessly took the muffin. They ate them in silence.

 The temple had changed a lot, but that was to be expected. It had been razed to the ocean floor, after all. But from what he had heard there had been a big effort in rebuilding it. Though the work would have taken years, it apparently had taken mere months.

 Mianite, according to word of mouth, hadn’t helped rebuild it at all. Rather, he didn’t expect anyone else to move to the island. Hell, neither did Dec, who had been making plans to move elsewhere. It made Wag wonder why the gods, why the priest himself, had shown up here. Why had the wizards? He drummed his fingers against his leg, dismissing the thought for another time.

 The wizards, before the heroes had even left, had refused to help. Wag remembered this well. They hadn’t wanted to step on Mianite’s toes, so to say, as it was a gift he had sent the world and had been crafted by the god’s own hand.

 Actually- again- Ianite had played a part in rebuilding it. It was almost strange to think about, the Goddess of Balance rebuilding the temple of another god. Except, it made sense. She didn’t rebuild it of her own power. Rather, she encouraged the common folk to rebuild it and helped a great deal along the way. She invited people from far off lands to come restore the temple and, with the assistance of Spark, set up the town that had been cultivated as a solid landmark. Ianite used the restoration of the temple as a way of connecting the island to the rest of the world.

 Though, when asked why she had chosen to help rebuild the temple, Ianite had responded, “It’s my way of thanking Mianite and his champions for helping to save me. It is the least I could do for such a tremendous task.”

 Maybe that’s why she rebuilt Jerry’s Tree, too. To thank Jordan. Or to honor him.

 Wag’s favorite part of this story- as it was only a story to him, he’d never had any real confirmation on this- was what Ianite had said: Mianite and his      champions. Plural. That meant Ianite acknowledged Sonja as Mianite’s loyal follower and champion just as much as Tucker. Sonja deserved it for all the effort she had put into this world and the last. She deserved a lot more than she got.

 “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Wag startled at the sound of Sonja’s voice. He turned to her, but she was looking at the temple still. She inclined her head towards it, saying nothing more.

 He had been looking at the temple without seeing it, he realized. Thinking too hard.

 She was right. The sun was still low in the sky, giving it a faintly fiery hue. It couldn't have been too long since sunrise, yet the color of dawn still remained. Perhaps that was just the effect of the ocean.

 But the effect made the temple light up. The eagle, standing mighty and proud once more, was burning in the light, smoldering and strong, wings raised up to the sky with an open, shrieking cry. It was the symbol of strength and sureness, of justice. The sun was a halo around it, blindingly bright.

 That’s how the future felt: burning and bright, impossible to grasp. But it was there.

 The rest of the temple held much of the same vigor. The majority of the original details were kept, but they were also exaggerated. The pillars had been built double the size, a subtle comment of ‘no matter how many times you knock us down we will return stronger’, the garden fuller and more organized, filled to the brim with blooming blossoms. The walls were filled with more gold than before, and more detail. Each column was carefully carved to perfection, but at this distance he couldn’t make all the details out. From what he remembered they ranged from majestic creatures running amok, to people dancing in celebration, to the retelling of great battles. The arches that served as the entrance had been decorated to the fullest, lavish silks and jewels hanging from their edges along the dutifully crafted gold lining.

 The best part were the guardians. They stood tall and proud, just as regal as before but now with more life, more color. Rather than the same straight white they had been they were adorned with golds and blues. Shimmering prismarine and lapis lazuli. Their swords were colored to appear like the finest, purest gold- though Wag knew that they weren’t made of real gold, as that would have been more than expensive. To top it all off, each featured a set of wings raised high to the sky, like the very eagle that sat in the middle of the temple.

 Another important detail was the fact that the back of the temple was open as well, likely for passing boats to see. On the other side stood dual lighthouses that burned bright in the night with mystical fire that would neither go out or be moved from their place. The area to drop prayers had been moved to the eagle’s feet and the hidden room supposedly not implemented. Supposedly.

 It was truly stunning. Where the change in Jerry’s Tree felt like a rebirth, this felt like getting beaten down only to get up again. Like healing. Growing.

 “It is.” He’d left her in silence long enough. “I still remember when it first appeared. It was glorious. Now?” Wag turns to her, maybe trying to make a point, maybe trying to say something deep, or just maybe just thinking out loud. “After being destroyed? It’s come back better.”

 Damn, who the hell turned on the philosophy today? Next thing you know he’ll be wondering aloud what existence is and if there is a purpose to life.

 Fuck that shit.

 Isn’t this the exact thing that had been haunting him as he stowed away in his tower? His thoughts falling over themselves to derive meaning out of every little thing that’s changed? To make sense of it? The temple looks better because it's not a pile of rubble. Jerry’s Tree is different because it was practically a pile of ash before. Why does this all need meaning?

 Sonja seemed to share his sentiment. She laughed at him. “Hey now, that’s trying to be too deep for so early in the morning. Come back better? Ha. It's just,” she pauses, giving it a wistful glance before shaking her head. “Different.”

 Wag nods. “It is. It all is. Feels like everything’s changing, like we got plopped in a world just adjacent to ours.”

 “Too deep!” Sonja decreed. Standing up, she brushed the back of her legs free of stray grass and sand. “Things are going to change and that’s that. I wasn’t expecting the world to wait on us, and it didn’t. That just means we have to catch up or get left in the dust.”

 “Who’s too deep?” Wag chuckled to himself, taking the hand Sonja offered him.

 “Alright, enough sitting around.” She sent a sly smile over to him after she jammed the rest of her muffin in her mouth. Wag watched in amusement as she chewed hastily, tried not to choke, and spluttered a little as some went down the wrong hatch.

 Recovering fast, she gives him a pained grin. “What brings Mr. Tower Wizard out of the lair today? Something good, I hope.” She poked him in the ribs teasingly.

 “Well,” Wag starts, ignoring the dig, “Martha happened to be home last night and I had the pleasure of walking her over to Jordan’s to chat about something. Which is why I am both awake before lunch and currently standing outside. I figured it’d been a while since I bothered you, so here I am, bothering you.” He finished with a wink.

 Sonja frowned for a moment, focusing on something he said, before deciding to let it go. For now, at least. Knowing her, she’d find a way to bring it up later. Wag wasn’t quite looking forward to whatever she had latched onto.

 Filling the silence, Wag added, “I was thinking we could go plant hunting. Specifically for four leaf clovers, but also for any other potentially useful plants. You know, for potions.”

 He tried for a smile while Sonja looked him over. Her eyebrows rose. “You go plant hunting in that? Your typical robes and all? It’s, like, the middle of spring.”

 Wag shrugged. “It’s not that big of a difference. Just gets the cloak a bit dirty.”

 She scoffed. “Just gets the cloak a bit dirty,” Sonja muttered. “I bet you don’t even bring any food or water with you, do you?”

 He looked to the side. “Of course I do!” That wasn’t a lie. He always brought at least a snack and a water skin. He wasn’t that stupid.

 “I’ll believe you, for now.” She assessed her own outfit. Her typical hoodie over a white t-shirt, some lounge pants, and bare feet. “I, for one, need to get dressed. I would recommend,” she drew out the last word, giving him a look, “That you change into something more suitable for romping around the countryside. I won't force you to, but I won't be helping you if you get hot and sweaty and pass out like an idiot.”

 He wanted to retort that he wouldn’t. That he was a wizard with powers that came close to the gods’ themselves. That weather was no issue for him.

 But it had been in Ruxomar. The trip to Urulu had been sweltering. The Nether felt like it had been trying to slowly boil him alive. Whenever he’d come out of water, clothes damp as a rain shower, he’d felt frigid.

 It still felt like he was in Ruxomar, powerless and startlingly mortal.

 He bit his tongue.

 Instead he shook his head, and started to wander back to his tower. He stopped as Sonja called after him. “Meet right here after you get dressed. I’ll round up some food and shit and then we can leave.” She turned to head back into her house. “If you thought I was going to trek up to your tower up in the sky you were wrong!” Then she shuffled up the hill with a laugh.

 ~~~

 They convened later at the shore as told. Sonja looked at Wag with a little glee, having convinced him to actually change.

 Athar knows how long it’d been since he’d changed.

 … why did he swear on Athar’s name anyway? He helped kill him. Shouldn’t he swear on his own name? Wag shrugged mentally to himself. Better to swear on a dead guy's name than his own.

 Anyway. Sidetrack.

 Wag, instead of his usual cloak, was in surprisingly adventure-ready getup. Long sleeve hooded shirt- Sonja rolled her eyes at the hood- thick, but breathable, pants, and hiking boots. Actual hiking boots. That spoke volumes about how much Wag had tried to look like he knew what he was doing. Oh, and he had one of those handy dandy belt satchels? Utility belts? A belt that had neat pouches on it for carrying flowers and clovers. Hell yeah.

 Sonja, on the other hand, had dressed much more like her usual outfit. To be fair, though, her usual outfit was both light and what she fought literal battles in. However, instead of short-shorts she had knee-length shorts. Her socks fit nicely underneath. Somewhere along the line she’d found black, fingerless gloves as well. Wag had a sneaking suspicion that she’d stolen them from Tucker.

 “Alright, now that we’re all ready to go-” Sonja made a point of jostling the backpack she had slung over her shoulders, likely filled with food and drinks she had raided from her own kitchen,”-we can commence our dainty flower picking session. If you don’t find me the biggest, bluest flower the world has ever seen to leave for Mianite then this trip is a failure.”

 Wag nods sagely. “It will be the most magical of flowers ever seen.” With a sweep of his arm, he motions for Sonja to lead the charge into the wilderness. Which wilderness? The Wilderness.

 Basically they were going to go wander around out past the old FyreUK Castle. Why there? Where Wag has to look at the castle and remember everything that used to be? Easy: there’s a lingering magic that lurks about the castle that makes it more likely for magical flora to sprout and grow. Also because no one goes over there.

 Mostly because no one goes over there.

 It took them roughly a half hour of trailing up and down hills, through dry grass and loose dirt, and a few quick hops through water to get to the Castle. Good old FyreUK HQ. Still standing.

 They were on the bridge, stopping to take a rest. Wag took a sweeping glance of the Castle and then looked away. Sonja tactfully didn’t ask about it. Instead, she waited while Wag poked around the trees sitting in the circle part of the bridge, watching him prod at the vines and undergrowth that had gathered there over the years. At one point he took out a pair of clippers, untangled a flowering vine from one of the tree’s branches, and politely snipped part of it off and curled it into a pocket.

 Then they were off again, back down the bridge and further into the country. Not too much further, actually. The end of the bridge was just a hop, skip, and jump away from an oak forest, which was a breath of fresh air compared to the endless savanna and desert motif of the island. It was also right next to a nice little plains area.

 Which made it perfect for Wag’s plans. Plains for the clovers and cool flowers, the forest for any other interesting stuff. He remembered chilling there in between building sessions for FryeUK HQ itself. It was always much cooler than the area around it.

 “Well, darling dearest, here we are.” Wag gave a little twirl. “Here we shall find you the most magical of flowers for your pretty, pretty princess, Mianite himself. And maybe one for his maid, Tucker.”

 “Ha!” Sonja turns her head away to snicker to herself. “If anything his fairest maid should be giving me flowers!” Her laughter dropped into a small, wistful smile. “Maybe I will.”

 Wag gave her a description of some of the regular flowers and plants that he normally went for, then sauntered off into the woods.

 Classy.

 Sonja followed with a fond eye roll, eyeing flowers as they passed. True to Wag’s suspicions, -which weren’t suspicions so much as things he already knew from before, but who was keeping track?- there were some strange, magical flora laying about. Not magical in the ‘consume it to get temporary fire powers way’, but more magical in the ‘these colors aren’t something flowers can pull off on their own’ or ‘this shouldn’t ever have been able to get this big’. Like if they were subject to radiation, except this world had no concept of yellorium as far as he knew.

 The first thing Wag collected was something of a marvel. Not because it was beautiful, but because it was weird. It looked like a flower. But instead of growing leaves along the stem, it grew petals. They were a soft pink, like the flush of skin, and soft to the touch. Not a trace of leaves remained on the flower. For all intents and purposes, it looked like a failed daisy. Or a successful one?

 There weren’t many magical flowers, in all honesty. For all the magic the wizards had done, most of it was just absorbed into the earth as per normal. The world was teeming with magic, but that was what made it function. What made the gods gods was the fact that they could use this magic. Or, rather, that they, too, were filled with it.

 It showed up in a lot of ways. Witches, potions, the way you could grow anything from any environment you wanted to, so as long as you gave it what it needed. Well, that last one wasn’t impossible, but what other world could you go to a desert, with minimal rain and the sweltering sun, and plant something that relies on constant water to thrive and have it live for months upon months?

 He was getting sidetracked again.

 The point was, this was just a small, insignificant place where a little bit of magic overflowed because of the proximity to the wizards. It used to have more weird things happen, but now the wizards were gone and Wag was… yeah. So he’d sometimes stumble upon a flower with a gradient from purple to red and have to puzzle out whether that was a normal mutation or a magical one. Then the flower would shimmer and the gradient would shift and he’d decide, yeah, that      was    a magical mutation, he was right!

 Flowers were weird on their own, what could he say?

 His favorite were the cornflowers. Not because they were beautiful- they were!- but because, by some manner of magic, they migrated over here on their own. You couldn’t find them in the savannah, or the desert, or even near the coastline. But here, in this tiny blip of forest and plains, they surfaced. He had half a mind to wonder if they weren’t a result of two different flowers populating, then the offspring mutating. Cornflowers, however, were a real flower. They just shouldn’t be real here. Which was cool.

 So maybe Wag had become something of a flower nut over the past few weeks. Who was going to judge him, the gods? Well, fuck them! Not literally, though.

 The cornflowers before him, however, were something special. From what he knew, they weren’t supposed to be this big, nor were they supposed to grow in such small units. They should be something more like a bush, with multiple stalks sprouting out and huddled together. The ones he found, Sonja poking at some poppies behind him, were very much trying to act like tulips. Less group-y and more individual.

 He suspected magic was involved.

 The buds alone were about the size of his palm, and those that had flowered were almost bigger than his hand! They were marvelous. And blue!

 Wag snuck a look at Sonja, who was blissfully unaware of his sudden bout of mischief. He plucked a stalk- which was as thick as a pencil- and twisted around to carefully tickle the tip of her tail with the broken end of the stem. She didn’t notice, face scrunched up in thought as she appeared to be trying to decide if the poppies were out of the ordinary or not. They weren’t. Just good ole regular poppies.

 Fighting back a snicker, he gently and slowly trailed the stem upward. It took the stem going from white to orange fur for Sonja to suddenly startle, ears shooting up and back going ramrod straight. She took a swipe at the flower, but Wag hurried out of the way. Clutching the poor, innocent cornflower to his chest, he mock gasped.

 “Sonja! You almost destroyed the biggest, bluest flower I’ve ever seen!” He brought the back of his hand to his forehead. “Could you imagine if you had? We’d have to return with it crushed! Or worse.” Wag’s eyes widened comically. His voice dropped to a stage whisper. “The second biggest, most bluest flower.”

 She gasped in shock. Her voice was but a mutter. “No, we can’t have that. Imagine! Bringing home something second best! T'would be not only a shame, but a disrespect to his name. I could never.”

 Wag nodded sagely. He cradled the blossom between his hands, reverently offering it up to Sonja. “Treat it well. Though it may seem insignificant in the grand scheme of your life, it holds value untold. The gods themselves tremble beneath its weight, the tremors of the earth quake for its life. Hold onto this and you hold onto what men are willing to go to war for.”

 Sonja delicately grasped its stem, a serious look on her face. “I will, O’ great wizard. I will guard this to my last breath, travel across a thousand seas, five hundred miles of land, to bequeath this to the god of which I hold most dear.”

 Her lips twitched as she tried to keep her laughter in. “Ianite, of course.”

 Wag, however, burst out laughing. “Oh yes, the god you follow, Ianite herself. Mianite who?”

 Facade breaking, Sonja joined in the laughter. Placing the flower down, she held onto her stomach, curling around it. Wag tried not to fall over from his dramatic kneel.

 They took a second to calm down, smiles still firm on their faces.

 “But yes, this will be satisfactory as a gift to Mianite.” Sonja appraised it, looking past him to eye the bush it came from. “What are these flowers? I don’t think I’ve seen them before.” She looked back to Wag. “And I dabbled in Botania in the other realm.”

 Wag stood up, turning his attention back to the flora. “Cornflowers. They live in more temperate climates; plains, some forests, and such. It’s strange to have found them here, all things considered.” He gestures around vaguely. “We do live in a mostly savanna environment. I’m not even sure how they made it to this little patch of paradise, never mind the fact that this area exists as it does.”

 He shrugs. “It is what it is. They are rather pretty. They are most typically associated with hope, devotion, and remembrance.”

 “And,” He places a hand on his heart, “According to some good ol’ folk tales, men in love would carry them around. If the color of the flower faded quickly, it meant their love was not returned. So,” Wag picked it back up, “If you wanted to listen to superstition, if the color lasts that means Mianite cares a whole lot about you.”

 Sonja scoffed. “Oh please, he is far too regal and orderly to fancy anyone, never mind a human. Or, well,” she flicks her tail, “someone mostly human.”

 “Imagine if he actually did, though! Tucker would be in for quite the competition. Champion of Mianite? Try Queen of Mianite.” Wag winked, holding the flower back out to her.

 Except it seemed that was the wrong thing to say.

 She held her breath, wilting before him “Yeah,” Sonja mumbled at the flower, “Tucker would really be in for it.”

 There was a pause.

 Wag eased back down towards the ground, getting comfortable. He tugged on Sonja’s sleeve to bring her down as well. Setting the flower aside, he pondered his next words. If he was going to pull out any wisdom, it better be now.

 “Things aren’t going too great between you two, are they?” Wag started, giving her the option to push the conversation aside.

 Sonja was silent for a second. Her ears flicked back and forth, agitated. Then she let out a sigh, deep and heavy.

 “No.”

 Wag nodded slowly. “It’d help to talk about it.”

 He wanted to help, wanted to know more, but he didn’t want to press. He wouldn’t dare push the boundaries when it felt like he was already on the brink of losing someone else he cared about. A two for two special on failing relationships would hurt.

 Biting the inside of his cheek, he reminded himself that this was about Sonja. Not his life problems. Hers!

 “It’s…” she cast her eyes around them. “Kinda heavy. Would you be ok hearing about it? I don’t want to bring your mood down.”

 Wag gently bumped shoulders with her. “Of course. I’m all ears if you ever need it.”

 Sonja opted for a smile, though it fell more towards a grimace. “Thanks.”

 She went quiet again. Wag could see the thoughts churning in her head, gears clicking and turning along.

 “I was.” She stopped. Started again. “I used to be.” Biting her lip, she took a breath. “There was a brief moment of time that I worked for the Shadows.”

 Oh.

 Oh shit.

 She couldn't meet his eyes, which is probably a good thing because he didn’t know what to say. ‘Sorry that you used to work for the people who wanted to kill all the gods and take over the world, or some stupid thing like that’? ‘Yikes’?

 ‘Cause yikes.

 “That’s, well, not what I was expecting.” He suppressed the urge to crack a joke. “And yeah, that’s pretty heavy.”

 Sonja drooped a little beside him, and he had to rush in the rest of his words.

 “But that’s not the end of the world. You aren’t working for them anymore, and even if you were you have been my friend and helped save so many people that I feel that it wouldn’t matter. Your actions say more about your character than who you follow does.” He hoped that curbed her fear and doubt, if only for a moment. And, because he couldn’t help himself, he added, “Hey, look at Tom. He’s a little chaos rat who followed a real evil guy and we still love him. The standards can’t get lower than that.”

 She huffed, and Wag counted that as a win.

 She took a peek at him. “You took that a lot better than Tucker did.”

 Suddenly, it clicks. She told Tucker, the ultimate devotee of Mianite, who had been willing to follow an evil version of his god just because he had the same name as his actual god. Tucker, who held strong to his beliefs and only turned on the Other Mianite when he went too far. Tucker, who’s devotion to Mianite came after little else, if after anything at all.

 Tucker would not only have been appalled that she faltered in her devotion to Mianite, but felt down right betrayed that she would work for someone who wanted to kill his god.  

 Tucker wasn’t Tom. He wasn’t willing to work for a god that was near unanimously seen as chaotic, destructive, and evil. But he would also be easily blinded by the misdeeds of his god after seeing only the good in him for so long. He wouldn’t kill his god for his friends, he wouldn’t save his friends from his god. If Mianite told him to kill, he would.

 He had killed the Ianitas under the Other Mianite’s command.

 So Sonja, regardless of how much he loved her, telling him she had been part of the Shadows?

 Wag could only imagine his reaction.

 Instead of making much comment on Tucker, Wag offered her a smile. “The Shadows don’t mean as much to me.” That got her to look up. “I’m- I was a wizard, remember?”

 Meeting her eyes, he saw the start of understanding. Then it struck him- he never told her how he became a wizard. “Sonja.” It was his turn to look away. “Do you know about the Cult of Athar?”

 She mouthed the words, face scrunching up. Silently, she shook her head. “The Cult of Athar was formed in the name of Athar, who was a god. Or close to one. They weren’t sure of that, at the time they formed the Cult, but he was. Instead, they thought he was a godly power that existed and was given to those who were worthy. In a way, they weren’t wrong.”

 “Was?” Already she was picking up on the ending.

 “We’ll get to that.” Wag picked at the grass in front of him. “The Cult was made of four mortal people. They studied, they trained, they crafted, they worked their assess off to get a glimpse of the Athar. Nothing worked.”

 Sonja nodded, eyes searching Wag’s face. Connecting dots. Her gaze lingered on his dark skin and endless tears of blood. It wouldn’t be long before she pieced it together.

 “One day, they found an ancient scroll.” Sonja scoffed at this detail. “Look, I know it’s cliche but this is my story I’m telling and you will suffer through any cliche moments in it. I will add a magical girl transformation scene in here just to spite you.” They held each other’s gaze for a moment.

 Then both burst out laughing. With a fond shake of her head, Sonja shoved him gently. “Who’s to say you won't anyway?”

 With a mock offended gasp, Wag dramatically clutched his heart. “How could you. I guess you don’t want the story of this freaky, weird cult of absolute dorks.”

 “No, no, I do. Please continue, Mr. Extravagant Storyteller.”

 Holding back a smile, Wag started back up. “In this scroll was a ritual. According to the scroll, if you performed the ritual you could summon down the god that possessed the power of Athar- who was actually called Athar so really calling the ‘godly power’ Athar was redundant. By calling him down you could duel him for the right to hold that power and use it yourself.”

 He trailed off now. It seemed, now of all times, that the reality of what he had lost sunk in. “By defeating Athar, who was a selfish, greedy god, they themselves could become gods among mortals. But they vowed to be benevolent, loving gods. Gods who would help humanity unlike that who came before them. They wanted to make a change in the world, to help build it up in the name of peace and prosperity.”

 “So they killed him?”

 Wag nodded.

 “You were one of them, weren’t you?” Sonja pressed gently. “And the rest of the wizards, too?”

 He nodded again.

 When he made no further comment, she spoke again. “I always wondered how you guys became wizards. I just figured you guys were born from, I don’t know, dragons or something. Something badass like that. Or maybe just one day you guys popped into existence all like, ‘Golly gee, there’s an open plot of land here, and I sure do feel like making something. You guys want to build? I want to build.’”

 Wag laughed despite himself. “I wish we were dragons. That’d be so much cooler than waltzing up to a god and telling him you’d be better at his job.”

 “No, I think that’s still pretty badass.” She slowly leaned over to rest on his shoulder.

 The sun was just starting to fall from its highest peak, making it just past noon. They still had a whole day ahead of them, if they pleased. But there was something settling about sitting here, with a friend, letting your secrets loose.

 “The point is,” Wag rested his head on hers, “That I’ve actually killed a god. I formed a cult with the intent of becoming godlike. You joining the Shadows? For whatever reason? I’m not that phased. Sure, the Shadows wanted to kill all the gods, even the nice ones, but I’m not about to go cherry picking which gods can and cannot live. You guys didn’t kill Dianite until he almost killed Ianite. Eye for an eye, y’know?”

 They were silent after that. Just sitting there, looking out into the mix and blend of savanna, plains, and desert. This didn’t fix anything for Sonja, he knew, but at the very least she knew she had an ally, a friend through all of this.

 “Thank you,” Sonja blurted. “It’s. I feel better knowing someone won’t ostracise me for my past.”

 “No one is going to ostracize you!” Rolling his eyes, Wag turned to look at her. “And if they do they’re a bitch and you didn’t need them in the first place.”

 “I don’t know. Tucker was really upset. I think I’ve burned any relationship we had.” She pulled her legs up to wrap her arms around. “I’m afraid that he won’t even be able to look at me. What would Jordan think? What would Tom? Or Dec or Champ? What would the gods?”

 Wag wrapped an arm around her. “It’s going to be a shock, for sure.”

 But the thing was, she was still their friend.

 “Jordan will take it with suspicion and unease, which is usual for him. But, for all that he will be wary, he will still be your friend. Honestly?” He squeezed her arm. “Your situation isn’t new to us, not exactly.”

 An ear flicked against his cheek. “What do you mean?”

 “Well,” Wag blew on it and it flicked again, “There’s Tom’s whole thing.”

 She lifted her head at this. A frown tugged at her lips. “What? What do you mean by that?”

 Ah, Wag had a feeling that she hadn’t thought about this.

 “Tom was the loyal champion of this world’s Dianite.” He was trying to lead her into the connection. It’d be easier for her to relate if she figured it out on her own.

 “So?”

 However, that meant she had to figure it out.

 “I suppose it’s a little harder to see from your perspective. Tom, the friend you guys all love despite his love of chaos, stealing, and murder,” He stressed the murder part, “was the champion of the god you had to kill to stop from killing Ianite.”

 Sonja blinked at him.

 Maybe it wasn’t as obvious as he thought.

 “Tom was loyal to Dianite above all else. He’d kill for him, he’d die for him, he was practically a lapdog at points, eagerly wanting to please him. Even when he failed him and was punished.” Wag shook his head fondly. “He would have killed Ianite if Dianite asked. He would have killed Ianite.”

 Tom would have done a lot of things for Dianite. The Shadows wanted to recruit him for his burning loyalty to who he followed and his willingness to kill and destroy.

 It was starting to click in Sonja’s head. Her frown became less confused and more thoughtful.

 “Maybe it was hard to see, since you were much closer to him than I was at the time, but Tom was set against all of you. Yet he still wanted to be your friend. He still wanted the best for you- when it didn’t involve him stopping his own chaos and fun- because he cared about you guys. In fact, he repeatedly stole from you and killed you, and he’s still your friend.”

 She was there. So, so close. Right on the edge of a breakthrough.

 “But Tom was,” she waved a hand, “Tom.”

 And there it was. The thing that she held her back. The thing that pulled at her conscious in this whole debacle.

 “So?” Wag wasn’t going to pull any punches. “Why are you holding him to a different standard than yourself? If he gets a pass, if he can follow someone who’s intent was destruction and death, just like the Shadow’s was, in a way, why can’t you?”

 Sonja was silent. She opened her mouth. Then closed it. Her eyes went wide.

 Gently, he squeezed her shoulder. “Jordan is still friends with Tom. Tucker is still friends with Tom. They both suffered at his hands, but they’re still friends. They still care about him. Just because you served, for some brief time, an entity that was just as evil as Dianite had been, at one point, doesn’t mean they’ll stop caring about you.”

 “What about Tom, then?” She straightened up, something stirring in her eyes. “What would he think?”

 Wag held back a laugh. “He wouldn’t care? Remember Nadeshot? Remember Cronus? He was friends with both.” Sonja gave him a look. “Oh come one, this one should have been obvious. Nadeshot told Tom he joined the Shadows, and what did Tom do? He had the us- the wizards- build him a fucking castle. The last person who would give a shit about you being part of the Shadows- having used to be part of- would be Tom!”

 Sure, she looked like she was about to punch him, but it was a little ridiculous to think that Tom would give a shit about something like that.

 Wag turned his head away. “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t be laughing. This is a very serious situation and I should try my best to stay serious.”

 “Yeah, you should.” Sonja gave him a light punch to the arm, “Asshole.”

 “But the thing is, we’re still going to be here for you. We’ve been to a whole other world, we fell through the void together. You’ve had our backs from day one. We’ll always have yours.” He ended with a gentle smile.

 Sonja settled back down, head on his shoulder once more. “That does make me feel a little better. But things won’t be the same. Nothing will, really.”

 That was true. They would probably look at her different, in a new light. They’d reconsider some things, rethink what image they had of her. But at the end of the day, they’d still be together.

 As Wag set his head back down atop hers, she whispered, “I guess things haven’t really been the same in a while.”

[kneekeyta]

So, idk I just wrote this quickly. It’s…melancholy..I guess, but with a hopeful ending. Also I didn’t want to make this super long so I left a lot of it up to your own imagination to fill in what happened, Its mentioned briefly and well, yeah. Some end notes also.

only tagging @mmfdfanfic cos I’m trash. lol. sorry xx

 maybe, one day you’ll call me

He’s tucked away in a corner, listening to the steady pattering of rain against the window he’s sat by. It’s dimly lit inside, mostly due to the gloominess outside. The small bulbs that hang from the ceiling over each table were of low wattage, and of course the one hovering above the table he picked, was flickering in and out. He would have laughed had he found the energy as it seemed so fitting.

Fitting that he too was trying to stay alit, to not burn out, but figured it was only a matter of time until he’d burned out completely. And even if he did, when he did, he knew that sooner or later he’d spark again, at least he had hoped.

Everything sort of paused for a moment, he no longer heard the rain, or the soft bustling about of tea cups and kettles boiling. It all sounded muffled and distant and like it was actually him that paused and everything else around him kept going, kept living, and, well, that’s how he knew she was here. She always had the effect on him.

When the chair in front of him scrapped back, everything sped up again, the rain was pounding harder and it seemed a wind kicked up some. There were distant murmurs from the other patrons, and then finally a small, distant, “Hi, Finn.” She was right in front of him but she couldn’t have sounded further away.

That’s when he always knew, they could be sitting next to each other, but it’d feel like she was a million miles away and he hated missing her while sitting right next to her.

“Alright?” he mustered up after a moment.

“Yeah, you?”

He shrugged, whilst studying his folded hands. There was still some dry blood on his thumb from when he was biting it earlier that morning. An awful nervous habit he was never quite able to kick, it was a wonder how he had any nails at all if he’s honest.

“Thanks for coming,” she mumbles.

If he were to look up he knows her eyes would be big, almost wild looking, yet, sad and shiny and well, that was one of many reason he refused to look at her.

He shrugs in response, because he doesn’t have much else to say to her. Doesn’t know what else to say, because he feels like he’s said it all too many times over and he’s exhausted. He doesn’t want to fight anymore, doesn’t want to plead anymore, he just wants to leave. Because she can’t give him what he wants, which is a better reason, a different reason, like, I don’t love you anymore, something, anything other than the one he’s heard over and over again.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to…to umm,” she trails off, and releases a long breath.

It has been a while, two months to be exact, and well, that’s the longest they’d ever gone without seeing each other since they’d gotten together, even from when they were just friends.

“Just..uh here,” she says.

He doesn’t look up but hears the small slide of a box across the table top and he know what it is. He’s desperate to reach out and push it back, it’s hers, he bought it for her. He doesn’t want it back, doesn’t need the reminder of it.

The silence draws on and he thinks about just getting up and leaving, if this was all she wanted, then it’s done and he can go. He did his part and he’d very just much like to go back home.

“Aren’t you going to take it?” she asks, almost impatient, yet desperate sounding.

He shakes his head.

“Can’t you talk to me? Or at least look at me?” she asks, there’s a tremble to her voice. It was always a weak spot for him. He hated to see her upset or worse be the cause of it, but it’s not his fault this time, he did all that he could, yet it wasn’t enough.

Swallowing the lump in his throat he says, “I don’t want it.”

“I can’t keep it, Finn.”

“Do what you want with it then, it’s yours.”

“Why won’t you look at me?” the desperation in her voice causes his fingers to twitch a little but he’s not going to budge, he refuses.

“Because,” he answers.

“Do you hate me that much?” her voice is so small yet he can hear the slight crackle, and knows she’s trying not to cry.

He wants to groan, to shout, to shake her and tell her No, I love you! I will always love you! But he can’t because no matter how many times he’s told her, has showed her, expressed in every possible way he could think of, it was still never enough. And it hurt that she never fully believed how much he loved her.

“No.” he settles on answering her.

“Then please look at me!” Her voice raises some, in desperation and he almost, almost looks up, but he knows better and resists.

“I’ve given you enough, Rae. I can’t give you anymore, or I’ll have nothing left.” He can feel the tears welling up, his eyes will start to burn soon if he’s not careful.

“What’d you mean?”

Even without looking at her he can tell the movements she’s making. Can tell that she slumped back, that she looks completely lost and confused by what he’s saying. In any other circumstance he would have found it adorable and would have kissed her and explained to her the plot of what she missed. She in turn would have elbowed him with a small blushing smile and murmured how he distracted her.

“Every time we fought and you left, you took a little more of my breaking heart with you. And I can’t, Rae, there’s not much of me left, and I just can’t give you another piece…I can’t give you what I still have.” He says, and is surprised he made it through the speech without his voice cracking, because it’s right on the edge.

“I’m sorry, I’m not stronger.”

He’s heard that sentence time and time again and well, it hurts him a little more each time. Because he knows she has trouble and has in the past and always will. He just thought they’d eventually get passed the stage of her wanting to break up with him because she thought she wasn’t good enough, yet here they are. So this time, when she broke it off, he didn’t stop her or plead with her until she would come home. He just…let her go, whilst he held on to a small sliver of hope. Stupid him.

He sighs, shaking his head slightly, “You need to find a new saying cos that one is getting old.”

Desperately he wants to look at her, but he doesn’t, “We both know you were always the stronger one, between us; out of all our friends even. I thought…I thought loving you was enough, but you need to learn to love yourself, Rae. And, I know, I know it so fucking hard, but you need to.”

“Was it so horrible being with me?” she asks carefully.

He shakes his head, “No. Never. Well, only when you were breaking up with me every other week.” he laughs humorlessly.

“As much as I love you and will always love you, I just…I don’t think it will ever be enough. Because I have feelings too, Rae, and every time you’d try to break up with me, and tell me to go off and fuck someone else, someone worth my time. It hurt because I felt like I wasn’t loving you correctly or that I had done something wrong.”

“You were and you didn’t. It was me. You didn’t…you never….” She rushed but trailed off.

“You were perfect,” she mumbled.

“There ain’t no such thing, but I did my best.”

“Is that…is that why you just let me go this time? Because you felt like you failed?”

“Part of it, but more than anything I wanted you for once, to be the one to fight for me, fight for us.”

“I want to be that person, too!” she says eagerly.

He nods, softly.

“I…I..um, I went to see someone… to talk to, again.” She murmurs.

“That’s good, Rae. Really good.”

There’s a long pause and he’s not sure what else she wants him to say, he feels like he’s said all he can.

“I don’t…I still…I love you, Finn.”

He takes a deep breath because he doesn’t want to cry, he sick of crying and he’s not even sure how his eye are still able to tear up.

“I love you, too.” He says.

He scoots his chair back and stands, when she says, “Can we ever be….anything, again?”

He’s unable to help the small smile that pulls to the right, he sighs, and picks up the small velvet box, he places in her upturned hand and says, “Maybe.”

He leaves pulling his hood up over his head once he’s outside, the rain simmered to a sprinkle and for the first time in a long time he feels like he can breathe a little easier. 

She had a little fight in her. 

---

four months later

He’s barely inside his flat and his phone is ringing, he groans because he wanted to just flop down and sleep forever, but he knows that it could be work and he should pick up.

“Hello..”’ he answers quickly.

“Finn..”

It’s Rae.

“Yeah…”

“So, I heard you like Reggae….”

--

The End.

Okay, so, yeah open ending. I mean, pretty positive I think.

--

Also, I just wanted to write something like this because, I’m a pretty self-deprecating person like 98% of the time and its super hard for me to accept compliments and positive emotions of all sorts from people. And often you’ll find that that’s why if you happen to send me a nice message and it takes a while for me to respond is because I get quite worked up over it, it just takes a while for me to process it and be accepting of things most days. BUT I’m working on it in therapy, learning to accept the ‘love’ I’m shown/given.

But back to why I wrote this I guess, it’s just because I know that these things aren’t just one way and that you can hurt people, especially the people you care about by not accepting these small praises. And that sometimes you have to love yourself enough to fight for what you want. and so yeah.

None of this probably makes sense. siiiiiiiiigh

ANYWAY I’m done rambling hahaha just ignore me!

I’m gonna go write something fluffy now! Byeeeeeeeee